#unknown 💭

[maimura]

guys u dont understand how nerve wracking it is to work on a smau

[tteokdoroki]

[mouth pressed directly against microphone] say something about megumi

PLEASE CKSKKDJD thinking about megumi and corruption…m just formatting it :3 it’ll probably go up while im in the shower <3

[salsflore]

but before i sleeep .......

[weirdo09]

i really dislike my mom

[the-dreamworld-system]

I think there is some sort of cosmic balance contained within each individual. because the second we started experiencing Big life issues several small inconveniences / pet peeves stopped existing around us.

[agentstarkid]

I'm gonna be meeting someone who's gonna worship me and be so so soooo into me in these last few months of the year 😏

at least that's what 3 tarot girlies on tiktok told me 😂

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Biggest fan 🏆✨️

Mapi Léon x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

Mapi is your biggest fan

Being an athletes in a unknown sport you never expect her to show up at a national competition after she told you she couldn't make it due to some "important" football stuff.

Mapi made it clear from day one that you were her priority, unfortunately due to her extremely demanding career you would often be left alone for days. Today was one of those days days, she had left for the US and would be comming back in 2 days, unfortunately meaning she would miss your competition.

You were a "hobby athletes", your sport wasn't know enough to make a living out of it but still to have world championship. Although money wasn't a problem with Mapi, you still preferred to be able to rely on your own.

Today was the first national competition of the season, meaning that if you placed first, you would immediately be qualified for the world championship. As you were getting ready to put your make-up on, your phone screen lighted up, call incoming, as soon as you saw your girlfriend name on the screen you didn't hesitate to answer. Seeing her sleepy face on the screen made it impossible not to chuckle at her cuteness.

(M): Hola mi amor, te extraño

hi my love, i miss you.

Hi bebé, yo también te extraño, ¿cómo estás?

hi baby i miss you too, how are you ?

Estoy cansado, el entrenamiento ha sido agotador. Ojalá estuvieras aquí.

Tired, training has been exhausting. i wish you were here

Le deseo eso al bebé, 2 días más para sobrevivir y seré todo tuyo para disfrutar.

I wish that to baby, 2 more days to survive and i will be all yours to enjoy.

Tengo que volver a entrenar, te hablo más tarde, ¿vale? Te quiero, buena suerte en tu competición.

I have to go back to training, i will talk to you later okag ? I love you good luck with your competition

You were left staring at you phone in shock, your girlfriend that would normally wait till the last second to hang up, till Alexia dragged her ass back to the field, just hang up on you without letting you respond.

Finding it weird but not thinking much about it you got your keys and got at to the competition location. Arriving to the parking lot, you meet your coach that informed you of a surprise at the medals ceremony.

Your performance was amazing, not a single flaw, not a single point deducted, just perfect. Right before the medals ceremony, your coach went up to you.

Cuando estés en tu podio no olvides mirar a la multitud.

when your on your podium don't forget to look at the crowd.

Looking at him like he was crazy, he just send a sweet smile while walking away. There was crowd but it was friends or family of the competitor nothing special.

You were annonce first overall, getting up your podium, gold medal hanging around your neck, you smiled happily at the crowd. Eyes zooming over it to find what your coach was talking about, there you find her, your girlfriend huge smile over her face, her barca flag in between her hands, clapping. She was the loudest one in the room, screaming her heart out as if she was in a concert. Mouth hanging open, you got off the podium and run as fast as you could to your girlfriend. Arms wrapped around you as you cried into her neck, the rollercoster of emotion crashing into you.

Si hubiera sabido que te haría llorar no habría venido.

if i had known i would make you cry i wouldn't have come

Hitting her in the arm after her stupid jocke, her torso vibrating from her laugh as she hold you close.

¿Contenta con tu sorpresa?

happy with your surprise ?

You nobbed eagerly, her hand finding your hair massaging your scalp.

¿Qué estás haciendo aquí? No se suponía que regresaras hasta

what are you doing here ? you weren't supposed to come back until

You were cut off by a kiss.

¿No puedo sorprender a mi novia? Nos dejaron salir temprano, así que pensé: ¿por qué no ver a mi hermosa novia, la vida de mi vida? Estuviste increíble, nena, estoy muy orgullosa.

can't i surprise my girlfriend ? we were let off early so i thought why not see my beautiful, the live of my life. You were amazing baby i'm so proud.

Mapi lips found yours one more, hands rooming along each other bobies, you felt like you were the only one left in the world. Until your friend coughed, signaling you that there were kids in the room, you chuckled a bit as you rolled your eyes. Taking Mapi hands in yours dragging her to your car, the drive home was filled with little kisses and sweet words. Arriving home, both tired from your day, you cuddled till you both falled asleep.

Author note :

This is my first ever fic, I know I still have a lot to learn but if you have advice or request don't hesitate !

[ellesthots]

punished - kinktober 2024

ONESHOT!

read on AO3 ❤️‍🔥

plot: after a disappointing night as Batman, Bruce wants you to make him suffer [not related to Fateful]

pairing: bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, orgasm denial, breath play

words: 2.3k

a/n: hi lovelies!! a little treat for the month of October 🎃 based on the 2023 kinktober prompt list (day 14 - orgasm denial), since they didn’t release an official one this year <3 comments, reblogs, etc SO appreciated 💭

It was your favorite position to have him in, and an opportunity that didn’t come often.

Sometimes, after an especially frustrating night crimefighting—say, the muggers got away, the clues led nowhere, or Batman came too late—he’d arrive back home with that look in his eye. A frustrated, ruminating expression that crowded even the massive rooms at Wayne Manor. A demeanor that screamed ‘I need to be punished’.

It floored you the first time he said as much, a few months ago. When he’d trudged upstairs with his eye makeup still on, the black mess smeared up into his browbone and blotchy in the hollow of his undereyes. The fire in his gaze nearly had you running to the bedroom, chasing fantasies of him fucking you into oblivion, blowing off steam. The promise of his bruising touch was the only thing keeping you satisfied on his long nights away.

But that night was different. The closer he came, the more the fire melted into something gentler, more vulnerable. Still, his jaw was tight, twitching in the way exclusive to angry curses and frustrated sighs. His voice was low and hoarse in your ear, the prick of his stubble grazing the crook of your neck. He exhaled a single, quivering breath before speaking. “Punish me.”

You felt faint. Bruce rarely relinquished control in the bedroom, save times he could tell how desperate you were to be on top. Before he walked toward his room, he caught your eye, a careful gauge of your comfort. As shocking as it was to hear it from his mouth, the big bad Batman, you would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t make your pulse race. You nodded, and he disappeared into the dark hallway behind you.

Alone in the hallway, a dozen lewd thoughts circled you. Your limbs tingled with anticipation, overwhelmed by the sheer mass of options. You’d asked him to punish you before, so this was far from unknown territory… you closed your eyes and imagined which sensations he’d allowed you that you wanted to return.

Choking him would be especially pleasing, and… your mouth curled into a grin and you suppressed a laugh. Of course. He wouldn’t think it was anything until he was already in too deep, a shock to his system, leaving him reeling… the anxiety melted away to a selfish excitement, waiting for the pinch in his eyes, how his face might look, his body tense and wanting, so close yet so impossibly far… fuck.

