Mun is 22 || Multiverse OC RP blog || 18+ blog so MDNI or you will be blocked || Open to any interactions!! You can just start an RP whenever || Asks always open! Will accept Anon Magic!
If you want his full character sheet, you can read it <Here>
"H... Hello! You really summoned me? Oh—my name is Désiré, I'm your Succubus tonight, but um... you already know that, haha.
...You want to know more about me? Okay, let's see... I'm a few centuries old now, I never really kept track though. I'm a man—huh? You thought I was a girl? W-Well that happens pretty often... You really don't mind? Oh, I'm glad!
What else... well, it's a little embarrassing but... I-In Hell I'm kind of known as the worst Succubus. It's because... I'm made a little bit defective, sometimes I sort of struggle with getting intimate... I just get so flustered and—but don't let that bother you! I can still try—
—H-Hey wait, where are you going? ...Damn it Désiré, lost another one. Now they're gonna all laugh at you. Again.
Open RPs:
One: A Little Mix Up... - Désire is happy to be summoned for the first time in a while, only to realize that he may not have been the target of the summoning in the first place.
Two: Demon in Disguise - Désiré finds what he thinks is the perfect meal while out people watching, and follows them to enter their dreams later. He doesn't anticipate that this was a trap, and the person knew what he was...
Three: Fighting Sweet Dreams - Désiré is trying to rejuvenate himself with a bit of dreamwalking. Unfortunately the human he picked seems to be the insomniac type, leaving Désiré to just watch them by their windows.
Four: Watching Up Above - Désiré is on a lone rooftop, watching the people below so he can better pretend to be a human. Unfortunately he fails to realize when he is no longer alone...
Abilities
💋 Dream Walking: I can enter people's dreams if I want to, I can even make a bad dream into a good dream!
💋 Sexual Energy Absorption: As a Succubi, I gain energy and power when having intercourse. I'm... not strong, at all. I'm probably the weakest Succubi in Hell...
💋 Demonic Deals: I'm still a demon, and I can still make Demon deals like one! I just um... don't really have anything that they want.
💋 Immortality: I don't age, so I'll be like this forever. I can still die I suppose, if someone kills me, but, um... please don't?
Hello, Viridonia here, but you can just call me Mun Viri! Thank you for RPing with me, or even just reading down this far, I still appreciate you either way <3
Viri's super simple rules!
The only DNI I have is for Minors, otherwise I'm not a big believer in DNIs and will just block as I see fit.
You don't need to be a mutual to interact! If you feel like your character would interact in some way with Désiré, then go on ahead! (If I don't reply, feel free to DM me because Tumblr blocks people without me, and I may not be able to interact 😭 )
You are allowed to like, hurt and Kidnap Désiré, but I'd like permanent injury to be talked about first.
Shipping is totally fine if you think they'd go well together!
If you want to have some pre-established dynamics between our characters, don't be afraid to ask!
I know that this is a Demon from Hell character, but honestly I don't touch the Hazbin Fandom with a 10 foot pole, sorry 😭
NSFW will be allowed (and tagged) on this blog, so if you dont want to see that I would suggest blocking the NSFT tag (Not Safe For Tumblr)
Despite Désiré being a Succubus, that's not the only kind of interaction you have to have with him! You can make deep plots or just casual interactions too. He's a little bit of a pathetic (affectionate) dork who needs more interaction anyways
For NSFT I DON'T do any bathroom stuff, vomit, feeder, blood play, knife play, woundfucking, or anything with bugs. I WILL do CNC, monsterfucking, somnophilia, Exhibitionism, improper use of magic—Even Mpreg. If you're not certain about a kink then please ask! If you want a full list of Désirés likes then I'll make one.
^^ Follow up, I made the Désiré List ^^
NSFT WILL ONLY HAPPEN BETWEEN ADULT CHARACTERS. Désiré can interact with kids—He's pretty good with kids, actually, but any kind of flirting or more will only happen between adult characters.
I'm probably gonna be not really on for the next couple of days, there was a death in the family a few days ago so I'm probably not gonna be up to RP with you all for a little bit.
