#harmoni writes

[cracklewink]

Harmony Syndrome Part 5/5

The last chapter of my mlp infection AU! Thank you to everyone who followed along. Some final thoughts on my twitter @cracklewink if anyone's interested : )

[pinkmirth]

i need more cowboi reiner tryna knock u up pls 🥺 👉 👈

⸻ STUFFED!

SYNOPSIS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ reiner just can’t seem to control how hungry he is for you. what better way to make you his than by stuffing you full of him?

CONTAINS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 2.5k+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, countryside setting, established relationship, reiner has a big fat breeding kink, sex flashbacks, doggie style, standing sex, creampie, use of pet names (ex. mama, sugar, honey), reader calls reiner ‘papa’, mentions of pregnancy, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

MY LOVE NOTE! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ it’s undeniable that cowboy reiner’s got a raging breeding kink. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts, my love! now here’s rei-rei bein’ a shameless feen for his pretty girl! 🎀

reiner’s terribly distracted.

the last thing he wants to do is lay blame, but in a way, you’re the reason why. the mere thought of you is enough to make this cowboy go buckwild. rei-rei swears he usually has more self control, it’s just that you strip him of all common sense.

you, pretty little you, make him all scatterbrained. his head’s been filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you on a date seven months ago. you’ve turned him into some fool in love, for goodness’ sake.

memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.

with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.

he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.

with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.

you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.

reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.

reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.

“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.

“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, and ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.

it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 

reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.

“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 

“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.

“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.

reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking this week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.

“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 

now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.

having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.

“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.

“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 

he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 

the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.

he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.

reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.

“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 

reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.

he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning. 

[gummi-ships]

[hedgehog-moss]

Writers who use imitative harmony + the movement of their language to evoke meaning are so great to re-read once you’ve learnt this language, if you’ve read them in translation before, it feels like the best reward. I’m reading Annie Proulx in the original for the first time, and so much of her writing style was just not salvageable by French translators (< my condolences), because she intertwines sound with meaning so often, at least in Close Range, and French just doesn’t sound the same! so by translating the meaning you’ll sacrifice a lot of the style... It reminds me of a haunted house book in French that also made me think “haha RIP translators” because it made great use of sound—a lot of “u / eu / ou” to create a sort of sinister howling effect in some sentences, and one sentence about a closed door used “i” and “rr” sounds to give an ominous “creaking open” sensation without actually opening the door in the text...

This kind of thing always makes me reflect despairingly on how many authors I’ll never get to appreciate fully as I can’t read them in the original, but I’m glad to re-discover Annie Proulx at any rate! I mean compare the sound of a phrase like “a hundred dirt road shortcuts” to the French “des centaines de raccourcis, des routes de terre”... First of all the English phrase sounds clippety-cloppy, it sounds like hooves on a dirt road in a way that’s very hard to preserve in a language without syllable stress, but also the French language demands that you turn it into ‘a hundred of shortcurts of roads of dirt’, so it’s best to dilute it into two phrases, and you just lose the clippedness. It sounds less tight, more leisurely.

Same for the phrase “the tawny plain still grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts” vs. “la plaine fauve encore marquée des ornières laissées par les chariots des pèlerins.” That’s a 54% expansion ratio and once again you turn the tight clippedness of ‘grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts’ into ‘grooved with the ruts left by the wagons of the pilgrims.’ You just can’t avoid it, French words have to hold hands in a long procession rather than being stacked like pancakes on top of one another. And sometimes it makes for lovely stylistic effects too (*), but it doesn’t fit the style of a text like this one, which uses rhythm and sound in a very un-French way—rhythmicality in French tends to rely on long flowy phrasings rather than the potholed ruggedness this story demands. (I saw a NY Times article describe it as Annie Proulx “mining the ore of language out of a gritty Wyoming rockscape”)

The rhythm of this whole bit is so neat, you can snap your fingers along with it: “hard orange dawn, the world smoking, snaking dust devils on bare dirt, heat boiling out of the sun until the paint on the truck hood curled, ragged webs of dry rain that never hit the ground, through small-town traffic and stock on the road, band of horses in morning fog...”

The French version is not finger-snapping material but you can tell the translator did her very best to preserve the author’s intention by creating interesting rhythms in French as well. For “hard orange dawn” she could have kept close to the original with, say, “la dureté orange de l’aube” but instead she chose to turn ‘hard’ into a four-syllable adjective (éblouissante / blinding) to end up with a noticeable rhythm—“les aubes orange, éblouissantes,” one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four (and she made ‘dawn’ plural for the same reason.) She wasn’t able to preserve the g/r alliteration of “GRooved with pilGRim waGon Ruts” (although her translated phrase also has a lot of R’s) but she did preserve the ‘sss’ alliteration of “Smoking Snaking duSt” (“pouSSière Serpentant Sur le Sol”). Even with languages as close as French and English, for every stylistic effect you can save you have to sacrifice a few, or replace them with opposite effects which align better with your language’s notions of literary style (like with the orange dawn bit, doubling the length of a tight phrase so it can sound rhythmical).

You can tell all throughout the book that a lot of thought and care went into respecting Annie Proulx’s writing choices and you still end up with sentences that sound and move so differently. You get to see the limit of translation when authors fully lean on their language’s syntax and melody to help convey meaning, like poets do!

(*) Re: English stacking words and French linking them—this reminds me of an essay I read by an English translator of Proust who despaired of this difference in the opposite direction—saying some long, descriptive phrases in Proust with articles & prepositions linking words, and commas linking phrases with regularity, read like telling the beads of a rosary. And the sensation (or a lot of it) had to be sacrificed because English just does not use as many linking words as French, information is conveyed in a more economical way, so a lot of these sentences with a hypnotic rhythm like “the A, of the B, of the C, whereby the D, of the E, on an F” were often not achievable with English syntax or created redundancy (e.g. having to use ‘that’ or ‘which’ 5 times when French used different tool words). But he said he did try to form sentences that had this continuity, and meditative quality.

I don’t have a conclusion to this post other than to say something precious will be lost if human translation is replaced by AI translation, because literary translation involves creativity and ambiguity and aesthetic considerations and a dimension of instinctual feeling for your own language and the original style, and I don’t think any amount of data and processing power and artificial neural networks will yield the flavour of literary quality that emerges from human sensibility and care, from someone reading a sentence and thinking “this feels like hooves clippety-clopping down a dirt road” or “this feels like rolling the beads of a rosary” and starting from there...

[stere0typical]

Your best friend dies. Your best friend hasn't been your best friend for centuries, in fact they've been known to refer to you as an enemy.

But your best friend has died and wants their remains to be brought home. And you agree to bring them back to where you grew up together (as best friends) because that was your best friend.

And on the way your best friend comes back, as some unnatural version of themselves that isn't your best friend and you both crash. You get greviously injured, so bad in fact everything about you changes, not just your exterior but the very fibre of your being. You've changed before but now you're more unlike your best friend than ever.

And your best friend, no longer dead, decides to destroy the whole universe, everything anybody has ever known or loved or cherished, but you stop them at the last minute, because that's the waltz you and your best friend have been dancing to for decades.

And you see your best friend hurt people and you forgive them anyway because that's your best friend; how could you they ever be unforgivable?

And your best friend refuses to take your hand. Your best friend refuses to accept your forgiveness, rather dying than accepting your outstretched hand.

You're enemies, aren't you?

Your best friend dies. You bring them home.