Your feet were light across the cool manor floor. Alfred was nowhere to be seen, and you were grateful for it. Too many times you’d been concerned he might overhear, but tonight that didn’t seem to be the case. Bruce wanted to be punished, wanted to suffer a bit. It wouldn’t be a feat silently won.

The dynamic had already been switched, entering to him sat on the edge of the bed, his spandex long sleeve he wore on every patrol in a pile by his nightstand. You could see in his eyes that he didn’t know what to expect, which was invigorating. He looked almost meek.

As you approached him, you nearly second-guessed it. It would be punishing for you too, not seeing, hearing, feeling his climax. But holy shit was it exhilarating to be the one standing over him, watching as his eyes deepened their focus on yours, fingers moving to undo his button. Was this the power and excitement he felt each time with you, as you tugged down your satin nightgown, unclasped your lace bra?

Your eyes caught on the slightest tremble in his hands while pulling down the zipper. You put your hand over his, and he halted on contact. You pulled yourself closer and dragged your lips from his jaw to his collarbone. His body was worn, muscles tired. It must’ve been a rough night. Your free hand caressed his back, tracing gentle, reassuring circles between his shoulderblades. “Remember your safe word?”

Bruce was putty in your hands, nothing more than a breathy, needy whisper. “Yes.”

Having said the magic words, you placed your hand around his neck, pushing him flush on his back against the mattress. You watched his eyes flash as you tightened your grip, swallowing like his mouth had gone dry. You placed a hand to his sternum as you climbed on top, where you felt his pulse thunder beneath your palm. You slowly dragged your fingertips along his sweat-soaked skin toward the waistband of his boxers.

His breathing hitched, feeling the movement in his throat as you slipped one, then two fingers underneath the elastic. A heady, potent feeling of intoxication swept you, having him completely at your mercy. His face bloomed pink under the pressure of your hand, his eyes a steady pulse of blue, singularly focused as a man starved.

“Were you bad tonight?” Your voice was sweet like honey. He nodded as much as he could within your vice grip, and his lashes fluttered, as if ashamed to admit it. The way the moonlight illuminated the curve of his biceps, caressed the snags of violence across his skin, you felt dizzy. His voice held its own echo, like he’d been hollowed out. “Very.”

Oh how you longed to kiss those lips… “Mmm, can’t have that.” You pulled your hand out from his boxers, as if you had changed your mind about touching him. Your fingers traipsed along the sides of his torso, causing him to shudder. The sensation brought sparks to your fingertips. His eyes searched your face, his desire increasingly evident, desperate to be taken care of. Your fingers caught on the subtle slopes and valleys of his abdomen, skimming the raised scars on his chest, moving agonizingly slower until they reached your mouth.

Bruce’s pupils dilated as he watched you throat your fingers, spit strings falling down your chin as you pulled them away. He moaned as your slick fingers found the base of his cock. He was already hard. Very hard. You squeezed your fingers firmer round his throat with each stroke, drawing strangled moans out of him that only made you press harder, move faster. His head dug into the pillow in glorious agony, the tension in his throat heightening each slip of your hand. You felt every reverberation of his moans within your palm. Every inhale, every exhale. God, it was so fucking hot… you pressed your knees together on the bed, feeling your pussy start to throb.

“Fuck, mmph,” his hands moved up to grip the edge of his pillow, his knuckles going white. He was becoming lost in it, obvious by the shivering moans gasping out of him, the way his hips drove up to match the rhythm of your hand. He was wound up, messy. His hair splayed in dark clumps across his forehead, his eyes squeezing shut, brows furrowing. Seeing him like this, so enraptured in your touch, it could’ve overwhelmed you if you weren’t so stubborn.

But he kept moaning, and his chest kept heaving, and the slip of his dick in your hand was mind-numbingly torturous… when you knew he could be inside you, and the only thing standing between you and his thick, long… you pumped harder, biting the inside of your cheek, hyperfocusing on his mouth like it wasn’t the precise thing making it worse. You noticed your hips subtly moving in concert with his, wanting to lean closer and fucking feel him. Your eyes trailed to his fingers curling around the linen pillowcase, pinching the folds, metabolizing what his moans failed to, and it broke the last thread.

You slowed down, his eyes snapping open at the shift, chest heaving. His pupils were blown, and goddammit, you felt like you could burst. You bunched up your shirt to get it out of the way and straddled him, shoving your thong to the side. If he wasn’t getting release tonight, you’d find it. Sinking onto him was otherworldly, his dick achingly hard, your cunt already puffy and soaked like you’d been at this for hours, welcoming him readily. Your grip slipped on his neck as you rode him, your vision blurring between the wet, slapping sounds of him driving into you, and the groans mingling in the space between your mouths.

He married his hands to your hips to pull you down harder, and it took every ounce of self-control to refuse him. Usually you savored the grip of his fingers, he knew it made you weak, but you were teetering on the edge of a cliff. In a movement that read to your body as blasphemy, as sin, you slammed forward, shoving your hand back around his throat. His arms slacked at his sides as you chastised him. “Manners, baby… only me.”

Your body flattened against him and you left sloppy kisses along his jugular, bathing in the sensation of him hitting your g-spot over, and over… your hands pawed at his jaw, shrieking as you felt tension coil in your stomach, your heart quickening to a fever pitch. Small trails of black fell down his cheeks, the warmth of your colliding bodies running his eye paint.

You knew him well, well enough to know he was lost in it, and that he knew you were there, too. He’d long abandoned the proposition of punishment, relishing in the feeling of your hot, cushioned walls enveloping him, drowning in the symphony of your moans. You could tell he needed this, the way his hips chased yours, slamming into you with increasing abandon. You were almost there, but he was too… if you finished, he would. God, now you really wanted to punish him.

In a swift motion, you slunk between his legs, his dick throbbing against your thigh as it slid completely out of you. A whine cracked the edge of his moan. He propped up on his elbows, panting, watching as you moved both hands to his shaft. By this point his cock was aching, possibly the hardest it’d ever felt. Every time your fingers glided over his tip you’d catch some of his arousal, mingling it with your own with each push, pull.

You had to get this over with now, or you were going to cave. You whispered your lips along his shaft, his hips jerking involuntarily with every gentle swirl of your tongue along the rim. Sweat and adrenaline closed your lips around his head, your hands working the base.

“Baby,” he whimpered, his head falling back. His shoulders relaxed into the feeling, his elbows slipping against his sheets. His lashes were fluttering, his abs tightening, his mouth parting a little, more, a lot… your body became tight with need, borrowing some of the anguish you were sure he’d be feeling soon.

You removed it from your mouth with a subtle pop, savoring the taste of him as you licked your lips. “Look how much of a mess you are.”

His brows knit together as your hands wrung the length of him, his breathing becoming increasingly labored. He was so pretty like this, writhing underneath you. So responsive…

The moans you were pulling out of him almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do. Almost.

A high-pitched groan paired with the twitch of his dick signified the building of his climax. He had no fucking idea, but he’d asked for it. Your brow cocked and he nodded, the edges of his breaths ragged and frayed. “I’m so,”

“Close?”

