First Lucifer Demon Style, What Do You Think?

First lucifer demon style, what do you think?

If you ever wonder why you can't win a dance battle

It may be because these fuckers can't dance for shit

So here the first picture of my Ikemen Vampire Mc/ Oc: Gwiyndolin Black

Asks for her are always open

Gwiyndolin fact #3:

She's a Pagan/Wiccan and don't like christianity because of the shit the church does since they exist.

But Jean is her precious angel and nothing will change that.

Gwiyndolin Black fact #1:

- This girl isn’t wearing skirts, and dresses as rarley as possible! No matter the century, not even when Comte begs her, she doesn’t care the looks she get from the people

LA CURIOSITÉ — JOHANN GEORG FAUST

i lowkey adore that feeling of fear and anticipation.

and i really enjoyed writing this afjabfhjbajfbjhabfajhbf, it’s 6:30 am ffs.

JOHANN GEORG FAUST x GN! READER

— warnings: faint mentions of needles and blades. blood. religious themes and biblical references. not nsfw, but slightly suggestive near the end ( ? ).

— summary: reader’s indulgence in their innocent curiosity turns to be a grave mistake. 

— words: ~2500

— tagging: @moonsirens​ , @judgemental-seal​ , @silhouette-of-a-dream​ , @thetwinkims​ , @nuttytani​ , @cheese-ception​ , @tsubaki3192​ , @lordsister​

empty. your voice strolled through the church and slammed against the walls, bouncing back to you as if unwanted. it was a bit unusual — although you’ve never seen this place overfilled with worshippers, you had quickly grown all too used to having at least one figure lingering under shattered and saturated purple light. without a single soul standing within these holy grounds, your surroundings felt a bit forlorn, yet somehow majestic at the same time. you’d always immerse yourself in a chit-chat or child’s plays upon stopping by, it was no wonder that you’d never taken a proper look around to absorb all of the exquisite details.

with barely cautious and steadily slow footsteps, you outstretched your neck to look up at the high ceiling above your head as you entered the church. the echo of your footfalls drummed across the building, reminding of shy drops of water diving into the puddle and leaving rings of ripples behind. the further you strolled, the warmer your surroundings became — flickering candle flames danced and melted their white wax dresses, enveloping the wide space in a cozy shade of honey gold. their fiery and twisting reflection moved along the surface of colourful glass, mixing with different hues and keeping the night’s darkness at bay. no wonder worshippers found refuge in such a space — you concluded — for it radiated a pleasant energy when painted in sepia like this. however, at the same time, a shiver ran down your spine; for darkness lurked in far-away corners and underneath the seats. you caught them from the corner of your eye — those shadows dressed in phantom cloaks of black swaying over the floor, waltzing along with the flames.

faust wouldn’t mind me being here by myself, right? familiar voice in your head whispered a question you immediately deemed rhetorical. of course he wouldn’t, for you were doing no harm. all you would do was simply admire his workplace while you waited for him to come back from wherever he had gone. you couldn’t blame him for his absence, as the man had absolutely no idea you’d stop by after the sunset. but here you were, eager to see more of the male and perhaps even hoping to catch him off guard. the thought alone made your chest flutter and throb in a bittersweet contrast of warmth and cold, bringing a chaste little smile to your face. you fancied the man — such was obvious — and his mysterious demeanour had tickled your interest and awoken your curiosity.

and curiosity was such a devilish, mischievous little thing.

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