#pearlie rants

[crestapex]

As much as I love the AU/trope of Ghost being the demon and Y/N being the angel/the unsuspecting human who accidentally summoned him… respectfully, I think I like it ever more the other way around.

Just hear me out! I mean, Ghost’s literal job as a member of the SAS and Special Forces is to protect people, to protect his country, to take out terrorists/drug lords, etc. In other words, he’s a protector, and a guide and mentor as well—given how he walked Soap (the player) through the ‘Alone’ mission, and then some, that’s just one example.

Also, he may act all tough and sarcastic and shit, but genuinely, as seen, he’s a caring and loving individual deep down. He does things for the greater good, at least he tries to. Sure, he’s a little closed off and definitely has some barriers up, but like I said, he really is just a good man deep down. And I feel like you could coincide that with angels, who often times do what they see fit for the greater good or the best case scenario in the long run. As well as acting out on their duties to protect mankind and their individual humans that they promise to guard and care for when necessary.

So, I’d like to imagine an AU where he’s actually a guardian angel, an archangel, or just a higher class angel of some sort. I think he fits the bill for the most part, he’s a powerful soldier in itself. And angels, especially the archangels, are also seen as powerful beings as well. Besides, angels are often depicted as actually pretty frightening and intimidating to look at, also the same as Ghost.

All of that, and I’d kill to see more evil/bad guy Y/N for once, lol. Ancient demon Y/N who has a thousand year rivalry with archangel Ghost… Or Y/N who keeps questioning how exactly they’re still alive, like, you were hit by a car, what do you mean you’re perfectly fine? Why is the group of guys who tried mugging you running away all of a sudden with a terrified look on their face?… *Cough* Ghost. *Cough*

[pearlynia]

So when I was little, i watched this one barbie movie where they were singing on a flying cloud and I begged my parents to buy me a flying cloud cuz I wanted to ride one too

[pearlofthesirens]

HAVE. YOUR. AGE. IN. YOUR. BIO. OR. PINNED.

THIS. IS. AN. 18+. BLOG.

I. DON'T. ALLOW. MINORS. OR. AGELESS. BLOGS. TO. FOLLOW. ME.

[doodle17]

SO I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE HYPERFIXTATED ON THE MANIA STYLE TO THE POINT WHERE I ERM-

**PUTS THIS HERE AND RUNS AWAY GIGGLING**

I've literally just been staring at this

All day

*sniff* UgKhhUgh

[ittybittypearlygirly]

BEHOLD!!! the littolest guy........

[skeptic-roach]

music is all about personal interpretation and it's subjective yeah yeah cool whatever but it's so fucking upsetting to think about how rage against the machine released killing in the name of and to this day it's still Incredibly Famous and popular and played on the radio every day but like

no one really cares what it's about? zach de la rocha got up there and fucking poured his anger and pain and what he lived as a poc into every fucking second of that and all of his songs and what do people do with it? "cool guitar hero song hell yeah"

rage played at protests, at benefits for death row inmates, GOT BACK TOGETHER TO TRY AND TOUR WHEN PROTESTS STARTING GETTING THE BIGGEST MEDIA COVERAGE AGAIN yet no ine really listens to the fucking words he's spitting

killing was released in 1992, over thirty years ago, and we still have a majority of people just passively being anti-establishment.

no. listen to him. listen to the never ending generations of people calling literally everything as it is. people have been and will continue to point out every egregious misuse of power and money for gain on the backs of minorities and we have to stop letting it be capitalized on.

[nvuy]

oh, the eldritch horror! — scar

summary. venturing out in the woods to clear your head was supposed to be relaxing, so why is this twisted abominable nightmare of a beast growling in your face?

notes. i rewatched shrek because i was bored and i snatched the donkey & dragon scene right out of it. but like, instead of a dragon, it’s literally baphomet. does this count as monsterfucking bc idkkk… anyway yeah it’s like scar but his goat form. i thought it would be funny. this is just painfully self indulgent.

idk wtf is going on in wuwa but my brain shut down when this loser came on screen and started ranting about shepherds and sheep. whatever you say beautiful.

warnings. scar, very minimal crack (it’s inspired by shrek. idk what to say bro…)

This has to be the worst day of your life.

The creature snaps its drooling jaw in your face.

It looks like a goat from Hell. Like a black sheep that’s wandered from its herd. You can’t see much of its face, but the ginormous pair of curled horns are sharp at the edges. The cartilage could easily slit your throat in half if you were to make one wrong move and lean in too close.

Four yellow beady eyes glare at you, way too close to your face. You can see your warped reflection along rectangular pupils. Giant ears peeled back towards its skull, pierced with two matching golden earrings in the shape of crosses that are the size of your hands.

You laugh nervously in its face.

Oh, god, it’s going to eat you alive. You know it.

You try to take a step back, but you’re met with the roots of a tree at your feet and the trunk digging harshly into your back.

Bad idea. Oh, this was all a bad idea. The bad luck streak should’ve been an indicator right from this morning: you slept through your alarm and were subsequently late for work, you fell over twice at work, you lost your house keys, and then you decided to clear your head and go for a walk.