He nodded again, his inhales shallow and stilted as you increased your fervor, pumping him straight to the edge. His gasps could’ve split the windows, pitchy whines expelling from his chest. “Yes, yes,”

“So close, hmm?” You slowed down just so, barely, imperceptible to someone as thrown as he was. “So fucking close,”

“Just like that, oh, fuck, fuck,” His movements drew erratic, his hips fucking himself into your hand, sweat pouring down his face. You bit back a giggle, watching his body begin to surrender, wishing you could bottle this moment in time. The instant you felt his body prep a shudder, you shot back, ceasing all contact.

He choked on a strangled moan, his eyes flashing wide in shock, his mouth flying open. On your knees at the foot of his bed, you watched his body stretch toward release, unable to grasp it. He slowly attempted to get his bearings, his body heaving with unspent pleasure. You blushed as you witnessed his cock throb in vain—right there, but not quite.

You smirked at him as you ran your hands up his calves, his body vibrating. He blinked hard, whiplash ravaging his system. Your voice was a low, teasing purr. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

His exhausted eyes held the hint of a glare, his teeth gritting hard as he accepted the loss. His heart jammed against his ribs, screaming in protest. He fell back against the sweat-soaked pillow, bringing his hands up to rub his face, hiding the bitter heat flushing his cheeks. “Christ,”

You stood, the bed creaking softly beneath you. You twirled your shirt off and tossed it by the door of his bath, all but skipping over to it. “I’d help you clean yourself up, but…” When you looked back, his dick was softer, his breathing starting to regulate. His eyes flicked over to you, his breath deepening, as if overwhelmed by the sight of you.

He hauled a sigh from the depth of his lungs, agonizingly situating upright. He steadied his breathing for a few beats, stomach coiled tight, body heavy. Jesus fucking Christ. As wholly, entirely frustrated as he was, he was undeniably impressed; his tense, electrified body the ultimate testament, unable to block a boyish grin from revealing itself to you. “Stop celebrating.”

You hummed your way to his shower, choreographing the shape of your hands slammed against the fogged glass. “Careful what you wish for.”

[oepionie]

— "MY JOLLY SAILOR BOLD." tweels

💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link

SYNOPSIS: You meet two mysterious yet beautiful mermen around your age and you ask them to sing for you. They agree—though there's one condition....they want a kiss in return. A fair deal and you decide that nothing could possibly go wrong....right?

⊹ [ cw ] — suggestive, making out, lovesick/slightly yan-coded behavior, both of them pin for you, drowning, the tweels deserve a warning themselves, fighting, mild blood and injuries, mentions of murder, everyone here is morally grey◞

⊹ [ tags ] — gn! reader, on my siren eel agenda, flirty pirate mc, siren-eels are not to be messed with but mc is reckless, jade and floyd having an ariel moment but they're…a fucked up version of ariel, typical siren-behavior, floyd calls you pretty◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 3.3k+◞

WHAT AN ODD LITTLE pirate you were.

Raised by your mother, horrific twisted tales of the deep were practically bedtime stories for you. She was a former ship's captain and a seasoned sailor who had spent more than half of her life at sea.

Mother weaved tales of glorious bloody battles, of thrashing waves, and, most importantly, of dangerous creatures in the sea. Hatred and fear for these grotesque marine creatures have been indoctrinated in you since you were young. It was imbued to the very core of your being, hammered and nailed into your head.

Alas, it appears that you have entirely disregarded the cautions that were issued to you. Any capable pirate knew better than to invite merfolk around.

Especially if you were all alone on a ship.

This year, spring had arrived a little earlier than usual, but you didn't mind at all.

It was at an obscene hour of the night when you were aimlessly paddling your little rowboat over the waves.

Floating a few feet away from your ship, you were gazing out over the sea where the waters were flat and serene, blue as far as your vision would allow. It was a sight you've grown all too accustomed to seeing.

You've sailed a hundred expeditions down this route and you were well aware of the carnage and bloodshed that’s been wrought here in the name of piracy.

A majority of which you've taken part in as—Captain (Y/N).

Young as you were, despite your youth, you had ambition. Already having established yourself as a living legend—or, as some have dubbed you, a living nightmare.

Sailors—young and old—have perished in your name, ships have sunk at your command, and your sword has spilt the blood of hundreds. You had amassed a great fortune from wandering merchants, and fellow pirates alike, all of which were misfortunate enough to fall upon your path.

These were tales and legends from bygone eras; the golden age of piracy had long since passed. Nowadays, you just cruise the sea anyway you pleased.

Adventure seldom found you.

In the middle of reminiscing, you abruptly became aware of a shimmering brilliance beneath the murky sea.

Oh?

'Maybe it was a trick of the waves? Or was it the moonlight's illusion?' You ponder to yourself as you stand at the stern of the boat and look out into the dreary waters.

The entire ocean sleeps when the moon is full. In the middle of the night, no fish or creature would dare remain thus near a boat...so what could possibly be out there?

Peering down, you make eye contact with a pair of glowing yellow eyes, slitted into diamonds.

Startled, the unknown creature slips back into the darkness with scarcely a ripple to disrupt the waves enveloping all about them. You're hypnotized by their shimmering skin as they moved smoothly and elegantly past the icy surfs.

In those short seconds while staring into the pitch-black sea, your mind conjures only one word.

Mermaid.

STRANGE AND STRANGELY FASCINATING, it was. "It" being the obsessive infatuation the Leech twins had for you.

Since they were little, the two brothers have been watching you grow up on that ship, peeping at you behind rocks and tall clusters of brilliant coral.

Curiosity and an interest for humans drew them to you at first, so they thought nothing of it. However, later, as they grew older, that interest developed into something more.

One that made their hearts feel like it was going to burst, a blood-curdling carnage of red and pink spills gushing out in a splatter. With the mere mention of your name, their stomachs sink and turn. The hems of love along their hearts diving into obsession—both feelings closely akin.

Jade and Floyd haven't run upon anyone who was courageous enough to meet creatures like them. Though, they shouldn’t have expected anything less from a pirate like you with an astronomical desire for adventure.

As you waved down at them from the ocean's depths, both of them swiftly swam up to the surface, eager to meet you. Their hands were clamoring and their hearts were racing to a tune that sang praises for you.

"There you are." You grinned handsomely, cocking your head to the side. The flowing fabric of your blouse blew wildly in the fresh salty wind, exposing bits and pieces of your chest and neck for them to see. "Hello~"

Big love-tinted eyes peeked up at you, drinking in every feature, blemish, and scar on your flesh. Occasionally, your gazes would meet and they would quickly avert their stare—a deep blue hue creeping up their cheeks, almost as if they felt bashful around you.

Even then, you thought it would be more appropriate if you were the one who was acting timid.

Because, by the gods, their beauty was such a sight to behold above the waters. In all your years out at sea and land, you've seen no maiden nor man with such features.

Such captivating features.

Teal-haired, with keen, slitted eyes that were veiled with thick, drooping lashes. Cheeks colored with a pale touch of death.

They were breathtakingly beautiful.

There was an urge, a pull at your heart to dive down and join them—drowning yourself in their embrace. Though, you resisted, almost immediately recognizing the sorcery that pulled on your carnal desires.