[brynn-lear]

Reconteur || Yandere!Dainsleif x Reader by @harmonysanreads fanart <3

Prompt: You've been under his radar for years but now that he's tracked you down, an unknown child who mirrors his blue Khaenriahn eyes guards you with his small and very fragile life. Those eyes... They're eerily familiar.

[harmonysanreads]

Heavens...

[brianmaysclog]

figured I should hop onto the Richboy! Gojo trend i’ve been seeing!

warnings: blood, period. afab reader.

a/n: not proofread lol. wrote this when my phone was at 10% so a bit rushed. had this idea for a while. Richboy! Gojo drinks nothing but respect y/n juice everyday.

Richboy! Gojo who has had his eye on you for months.

Richboy Gojo! whom you can’t stand because he’s entitled and gets whatever he wants.

Richboy! Gojo who practically begs you to go out with him! just one date and he’ll stop. and to get him to shut up, you say yes. to one date.

The day of the date comes and your stomach hurts but you figured it was just nerves.

Richboy! Gojo who picks you up right on time. Not a minute early, not a minute late. He takes you to the destination. The mall. You figured it was so he can flaunt off his money, but really it’s to get to know you. What you like and don’t like. Ideas for future gifts and surprises.

Now your stomach really hurts. Really, really hurts. You excuse yourself to the restroom and rush there. To no avail, there’s blood. Enough to seep through the pants you’re wearing. great.

you have no idea how you’re going to get out of this and how you’re gonna cover this up.

You must have been there a while because eventually Richboy! Gojo comes knocking on the door. “y/n? is everything okay.”

you could tell him to screw off and leave you alone but he’s your only way out. You open up the door. “Go-“ but you don’t get many words out because Richboy! Gojo has already looked down and seen the stain on your pants.

“stay here. don’t leave. i’ll be right back.” and with that he grabs the door shut.

it’s been 30 minutes, an hour maybe when finally you hear a knock on the door. “y/n? can i come in?”

you get up and unlock the door and let him in. Richboy! Gojo walks in with multiple bags in hand.

“okay for starters I didn’t know if you used cups, pads, or tampons so I got a box of each.” he hands them to you and continues on. Then I went around to multiple stores and found you some new underwear too. Grabbed a few pairs for you too because I wasn’t sure what you preferred.” He then hands you a Victorias Secret bag. “then I stopped by another store selling leggings and got you, again a few pairs in different styles and sizes. Anything that doesn’t fit we can just return.” He hands you the last bag and gets ready to walk out, but before doing so, tunes back towards you.

“Oh yeah I got you these too, just incase you’re cranking.” He tosses you a bottle of Tylenol and leaves the bathroom. You sort through the bags and grab what you need.

Once dressed Richboy! Gojo takes the remainder of the bags (bloodied clothes tossed into a bag you had emptied). “I can take these to the car, and then we can continue on here. Or we can leave. it’s up to you.”

“I don’t care.” warming up to this Gojo. who isn’t as consisted and spoiled as you thought. “as long as it’s with you.”

[rubberduckyrye]

You know I've seen quite a few people say they're wanting to make v3 rewrites lately--and as someone who is actively working on one by myself, I feel like I should give some advice. I know I'm nowhere NEAR done with Twins AU, but I've made a ridiculous amount of progress and I think these things have greatly helped me out personally

So here are my tips for making a V3 rewrite and actually making it stick/not to burn out before the first chapter!

This is important. Don't try to please everyone. You will never please everyone. Write this for yourself, and you will find an audience. People can and will hate your fic no matter what you do. Don't try to please them, they are not your target audience-- so Write this story for, first and foremost, yourself. It'll feel so much more rewarding if you do I promise.

V3's main theme is extremely muddied due to how the narrative was and how open ended the game was left, and from my own research, no one can agree on what V3 was trying to say about truth and lies, or Reality and Fiction. If you want to rewrite this story, you're going to need to narrow down what you want your rewrite to say about the themes presented.

PLAN THE EVIDENCE AND MURDERS AS THOROUGHLY AS YOU CAN. I think not knowing what I was going to do for the cases and trials really scared me for the longest time until I essentially sat myself down and fleshed out all of the cases for Twins AU. Make evidence lists, do research on how your murder cases might go, the works. It's a lot of work but I personally followed this post and also made an evidence list to help me out plot out the murders for Twins AU. This is also a great way to flesh out your protagonist as well, since you get to explore their note-taking style and what kind of language they'd use for taking notes and if they have opinions about certain things.

Write a summary of each character in the story. DR games have a big cast and V3 has an even BIGGER cast than usual, so it's good to write down summaries for all of the characters. I also suggest really studying each character too, even if you plan on changing a character to better suit your tastes (or to get rid of offensive material.... looking at you Angie) you still want to keep the core of their character intact for fans of that character.

Speaking of characters, make sure to try and remember to write each one as a human being, even if they aren't human (Kiibo for example). Develop them, give them quirks and flaws, motivations and wants and desires and dreams. Even if you hate a character, doing this much character study will help you keep them in character and keep their motivations reasonable and understandable.

If you don't have a good grasp on a character, study harder. Don't go looking for other people's interpretations or try to be a crowd pleaser. Make your own interpretation, and that interpretation becomes special to your rewrite.

If you plan on changing a character, for the love of GOD do your research first. Don't go accidentally making Angie into a worse racist caricature of Pacific Islanders Please and Thank You. Actually, just do a ton of research in subject you think might be relevant to a character or the plot--like Gonta and how ableism prevails in his story. Like how Shuichi has anxiety up the wazoo and how Maki has learned helplessness. Study and research hard.

Pace yourself--I don't think people realize how GIANT a V3 rewrite project is--remember that this game is extremely long and you cannot write this in a single month. Once all of your planning is done, write a reasonable amount for it each day. For me, I'm able to crank out 2k a day because I type absurdly fast, but most people would probably want to start at maybe 500 words a day.

If you're not having fun, step back. You might be burnt out and need a break, or maybe the scene you're writing is just not working. Take time to assess your own feelings and do what is appropriate to resolve them.

Don't feel too discouraged if you need to rewrite a whole scene--it happens to the best of us and sometimes things are just not working. It's not lost progress to retry--consider the scene you are replacing as a rough draft you need to remake. I've had to erase huge 1k chunks due to this.

Reward yourself for big accomplishments! When I finished the prologue, I threw myself and my editor ( @trans-shuichisaihara ) a pizza party, and I plan on doing something like that again, albeit probably cheaper. Reward yourself for huge milestones! Hell, I owe myself at least one treat for two chapters I've written, but tbh I've been having so much fun just writing that doing so is rewarding within itself. That doesn't mean external factors can't help, so if you finish a chapter and you're proud of it, buy yourself a treat for working so hard!

If you got a friend who likes editing/beta reading, invite them to beta read for you! They can help you find errors and typos that you might've missed. If you plan on editing your fic, I highly recommend reading your writing out loud to help you find weird sentence structures and awkward phrases. This should have the bonus of making it easier for people who use screen readers/just prefer audiobooks to enjoy your fic as well!

EDIT! Here are two more:

It's okay to be scared writing something new! Getting out of your comfort zone is going to happen with a giant story like this, and maybe you're going to flop at the best parts. That's perfectly fine!!! You can always edit it later--or even just call it "good enough" and move on! This is fanfic for fun, not a professional project you're making money off of. It's okay if things are less than ideal and incredible imperfect. An imperfect story is at least written. That's better than not writing it at all.