Désiré grumbled as he paced in a circle, mumbling curses at himself for the situation he was in. It was his own fault, of course. But that didn't mean that he was going to keep quiet about it.
Désiré was currently trapped within a salt circle, in some room he didn't recognize, pacing the floor as his own annoyance burned footprints into the floor. The Demon knew of many different ways to trap or expel other Demons, but out of all of them, he hated salt the most. Not because of anything it did to him personally, but because it was ridiculously embarrassing to be stuck via edible rock dust.
He stared at the line in contempt, foot rapidly tapping against the floor as he tried to think of a way out of this. He couldn't break the floor, he wasn't stong enough for that, and there wasn't any kind of breeze to blow it away... what other options were there?
...Oh—wait, he had an idea.
Désiré took off his shirt, dropping it on the floor and just kind of moving it around with his foot, the fabric of the shirt slowly kicking away the self until there was a Succubus sized opening. He hopped through with a giddy laugh, kicking away his salt covered shirt before spinning around and dramatically pointing at the broken salt circle.
"Haha! You thought you could get one over on me, didn't 'cha. Well not today Satan! Not today!" The Demon proud proclaimed, before turning on his heels, and almost immediately tripping over his own shirt. Falling to the ground and knocking over and entire table's worth of stuff while he was down there. Yeah... not exactly his best moment.
Pretending to be something, or someone that you're not was considered rather rude for humans. But for Désiré, that was how he lived his entire life. He lied with the ease of a fish in water, and acted as smoothly as bees made honey. It was just natural, like it was practically in his DNA.
But there were small times when that big lie broke—sometimes by accident, sometimes it was just pure carelessness, and sometimes it was just instinct.
The Demon walked with human skin, all those unfavorable features hidden away for another day as he walked amongst people in plain sight. Pretending to be a human took hard work, but it was rewarding work. Pretending is what allowed him to live for so long, feeding off of people's dreams to sustain him for all those centuries.
Wiping some of the crumbs from his face, Désiré let out a happy little noise as he ate his sweet treat, food in one hand and coffee in the other. The streets were pretty quiet today, but he didn't mind, this was his day off. He didn't have to worry about anything else but himself.
But of course, all good things must come to an end. Désiré tripped, a part of his shoe breaking as his whole body jolted to correct itself. He caught his food, but the drink in his hand slipped, threatening to spill hot coffee all over himself. His hand faltered, the lid fell off, and in his panic, Désiré made a split second decision on pure instinct. His tail came out, wrapping around the coffee and shoving the lid back on.
The Demon stabled himself again, letting out a relieved sigh that lasted for about half a second before the "Oh Fuck" kicked in and he'd realized just what he'd done. Désiré's head immediately swiveled, checking to make sure that no one saw him, only for the dread to sink in as he realized that there was someone behind him. His mouth moved before his brain could even finish processing who exactly was tanding there, blurring out the first thing that came to mind.
Désiré was old, there was no denying that. Old by human standards, at least. Over 600 years was nothing to laugh at, and all the wisdom and knowledge that he must have accumulated through all those lifetimes was more that what most humans would comprehend.
You'd think that someone like him would be able to use it better though.
Désiré grunted as he stretched, the hole far too deep for his frankly tiny arms to reach. His fingers barely grazed at something shiny—a ring, one that he had just finished getting cleaned when some jackass that wasn't paying attention knocked him over, the ring slipping from his fingers and down into that stupid hole.
Désiré huffed as he took his hand out, looking down into the hole as if it had personally offended him. His ring was literally right there—he could see the way the blue gemstone reflected the light even through the dirt. That piece was over 200 years old, the jewel alone was worth enough to put a down-payment on a three bedroom house. Running his other hand down his face with a groan, Désiré put his hand back in, trying his damn best to ring back, muttering curses under his breath.
"Not being pregnant anymore means that I can eat and drink all the things I wasn't allowed to just in case. I'm going to order some king mackerel cooked with wine with a drink of caffeine infused herbal tea."
(( lmao if I suddenly dissapeared from the face of the earth it's probably because I accidentally ingested 360 mg of caffeine as someone with a caffeine intolerance and I like exploded or something lmao.