You ended up venturing off deeper into the trees to search for herbs to help back at the clinic in Jinzhou. You don’t even know which direction the city is anymore.

And now, there’s a creature—and it can’t be a Tacet Discord—growling and snapping its teeth in your face. It’s huge. It’s way too big to be absorbed, let alone actually taken down with brute force. Whacking it with a stick certainly didn’t help.

All that did was manage to slash a decent gash into one of its hind legs and anger it even further.

It snarls at you.

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple.

Uh oh.

“Oh, what large teeth you have!” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re trembling as you stare up at it.

A low guttural noise escapes from the depths of its throat, and its jaw unhinges.

Your eyes pinch shut. “I-I mean, white, sparkling, teeth!” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, your words almost incoherent. “I know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but, you must take really good care of those pearly whites, ‘cause that is one dazzling smile you’ve got there!”

The creature’s slitted eyes narrow in suspicion. Its jaw snaps closed as it pulls only a few inches away from your burning skin.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your hands.

You clear your throat. “I’m so grateful that your beautiful smile will be the last thing I ever see. Y’know… when you eat me… ‘cause I’m sure you must be hungry!” You prattle on and on, and your knees are weak and wobbly. “Not that you have to eat me. I’d prefer if you didn’t, but– yeah! So grateful!”

You were praying to whatever Gods could hear you that your mindless babbling saved your life. Or some superhero came through and took this thing down in one swing.

The giant creature seems to preen at your words. Its sharp teeth retreat behind a now closed mouth. Its horn suddenly don’t appear as sharp as they were before, and the curl of them against the creature’s skull look softer and more defined. They were different to the ghastly sharp edges you saw before.

Your legs can’t keep still. Your hands interlock in front of you to try and quell the shaking. Your bones feel like they’re vibrating beneath your skin.

You try to control your breathing. “Beautiful hair–fur, by the way.” You raise a finger to point at the greyish locks behind its horns. For such a mangy beast, its hair looked a bit silky. Maybe unwashed, and it was full of twigs, but slightly soft. “And I smell a hint of berry…” Lie. “…Did you… wash it?”

Stupid question.

You try to control your breathing.

Maybe the beast isn’t a beast. Maybe it’s a nice creature cursed with being ugly.

The creature is still eyeing you.

Can it understand you? Or is it trying to survey whether you’re a threat or not? You can’t tell. You heard somewhere that dogs don't like when people look them in the eyes. You didn’t even know if that was true.

The correlation is stupid, regardless. This beast is far from even remotely resembling the canis genus.

Its head is huge, even when its jaw is shut. Its nostrils are the size of your hand, and it breathes puffs of hot air in your face. You reel back further into the tree. Your stomach drops impossibly lower than it already has. Your skin is soaked in sweat.

The creature bumps its nose against your sternum and inhales sharply.

You glance to the left.

Is it… smelling you? Is it trying to figure out if you’re edible? Oh, Gods, then you’re embarrassing stalling would have been for nothing. What a day. As if it couldn’t get any worse than it already had been.

You can't outrun it. It’s huge. By the time you’ve sprinted ten feet away it can simply lean over and pluck you by the back of your collar and pop you into its mouth.

Your insides churn at the thought. You were afraid you’d hunch over and vomit out of fear on the creature’s face.

Bad plan? Maybe then it wouldn’t eat you, at least. Or maybe it would. You were afraid to take the chances, and swallow the bile rising up your throat.

Its oddly bent arms smash into the dirt on either side of you. A low garble echoes in its throat and bubbles with saliva.

It sounds like a croak of sorts.

The lamb creature bumps its sharp snout into your stomach. Those beady eyes blink—you notice it has vertical eyelids. Gross. It’s like a giant lizard, almost.

Its teeth are gone for the moment, though, so it offers you a moment of reprieve. Or maybe it’s trying to calm you down so your blood tastes sweeter, or something. Sweat continues to roll down your neck, and you swallow the giant lump in your throat.

The red sashes of the torn clothes on its back pull with its form, ripping at the seams even more.

Your eyes flit nervously to the wound on its leg. It’s a small smear of crimson against grey fur, barely noticeable, and you’re sure the creature can’t even feel the sudden pain from it anymore. It seems to be walking fine, and it does not exhibit any discomfort when it shifts its weight to each hoof.

You wince when you spot the gnarly gash you left on it.

The lump in your throat doesn’t dislodge.

You try to ignore it.

The creature’s long neck pulls into view again. It’s watching you silently.

You figure if it wanted to eat you, it would have done so already. Hopefully you seemed inedible to it. Maybe it was an omnivore or something—but those sharp teeth were definitely not just for chewing on leaves and berries in the wild.

Morphed fingers dig deeper into the dirt beside your feet.

You stare into its eyes.

Its still eyeing you.

Huh.

It’s… curious. It blinks slowly, one eye at a time, as you slowly, and so slowly, slower than you’ve ever moved in your life, raise your hands.