For the love of everything that is holy, remember that the characters should be people--and remember that their talents do not make up their entire personality. Their talents should not solely dictate what they wear, how they act, or the worst offender in this fandom--how their executions go. When writing a character Execution, think instead of what would be the worst way for that character to die--that is to say, what would bring them the most despair upon their death. DR1 and DRV3's executions all play with the despair of the blackened in each execution (with DR2 being noted to heavily miss the mark and to be the set of executions that are the most disappointing to Kodaka, from what I've been told.) So if you're stuck on writing a new Execution, try to think about what each execution from DR1 and DRV3 does to play with the despair of the blackened. What about their executions are giving them despair in their final moments? Do they at all relate to their talents, or are they completely separate from their talent? Study them, and you'll be able to use that information to write your own unique executions that are miles better than most of the fan made executions out there.

And I think that's my advice for now! Happy writing, everyone!

[lampochkaart]

Hey, guys!

I finally found time and energy to edit and rewrite some parts in my fic for my DRV3 Exlibrium AU

I also drew a picture that appears in this fic that you can see in this post

You can read the new version of the fic here:

I rewrote some things I didn't exactly liked, and added a scene inside the House of Bones (because I realised that you need knowledge of the comic itself to understand what happens and most people who read the fic do not have that knowledge so i shouldn't be a coward and actually write the scene)

So, anyway, if you're interested, you can read it, I think I turned out pretty cool

Also, I will edit the other fic of this AU soon too

[rexecutioner]

Sorry ive been so inactive recently, I have a life that I needed to get back to for a bit! I am returning with a new hyperfixation (i am seven years late)

I drew me and my friend’s favorite characters in a silly artstyle!! We are going through the game together and we are almost done with Chapter Four (i am so scared) (ignore how tiny Rantaro’s head is) (i rant in the tags beware)

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝒢ℒ𝒰𝒯𝒯𝒪𝒩𝒪𝒰𝒮!

↶*ೃ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓃𝒶𝓊ℊ𝒽𝓉𝓎 '𝓁𝒾𝓁 𝓃𝓎𝓂𝓅𝒽ℴ! ˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. it takes reiner his all to keep up with his horny little vixen of a girlfriend.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮༉‧₊˚. (7.2k words of . . . ) reiner braun x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern college au, brat tamer!reiner, bratty!reader, feminine “girly-girl” reader, established relationship, themes of coercion, reader has a high libido, switch!reader, size kink, grinding, dry-humping, make-out session, f!masturbation, panty ripping, spanking (only once), finger-sucking, fingering, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, floor sex, mating press, reiner being a tiny bit aggressive (but affectionately!!!), soft dom!reiner, use of pet names (honey, love, baby, darling), explicit language, minors shoo!

ℐ𝒩𝒮𝒫𝒪 𝒯ℛ𝒜𝒞𝒦 — loveeeeeee song; rihanna, future

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 . . . this is extremely self indulgent!!! all i want is for reiner to put me in my place and tell me what to do >< a girl can dream! ♡︎

It’s 12:06 AM. The clock ticks and Reiner sighs.

He incessantly shifts in his desk chair, being held in the confines of his quaint home office. Reiner glares at the laptop before him with great disinterest. The screen casts a dull lighting over his sharp features. 

If there were anything capable of completing this damned project for him, he wouldn’t be so high-strung. He sucks in air through his teeth before letting out a weary exhale. 

All it takes is the sudden clicking of a doorknob to tear him away from his thoughts.��

He turns to be met with the sight of you emerging from your room, pedicured feet carrying you across the carpeted floors of your shared apartment. He pulls away from the MacBook’s screen, chair creaking under his weight as he swivels around to face you.

Reiner can’t help himself from hungrily examining your scanty attire— adorned in a smooth, silken nightdress. The soft pink gown you wear has the thinnest straps, and the most revealing design. It’s noticeably short, with the laced hem stopping precisely at your upper thigh, neckline dipping real low. Your supple skin and bouncy cleavage lay bare to your boyfriend’s piercing eyes. 

A faint smell of sugar is detected in the air. Reiner indulges in the familiar saccharine scent of your favorite perfume as you approach him. You rotate his chair to completely face you, assertively dropping onto his lap. Amused, he allows your hands to rub along his broad shoulders. Lowering your lips to the shell of his ear, you whisper. “Hi, Rei.” 

His strong arms envelop your waist as an instant reaction. Reiner can feel his tensive mood lessen under your sparing touch. The warmth of your presence filters into his senses as you lazily circle your arms around him.

Reiner makes sure to greet you with a soft peck, as always. He briefly licks his lips after. You taste of strawberry gloss. “My love,” He responds, words gentle and doting when he calls out to you. He puts on a small smile, but it’s all too easy to detect the gravelly detail of exhaustion in his deep voice.

“You tired, hm? My poor baby,” you softly murmur, hands running through his sandy blonde hair and tousling it between your fingers. He releases a content hum as your nails stroke his scalp. “I’m fine, ‘hon.” Reiner insists, “I just… wish I could take my mind off this.” 

You peer down at him through wispy lashes. “Do you need a distraction?” arousal produces a sweet drawl in your words. Your lips curl up to form the sultriest of smiles. He can read your indecent intentions with little effort.

Your touch runs down his body, ruffling over the olive green sweatshirt he has on. It’s a shame, how the fabric conceals his sculpted muscles. Your hand trails along his deliciously firm biceps while the other settles on his broad chest. He finds comfort in the way your filed nails repetitively graze against his collarbone. 

How cunning you are, trying to coax and flatter him into bed! Especially when you know just how hard it is for him to refuse you. Reiner searches for a suitable answer. Admittedly, he'd much rather allow you to whisk him away, despite his responsibilities that condemn the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you’re preoccupied…” You make a glossy pout, since it always works in breaking him. Though, he seems to have worn a thicker armor of refrain tonight. One that isn’t as flexible to your vixenish schemes and bratty tendencies. 

“You know I am, love.” Reiner sighs. He wants more than anything to please you. It’s all he ever does and the only thing he yearns to do. But there comes a time where he has to put his foot down. 

“I’m busy,” he emphasizes. It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself instead of you. Sure, he’s occupied, but that shouldn’t matter. He can tell that you need him, can’t he? Badly, too. Your boyfriend should know that resisting you is futile.

You deftly roll your eyes before he brings his palm to warmly cup your soft cheek. “You get that, right honey?” He wants you to look him in the face and understand the words coming out of his mouth. No use in that— You’re probably only thinking of all the ways he could be using it to eat you out. 

“Reiner, baby… c’mon.” You shift your weight onto his lap, slow-grinding with the most subtle rock of your hips. He knows you to be unpredictable, and he’s fond of it; you keep him on his toes. But this? It’s sly and abrupt, enough to make his breath catch in his throat. His low grunt spills into your ear as he instinctively bucks upward.

Reiner should be used to your teasing by now, especially considering that he’s been your boyfriend of well-over two years. Yet, the apples of his cheeks bloom a faint red as if the way you move atop his body is a foreign feeling. You giggle when he averts his hazel eyes and looks fixedly elsewhere. 

Again, you roll in slow circles to friction against him, and he unsteadily whimpers your name. “You’re so hard,” you tease him with a dulcet laugh. Reiner furrows his thin brows, flustered. He can feel his blood rushedly streaming south. 

“I make you that excited?” Look at you, asking as if you don’t know the answer. Reiner wants to scoff. You know good and well of the dire effect you have on your man. 