Mother and weather-beaten sailors had warned you of this. This overwhelming want. This spellbinding stare. Yet as they both drift closer, the forewarned dangers vanishes from your thoughts like mist. You're now left with little more than a hazy consciousness as you see them approach your boat.

You are in grave danger yet you are not afraid. Fear does not grip you as you raise a leg over the side of the boat, swing it over the top of the wood, and then sit over the edge, never taking your eyes off the mermen in front of you.

Their entire body, apart from their eyes, were submerged in the water which made it hard to determine what their species were. Though you could occasionally catch the flicker of their tail slapping against the surface.

Speaking of their tail, it was an utterly resplendent sight! Even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to explain its magnificience as it gleamed brighter than any of the gold or jewels your sullied hands have ever taken hold of.

Its lack of a single color and its vivid, luminous nature fascinated you. Depending on how the moonlight hit it, it radiated a wide range of shades, from the deep tint of blueish teal to a rich shade of bluish jade.

"First time away from your home?" You rasp, waving a hand in the ocean, watching as small ripples curved against the water's surface, tides of the blue abyss travelling outwards.

Minutes pass, and yet you get no response.

"Hmm…you two don't talk much, do you?"

Jade and Floyd knew all about pirates, heard every story, whisper, and tale of the bloodthirsty monsters fueled by lust for gold and glory. And yet, they somehow struggle to picture you as the avaricious captain you were labelled as.

Still, while you appeared free and jovial, both of them could sense that you yearned for the thrill of danger, for life-threatening adventure, and for the many fantastic yet perilous things the ocean has to offer.

They exchanged glances, and at that instant, their plan was set in place.

Appearing docile, Floyd shook his head no, hovering near you and spinning around playfully.

"Awe, aren't you a cute little guy?" You cooed, running a rough hand along his back. The mer shivered, preening at your compliment.

"I really shouldn't be so close to you, though. Us pirates usually avoid approaching any merfolk since…they feel your methods, your ways of living are…" You trailed off, waving a hand in the air as you searched for the right words.

"Spooky?" Jade spoke out, swimming closer to you with a sinister glitter in his eyes. Breath hitching in your throat, you leaned towards him, an amused smirk slowly stretching across your cheeks. "Oh ho? You do talk."

"I can do much more than that." Jade purred, the tone of his voice sinking into a sonorous lull.

Well, you certainly can’t deny that something draws you to these two.

The predictability of your life on these seas has gotten boring to you. Gone were the days of bloodthirsty glory instead, it was always the same routine. Poring over the same ancient yellowed maps, loitering about the deck, and secluding yourself away in the vast sea.

You know your mother would be horrified by your actions, disgusted to see you mingling and, Poseidon forbid—flirting with these…mer.

Though you couldn't bring yourself to care. Speaking with these two was the closest thing to excitement you've felt in a long time.

"That's a pretty voice, love." The grin on your face lacks any of the warmth it had in the past few moments.

You tip your head back and giggle, raspy and brittle, "I heard a mer's song was, um, what did those bards call it? Ah, yes—A voice that is so alluring that men and women jump overboard in squadrons."

"Hauntingly beautiful, that's what the poets call you mermaids…" You hum, watching them slyly from your row boat while reclining back against the wood.

Gaze drifting down their body, your arms folded around your chest and your gaze turned half-lidded, lips curled up in a sensual, cat-like smirk. "…and I can see why. Haunted, I am."

Both of them go abruptly silent and you chuckle, staring at them through the wreaths of grey smoke that curled into fanciful hazy whirls from the foggy environment.

Floyd and Jade squirmed as they both felt the strong pull of their instincts, screaming at them to just drag you into the waters already.

Your conniving praises and silver tongue was starting to get to them. One more push and—

"Say…I've been meaning to ask," You murmur, and seem to take a moment to stare into their innermost souls.

"Can you sing for me…?"

Something snaps.

Floyd makes a low sound, somewhere between a trill and a growl, while Jade's eyes darken considerably. Beneath your piercing, ice-cold gaze, the twins felt their nerves prickle up like the flickering electric stings of a jellyfish. 

This is a dangerous game you're playing. 

"…You're quite the flatterer," Jade—ever so composed—is quick to snap out of it and smiles simply, tapping his talons along the wooden deck. "…I suppose I could grant you your wish. Though, there is to be an exchange for it."

"Hm? What's that, mate?" You looked up at your ship from your little boat, eyes darting to the windows of your chambers. "That ol' girl isn't new to the seas so there's quite a lot of stuff there. Maybe some of my treasures will catch your fancy—"

"No." Jade interrupts you, the shadow over his eyes returns. "…I do not wish for any treasure or gold. All I want is a kiss."

"A kiss?" You parroted, an eyebrow elevated and amused laughter peaking from your lips. "I have chests of golds and heaps of ruby-eyed jewelry; yet, all you want is a kiss, is that truly what you desire?"

"Yes."

"Nothin' more?"

Jade ponders and pauses for a while, before turning to face his brother. "Floyd, perhaps you want something as well?"

"I wanna kiss from pretty shrimpy too!" Floyd cooed, pursing his lips at you and imitating kissing sounds by hollowing his cheeks. His strong arms, taut with ripping muscle, are crossed over one other as it rests upon the rims of your boat.

"So, what do you say, Captain? Is it a deal~?" Floyd stretches out a hand expectantly.

And you take it.

"Deal." You smirk. "One kiss for each of you, in exchange for a song. Pirate's honor."

Not like the honor of a pirate was worth much anyways.

The melody lifting from Jade's lips was somewhat familiar to you, yet it was of a faraway nostalgia. You couldn’t remember where you'd last heard it, but it felt…right. He had a voice that was velvety smooth; thick, and deep like a dream.

"Upon one summer's morning /  I carefully did stray," Jade sang, deep voice flowing off his lips in a sweet honeyed song—its melody lathering itself on your tongue. The saccharine taste of its imbricating rhythm obliterating every bit of skepticism you held towards them. "Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay."

"My heart is pierced by Cupid / I disdain all glittering gold." Jade continued, tucking the long dark strand of his hair behind his ear—leaning his head atop the rickety rims of the boat's mossy wood. "There is nothing can console me / but my jolly sailor bold."

"Come all you pretty fair mers, whoever you may be / Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea." Floyd hums along, lovingly tracing a hand up your arm. His voice was a lovely little thing; echoing deep throughout the air.

As expected, they sang beautifully, hauntingly; with an accent in a tongue native only to the sea. There was a mystical lull weaved into their voices—fitting to their titles as bewitching creatures of the sea.

"My heart is pierced by Cupid /I disdain all glittering gold." Jade stares straight ahead, his sapphire gaze alluringly fixed on you seated in front of him.

"There is nothing can console me…" Pushing himself up the wooden edge of your boat, the eel lures you over and you followed. "…but my jolly sailor bold."

As Jade's song came to its finality, he leaned in close and pressed a swift warm kiss atop your agape mouth, such tenderness in his affections—and that of heavily masked lust. The eel parted from you, nipping at your bottom lip and watching with unbridled delight as a flicker of pink hue glazed over your diluted eyes.  