Then, you navigate around its giant leg beside you and step towards the gash on its hind leg. Your foot tramples onto a twig and it snaps loudly. The creature watches you with lidded eyes, but there’s a flash of teeth in warning. You gulp.

You kneel before its wounded leg and pull your satchel from around your waist.

The creature does nothing. Its teeth disappear behind its mouth again.

“Sorry,” you whisper with a wince. You hope it can understand you’re not a threat. Maybe it’s scared of you. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A giant predator, some eldritch abomination in the middle of the woods, scared of a little flesh bag. “Um… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared, y’see?”

You had meant to hurt it, but you’d spit little white lies if they saved your life.

The creature blinks creepily again. That uneven slow blink, like a frog.

You’re more disturbed than anything. You’re amazed that ginormous tongue locked behind its teeth hasn’t come forth to lick its sclera wet yet. Then you’d be more convinced.

You try not to let it show. “But, um…” You dig around in your satchel before you pull out a small glass vial. “I have something that might help.” The vial is made of a crystal glass with a cork in the rim. The liquid inside is a deep blue, like the blueberries growing on the nearby bushes, or like thick ink.

The creature lowers its great head down towards the bottle.

It stares at your hands expectantly before trying to sniff around the glass.

Hesitantly, you remove the cork and hold the rim closer to one of its nostrils. It most certainly doesn't smell good; it’s made up of a mixture of herbs and alcohol, but you know for a fact it does a damn good job at shielding wounds from infection. It was fool-proof medicine; you made it. And you don’t settle for less than perfection.

The creature seems displeased with the scent for it seems to flinch away from the rim. It does not swat the medicine, but it turns its head away.

It looks grumpy.

“It might help the bleeding.” It will help the bleeding. You know it will. It will heal the entire wound. But, you didn’t come here to gloat, so you keep your lips zipped shut. “It’ll sting, though.”

The creature makes a noise. It does not sound like a warning, nor an acceptance of your words. It’s simply an acknowledgement, like a toneless hum, but you also don’t speak eldritch lamb, so you could be far from the truth. For all you knew, it was hyping itself up to open its mouth around your head or take off into the trees.

Alas, it does neither of those things.

It sits back on its hind legs despite its wound and then falls into the grass.

Its eyes shut and it stills.

You blink in wonder.

Did it… die?

Nope. It’s still breathing. Its nostrils flare with every breath. There’s a giant pitiful feeling of disappointment, but at the same time, a smaller pang of relief in your stomach.

Your hand reaches out to touch the tender and raw skin around its wound.

The creature remains still. Maybe it’s sleeping. It did chase you around the forest for a good long while.

You hum. It’s like a giant dog, you think. Like a scary, huge, dog.

You take loose cloth from your satchel and dab the medicine generously into the cotton until it soaks it thoroughly. You don’t have anything to properly clean the wound with, but it will have to do. You do have a wrap of bandages, though, and it’s better than nothing.

Gingerly, you press the soaked cloth to the tip of the wound.

The creature blinks its eyes open and snarls.

You try again in the spot next to it, gently pulling any flecks of dirt you see from the gash.

It hisses then, low and horrible, and you flinch away. It watches you cautiously, hind leg pulled towards itself protectively.

“I just need to clean it,” you say desperately. You know there’s a pleaful gleam in your eyes.

The beast tilts its great head towards you before it snorts and rests down on the grass again.

When you press the cloth back to its wound, it makes a noise, but it does flinch.

So, you work gently. Slowly, like you’re treading through thick murky waters. It feels that way. The creature puffs annoyed noises through its nose, but you dutifully ignore it, watching the shimmer of the medicine in the evening sunlight to make sure it was spread evenly over the gash.

When you’re satisfied, you take its giant hoof in your lap and wrap the bandages around its leg. The size of its calf takes up almost all of the roll, but you make it work, tucking the ends into the wrap. The creature does not deter away from the treatment.

You hope it isn’t too tight.

It’ll give the beast another good reason to close its jaw around your head.

The creature blinks its gross eyes open again, those rectangular pupils drawing thinner. It’s surveying the bandaging like it’s foreign; it probably is, given the creature has probably never received treatment in its life. You notice the ghastly scars drawn over its face.

Still, you’re frightened. The noises that pour from its throat are guttural and flagrant. It’s still huge, even as it lays in the grass. When it raises its head, it’s still taller than you.

You feel a drop of sweat slip down your spine.

It probably hasn’t eaten you because you smell unappetising. You’re thankful, internally.

You stay knelt in the grass, dirt staining your pants as you watch the creature warily.

Then, it coos. It’s snout bumps into your stomach and it coos. You flinch away from the noise, hands raised near your head defensively. Why is it cooing? Does it like you? That’s better than hating you, at least. The creature huffs and puffs against your stomach, and washes of hot air waver over your sweaty face.

You shakily rest a palm on the top of its snout, mindful of the deep scars.

The creature only stares blankly.

Huh. “You’re not so bad.” You swallow nervously. “You’re sort of like a giant puppy.”

The creature lets off a low garble. It sounds innocent, like a passing noise of pleasantries. Like it’s enjoying your attention.