He gives in, just for a moment, to grasp at your waist with newfound fervor, holding you down and guiding your body with sturdy hands. He directs the way your hips gyrate, dragging you over his erection. Your breath hitches, clinging at his broad shoulders.

“Fuck. You know what you do to me,” He breathes out, slightly tossing his head back onto the headrest. You take the opportunity to close in on his exposed neck. He smells rich and earthy, like that of sandalwood. Reiner basks in the eagerness of your messy kisses, gloss and saliva lingering on the column of his throat. 

“Come to the room, Reiner.” You murmur against his jugular, nipping until the taste of his skin settles upon the tip of your tongue. The seat creaks when the both of you shift and adjust yourselves, grinding into each other with bated breath. You lift your head to stare into his darkened gaze, making another effort to persuade him. “I know you want to.”

Boldly tilting forward, you initiate a daring kiss. Your lips sweetly move against Reiner’s, but there’s an unabashed fire upon your tongue as it darts into his mouth. You openly moan against his lips, and the enticing sound of your voice gets him harder. Reiner digs his fingers into your waist, eyes screwed shut. Groans tumble deep from his throat in the form of lowly ‘oh’s, and the bristly facial hair on his jaw prickles your skin. 

Reiner only now begins to register how your breasts squish against him, nipples rigid from under your nightgown and brushing at his chest. The warm press of your cunt rests atop his growing hard-on. He’d try to maintain the grain of resolve he has left, but with his cock prodding at your underside, it’s evident that he’s too far gone. You can feel him twitching beneath the soft cotton of your thin panties.

“I— shit, want you so bad…” his words tremble. See what you’ve done! Now he’s all wired up. You can tell by the way he holds your sides with an edgy grip. He pulls you in tighter, wants you immeasurably closer. Reiner can feel your heartbeat vigorously pumping in tandem with his. 

“Then fuck me.” you spur him on, dipping your head to connect with him once more. Tensions inflame between you as the kiss builds. Reiner tries to still the fleeting jerk of his hips, using everything in his power to resist your sugary lips and break away. He opens his mouth to respond, only to make a hesitant pause. Whatever he’s about to say, you know he doesn’t fucking mean it. The way his boner’s nudging at the plush of your ass says otherwise. 

“Can’t, baby.” He finalizes. You huff, grabbing his sleeves and tugging at the cloth. “You don’t want to?” Your lips look plump and sore, prettily bruised from obscene kisses.

“I never said that…” He lowly whines against your lips, dropping his head to rest along the junction of your neck. Of course he wants to. He’d much rather make you cum like it’s all he’s good for instead of wasting another moment at this damned desk. 

He then recalls the countless times he’s supplied your every desire without question. It brings him to realize that he truly has spoiled you, his sweet girl, nastily rotten. Though Reiner loves to provide for you in any way he can, he chooses to exercise discipline today. He thinks this’ll teach you some sort of lesson concerning patience and self-control. As if. Realistically, he’s merely punishing himself by desisting pleasure. 

You give him another fluid roll of your hips, but he stills you with an iron grip. His resolve’s firmer than it was mere minutes ago. “Hey.” Reiner shoots you a pleading look, but you know that it’s more of a warning. His soft dominance comes in the form of a heavy quiet, one which shows itself every so often. Particularly when you go out of your way to tip him over the brink. 

He’s made it clear that he won’t budge. You make an attempt to distance yourself, retracting your arms from around his neck to cross them over your chest, boobs pushing up with the motion. He pulls you back into his chest, to which you respond with a vexed ‘hmph’, subtly scrunching your face. Just how much could you possibly turn him on in one sitting alone? You’ll be the end of him, he’s sure of it.

Reiner softens his expression, rubbing at your sides. “Hey— look at me.” reluctantly, your eyes meet his. He just can’t seem to tug away from your heavy-lidded gaze. “Tell you what, darlin’,” he announces, offering you a compromise. “Once I finish this up, I’m yours for the rest of the night. M’kay?” 

You don’t like the terms of his little deal. It’s selfish, and you know it is, but you want him now. 

“Hm.” With a hum, you tap your fingers along his shoulder, barely agreeing. “No harm in waiting, yeah?” 

To that, you exaggeratedly sigh. ‘You’ll be fine, you big baby.’ Reiner thinks. 

You eventually release him, pressing a kiss to his scruffy jaw. He’s quick to return it, skimming his lips across yours in a chaste peck. He can feel your sensual grin spread against his mouth before you break away, like you’ve got a naughty little plan that he's yet to know about.

You descend off his lap, peering at his obvious boner with a silent giggle. Is he even sure he’d be able to wait a moment longer before sleeping with you? ‘Cause it looks like his pants have become much too tight. You’ve truly made a mess out of him.

Before stepping back to the room you appeared from, you send him a look with those alluring eyes of yours. There’s a glint of mischief; something tantalizing that lies within your irises.

“Don’t worry, Rei.” You call out to him in your pretty, tempting voice. With lithe fingers, you lift the ends of your short sleeping dress to reveal the tiny panties that lie beneath, giving him just a snippet of what he’d be missing. 

Reiner’s glance catches onto the lips of your pussy, hidden behind cloth. He bets it’s fucking soaked. Just as he thought, there’s a puddle of slick wetting the cotton material. His need for you begins to show itself all over again. You can see it in the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

All you do is smile at his reaction. “I’ll just help myself.” 

It's been a good chunk of time, about fifteen minutes since you disappeared into your room. You most certainly meant what you said about ‘helping yourself’…

“Oh—!” Moans spill into the corridor. And fuck, is it loud. You didn’t close the door to your room, and for good reason. You want him to catch wind of every little thing you’re doing without him. 

Reiner tries to keep his focus aimed at the computer screen, but he just can’t. Especially not under such conditions. He’s already sporting a raging hard-on, which he meekly brings a hand down to rub out every now and again. That isn’t even the biggest problem— there’s you, located a few doors down, intentionally making as much noise as you can. 

Reiner prods his tongue at his inner cheek. He knows exactly what’s going on. If you can’t have his attention, then that stupid fucking project of his wouldn’t be getting it either. 

“Mm, fuck!” Another cry of ecstasy reaches his ears, and his blush-tinged cheeks continue to burn even further. The harsh squelch emitting from the room tells him all he wants to know; you're plunging your fingers into your wet little pussy as deep as you can get it to go, but it’ll never be able to stretch you out as well as his thick digits. 

‘That fucking wet, huh?’  Reiner muses. His desire to be there with you is stronger than his will to breathe. The throb of his cock feels like it’s pounding heavier than the beat of his very own heart.

Funnily enough, he thought that you’d hardly be able to carry on without him there; now you’re the one enjoying yourself while he suffers in horny solitude. In all honesty, Reiner’s just barely holding out, and his resolve has thinned down to the mere size of a thread. He hadn’t considered the fact that you’re his weakness. 

Nine times out of ten, Reiner’s a man of his word. He sticks to what he says and hardly ever diverts from it. But at this moment, you’re giving him no choice. The only options you’ve proposed are for him to comply, or endure torture. It truly is complete and utter torture, to hear you getting yourself off when he could’ve been the one stripping you down and making you scream. 

 He wants to give himself a slap in the face for denying you— if not for him, you probably would’ve been cumming on his face right now, or bouncing on his cock in the way that he liked. Hell, he might’ve even gone about punishing you for teasing him on this very chair. 

Maybe he should’ve just come to the fucking room.