"Come in the water, shrimpy~" Floyd cooed at you, claws reaching out to trace against the curve of the ships side. "We don't bite~"

Songbound, you leaned in towards the two and plunged in.

You don’t think about holding your breath.

The water was ice-cold and it strikes at you like a venomous bite. Yet before you could sink, two strong hands grasp at your waist, keeping you afloat in spite of the rough rocks of the sea. Jade was cradling you close to his chest, his hold firm and uncompromising while his tail encircled and bound your legs together.

"Hello, shrimpy~" Crooning, Floyd moved to rest his wet cheek against your tangled hair, talons pushing past the fringes of your damp torn-up shawl to rest against your thighs.

The slippery pads of his fingers trailed up to your torso; Travelling from your hips, past your corset, all the way up to your chest. The eel toyed with the drawstrings of your poet shirt before grasping it tight and yanking you forward.

"You're so pretty~" Floyd trailed his other hand up your neck, sharp talons feathering over your pulse dangerously. The eel craned his head down to meet you eye to eye. 

"I could just eat you up." The silky strands of his lashes fluttered against his lidded gaze as he leaned in close, breath fanning across your burning cheeks. Floyd pulled you into a deep kiss, loving the way you groaned against his mouth.

Chuckling against your lips, Floyd tightened his hold on your neck—his claws almost breaking skin, "You like that, shrimpy?"

You return the kiss, dazedly smiling against his lips before pulling away, lungs in desperate need of oxygen.

Floyd could see drops of water resting atop your swollen lips, and as your tongue darts out to wipe them, a fiery desire ignites in the deep curves and crooks of his heart. It didn't take long before he was diving in once more, lips pressing against the side of your neck.

While his brother was fixated on marking your skin, Jade hugged you from behind—affectionately cuddling into your hair.

The eel ran his hand up your throat and grasps your jaw with webbed hands to tilt your head backwards. He presses his lips against yours, the thick muscle of his tongue prying your mouth open before it darted in.

Floyd glides away from your form after a few minutes, leaving your neck sufficiently bitten and marked. He grinned excitedly and took your hands in his webbed ones, whisking you away from Jade.

You couldn't help but notice how he was gently dragging you away from the rowboat. "Say, shrimpy~ You ever wondered what it's like to swim under the sea?"

A flash of clarity hits you, shattering the enchanting spell that both mermen had cast upon your heart. You sensed danger as both eels started to close in, grinning ominously which revealed their fangs—long and dripping with thirst.

It seems that your fun little swim was over.

"I can't say I've ever experienced the pleasures of drowning—" you muttered. "And I don't intend to do so very soon."

The texture of their tails may appear solid and rough, but when you kick your legs at Floyd's, you immediately discover how the skin is supple when touched.

The sharp end of your worn boots cut at his silky luminescent skin, dragging along the scales of his flesh and leaving a deep cut in its wake. A small trickle of blue blood spreads into the waters and the eel hisses, darting away from you.

You try to swim away, but something—or rather, someone—gets in your way.

"My my, leaving so soon, pearl?" Jade quips, grin all-to-sharp.

In hindsight, it was foolish to interact with two mermen you hardly knew, especially ones who were taut with sharp teeth and firm muscles. Any pirate with half a mind would know to turn the other way and flee if these two approached them.

The mer both advanced to surround you, a mysterious glimmer swimming behind the haze of their duo-colored eyes.

A startling epiphany rushes over you.

As slippery as they might be, there’s no hiding the lethal sheen of pink in their eyes—especially not from you, a pirate who’s spent a fair number of their days hauling the cold dead bodies of lovesick sailors away from their watery graves.

These two weren't your run-of-the-mill mermen, no. You have heard about them before—in tales and legends.

Mermaids. Vampires of the sea. Water nymphs. Naiads. Sirens.

Many names, yet they are all the same.

A sighting like this is not unusual. This species of mer is mostly found in the deepest, darkest sections of the ocean, and they only come up to hunt at night.

It seems that you've walked right into their trap. Sailors were their easiest prey.

"Ah." You grit your teeth, a low, breathy snarl slipping past your swollen lips. "I should've known."

There’s a warm yet strong pressure against your shoulders and arms; followed by an odd feeling of heaviness as you were suddenly propelled down the water's surface. Webbed hands keep you pinned beneath the waves and you're suddenly all-too-aware of your body's exhaustion; of the salty liquid flowing past your tongue and the scorching gurgle that ignites your lungs as water fills it.

There's a ruckus around you, and you can barely hear Jade's voice, who was eerily calm in the midst of your murder. A bottle is then abruptly forced into your mouth, the potion within it spilling down your throat and leaving you disoriented.

It appears that today is the day that the monotony in your life finally ends. The pull of unconsciousness becomes too strong to resist, and the world darkens.

TO BE CONTINUED...?

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: COMMENT HERE TO BE TAGGED IN MY WORKS

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisoniousheart @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @phoneandchips @gussuri @mushroomchaos101 @rainybeebs @furoidoleech @lunavixia @heatofmyexoheart @veras-fanfic-reblogs @pianopuppygirl @cross-crye

[tteokdoroki]

tumblr deleted all my tags :) don’t mind the post

[salsflore]

i fell asleep again . . [ insert something about wanting to take a nap with zhongli here ]

[rae-pss]

Begging for more self aware whb🙏🙏

masterlist ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . okay, i can't write shit to save my own life. please, i'm hating it here (😭). but, whatever, hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 207 words, satan pov, mc is referred with they/them.

it was a strange feeling.

an unknown sensation that satan couldn’t pinpoint when it appeared, yet since one day it didn’t stop circling his head. It was almost like a broken record going on and on.

and, as time went by, he began to realize how other demons started to experience that same sensation. little by little, different demons watched onto that their mc wasn’t the one they so desired to see, to speak, to touch… but, a container for what the one used to communicate with them.

A feeling that whenever his red irises fell on mc’s figure became even more prominent.

it was as if mc was another person entirely as if they weren’t themselves in the first place. and, he wasn’t meaning it as if they were solomon, as so many compared them to because they were his descendant; but, more like they felt like the vessel of someone else. someone whom satan couldn’t reach.

nor was it a presence similar to god’s, so omnipotent and benevolent, it seemed somehow superior to his. he could reach god if he even knew where he currently was; however, with this one it was different.

it wasn’t there, in a physical speaking way, but its essence was felt.

now, the only question left to answer was: could they find you, get to you? could they bring you there, with them?