The first time Désiré ever got summoned to earth, he was 14 years old. Chronologically, at least. He was created with the body of an adult and spent all those earlier years learning how to be a proper Demon, and this was supposed to be the time that he was going to be thrown to his final test.
But, apparently the man who wanted to Summon the Virgin Succubus wasn't very good at the summoning part. And Sylan'driel landed a little off course. He was still on earth, just... somewhere different.
When Sylan'driel's eyes fluttered open for the very first time, the first thing he was was... an endless blue so vast and far for a moment the Demon thought that he was on the front door of heaven. But then there were sounds, like pretty whistling and something flew by. The Demon had managed to find himself in a clearing, out in the middle of nowhere to humans, but to Sylan'driel, this was everything.
There were these—these tall green things! And the ground was covered in smaller green things that... mm. They didn't taste very good, but that didn't matter, this was amazing! The still very young Demon—who was still completely naked mind you—rolled around on the grass, feeling the bright warm sky light on his skin.
But then he saw something that caught his eye more than anything else. It was another, uh... thingy. A green thing, but this time it was pink like him, and looked like a heart. A word entered Sylan'driel's mind. "Flower." This was.. a flower! And it was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. There was no sky in Hell, no plants or sun, and certainly no flowers. But for some reason he was here, and even a little Demon like him had to admit that he was blessed.
By the time that the man who had summoned him git it right, Sylan'driel was covered in those bleeding heart flowers, doing nothing to cover his body but certainly adding to his beauty. This encounter... would not end well for Sylan'driel, his first failure to be that almost cost him his life, even if he didn't know that last part. But even if this day ended in his failure, he would always remember the first time he got to see true beauty.
Tw: Descriptions of skin melting, body horror, severe starvation, torture, murder, and cannibalism
Désiré may love to walk into the dreams of others, getting a... decent meal and a little sneaky peek into the lives of strangers.
But he hates his own Dreams. Désiré truly can't stand it when he dreams in his own mind. Unlike Dreamwalking where he is always aware and in control, his dreams were always so intense, feeling near indistinguishable to reality.
And considering the kinds of things he dreamed, that was never a good thing.
Sometimes it was the little nothings. Just of small events and dream-warped conversations from centuries past that he didn't even know he remembered. Those dreams were the easiest, waking up with more than a small "...Huh." and becoming nothing more than something to forget by supper time.
But the other times, he was there again.
Chains rattling against old, stone walls, echoing from deep beneath the earth where The Blight lived... no, not lived. There was nothing "Living" left down here. It was just a corpse strung to a wall, one that still had the gull to breathe. This thing was a rot, the mold that grew out of Sylan'driel'a corpse and cursed this land with its presence. It was not supposed to exist. God.. please... please he didn't want to exist—
Flesh bubbled and boiled, something of skin that was supposed to be the colour pink dripping down his emaciated body. Flesh barely clung to bone as it melted away, the smell of stone and dirt mixing with acidic blood as skin turned to a pinkish paste, peeling back to reveal whatever was left of muscle underneath. Désiré could remember all of it. The awful smell that burned through his nose, body barely able to move as he was forced to sit in a puddle of his own flesh. Sunken eyes could barely take in any sunlight, and yet the slightest look up—Désiré didn't know why he always had to look up.
There was always someone there, not always the same, but always someone. Sometimes it was the bishop, sometimes a movie director. Sometimes it was another Demon, a king, a friend, a.... a love. Those ones he hated the most. Seeing their eyes looking down on him—always the same. With pure contempt and rage, like he deserved to be down there. Like he wasn't a person who's nerves were constantly on fire from the sheer constant agony it just blended into the background noise of his mind. He was just a Blight. An It. A Demon. It wasn't... it wasn't fair. He didn't do anything. Don't look at him like that—Stop fucking looking at him like that!
There was no control, no thoughts, only the all-consuming hunger and the sounds of chains snapping under broken wrists. Fingers would always bleed against stone, cracking into the walls as he was forced to climb his own way back up, his only guiding light being the stars that taunted him for decades upon decades. The Blight would climb up. It's monstrous, broken body lunging deep into the other person's chest.