“Makin’ a scene, huh?” Reiner mumbles, palming his clothed dick. “Well, it worked.”

Your voice continues to ring aloud in the atmosphere. He’s physically incapable of ignoring the problem that lies beneath his pants. To be specific, the problem that you created, and he’s sure you’ll be eager to help him fix it. 

Reiner peers at the time before pushing his laptop closed and neglecting his assignment. It’s 12:49 AM when he finally decides to give in to you. He rises from his seat to follow the luring string of moans. 

He’s near. You can hear it, feel it. Every dull footstep means he’s closing in, aching to fuck you. Reiner’s giving up early on, and it’s much quicker than you thought he would. But you certainly don’t mind. You swipe your clit and tremble with anticipation, awaiting his presence.

You lie on your back, splayed across cream white bamboo sheets of the king-sized bed that you and him share. You wait not-so-patiently for him to enter and be met with the sight of your manicured fingers toying around inside your pussy.

It didn’t take long for you to get what you wanted. Reiner comes strolling in, leaning his bulky frame against the doorway. His chest heaves slowly. There’s yearning behind every deep breath he takes. He’s hot and bothered; it shows with the blooming pink tint of arousal that’s spread across his cheekbones and nose bridge. 

You’re all on display, from the roundness of your breasts beneath your skimpy nightgown as your chest rises and falls, to the clenching wetness of your cunt, panties pulled aside for access. There’s not a thing left to his dirty imagination.

Your eyes trail down to meet the suggestive bulge that strains against his baggy gray sweats. It’s definitely grown since before. Reiner looks borderline feral, ready to pounce and eat you alive. But he plainly stands, drinking in the view of your sightly body with glowering eyes. You wonder when he’ll finally jump in for a taste.

“Aw,” You breathily coo at him, sitting up on your elbows. He watches your tits sway with the motion. “You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” your light and mocking tone makes his dick twitch. 

“Looks like you’re havin’ fun…” Reiner mutters. It’s almost cute, how wound up he is. “Would be better if you joined in.” you suggest. “Are you gonna help me out while you’re here? Or did you only come to watch?” Still running your mouth, huh... You really do know how to push him to the edge. 

“C’mere.” Reiner beckons you towards him with the gesturing movement of his finger. His voice is low and domineering, it makes you want to listen. So you do, lifting yourself off the bed and doing just as he wishes. 

It seems that Reiner’s forgotten of all his good-boy behavior, and his sense of responsibility’s flown out the window. He’s quick to smash his mouth to yours, resuming the fervid kiss from before. He cradles the back of your head and pushes you deeper into the warmth of his lips. Bringing his unoccupied arm to loop around your waist, he tugs you in. 

You melt into his large and imposing frame, grabbing at his shirt within your fisted hands. “Reiner,” you separate from his enthusiasm, needing a gulp of air. Thin slivers of spit connect him to your sheen lips. 

“Heard you tryin’ to fuck yourself while I was gone,” Reiner whispers, hands snaking down to your butt. He shamelessly grabs your doughy ass in his rough hands, kneading the fatty flesh before giving it a nice, hard spank. You moan upon contact. He’s entirely sure you throbbed over that. 

“It wasn't enough, was it baby?” He shakes his head and you mindlessly mimic him, doing the same. “I’m here now. ‘Lemme satisfy you,” he plants a brief kiss at the surface of your neck before laying you down upon the wooly surface of the floor’s rug, kneeling to slot himself between your legs.

He brings his hand to your face, thumb resting at your plush bottom lip. You instantly know what to do, encasing his fingers into your mouth. “Bein’ such a good girl,” he praises, pushing down on your tongue with the pads of his fingers. You lick at his digits with a soft moan, lapping them in saliva as you grip onto his wrist. 

His middle and forefinger leaves your mouth with a wet pop. Reiner’s hands find their place at your sides, caressing the curvature of your hips. He hooks his pointer finger into your panties, pulling them further aside; just before he determines that you won't be needing them. And with that, Reiner’s abruptly tearing them off, ripping the cloth with the ease of one effortless tug. The fabric feathers apart against your skin. 

You can’t help but laugh in total shock, the ruined cloth tickling your hips. “Reiner!” All he does is a shrug, slipping the remains of your panties out from under your ass and tossing them elsewhere. “They were gettin’ in the way.” he clarifies. The pads of his fingers can now properly trace your slick pussy lips, and he drags his touch just above your engorged clit. 

You mewl when he strokes the nub in tight circles, jerking underneath his touch. Reiner can tell that you’re especially sensitive. With raised brows, he asks, “You already came?” He's given your immediate nod in reply. Reiner brings a hand to his heart, feigning offense. “Without me, baby?”

“Why’re you surprised? Told you I’d handle myself,” you say all matter-of-factly, gazing up at him from where you lay. He dryly chuckles, almost taken aback. “And I told you that I would be here soon, didn’t I?” he queries. You suppress a shudder whenever he makes contact with your over-stimmed bud. 

Patience is a virtue that you haven't yet learned. Reiner would normally take it slow and savor your taste, but all he has in mind is to teach you a valuable lesson– when he tells you to wait for him, you wait. 

Or, you just can deal with the outcome of defying him. That seems all the more fitting for a minx like you.

“Guess that means you’re gonna have to come again,” He decides, “Give me another.” To that, you whine. “But Rei! I already stretched myself out for you!” 

“With your fingers?” you nod when he asks you. “Hm. Not enough.” aiming to convince him otherwise, you spread your legs wider apart and reveal your gaping hole to his sharp stare. 

You drip with glassy cum, and he wants nothing more than to dive in face first, completely ravage all of your beautiful being, and eat away at that attitude of yours until you forget your own fucking name. Somehow, he finds a way to ground himself and stay on course. You can see it's a struggle for him to do so. He’d already be whipping his dick out if he wasn't trying to discipline you. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re gonna take what I give you. Right, baby?” he hums in question, rolling his lengthy sleeves up to his elbows. Your eyes trail along the expanse of his thick forearms. Taking your nod as a green light, Reiner delves three large fingers into you and sets a dangerous pace. His starting thrusts are fast and fluid. “Fuck, Reiner!” you cry out, clawing at his wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” He tuts, bringing his hand up to your face to playfully squeeze your cheeks. Your lips jut out cutely, and he grins. “I ain't stopping until you come.” He makes himself clear. “Understand?” 

“Mhm– u-understood.” you shakily comply, voice muffled. He releases your face, momentarily dipping low to peck your lips. “Good. That’s good.” He continues plunging into your core, every thrust bringing about a lewd squelch. “So sorry I held out on you, baby…” Reiner mumbles. “M’gonna make it up to you, okay?” The way he’s stroking your insides is the best apology you could think of. 

Reiner knows just how to work your body, almost too well. With swift motions, he skillfully curls his fingers up, nudging into an area that makes you writhe. “Found it,” he unconsciously whispers. 

After locating your sweet spot, he doesn’t relent. His flicking wrist allows him to push in faster, and the repetitive prodding of his thick digits gets you shaking. Your breath comes out in disarrayed puffs as you clamp down on his digits, hard, to the point where he can hardly move. It’s like a plea for him to remain inside. 

“— So fuckin’ tight…” he curses, teeth grit. “Just relax, baby.” Reiner calms you with his low tone, despite being knuckle-deep as your pussy draws him in. He struggles against your tight pink walls to pull out. Your stretched hole pulses around an empty nothingness where his fingers once were. You’re throbbing so much for him; the sight could almost make him cum in his pants. 