Your hand smooths over the strange fur. It’s coarse between your fingers, withered with age and scars, but it still somehow retains a slight softness. It’s nice. It smells suspiciously like livestock, but that’s better than smelling of blood and sinew.

The creature drowns in the feeling of your hand against its head. The gold earrings are cold against your skin.

Then, it reels back.

You almost jump when its mouth moves towards your face before a long and slimy tongue drags up your cheek. You almost gag as saliva drips from your skin, but you try not to let it show. You shiver instead, mostly out of disgust.

The creature seems pleased though.

You’re glad to be of service. And to still be alive.

Nice puppy.

You try to ignore the slime stuck to your skin as you thumb over the creature’s horns. They’re enormous, much larger than the width of your arm, but the cartilage is so delicate, and you notice chips in the black curls.

It bumps its nose into your sternum and makes a noise.

When you say nothing, it makes the same noise, but it’s drawn out and higher, more irritated. Petrified, you stumble back slightly. You have a clear shot of running now. There’s no trees trapping you with this thing. You could try and make a beeline towards where you think Jinzhou is.

The creature stares expectantly. There’s a slow kiss of a blink, and hot puffs of air fan over your face and send jitters down your spine.

“I don’t– um…” You try to settle your trembling. “I’m not understanding–”

The great creature lets out a frustrated huff, and lowers its head towards you. You think not to place your sweaty palm on its snout for pets again. It doesn’t seem to warrant them at that moment, either.

It’s getting dark now, and you’re growing nervous again. Does it grow violent in the night? Is it warning you? Oh, God, maybe it’s going to pounce.

A cloying scent fills your nose. Your eyes refocus from the tears that melt along your bottom lashes.

You watch, mortified, as the creature warps.

Those giant hooves shrink in size, followed by an engorging shadow of smoke and red dust like sand. It burns your eyes and floods your lungs wrong, and you cough, fanning your face desperately. It stinks. It smells like metals and burnt soil. This mustn’t be good for your health, inhaling all this stuff.

The creature horns curl smaller until they disappear. You can’t see much of it, but what you can see is almost disturbing. It looks painful. The silhouette of the great beast continues to shrink, and those beautiful tresses of white and grey hair curl along what can be assumed to be a more normal looking face.

Its silhouette vaguely resembles a human, but there’s much too little to see you’re not quite sure. Black ripples down those long arms and pulls away the fur covering them.

There’s the snapping and straightening of bones. You almost puke at the sound. You force yourself to look away. Sweat pools in your throat like an oasis.

When you find the courage to glance back, the shadows then peel away from the inky red fog and dust.

You gulp.

It’s a man.

It’s the beast, and you know it is because the scars on the creature’s head match the lines and pulls of his skin. He’s devoid of fur now, and his hair is dramatically shorter, small curls imitating those giant black horns twisting around the now fleshy lobes of his ears and his neck.

His clothes are the same. Ruined and tattered, but still that red coat. His shirt is caked in dirt and his pants are torn where the gash is. It’s still covered by the rolls of bandages.

He is on his hands and knees in the grass. He looks exhausted, like he’s trying to recover from the most painful transformation you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

“Um…” It’s the only thing that can seem to form coherently from your mouth.

A grin cracks onto the man’s face. “Hi.”

You nod slowly in a greeting.

Your spine snaps rod straight in fright.

The man stands to his feet slowly. His bones crack and continue snapping as he moves, and he lets off an annoyed sigh before he stretches and pulls knots from his joints.

Then, he suddenly looks alive. “That’s better. God, have you ever been trapped in your own body?” You briskly shake your head, to which he scoffs playfully and continues, “‘course you haven’t! Silly me.”

“Are you–” You feel stupid for asking, but there’s something forcing you to say it. “Are you a Tacet Discord?”

The man’s face morphs to answer your question. “Do I look like a Tacet Discord?”

Well. He did. About five minutes ago. It takes effort not to respond with irked quips, eyes flitting towards your satchel that’s still resting by his feet where you had left it.

He notices you staring at it and kneels down to pick it up. The thin strap you swing around your body is pulled over one of his fingers like the bag is a foreign object entirely.

You figure he might try and rummage inside. He won’t find much if he plans to rob you.

Instead, his eyes narrow playfully at you. “You are so interesting.” He grips the strap of your bag tight and takes one calculative step forward. “Usually, humans bore me. They’re all cut from the same meat platter, after all.

“But, you…” A pleased, airy little giggle escapes his throat. “Oh, I like you.”

Oh, this is very bad.

That smile on his face says it all.

Very, very bad.

You sucked up way too much to the beast.

You’re in for it now.

You laugh awkwardly in return. You’re not flattered in the slightest.

You hoped the world ended at that very moment. That would fix the problem.

You clear your throat quickly. “I appreciate you not eating me, sir. Really, I do! But I need to get going now. It’s getting dark, y’see, and… and it’s not safe for me to be walking around in the dark…” You’re stalling again. It worked the first time. You hope it works here again.

That doesn’t appear to be the case.

The man watches you closely.