He could not stop, he could not stop. Not when the sounds of screaming and flesh ripping, snapping bones finally opened up his prize, beating a lovely melody just for him. The screaming stopped, just the summer breeze moving the limbs of the trees above as teeth sank into a burst of... oh, it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted in his life. The Blight would hunger upon it like a savage animal, jaw unhinging as tongue wrapped around the delight and pulled it into the starving maw, tears running down its face from pure, unfiltered joy.
"H.... ha... hah h a... I.... I'..m so.. rry. I'm so... I'm.... I'm soor y.... ha ha h... ha....."
The beautiful red ran down his chin like it was chasing his tears, mixing together in the empty, dripping cavity of... of.. hah... why did he do that? Why did... he didn't want to. He didn't want to hurt them, so... why?
"I'm sorry... I'm... I—Sob.... I-I' so.... S.. orr yy.... I'm sorry... I di d'n..t mea n..... I..m—p-plees... I'm sorry..."
Désiré always awoke. Every single dream always had to come to its end.
He'd shoot out of bed, nails digging into soft flesh as mouth opened wide in an agonizing, silent scream. He would not breathe, just grasp and shake until his waking brain caught up with the real world again. Bed... not dirt. Soft. The moon, the air... he was here. He wasn't there. He wasn't him.
Désiré learned long ago that screaming truly would do nothing, just catch unwanted attention. So Désiré would not scream as he could still feel the phantom pain of peeled skin, or the sounds of Holy chains, nor the... the taste that he was trying so hard to forget. He would not scream, but he would allow himself a single, broken sob before a hand would fly up to silence anything else. The Demon would cry, pulling himself as close together as he did in that well, making himself as small as he felt back then.
Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could pretend that his own arm was someone else's warm embrace, or that the open window's breeze was a kind hand lulling him back from fear. It wasn't, he was alone, curled up in a ball crying to himself over something that happened centuries ago. But Désiré was a good liar, maybe if he kept saying it, one day he'd be able to lie to himself.
You'd think that a Sex Demon would have a lot of experience Masterbating, right? With a lot of special toys at his disposal ready to be used to fulfil his lust?
WRONG
You'd think that a Sex Demon would enjoy watching other people have sex? Drawing each other to debauchery and fulfilling their sinful desires?
[LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]
This man literally could not care less. The only thing he likes is collecting sexy roleplay outfits but that's just for himself, because he feels sexy and cute in them.
Désiré doesn't actually feel compelled to masterbate, he finds it rather pointless if it doesn't feed him. And being in the cuck chair? What the FUCK would he ever want that?? If he isn't involved in the action this shitty Succubus will give you a thumbs down and straight up fall asleep until it's all over.
The only exception is if he ever decided to do like an OnlyFans or something like that, since now he can wear all his sexy roleplay outfits, masterbate with an audience, and make everyone else sit in the digital cuck chair. It's a win-win-win!!!
Désiré feels love... very intensly. For a lot of reasons.
It's partially because of the severe... severe abandonment, the trauma he faced, and the soul crushing loneliness. He was abandoned by his creator for his perceived "brokenness," not seen as Demon enough to be a part of his own culture, and not human enough to escape his persecution. He was so, so alone and yet still wanted to be a part of the world that seemed to not welcome his existence, because when Désiré—When Sylan'driel loved, he did it with every beat of his heart.
And then, Sylan'driel was betrayed by someone who loved him, and he learned in that moment that it did not matter how much of his love he tried to pour out into the world, it would never love something like him back. He was stabbed through his open heart, so he tried so hard to scoop it all back up and sew it shut so he'd never feel the near century of pure torture at the hands of someone who "Loved Him" ever again.
But it was hard. Désiré had already opened that pandora's box—A Demon capable of love like a human, and it wasn't one that wanted to be shut. He kept himself closed off, shrugging off any kind of emotional intimacy with lies and manipulations, keeping himself at a constant distance and never letting anyone near like that again. But it made his chest ache, yearning turning into a dull void sinking into his chest and filling him with a mask of apathy.