Reiner drags his touch down your gaping slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it over your puffy bud. He takes pleasure in the way your eyes roll back. You jerk underneath the pressure he applies, legs closing in and trapping his hand between them. 

“Keep ‘em open.” He exerts the slightest bit of strength to pry you apart by the thighs, proceeding with his attack on your clit. He notices the way you convulse, like you’re bound to crumble apart at any given moment. “R-Reiner,” you brokenly wail. “M’gonna—!” You aren’t in the right mind to speak. Just as he said earlier on, all you can do is take what he gives you.

“I know, baby.” He rubs you out with drenched fingers, “Want you to make a fuckin’ mess for me. C’mon.” and with that, plus a final of quick strokes at your bundle of nerves, Reiner prompts your disorienting climax. Your long nails dig into the flesh of his forearm, vision spotted white. Your orgasm’s powerful and he rides you through every lasting second of it. 

“That’s it… you did so good, baby.” he mutters, pouring sweet nothing into your ear like you can even register what he’s saying. You don’t even notice the drool slipping past the corner of your own lips, or the tears pricking your eyes. All with the work of his calloused fingers, he’s thoroughly ruined you. Thing is, he isn’t even halfway done.

Reiner leans down and scatters the lightest of butterfly kisses across your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; anywhere he can reach. He calls out to you by your name, trying to reel you back into consciousness with a pinch on your side. You squirm, and he airily chuckles. “There she is.”

You regain yourself, maneuvering up to rest on your knees. “Rei,” you sit before Reiner, mirroring him. Your delicate touch reaches for his crotch. His cock jumps when you grip him through his sweats. You speak soft and hushedly, the form of a weary whisper, “I want all of you.” 

Despite being completely spent, you swear that you’re ready for more. Reiner doubts that you are. But you’ve begged him for so long, he might as well deliver.

“I was gonna get to that,” he habitually tilts his head to the left, grabbing onto the hem of his sweatshirt. “but you just can’t wait, can you?” The olive-green top is pulled off, thrown into an obscure corner of the room. Right after, he begins to make quick work of his pants until they’re strewn away, dirtying the floor with his small heap of clothes.

Reiner grabs at the band of his briefs, about to rid himself of the final obstacle— until your hand skims over his. “Let me,” you say, breathless. With a brisk nod, he allows you. It’s intimate, how you strip him, with your hand resting at his shoulder while the other tugs down his waistband, eyes locking onto him throughout it all. Reiner lifts his hips, giving you access to peel away the underwear. You slide it past his thick, firm thighs until he’s kicking them off his ankles.

He feels your eyes trained on him, burning into his warm ivory skin. You run your gaze across the broad expanse of his athletic body, scrutinizing the subtle flexure of his muscles, from his pecs to his toned stomach. Aiming your stare downwards leads you straight to the obscene sight of his girthy dick, hanging between his legs and seizing all your attention. It lewdly bobs under its own weight, reddened tip gleaming with a sheen coat of precum. His balls hang beneath, heavy and throbbing. 

“So big,” you haphazardly mumble. His face goes flush when you reach forward, encircling your dainty hand around the shaft and watching him twitch in your hold. You can’t even wrap it all the way around. “Shit,” Reiner swears. You giggle over the way his hips jolt. 

Considering how eager you’ve been, Reiner hadn’t been expecting you to bring your head down to level, enveloping his pinkish tip into your pliant mouth. He never would’ve thought that you’d have time to swallow his dick. Though, he can’t complain, not with how well you suckle on his cockhead and stroke the rest, smearing him in your spit. 

With a hand resting at the back of your head, Reiner begins to propel his hips forward, slowly bucking into your mouth. He loves how your lips stretch around the width of his cock, adoring the way you elicit gags when being pushed down little by little until you reach his base. Your tongue swipes along a protruding vein, wracking a shudder through him.

It’s when you moan around his shaft and look up at him with those glimmering eyes that he knows he’ll end up spouting cum all over your tongue if this goes on. Reiner can’t take much more of this. He needs you to encompass him, wrap around him, suck him in… he has to feel you. At least before he loses his mind over the wait.

He guides you off, releasing himself from the wet suction of your lips. “I have to fuck you,” Reiner heaves desperately, “Now.” He flips up the satiny material of your sleeping gown and hastily tosses it over your head, making sure to smooth down your hair after. Once again, he expertly maneuvers you onto your back. 

Your hands lie beside your head, the shaggy carpet brushing softly against your shoulder blades. Reiner scoots in close, lifting your legs up and hitching them up on his wide shoulders. He rubs along your calves before directing his touch downwards to meet your core. 

With a gentle stroke down your slit and light brushes against your folds, he’s thumbing you open. You’re slick and clenching, just for him. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he sounds awestruck, like he wasn’t just stuffing you with his middle, ring and pointer only minutes ago. 

Reiner takes hold of his cock, circling around the tip with a sigh. He generously pumps himself before lining up with you, tapping at your clit just to mess with you a little. That brings about the restless wiggle of your hips. 

“Ugh, Reiner!” you whine. He always likes to play the tease, even when the situation doesn’t permit him to. With your legs still placed up where he put them, you sway and kick your feet around, movement rapid above his head. “Put it in already—!”

“I will.” Reiner smacks his teeth. He’d usually ask nicely for you to behave. This time, he’ll make you. He holds you still, done easily with a simple grip on your ankle. It’s painless, but firm enough to get you to straighten up. “So fuckin’ needy.”

Reiner grabs onto your legs and pushes them back, until your painted toes dangle above your own head. “It’ll go deeper this way.” Reiner assures. He keeps you there, palms pressing into the bottom of your thighs to pin you against yourself. “You can take it like this, yeah? All folded up for me?” 

“I can take it, Rei. I promise,” is your eager response. He flashes a seductive smile. “Oh, darlin’… I know you can.”  Reiner hovers over you, positioning himself in a way that makes his cockhead bump into your pearly nub. He squats low and leans forward, to the point where he’s resting his weight onto you. It’s suffocating in the best way imaginable. You savor every moment of his body compressing yours.

At long last, Reiner gives what you’ve begged him for since midnight. With one smooth thrust forward, he’s plunged himself into your weeping pussy. It forces the air out of your lungs. “Oh— fuck,” you breathe out so lightly, Reiner can hardly hear it. He pushes his cock in further, groaning as he does so. You accommodate him and adapt to the gradual stretch.

Your tight cunt envelops him, clenching around every inch that he has to offer. You gaze up at Reiner with the prettiest set of lust-blown eyes. He pulls back before pressing forward, until his weighty balls are nestled at the hilt. He peers down to where you connect, attentively watching how you swallow him in. 

“It’s deep, baby?” Reiner damn well knows that he’s pushing at your cervix and resting in your guts. He just wants to get a kick out of your answer. “So deep.” You gasp. Shiny tears are brimming at your eyes again. He follows a pattern of drawing out, only partially, just to slam back in. Your body lurches with every knock of his sturdy hips. 

Before long, Reiner’s created a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His pelvis claps into yours and grinds at your clit, all as he delves his girth into the wet cavern of your sopping pussy. You cry out for him every single time. “R-Rei!” you stammer when he fucks into you with such zeal. He’s only just begun, and you’re already on the verge of sobbing. “Harder,” You plead. 

And so, he listens. Reiner swiftly rocks into your warmth, flooding with arousal. His motions come on heavier as he puts his weight behind his rapid thrusts. “You want it all the goddamn time,” he grunts, jaw clenched. “Am I that good, baby? Can't get enough of me?”