“C-could I have my bag back?” You curse yourself for letting the waver in your voice slip. It sounds hopeless.

As expected, he only snorts. “Nope.” He swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”

You really need your stuff.

Your feet remain planted into the floor.

He’s scary. His smile isn’t normal. The scars pulling around his eyes make it so much worse, too.

His head tilts curiously to the side. He’s walking right towards you now. His eyes rapidly move from your face down to your legs, surveying every inch of you he could.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear.

“What’s your name, little lamb?”

Your heart spikes in your chest. He’ll follow you right back to the city, you know it. You can see it in his eyes, and his expression—where’s that stick to swat him off? Your eyes frantically search the ground as you move for some sort of branch to stave him off.

Your hands raise in front of you to keep him away, but of course your little frail body isn’t going to deter him in the slightest.

If anything, he only coos again.

You tell him your name reluctantly when your foot stumbles over a stray root. You don’t topple over. You can’t imagine what would happen to you if you had to start crawling away from him.

He repeats it once.

Then, his grin softens. “I like it.” It looks relatively normal now, like he’s not about to dig his teeth into your flesh. They’ve straightened up from how sharp they were prior, but you’re sure those canines could do enough damage. “I like you. You’re so nice. So small. So silly.”

You swallow hard.

He says nothing else.

Your brows knit together in worry. “What’s your name?”

His eyes flit down to himself as if he’s wracking his brain to remember. Then, he says, “Scar.”

Underwhelming. It’s like calling a kitten ‘Cat.’ You don’t voice your disappointment. At least his name is simple, and easy to remember.

Your eyes swarm to his bandaged leg.

He’s not even limping. The gash seems like nothing but a fleeting thought.

The man, Scar, hums thoughtfully, a nail pointed onto his cheek. “It’s not everyday you find a little white lamb away from its flock. It would be unwise to give you up to the other creatures in the forest.”

You swallow whatever courage you have left in your bones. “I don’t need protection, but thank you.”

He can keep your satchel. You are out of here.

You turn away from him this time and continue walking forward.

“Oh, but didn’t you just say it’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark?” His words taper off into a chuckle. His smile twists into something grotesque again. His arms are pulled open into some sort of mocking await of an embrace. “Come, little one. I promise I am gentle.”

You don’t believe him.

You’re sweating again. Hot ash clings into your lungs. You stifle the urge to choke on your spit in fear.

Your head turns back to watch him, suddenly alarmed. Gooseflesh raises on your arms.

Stupid.

Your foot catches onto a thick protruding root in the dirt again, but this time you do stumble to the floor. Your head smashes against the ground but you can’t pay it too much mind. You’re panicked, and ice rushes through your veins like blood.

You push yourself up instantly, but he’s quicker, and a foot stamps down onto your calf. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it’s firm enough to keep you there.

His knees hit the dirt on either side of your legs and you’re cornered. You try to sit up to the best of your ability, but he tuts as if he’s reprimanding a child. “Now, now. You’ve hit your head. You could be seriously hurt, y’know?”

“‘M fine!” You push on his chest when he leans down far too close to inspect you. “Get off!”

There’s no physical damage except for a small welt. You feel dizzy, but that’s to be expected.

There’s something alight in his eyes.

Excitement.

This is a game to him.

Scar lets you sit up, though he’s still very much straddling your lap.

That same wobbly grin pulls onto his lips.

Oh, gross. You should never have treated his wounds. Now he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. You’ve caused some great beast to grow delusional because you wanted to be nice.

You’re never stopping to help lonely animals in the forest ever again.

You swear you see hearts bubble and pop from his head when he blinks at you. He hums a small giggle before his arms wrap around your neck and draw his chest into yours.

He squeezes you tight and you buzz with the excitement that radiates off his skin in heat waves. More and more hearts float from his head, and you’re sure his pupils are a shape to match.

“I want to keep you.”

He squishes his cheek against yours.

“Uh…” What the hell else do you say? Especially to this thing that’s swamped over you like a giant teddy bear. You can’t even breathe.

“So small. Are humans usually this tiny? And you’re so warm–”

You claw at his arms. His grip loosens over your neck.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Instead, he looks intrigued and experimentally squeezes around your throat again. “Oh. I always forget just how fragile humans are.”

You sigh in defeat.

Oh, boy.

This is going to be a long night.

[konigsblog]

Loser-König can't handle his jealousy and envy towards your boyfriend.

CW: MENTIONS OF SOMNOPHILIA. MDNI 18+

Fuck, that man is so lucky to have someone like you. You refer to König as your ‘closest friend’, breaking his heart slowly with each hurtful, triggering, and upsetting word.

He'll go home and jerk himself onto aggressively until there are tears staining his flushed, pink cheeks and his sweaty, musky cock is swelling with arousal and pain. The tightness of his firm grasp causes his uncut tip to drool out pearly, creamy globs of his sticky load. He scrolls through all the photos he's taken of you and your nude body, old videos where he's touched you while fast asleep and unconscious.