But when those stitches open again, it's not because he wants them to. God knows just how much he tried to ignore the feeling of snipped string coming loose, or the closed distance he tried to keep. When Désiré loves, he loves like an open wound, still damaged and bleeding out all over. It's warm, and freeing, it's terrifying, it's so vulnerable it makes him sick. He wants this, and he's scared that he wants this so badly after everything that happened the last time.
Désiré was created by lust, a being crafted by a literally feeling—of course he would feel love so fully and completely. He's intense, even as he's bleeding he's trying to put his whole heart into it because he can't make the bleeding stop on his own anymore. But he's still scared, like always. What if it's too much? What if he bleeds too fully and drowns them? What if they peek inside his wounds and see how damaged and ugly he is inside? Is he doing too much? Is he going to scare them away.
Désiré is fully aware of his nature, and he knows how... intense, he can be. So when he feels his own heart pounding against his chest, wrapping his arms around the one he loves, he'll keep all that extra to himself. For now. And just learn how to enjoy the moment again without fear that it will all end up the same as last time.
I LOVE COLLABORATIVE SOTRYTELLING I LOVE CREATING THINGS TOGETHER I LOVE "YES AND"ING WITH OTHERS I LOVE "NO BUT WHAT ABOUT-"S I LOVE HEARIJG MY FRIENDS' IDEAS I LOVE BOUNDING OFF OF THEM I LOVE ART I LOVE STORIES I LOVE ALL THE DIFFERENT PASSIONS AND SKILLS REQUIRED I LOVE ALL THE DIFFERENT MEDIA IT TAKES I LOVE I LOVE I LOVE
"I think that every Demon should fall in love and every Demon should be friends with at least one Angel because it actually feels pretty nice but if I said any of that in Hell they would try to execute me again."
"Yeah I've... realized that. Very extremely superbly not fun. I swear I can still feel that fucking spider in my throat, man I hate that guy so much. I can't believe I ever wanted his approval."
You might've even heard of a few in the, errr, scripture thingies throughout history ...
Though, then again, i believe humans ripped off a lot of our scattered history to twist and stitch together into the malformed 'Holy Bible' humans still read today.
O' Catholicism... how i miss killing your vile Crusaders."
Désiré bluescreened, stamming as his mind was split between being called a special wittle baby and an Angel telling him that his creation was a good thing.
"I—w-what?" He struggled out. "Since when was that a thing?? I'm, huh? Sorry—hold on..."
Dés ran his hands down his face in sheer confusion, though... it didn't necessarily sound like a bad thing.
Humming in thought, tapping a finger to his chin, his neck snapped to the side with his big infamous grin. Eyes opening up all down his crooked neck. "Technically speaking?
Well, most angels reach maturity at a thousand." Cassiel made silly jazz hands at his succubus son. His newly claimed son. "A full century turn."
"O-Oh..." Désiré mumbled, shifting from side to side on his feet. He felt... warm, though he wasn't quite sure if it was embarrassment or something else. He seemed to stop to think for a moment, looking at the floor.
"Um... yeah... okay. Okay. I mean I can't say that I'm not surprised—I don't think there's much about me worth choosing... but if you're happy about it, then I guess I can be to."
"I think that every Demon should fall in love and every Demon should be friends with at least one Angel because it actually feels pretty nice but if I said any of that in Hell they would try to execute me again."
"Yeah I've... realized that. Very extremely superbly not fun. I swear I can still feel that fucking spider in my throat, man I hate that guy so much. I can't believe I ever wanted his approval."
You might've even heard of a few in the, errr, scripture thingies throughout history ...
Though, then again, i believe humans ripped off a lot of our scattered history to twist and stitch together into the malformed 'Holy Bible' humans still read today.
O' Catholicism... how i miss killing your vile Crusaders."
Désiré bluescreened, stamming as his mind was split between being called a special wittle baby and an Angel telling him that his creation was a good thing.
"I—w-what?" He struggled out. "Since when was that a thing?? I'm, huh? Sorry—hold on..."
Dés ran his hands down his face in sheer confusion, though... it didn't necessarily sound like a bad thing.
"I'm—I'm over 600 years old—I'm not a baby..."
Come and Fulfill your Désiré @sweetest-desire - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