“S— so good to me!” you mewl, bottom lip trapped under your teeth. You grab for him in hopes of reaching whatever you can, until your hands meet his tensed biceps. The ends of your nails skim his muscles, and he lets out a low hiss. 

An especially rough thrust tugs a cry out of you. “Reiner, please!” You find yourself begging, unsure of what. All you know is that it’s too much for you to handle. His unrelenting pace has you struggling for the slightest granule of air you can muster to breathe in. 

You scramble to push at Reiner’s abdomen, a measly attempt at slowing him down. He doesn’t give at all— you're only inducing him to go faster. “Uh-uh, baby. None of that,” deep-reaching thrusts punctuating his every word, “Thought you promised that y’could take me… Was that a lie?” he snarks. 

“No, I— fuck!” it’s brutal, the way his dick slides in and nudges against your womb. You writhe underneath him, but the weight of his bulky body holds you down. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ run from me. You’ve been begging for it all night,” Reiner warningly seethes. “So take it.”

He fucks you with reckless abandon, working his way in and out of your slippery pussy. By the end of this, he wants you molded into the very shape of him, to have his fat cock leave an imprint on your walls. There’s a mess of dripping slick that soils your inner thighs and runs down his slapping balls.

Reiner takes just a second or two to simply relish in the moment, basking in how tight you’re squeezing him. He takes a mental picture, storing the detailed intimacy of this scenario into a back pocket of his mind. Reiner studies the way you prettily lie beneath him, lips agape. Your tits bounce in tandem with his every move. 

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” he lets out a soft groan. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this.” Reiner’s face is mere inches apart from yours, and the short proximity allows you to appreciate his chiseled features. Strong jaw, well-defined nose, and neat stubble; not to mention the most striking set of golden eyes. Effortlessly charming. He could make your panties drop if they hadn’t been torn off already.

Your arms wire around his neck, holding on for dear life. “Reiner, I—” he rams into you, and you almost choke on his name. The words clog in your throat as you manage out a drowsy request.  “Want more of you! Please,” 

More, you say? Like you could remotely handle anything greater than what he’s giving you now? That’s fine. He'll simply make sure to fulfill your needs until your cup overflows. 

He dips low until the defined arch of his nose is brushing past yours, fucking you rough on the fluffy carpet with a higher vigor. It’s like he’s finally snapped. “Fuckin’ greedy,” Reiner snarls against your ear, his stubble grazing your cheek, “Wanted it so bad that y’couldnt wait, huh? Got me fucking you on the ground like a goddamn animal.”

Reiner’s cutting words make you pulse. He’s never done you this hard before. There’s a noticeable change in the way he’s handling you. He’d usually be unhurried and careful, paired with the mutter of encouraging words against the shell of your ear. In all honesty, you like this for a change. After this round’s over, you’ll make an effort to piss him off more often.

“Reinerrr,” You whimper aloud, drawing it out through a stretched moan. His balls jump over your droned call of his name. If you keep it up, he might just wind up coming inside without a second thought.

You clamp down on his vein-littered cock with increased urgency. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Reiner questions, quickening his tempo. He wants you to unravel. “Mm-hm!” you pant. Your impending climax is coming along again. You can feel it, that tense buildup that lies deep in your trembling pelvis. Reiner urges your release. “Let go for me, baby.”

He bites down on your shoulder when you drag your nails down his firm back. “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” he rambles dirty lines onto your sweat-coated skin, reaching down between you to give your puffed clit a brisk swipe or two.

That's enough to get you to undo. You’re rapidly fluttering around him, head tossed back. He's there to hold onto you, searing his touch into your skin as you fall completely apart in his safe grasp. You tremor for him, orgasmic waves coursing up your spine. Reiner carries on with his unruly thrusts, meeting you in a brash kiss.

You gasp against his mouth, breathing him in. Reiner surrounds you from every possible angle; around you, pecking your lips and rubbing your waist… more especially inside you, whisking at your spent walls with his thick cock. It’s all so much. “Fuck, I can’t, Rei… no more,” you shake beneath his heavyset figure.

“Just hold on for me, baby,” he pleads in a lowly whimper. The over-stim has your feet jerking above your head. “Lemme use your pussy for a little longer. Is that alright? Hm?” his consistent pounding makes you go fucking brain-dead. That’s probably why you don’t catch a single word of his. The only perceivable sound is the dense clap of his skin as it collides with yours.

Reiner’s thin brows draw together, his mouth drops open, and the underside of his dick spasms. That’s how you know he’s soon to topple over the edge. “I’m so close,” he releases a guttural whine, pattern growing sloppier. There’s a burning ache in his thighs, but he doesn’t care to stop. He’ll chase that high until the both of you soak this carpet in cum. 

The tremble of your form underneath his, your breathy moans entering his ear, the dull scrape of your nails down his back; it’s all part of what urges his release. Reiner’s grip on your side is taut when he comes. “Fuuck,” he swears, moaning the loudest he has all night. 

You gladly welcome the loads of pearly cum that he drains into you. It warmly spills out, dripping past your labia and down to your asscheeks. Reiner’s drenched, too. It’s made a mess of his twitching shaft, pelvis, and sac. 

Reiner huffs, sitting up to rest on his knees. He’s yet to recover. “That was… damn.” His chest heaves. Intense, he means. That’s the word closest to accuracy that you could use to describe the burst of passion between you and him. Reiner comes back down to earth, unthinkingly caressing your thighs. He loosens his hold on your midriff, managing to catch his breath. 

You look up at him with admiration swirling in your dilated eyes. “You good, baby?” Reiner directs his attention your way, and you acknowledge him with a hum. “I didn’t go too hard, did I?” Him and his slew of questions. You don’t mind it, since he means well. His thoughtful nature warms your heart.

“It was perfect, I came twice and everything. Now c’mere!” As always, these kinds of sessions end with you outstretching your hands, gesturing him closer so that he can cradle you in his arms. Gently, Reiner lowers down until he rests atop your bare figure, leaning his weight onto you with the utmost caution.

“I’ll clean you up after this, honey.” he mumbles, cheek pressed against your boobs. “I know you will,” you expect him to. He’s made taking care of you a habit. 

You stare into the distance and feel the cool blow of the ceiling fan, carding a hand through the short tresses of his blonde hair. His forehead’s exposed and sheen with sweat. You inhale his scent (now merged with the smell of sex), and rub your palms over his thickset muscles, just appreciating his being. Silence engulfs you both.

Moments later, you break the quiet atmosphere with a faint laugh. Reiner perks his head up. “What is it?” 

“You were rougher than normal,” you observe. He lifts a brow. “And that’s funny? Thought you liked it.” 

“I did!” you’re quick to reassure him. “I just didn’t know you had it in you, baby. That’s all,” you wrap your arms around his back, using your tender touch to soothe the red-lined scratches from earlier. “Well, you brought it out of me… brat.” the last part is said under his breath. You catch on anyway.

That brings about your incredulous gasp, like you don’t already know that yourself. “Me? A brat?” you light-heartedly challenge the truth of his words. “Oh, very much so. But I love you anyway.” Reiner scoots up to kiss you, his softened cock skimming your thigh. 

“Aren't you glad I interrupted you? You should be,” you claim. Although drowsy, he lets out a buoyant laugh, one that rumbles in his chest. He’d never hear the end of you reciting ‘I was right!’ if he were to confess, but he is grateful you distracted him. You were the one to initiate, but he came to realize that he needed it too. 