König will sob and rant to you about being lonely, that ever since you got together with that bastard, you've changed. He'll yell out frustratedly, his eyebrows furrowed together through anger and rage, envy burning inside of him. He'll make you feel inclined to suck him off, you know... As compensation for not getting with him instead. What does that dickhead have that König doesn't? Is it because he isn't conventionally attractive? Or is it because he's a sick pervert? Regardless, he deserves better.

He'll record it as well, you know, in case he needs that asshole gone and out of your life. He'll be the #1 reason behind your breakup. He watches as you swallow his meaty cock and gag at the intrusion and taste. You've never taken someone as large as König and you're not prepared, but the harder König sobs, the more your heart breaks for him.

You attempt to set him up on dates, but he refuses to even bother with other women. How could he? You're his soulmate, you just don't realise it yet. He'll guilt trip you, saying that he's unlovable, so that you make him feel loved and appreciated by bouncing on his girthy cock for hours while sleeping over. You cry out through shame and disgust – König is like a brother to you, and when you squirm and attempt to lift yourself off of him, he tugs you back down by your soft hips and gives you those eyes that you can't deny.

You can practically feel him in your stomach. He's not even fucking your throat and yet here you are, gagging at the guilt and horror rushing through your bones. You can hear the squelching and the wetness between your soft thighs, feel the sticky strings of his creamy release sticking to König's balls and your plush rear. He'll hold you down, forcing you to accept every inch of his milky load, despite how shaken up you are.

[insomnianoctem]

So

A firetruck just went by blaring it’s emergency alarm instead of the standard one (which also happens to be close to our flood alert system... which is the WWII air raid siren) and I think I definitely have some PTSD after last years flood

Today started as dogshit, continued as dogshit, and it’s ending as dogshit.

I have spent more than half of today trying not to cry.

I’m so fucking done

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— overstimulation + seishiro nagi.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — smut, minors dni 18+, characters aged up to 20s, male masturbation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, big cum shots, fantasies, aftercare, afab!reader, pro player!nagi - hello id like to thank @irideaels for letting me rant abt this a few days ago so !!!! enjoy !!! + not beta read btw lol

oh because … nagi who cums until he physically can’t anymore when he’s jerking off.

one hand tweaking his nipples from under his tight black shirt he couldn’t be bothered to shrug off and the other fisting his cock glossed in layers of hot cum and precum — soiling the palm of his hand with its viscosity.

seishiro’s cheeks tint pink with exertion, sweat beading at his hairline like jewels on a necklace as his back arches off the bed and his hips rise with fluid and steady thrusts into his closed fist. he only works hard for things that he wants, and what he wants is an orgasm. more than one. poor sei, all frustrated because he won’t stop until he’s satisfied or until the burn of frustration from not having you with him ceases to exist.

he tucks his face into his shoulder, lips pouty and bitten until they’re a shade darker than the pink that they usually are — nagi running his thumb back and forth, back and forth through the seedy tip of his angry red cockhead just like you would. it’s a nice feeling, especially when he’s so sensitive. it makes his eyelashes flutter against his shirt and an impatient whine reverberate in the depths of his throat because he needs you, he misses you.

everything is too hot, his dick between his stick and shiny cum covered thighs. nagi’s skin to the touch. the sex tainted air in the room. in order to cool off, sei takes his shirt between rows of pearly white teeth that are gritted to hold his moans and if he closes his eyes tight enough — he can use the wet slap of his hand around his aching, twitching cock to picture you above him and riding him the way he likes..

he imagines the squelch of your precious cunt around him, squeezing himself like you would when you sink down on his thick and lengthy shaft — he starts slow and lazy but the more nagi pictures you bouncing away in his lap, circling your clit to the pace of his whimpers and whines the more he speeds up. mercilessly pounding his own fist, sending droplets of his precum and remainders of his precious orgasms flying about the place and messing up his sheets.

“ngh…hah, angel please. please.” he gasps airily to no one in particular — using the veil of the darkness surrounding him to picture you better. there’s a blistering burn in seishiro’s lower spine like he’s about to bust again and his thighs twitch apart on instinct as if to make room for it all, his second hand shooting between them to squeeze and tug on his large breeder’s balls. he wants you so bad, it makes him cry as he rolls his hips higher and higher. “g’na make me cum. w’na cum…please!”

nagi whispers your name into the night, his hips stuttering as the chord holding back his release snaps in his lower tummy. greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull as he helplessly drools from his babbling mouth. one, two, three — he gives a few more shallow pumps to his sore cock, ropes of hot white shooting over his glistening abs and milky chest, seeping into his salt slicked skin. nagi is dizzy, he’s cum, what? three or four times now? he’s lost count, he’s too tired but it’s still not enough to get rid of the white hot need he feels for you.

there’s mess upon mess as seishiro starts himself up again — languidly jerking off with his movements easily guided by the slickness of his last orgasm as lube. this time he thinks of you cleaning him up, sucking bruising marks against the creamy flesh of his thick thighs where only he can see them. you’d kitten lick your way up his cock, take him into your warm pretty mouth and suck on him like your life depends on it.

he can practically hear the way you’d gag on it, spit on it, palm what you can’t swallow down with your dainty little fingers while you moan around him. it drives nagi up the wall. he’s blushing and crying, stroking himself hard and fast and he feels like his hand might drop off — but he’s almost there. dopamine shoots across his brain as sei imagines you taking his release down your throat, how you’d whine around him, complain about just how much he cums even though you both know that you like it.

without realising, his fingers speed up again — thumb circling his tip in tight movements. he switches to using both hands instead of just one, wildly fucking up into his make-shift pussy as if it were yours or your mouth. hot tears sting a path down seishiro’s cheeks in exhaustion and frustration, but this’ll be it. this will be the one to sedate his hunger.

