#OM???? OK*

[the-art-in-arthesia-is-loud]

dood

[moshaeu]

some doodles from the past few days

[her-om]

I believe, we complete each other in every lifetime.

[beeduoo]

exile

[5mary5]

WHAT THE SHIT?!

WHAT THE FUUUUUUCKK HOLY SHIT?! JDJEJXKSNDJD

[still-a-morosexual-help]

HNNNNNGGGG

HNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG

[blackhillverse]

rio, forever barred from motherhood because a mother brings life, not death. mothers nurture, they don't destroy. so her only taste of a makeshift motherhood becomes prolonging nicky’s life from a distance, haunting the shadows, never seen, never close.

[shootingstarrfish]

some little guys!!!!! yipee!!!!!

[perplexi]

sleepy breakfast om nom nom 🍳💚💜☕✨

[walking-circles]

i cant tell things apart ! i dont know where they start !

[l3m0n-c0r3]

you guys dont understand how fucking funny this is to me

[hcdragonwrites]

(psssst, dragon

what kind of tiger is (more like "was") your guy zira?

not asking for any reason in particular >:))

AWHWAHEHWNAAB

WEEEEEEEE A IM DOING LITTLE FLAPPY HANDS WEEEE-

Ok ok before I get off track on how excited I am- I saw this big old Zira as one of the Siberian Tigers- big old cat from the northern part of china. Imposing and elegant in his stripes. BUT HONESTLY GO FOR IT- BE CREATIVE. HOW DO YOU SEE THIS MAN ?!? HEHEHE.

[her-om]

Batane ki baat nahi hai, Par... batane dogi kya?

Ishq bepanah hai tumse, Ek bar... jatane dogi kya?

Tum titli ho, pahad ho, Aasmaan ho mera.

Ek dibiya me, sindoor rakha hai mere pass.

Tum... lagane dogi kya? –Zakir Khan

[damatically]

OH OF COURSE WE HAVE TO SUGGEST THIS LMAOOO

Also

Mammon is into MC from the very start no matter what?? 🤧😭😭 he'll love me in every timeline

[r0t-t1ngxeyy]

give me a better cross fandom duo right now

[babybeel]

— undisclosed

“satan?” your voice isn’t loud, hardly above a whisper. but it skews the night air all the same.

the demon peaks open a eye, watching as your stare roves over his figure despite your human eyes seeing poorly in the dark. it’s only when you let out a tiny sigh, more of an exhale than anything, that satan responds, a simple “yes?” as his arm wraps around your waist.

if you’d been surprised by satan’s abrupt answer, it doesn’t show, little smile settling on your lips as you move in closer, pressing against his body. “can’t sleep,” you hum, pausing thoughtfully before grinning wide, “tell me a secret?” a classic sleepover ask.

satan chuckles softly. he doesn’t know if it’s the adoration curving your lips or the way you’d shuffled his other brothers out of your room earlier that makes the words fly, but they’re light and airy nonetheless. “i think,” he murmurs gently, heart suddenly noticable as it pounds away, “you were my first friend.”

satan didn’t think it possible to grow any fonder of you, already pleased to help you whenever he can and press a kiss to your cheek when you offer an unneeded thanks. he’s even more pleased to be the subject of your affection. and the demon thinks you must know when you reach out in the darkness, patting blindly until you’re holding his cheek tenderly. he feels his chest swell with undoubted love.

thumbing your boyfriend’s face, your smile has grown tenfold. and if satan didn’t hold the knowledge that he’d caused it, he’d worry your lips would split. incentivised by your tender expression, he continues onwards, “my brothers are family, we care for each other despite it all. and everyone else i knew by association, i was always someone’s brother to them. but you saw me - really saw me - and liked me anyway.”

you can’t help it, surging forwards to kiss satan eagerly. it’s a little clumsy, lips wonky on his, but the both of you are more than content, pouring out affection that neither has the words to say. your shared pact marks glow a brilliant green, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows onto your tangled selves.

“i can see why mammon’s always calling himself my first man,” you giggle when satan huffs at the mention of his older brother after such a moment, “and i’m glad to be yours, because d’you want to know a secret?”

you don’t give satan time to answer, leaning your forehead against his, “you’re my favourite.”

and strong, unyielding, careful, satan loses his composure. your confession has a whine escaping his throat before he’s kissing you. over and over again, unable to get enough of you. secrets spilled into the midst of the night, you’re certain that too much of satan will never be enough either.