[pupsmailbox]

WEIRDCORE ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ abigail. abyss. achlys. adam. adelaide. adeline. agatha. agnes. albert. alexander. alfred. alice. amelia. angel. annabelle. apparition. arch. archie. arthur. atticus. aud. augustus. babel. babylon. barren. beatrice. benedict. benjamin. blanc. bliss. bubbles. bug. bunny. cain. calvin. cassian. cassius. catherine. cecilia. celeste. charlotte. chimera. clara. clementine. cloudi. cloudy. crow. dahlia. daisy. daphne. darcy. daze. deja. delusion. dorothy. dove. dream. echo. eleanor. elizabeth. emily. enigma. ernest. error. eve. evelyn. exite. eyes. felicity. felix. flaw. flower. gideon. glitch. glitchy. graham. harriet. hattie. haven. haze. hazel. henry. hmone. hollis. hugo. hun. illusion. imogen. inara. ink. iris. itzal. ivy. izhi. jane. juliet. juno. jupiter. kai. kasumi. kasumu. ka’awa. kgodi. kiri. kohu. kora. lilione. link. lucy. lulu. luminal. mabel. margaret. mars. matilda. matrix. mazin. meglena. mercury. miglė. mihika. mirage. misty. mok. mold. moon. moss. moth. muggur. nameless. nebula. neptune. niara. nihari. nihilo. nihira. nirav. nix. nobody. noir. noire. noiresse. noirette. nostalgesse. nostalgette. nothing. nox. ocula. odditie. olive. oliver. olivia. orion. oytuman. penelope. phoebe. pluto. poppy. portal. pujoq. raven. rinan. rinku. rūkas. salem. sanoe. saturn. senka. serene. shroom. shrum. shunya. sierra. sky. smile. socket. sophie. spook. spookie. spooky. spotty. stitch. sugar. sumu. sunny. suong. taktuq. telle. terhi. theodore. thoka. tomanbikä. tooth. tripp. tuban. unknown. usva. vacara. vacio. vega. venus. victoria. vivian. void. vortex. walter. xihir. yogiri. zero. zeta.

PRONOUNS ⌇ ?/?. ?t/?t. [redacted]/[redacted]. abandon/abandon. backroom/backroom. being/being. bizarre/bizarre. blank/blank. blur/blur. clock/clock. cloud/cloud. creature/creature. daze/daze. deja/vu. deranged/deranged. dim/dim. dizzy/dizzie. dream/dream. eerie/eerie. empty/empty. entity/entity. error/error. eye/eye. familiar/familiar. float/float. flower/flower. fog/fog. forget/forget. glitch/glitch. gone/gone. gray/gray. haze/haze. hush/hushe. it/it. ix/ix. jpeg/jpeg. lim/liminal. liminal/liminal. lost/lost. miss/missing. mush/shroom. no/exit. nostal/nostalgia. nostalgia/nostalgia. null/null. o/o. odd/odd. one/one. rem/ember. shush/shushe. space/spacey. stat/static. static/static. strange/strange. stuck/stuck. surreal/surreal. tele/vision. th?y/th?m. that/thatthing. thing/thing. thon/thon. tooth/tooth. tv/tv. un/canny. un/un. uncanny/uncanny. vague/vague. voi/void. void/void. vor/tex. watcher/watcher. weird/weird. where?/where?. x/x. yellow/yellow. zero/zero. ⏺️ . ☁️ . ⚪️ . ⚫️ . ❓ . ❔ . 🌁 . 🌫️ . 🏚️ . 👁️ . 👤 . 💨 . 💭 . 🔇 . 🔲 . 🔳 . 🕳️ . 🗝️ . 😶‍🌫️ . 🚪 .

[nickssidewitch]

✨ Analysis of Matt’s Recent Dreams 💭🛌

In the recent Sturniolo Triplets video (Aquarium Adventure + Boys Trip) Matt talks about having dreams of killing people, specifically his brother Chris and some random King and Queen of an unknown area. This is actually so interesting to me from a spiritual analysis perspective.

A lot of people automatically think that “dreams like this mean that you actually have the urge to kill someone”, when in reality that’s actually usually false!

Let’s break down what these dreams could mean together. Maybe they can help anyone who has been having dreams similar to these as well!

Firstly, there were 16 people in total in his dream about him traveling to an unknown area (the 14 strangers plus him and Nick). The number 16 revolves around change, love, and intuition. Matt might be going through a spiritual change that is either about to become physical or is already becoming physical. The number 16 is reminding him to love himself and take care of his family. In that specific second dream, he is trying to save both his and Nick’s passports, so he is literally taking care of his family (But then he and Nick have an argument by the end, so it means that they have some things they have to talk about in the material world). The number 16 shows Matt has to build on trusting himself and others as well in order to work on himself and progress in different aspects that will be further discussed throughout this post.

They’re all paragliding, and flying is a pretty common dream that can signify overcoming problems and rising above them to free yourseld. He was flying with a tool (the paraglider) which means that in the physical world, he has the tools to overcome certain problems or worries he may have; he just needs to open up his mindset and remember that he has those tools so that he can use them and free himself.

There were snakes below them all, and the snakes could represent bad or toxic people that he wants to avoid in his life, or they could represent challenges in his life that he wants to avoid as well because he might lack the confidence or willpower to face them.

There was a very tall fence (he said like 80 feet, which I will get back to in a second 😉) that was used to protect the occupants of the paraglider. This could indicate that there are boundaries he has set or that he needs to set in order to help him progress. Since the fence protected him from specifically snakes (Remember that snakes = toxic or bad people), then that means he needs to set and/or maintain boundaries with bad-minded and shifty people, whether it’s some fans, or some people already in his life or who are about to be in his life. Set a fence that can prevent people from harming him and his mindset.

Back to the fence being specifically around 80 feet tall, the number 80 can represent that he has people around him in the physical and metaphysical planes that are protecting him from evil energies. The fence was there at the right time (to save them from the snakes) and the height number of 80 can also be a reminder to Matt that he is in the right place at this moment in his life. He shouldn’t dwell and worry about his past or fear his future. He needs to appreciate the now more (which I feel like he’s been doing a lot recently), and needs to remember that he is indeed in the right place.

Matt mentioned they were stranded in a foreign area and didn’t know how to get home. This one’s kind of self-explanatory: Maybe he’s feeling a bit stranded and might be feeling angry at the thought of feeling that way.

The boy that they survived with who was only there for one moment was a fan of theirs. When the fan was helping them in their journey, he was sneaking a video of them between his legs, which is interesting because they’re in a literal life or death situation. This fan could represent his relationship to his fans in the sense that while it’s nice to have them because they’re helpful and have gotten him far in his personal journey, sometimes they can still catch him at his most vulnerable moments and would still want a photo or viral moment. I have to clarify because some people might take this whole part the wrong way: He doesn’t hate his fans. He’s just trying to think of ways not to have a parasocial relationship become an issue or become too invasive and weird.

Matt mentions how he and Nick stole things to survive, Matt taking the essentials such as food and water, while Nick stole a notepad and a pen. Maybe there are things that he thinks Nick may be putting off telling him. Or maybe there are things he’s not telling Nick. Or maybe (and this is the one I’m leaning towards) Dream-Nick is telling him that “the pen is mightier than the sword”, meaning that writing things down and rationalizing his thoughts and feelings are much more effective than trying to solve problems with force or unnecessary violence. We’ll come back to this thought when we start to talk about the King and the Queen.

The whole concept of “death” from a spiritual perspective means that something is transforming or transitioning. It’s like finishing a chapter of a book and turning the page to a whole new one. Seeing all of those people die who were on the paraglider with him could represent old ideas and mindsets that are also dying that he wants to leave behind as he grows. Matt also mentions that he kills three lives himself (one in one dream and two in another). That could mean Matt is “killing” old chapters of aspects of his life and starting new ones. He could also be wanting to free himself from old habits and old chapters.