“oh fuck,” nagi’s shakily chokes back a sob, clenching around his own chubby cock, wetting his lips, writhing against the wet bed sheets and blankets below. “oh angel! hah, hah, haaaah!” his hips have a mind of their own while they desperately chase after his high like he would after a goal on the pitch and before nagi knows it. he’s cumming once again. blinding ecstasy rolls over his body in large waves, drowning him, suffocating him. he feels like he can’t breathe as if you’ve stolen all the air from his lungs. blood rushes through sei’s ears and wracks his entire body in a fit of the shakes.

he cums so hard, brilliantly and beautifully — his large cum shot hitting his face and dropping down to his heaving chest while he pants and comes back down. he knows he won’t be able to stay conscious for much longer, blindly reaching for his phone with messy hands to snap pictures of his ruined cock and pink flushed face to send to you.

sei baby ♡ - 10:45PM: came so much 4 u angel. come home soon

sei baby ♡ - 10:47PM: (2 attachments.png)

in fact, nagi’s orgasm and the aftershocks of it are is so big that he quite literally passes out after messaging you, giving into his tiredness. finally being able to relax.

and when he comes to, you’re there, dressed in his clothes — cleaning up nagi’s sensitive spots and all his mess with a damp wash cloth so tenderly, a proud smile on your face as you brush back his sweaty and snowy white hair. “you did so well for me, sei,” you whisper, kissing his tear stained cheeks as if he might shatter if you do. “go back to sleep.”

“mngh… thank you, love you angel…” he manages before drifting off.

“love you too, my handsome boy.”

[urfavlarry]

Fallen Blessings

Alastor x fallen angel!reader

warnings: none!

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Alastor stood behind you, hand on your hip as he watched with a insane looking smile as all of hell fall into panic as the angelic exterminaion began. A white angelic light emited hells lonely streets, thousands and thousands of exterminators flying down like hungry animals. “So much for being ‘angelic beings’.” You think to yourself and scoff. Alastor twirls you around, smirking down at you. You stared at him without a bit of expression on your face, examining every inch of his face. Slow jazz music starts to play, Alastor swaying with you as loud screams start to echo through the pride ring. Your mind was else where as Alastor dipped you, your head barely above the ground. You think about how heaven once was, your once pearly white wings were a gray, almost black color, the tips of your feathers still a vibrant gold. You never could have imagined that heaven, a paradise where most of humanity wishes to end up after death would decide on such a cruel thing as exterminations. You get pulled back into reality when Alastor cups your cheek, making your once innocent eyes look into his crimson ones. He pinches your cheek making you wince.

“What’s bothering you mon chéri?” He says and you shrug, looking back at the ruckus outside. “It’s nothing love, just thinking about.. heaven.” You say and he laughs out loud, making you look at him with a raised brow. “Oh but whatever for? You’ve got me down here in this wretched place, don’t you?” He says and you nod, leaning your head on his chest, swaying a bit more slowly. “Just wonder of how things would be if I managed to convince the high Seraphim to stop those exterminations, or if I never even found out about them in the first place.” You say making him stop in his tracks as if he just got frozen in place. He grabs you by the shoulders and looks you in the eyes. “You never told me about this?” He asks with a curious smile, leading you to the couch in the hotels library. He looks at you expectantly, looking like a child that’s about to find out about the tooth fairy, which was a funny sight since this is the radio demon we’re talking about here.

So you tell him about the events before getting thrown out of the eternal paradise they call heaven. Getting caught listening to a conversation the first human; Adam and the high Seraphim; Sera were having about hells overpopulation. You weren’t caught for being loud, no, no. You were too naive to think there wasn’t an angel right on the other side of the door who heard your little gasp after finding about the exterminations. And so you were thrown out, which was a bit stupid considering they added another soul to the already overpopulated hell. Alastor laughed, commenting on how reckless the angels were which you somewhat agreed to. “Maybe things could’ve been different, and maybe that whole event is the reason why i’m here in this hotel. I doubt it will work but I have hopes for the girl. She’s smart but she has a long way to go to achieve this dream, if it’s even possible.” You rant, fiddling with your fingers and look anywhere but at Alastor. He puts a hand on yours, squeezing it lightly as comfort. You open your mouth to speak but get interrupted by Alastor. “They were reckless to kick out such a heavenly soul into hells streets.” He starts making your stomach turn. “They have no idea what a blessing they lost.” Your cheeks redden as he kisses your cheek, pulling you closer by the waist.