However, Matt mentioned he killed specific people (Chris in one dream, and the King and Queen in another).

Let’s start off with his brother Chris. It seems so morbid that he would do that to his own brother in a dream, but remember that your dreams don’t have a direct translation to reality, so he wouldn’t actually want to harm Chris. What that could mean, however, is multiple things. Maybe he and Chris had an argument on that day and he was repressing some anger towards him that manifested into that dream. Or maybe there’s something that Chris did that upset him and caused him to feel anger or negative emotions that he repressed. I truly don’t know the reason because it’s not for me (or anyone) to know, only for Matt to know and figure out.

Let’s move onto the King and the Queen. What’s interesting about the King and Queen is that there are 4 “King” and 4 “Queen” cards in tarot. The King and Queen were holding some things of value to him (the passports and basic needs). But they were also holding his weapon of choice: the knives. What this can indicate to me is that the tarot cards these royal beings could be related to are the “King/Queen of Swords (the knives)” and “King/Queen of Pentacles (his valuables like the passports and food)”.

The King and Queen of Swords represents rational thought, order, and achieving goals through intellect and then taking action. The Queen plans the action and then the King takes the action, both with the use of logic and lack of emotion. Matt still killing The King and Queen with their own swords yet doing so reluctantly shows that he is wants to kill off the ideas of overusing logic, but is still confused with his emotional side. He has to learn to balance his use of logic and impulse of emotions when dealing with situations. He probably is avoiding rational thinking and clear, direct communication with people about the way he’s feeling because he’s afraid of not knowing how to properly balance logic and emotion.

The King and Queen of Pentacles represent the master of material things both for stability and comfort, the King representing stability and the Queen representing comfort.

Maybe the King and Queen can represent an older couple in his life that provided those things for him (I’m very certain it’s his parents or grandparents, but I’m leaning towards parents). I’m uncertain of the full meaning behind this (maybe because it’s simply not meant for me to know), but I think it’s saying that he isn’t communicating the way he should be with them, and that’s why they want him to stay in that stranded, unknown place. They want him to open up more about his emotions and be kinder to himself, and that’s why they took his valuables. Again, not gonna go into full detail about this because I simply don’t know what this really means, and I honestly feel like that’s only meant for him to figure out for himself. Matt says that in the King and Queen dream, he was crying while killing them as well, and this remorse or guilt is similar to how he felt when he killed Chris in the previous dream. He might already know that he’s not being open with them about his feelings and thoughts, and that’s why he feels this guilt.

At the end, Dream-Matt felt like he killed the King and Queen for no reason because he couldn’t get his valuables. But, it turned out that Nick had already retrieved the passports anyway. This ties back to the “pen is mightier than the sword” idea. Remember how Nick stole a notepad and a pen? What Dream-Nick might represent is that sort of alternative route one can take to achieve his goals. He didn’t have to kill the King and Queen, so he didn’t, but he was able to do what Matt wasn’t able to do himself: retrieve the passports. Matt was too busy killing the King and Queen that he didn’t even notice Nick taking the passports. Matt probably still has to learn to take those alternative routes in his daily life: Don’t be impulsive or resort to physical, damaging expressions of his emotions; be logical, think things through, and express yourself to a journal or those your trust. You will achieve your goals.

If Matt somehow magically finds this and says “that’s a whole bunch of hullabaloo”, that’s totally okay. And if he sees this somehow and is super interested, that’s also totally okay. I just personally thought it was interesting as someone who analyzes spiritual stuff like dreams for a living (take the “for a living” with a grain of salt because I’m not a professional and I don’t get paid for this 😭). I feel like it would be nice for him to see this, but again, I don’t even care that he does. If anyone who reads this finds some sort of explanation to their own dreams, then that’s all that matters to me.

Love y’all! 🤍✨🫶🏾

[lizpaige]

WIP Wednesday 💭

here's a snippet of my declan outside pov of pynch (set of vignettes exploring declan's trust of one adam parrish)

Text from Ronan I need a ride to church

There were two baffling things about this text from his brother. One, Ronan texted him. Also, Ronan texted him without profanity, a middle finger, and with more than one letter. Declan often found the ever infuriating letter k more often than even a response from his brother. The second unknown was why Ronan was willing to spend time in the Volvo with Declan driving. Anytime they did have to travel together, Ronan was quick to explode in profanities about Declan’s A-safety rating driving habits before threatening to throw himself out while they were cruising at a respectable 65 on the highway. 

Declan immediately thought the worst. He must have totaled the BMW. He tried calling Ronan once, twice, but gave up before the third time with no answer. He tried texting, knew that was useless, but tried anyway. No answer. Typical. He could feel the acid creeping up his throat, the anxiety of having to deal with the insurance mess, the unknown of what kind of deathtrap vehicle Ronan could dream up next. 

So when he pulled up to their childhood home on Sunday morning, he was shocked to see the BMW sitting unscathed in the driveway. 

“What the fuck,” Declan grunted under his breath, unsure if he was happy to see the vehicle or angry that Ronan put him through hell on the lead up to absolutely nothing.

“See?” Matthew grinned from the passenger seat. “The car is fine! You had nothing to worry about.”

“Sure.”

Declan shot off a text to Ronan, he did not want to get out of the car, and scrolled through a few work emails while he waited for his brother to show up. He let the anger simmer and slowly dissipate, working on breathing through his nose. He would not be the first to blow up today, and let Ronan paint him as the bad guy to Matthew. He could already see it now, Ronan shrugging innocently at Declan, a quiet and sarcastic I just wanted more time with you, bro, and Matthew would hear none of its irony. 

Two or three minutes passed and Declan looked up at the front door just in time to see a shadow pass behind the glass. Good, kept them waiting long enough. The front door open and his brother wasn’t alone. 

Behind Ronan, still in the shadows of the foyer, was clearly Adam Parrish, in wrinkled clothes, dark circles under his eyes, and a smirk. He was saying something to Ronan, who laughed genuinely, the kind of laugh Declan heard most often when Ronan was making jokes at Declan’s expense. Something else passed between them, a look Declan couldn’t quite place, it was too quick. 

Ronan hopped off the top of the porch onto the gravel, heading toward the Volvo. 

“Lynch,” Adam called from the doorway, stepping out and using his back to keep the screen door open. 

Ronan turned, patted his pockets, and then tossed a set of keys, no doubt the ones that belonged to his BMW, to Adam, who caught them deftly. 

What. The. Fuck.

[eunxhan]

E ( 💭🪶 . • ✧ ) 𝖺𝗋𝗍 & 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝟸𝟶𝟸4

─── © 🎞 film by EUN.X.HAN⠀

# ⋆ ⩉ EUNA 𝂅 🖋 : I just started replaying obey me and all of my memories about my priest!oc came running through my mind.. So I thought of writing about him all over again.

❛ 𒀭 : DISCLAIMER — OC slight, bad grammar, RELIGION.

❛ 𒀭 : READER — Male , You/Yours

❛ 𒀭 : LINKS — Request rules

The priest, deeply rooted in religion and spirituality, was known for his soft and gentle nature towards others. His faith guided his every action, and his compassionate demeanor brought comfort to those around him. Though, everything changed when he was transported to the realm of Devildom.

At first, he struggled to comprehend the reality before him. The world he had been immersed in, where religion was forced upon him at every turn, seemed to crumble around him. His gentle facade began to crack, giving way to anger and disbelief. How could this be the true nature of existence? What do you mean that there's a school between heaven and hell? Celestial realm? Devildom? Him becoming an exchanged student? None of this is real.. The idea of interacting with the Demon King or the seven demon brothers filled him with disgust and fear His once-kind eyes now held a flicker of hostility, his voice tinged with bitterness as he struggled to reconcile his beliefs with the reality of Devildom.

The priest's journey was one of internal conflict and anger. As he grasp with the unknown of this new world, questioning himself everything he had once held dear. His faith, once a source of strength, now felt like a burden, a reminder of the lies he had been fed throughout his life. As the priest character go through Devildom, his once-unshakable faith began to waver. The demonic realm stood in stark contrast to the existence he had led, causing him to question his beliefs. He have never seen anything like this in the book.

As the priest go deeper into Devildom, he began to uncover secrets that challenged his understanding of good and evil. He witnessed acts of kindness and compassion among the demons, qualities he had once believed to be exclusively human. The lines between right and wrong began to blur, and the priest have a hard time grappling with a newfound sense of uncertainty.

As soon as Priest was assigned to be with the seven demon brothers, his reaction was one of shock and disbelief. He stared at them as if they were something disgusting, his eyes wide with horror. The sight of Diavolo, Barbatos, the demon brothers, sent a chill down his spine. This was a far from what he was forced to believe, he had envisioned, and struggling to understand with this new reality.

Priest's attire was a stark reminder of his life back in the human realm. His simple priest uniform and the cross necklace that hung around his neck stood out most. The demons, with their elaborate unifotms and otherworldly appearances, looked upon him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Wondering how can a priest react.

Their mischievous antics and irreverent behavior just makes the Priest frustrated. Of course the demons probably dislike priests or any religious people because of how they imagine demons to be. And when the moments where he had to act like a therapist, the priest gets angry. Asmodeus and Mammon, in particular, seemed to take great pleasure in pushing the priest's buttons, their playful taunts and suggestive comments leaving the priest flustered and off-balance.

Throughout his journey, Priest's unwavering faith and gentle nature served as a beacon of hope in the darkness of Devildom. His interactions with the demon brothers, though often fraught with tension and conflict, has revealed the hidden depths of everyone, and the priest found himself questioning his own beliefs and assumptions about the nature of good and evil. Priest initial interactions with the seven demon brothers were marked by tension and misunderstanding. His opinions, shaped by the teachings of the human realm, clouded his perception of the demons. He was struggling with the differences between the biblical depictions he had been taught and the reality that stood before him.

Lucifer, the eldest of the brothers, was the embodiment of Priest's deepest fears. The priest's apprehension was understandable, his every move guarded and cautious. Like any human would act when being forced to live in a different realm that they never thought it was real.. Lucifer, though understanding of Priest's reactions, Lucifer is sometimes angry by the constant side-eye glances and mistrust coming from Priest. Their interactions were filled by misunderstandings, both of them struggling to bridge the gap between their different worlds.

Mammon, the second eldest, was a force to be reckoned with. Priest realized he had signed up for a game he wasn't sure he could win. Their constant fights and yapping were by moments of unexpected empathy, as Priest relating to the demon brothers despite his best efforts to maintain his religious beliefs. Mammon grew frustrated with Priest's tendency to bring religion into every conversation, urging him to let go of his rigid beliefs and embrace the reality of Devildom.

Leviathan, the third eldest, evoked a sense of nostalgia in Pries. The demon's nature reminded him of the edgy teenagers who had once hate his attempts at religious guidance or even visiting the church. Despite their clashes, Priest and Leviathan discovered a shared interest that brings them close, allowing for moments of unexpected connection. Especially when it comes to animals, like Snake. Priest often finds Leviathan's Ruri-Chan's merchto be concerning which made Leviathan to judge him for believing into something for so long only to found it everything was a lie.. both of them have not talked about it since..

Satan, the fourth eldest, priest's initial hesitation and desire to avoid the demon were quickly overshadowed, drawing him into Satan's orbit alongside the other demons. As Priest navigated his feelings towards Satan, he found himself questioning his faith and beliefs. They quickly bonded with the liking of books.

Asmodeus, the fifth eldest, a constant confusion for Priest. The demon's flirtatious attempts were met with confusion, as Priest struggled to understand Asmodeus' intentions. His pure nature, often underestimated by those around him, made him particularly uncomfortable with Asmodeus' unexpected touches. Priest still tried to be understanding of Asmodeus' interest in fame and beauty, recognizing it to his own experiences in the human realm.

Beelzebub, the sixth eldest, was another confusion that Priest found himself with. The demon's seemingly nice and gentle personality. To Priest, that's not how a demon should be. Despite his instincts telling him to maintain a safe distance, Priest is drawn to Beelzebub's normalcy. He even caught himself cooking and baking for the demon of gluttony, a task that brought them closer together despite Priest's best efforts to keep his guard up.

Belphegor, the youngest of the demon brothers, was the one Priest disliked the most. His disdain for unmotivated individuals was well-known, and he saw Belphegor as someone who was not making the most of his life. At first, he never intended to help the demon at all but something in him made him to. After traumatic encounter with Belphegor, where he was betrayed and choked, left him with a deep-seated fear. Whenever Belphegor entered the room, Priest made a tried his best to appear normal, but he couldn't help but leave the room.

Other headcanons is that Priest has a secret love for sweets, particularly chocolate chip cookies. He often sneaks into the kitchen late at night to bake batches of cookies, only to find Beelzebub eating too. Which made both of them to talk together as they eat (Priest couldn't help it.. I only wonder how he'd react to the angels) Talking about sweets, one time Barbatos offered him baked goods and Tea.. Oh he couldn't wait to see Barbatos after that encounter.

Despite his stern and serious demeanor, Priest has a hidden talent for playing the piano. In the human realm, he always plays the piano. He often plays softly when no one else is around, pouring his emotions into the music and finding a sense of peace that he struggles to achieve in his interactions with the demon brothers.

Priest has a collection of small, intricately carved wooden crosses that he keeps hidden in his room. Each cross represents a person he has helped or a struggle he has overcome. And sometimes, puts it infront of his door whenever he's fed up with the brothers.

Priest has a soft spot for animals, particularly stray cats. He often leaves out bowls of food and water for them, and he has been known to sneak them into his room for a warm place to sleep on cold nights. He was once caught by Lucifer when helping Satan to bring a kitten home during the heavy storm and scold him for it.. that night, it seemed like Priest was more angry towards Lucifer than Lucifer is angry at Priest..

Priest has a secret journal where he writes down his thoughts and observations about Devildom and the demon brothers. He uses it as a way to process his experiences and writing down the new things he have learned in this realm.

Priest has a habit of humming softly to himself when he's deep in thought or when he's trying to solve a problem. The melodies are often hymns or prayers, a subconscious way of seeking guidance and clarity. Right when his and Belphegor's relationship goes, He hums different songs for him to sleep.

@𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑿𝑯𝑨𝑵. Do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and/or confirmation.