“You’re a true angel mon amour, when I saw you I thought I was getting redeemed into heaven that’s how heavenly you are.”

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[pearlynia]

I made coffee, but it's 1% coffee and 99% milk and sugar.

[pearlofthesirens]

once again, if you follow me or want to follow me, pls have your age on your bio or on your pinned thank you. i will remove you if you don't, my account is not for minors

[bambihrt]

HII HI

I love how you wrote Adam from hazbin hotel so I have a request! It is a little ANGSTY so if you don't want to do it it's okay!

Can you do Adam and his wife going to hell for extermination day and his wife saves him from nifty but also gets hurt by nifty?-

Sorry it's a little complicated I hope you have a good day!

thank you so much! i was listening to some sad music and let this get super angsty, i might come back and do a part 2 or an alternate ending later on

Dying was easy.

Waking up to the pearly gates and realizing you've been rewarded with heaven, made every decision in your life leading up to this moment worth it. You knew as long as you were a good person then good things would come to you. And the best thing you could ever hope for came in the shape of your husband Adam whom you met not long after entering heaven.

The angel was enamored the second he laid his eyes on you. Standing in line at the frozen yogurt shop while biting your lip and scanning the menu. You were the the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and being the first man, he'd seen a lot of women. He abandoned whatever Lute was saying to him and made his way over to you to strike up a conversation.

You two quickly formed a deep and intimate relationship. 'I love you's were all the other residents of heaven could hear when seeing the couple out. Over time you made your way up to being an exorcist as Adam hated parting with you for even a day. He couldn't think on the job properly as he'd count down the time until he got to see you again.

Though you didn't completely agree with extermination, this opinion was never voiced with your husband as you didn't see the conflict necessary. But this upcoming extermination day was worrying you. Of course, your husband being the man he is, had made an enemy of the princess of hell. As powerful as he may be and as nice as the girl was when you met her, you knew when push came to shove she'd have a lot better chance of winning a fight than he did. Your only peace of mind was that angels couldn't be killed. At the back of your mind you couldn't help but wonder 'what if they can be?'

You watched from afar while you were battling a hellborn, your husband fighting Lucifer, king of hell himself. The anxiety and pit in your stomach worsened the moment you saw one of your own go down. The second your husband met the ground, your instincts kicked in. While his back was turned in a rant, you watched a small red-headed girl make her way over. Your ears rang as you flew as fast as you can to push the love of your immortal life out of the way.

Your noble decisions seemed to still be giving you good luck as you had managed to save your Adam. Your presence drew the attention of everyone nearby. Seeing your lover's face look at your own brought you a smile. As you tried to speak to him you started to choke up. Coughing up gold liquid into your hand, you came to the same conclusion as when you had first become immortal. Dying was easy.

Black dots started to close around your vision and you fell to your knees. Your husband's arms caught you before you could fall onto your face. His face was horror-stricken. You tried to reach out to caress his cheek but you were too weak to make it. The wind lulled you to rest as he shot up to heaven's portal with you in his arms. The last thing you saw before your vision went black was Adam's face yelling out to you though you couldn't hear it.

[ittybittypearlygirly]

looking through old jpegs and found these visual puns/metaphors from an illustration class. my professor didn't like hardly any of them and with my abysmal self-esteem at the time, i just went with it

anyway looking back, these are the funniest freaking things ever so screw you, hala

[devil-in-hiding]

bully!Soap, I just read it and goD

Like seriously, he knows it's wrong to make you cry. To enjoy it. See the big, pearly tears crumble from the seams of your eyes when he spit out mocking words. It can go from the way you did your hair this morning to the redness behind your ankle because of your fuckin' stupid heels he despise-

He's like a five years old, doesn't know what to do with the turmoil of feeling in his chest when he sees you. Smiling at someone - someone that isn't him. His hands shake, and his cheeks burn, so Johnny's a meanie.

That won't do.

It makes him angry, sure, but your tears, your whimpers, the way you paws at his chest trying to push him back - no. No, no, no. That's his.

He will have blood on his hands soon. No one can see you in this state but him.

He lick a broad stripe of your wet cheek before leaving. He makes sure to lock the door of your office, course. Little bird in a cage.

(sorry for ranting but, yea. was thinking very hard)

HELLO MARRY ME WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

bully!soap has been in my notifs again and this now has me clawing at the fucking walls

he has been this way since you were children, not knowing what to do with the strange feelings you give him

so when you come back into his life and those feelings haven’t faded, it makes him confused, angry

angrier when he sees that the others get to see HIS cry baby, that they get to see how pretty pathetic your face looks when getting reprimanded

cornering you in the barracks, gripping your cheeks, waiting waiting waiting

“johnny stop! why do you always fucking-“

“they can’t see you like this.” he growls, and you blink, head swimming as he leans in, staring into your eyes

“this is for me. it always has been.” he hisses, his thumb digging into your cheek where a tear had slid and you wince, a fresh wave spilling over

“why are you so mean-“

“you drive me fucking crazy.”