Reiner would say tonight helped him realize that you never fail to get what you want, but he already knew that. 

In truth, one thing was clarified for him— dick is the only effective form of correction that works on his pretty little vixen of a girlfriend.

TAGS ༉‧₊˚. @hellavile @indiecursor @nneedynymph @deemanaa @photosbyameil @venusflytrapstar @fkatwigsisthenextkatebush @ctrllovre @aiyaaayei @hoohoohope @minniecums @turdettethefirst ♡︎

[rosesofenvy]

How Far We’ve Come - Music Theory Analysis

[Disclaimer: I went to university for music as a violin primary and have the most confidence with classical strings. I passed my piano proficiency courses, but that is the extent of my piano knowledge. It has been a few years since I have done an in-depth composition analysis of any piece, let alone transcribing a piece by ear and then analyzing it. Music theory has never been my strong suit! Please excuse any mistakes in notation, and any inaccuracies in my transcription or analysis. I did my best and this was purely for fun *shaky thumbs up*]

----------------------

'How Far We’ve Come' by Harlan Guthrie is a duet between Grand Piano and Cello. This piece opens with solo piano, either in a pickup measure or in a single measure of 2/4 before transitioning to 4/4 time in measure 2. Throughout its entirety there are many moments of rubato which have been notated as ritardando and a subsequent a tempo. To most accurately follow the phrasing, listening to the recording is highly recommended.

This piece begins in the key of F#M or the enharmonic spelling of GbM. Although unpleasant to look at with either 6 sharps or 6 flats, depending on which spelling is followed, this key is often used by composers to invoke emotions of a conquest story, evoking relief, triumph, victory, and clarity. As we know from our story in Malevolent so far, this meaning is not lost on us. I have chosen to keep this piece as F#M since that is how I originally began transcribing it. I have also attached the GbM version at the end of the post, however all the analysis follows F#M spelling.

The lone piano begins on the third of our I chord with a hesitant, heavily rubato 8th note pickup into measure 1. The transition from measure to measure in this first phrase gains little confidence, especially with the transition from the pickup into m. 1 as this is the only instance in the piece where the set of 8th notes in the left hand do not lend itself into the next right hand pickup (four 8th notes instead of five). Each lead-in to the downbeat is stretched, pedal held throughout the measure to allow the sound to linger. Each press of the keys is deliberate, yet maintains a mezzo dynamic as the sound fades. m.2 is introduced with a vi chord, creating a hint of unease before resolving in m.3 to a IV(add7). We end our first phrase with a half cadence to a V chord, leading into a V7 as our next phrase begins with a B. 

As we enter our second phrase it is similar to our first with  m.5 beginning with a I chord, m.6 expands our vi chord compared to its first iteration, resulting in a more confident feel as we continue into m.7 with yet another expansion to our IV(add7). M.8 ends this phrase as we reach another half cadence V chord almost V7. 

Beginning m.9 the piece has a few possible paths of analysis, we arrive on a vi chord if we are remaining in F#M, which unlike our other initial starting phrases this throws us into a melancholic mood. There is a possibility of modulation to the relative minor (D#m), however I believe it remains in F#M and utilizes inversions of our chords and will continue with this assumption for the next phrase.

Remaining in F#M, m.10 could be a vi(4/2) inversion, or a I(6/4) inversion. Because Measure 11 moves to a ii chord, I believe it makes more harmonic sense for m.10 to be a vi(4/2) inversion as moving from a I(6/4) - ii is less common than a vi(6/4) to a ii. 

M.11 into m.12 is a fascinating progression. We have a V with the (g) in m.11, then we are descending to a Dnat, A#, E# progression. The Dnat is what has thrown me off the most, as it is a minor chord of sorts but doesn’t exist within our key of F#M, or relative D#m. The E# A# progression I believe is a I(4/2) chord, as it is leading us back into the next phrase. Even spelling enharmonically as a A#, Cx, E# chord it does not naturally occur within our existing key. After many hours of checking theory textbooks, writing out possible modulations, and playthroughs of the chords, I’m choosing to leave this as a V-I(4/2) progression and accepting my loss that I do not know what chord exists in the downbeat of m.12. However, I can say that resolving to something that is not a root tonic further creates this sense of melancholy.

Bringing us to our next phrase at m.13, similar to our previous phrase a vi chord but instead of resolving to an A# it resolves to the root D#. M.14 is identical to m.10 with the exception of the lower octave A#3 before resolving in m.15 to a ii chord until the fourth beat of the measure which leads us into measure 16 - resolving to a IV-V half cadence by the end of the measure. 

Reaching m.18 we are returning to our original phrase. This is where our cello enters for the duet, in which I have some observations about musicality first. As the piano is using a significant amount of pedal to sustain the sound, the cello utilizes a wide vibrato to create a warm sound. Notably, this doesn’t occur as significantly when entering with the lower notes. The cello is confident, encouraging the piano forward and maintaining a solid momentum even with the hesitance the piano has shown. 

M.18 we begin on a I chord, supported by the cello playing a low F# as the root. In the pause between phrases, it's as if you can feel the performers breathing together before they move to m.19, our vi(add7) chord. 

Measure 20 I have quite a bit to talk about. Stacked chord analysis is not my forte (pun intended). From what I could hear, there is a B1, F#2, B2, F#3 in the cello, while the piano continues with a IV(add7) chord. B1 is impossible to play on a cello with traditional tuning, in order to achieve this note they would have to tune their lowest string - their C string - down a half step. The chord B1/F#2/B2/F#3 is also impossible to play on a single instrument. If one cello tuned their C down to a B, then they could feasibly play the bottom chord, possibly the two B’s in octaves. It is possible for a cellist to play an F#/B/F# chord, however it would be uncomfortable and not result in a good tonality with it being a triple stop - but, the second cello could split the chord and play a different combination (F#2,B2 or B2,F#) with success. Other solutions to this could be having a double bass play the pedal B, as it would be within their ability on and remain in the correct octave, or having the piano cover the pedal B. This massive chord then resolves simply to a half cadence V chord in measure 21. 

Entering our last section, m.22, we return to a phrase similar to the beginning, with a confident I chord. With each measure we go to a more traditional chord progression to a V-IV-V in measures 23, 24, and 25 respectively. In an exciting turn of events, we land on a I chord in our final measure. The first PAC in the entire piece, and yet, it doesn’t sound as if the piece is finished. Throughout its entirety, all the phrases have been a form of inauthentic cadence. We end on a Perfect Authentic Cadence, a V-I, it should sound resolved. And yet, it continues on. The notes ring, and if left on repeat (as I have done for this analysis), it makes sense for it to continue. 

In conclusion, I believe this duet is in an general AABBAA format, with A being Major key tonality and B encompassing a minor key tonality. This piece is a conversation, it’s full of emotion and hesitance and is a fantastic representation of everything we’ve seen Arthur and John go through so far in the podcast. I can’t help but think of “I’ve come so far…and I have miles to go before I sleep” with this piece as a reflection of that. This composition is saying “Look, see how far we’ve come, what we’ve done to get here. How we’ve changed and grown.” All this to say, it’s an amazing story and an amazing composition. If you made it this far, I’m glad you came along in this musical journey with me and feel free to add anything I may have missed (or possibly mistaken). 

[izel-scribbles]

gonna start my malevolent relisten and wouldn’t you know it it’s actually so i can write noel’s backstory semi-accurately for The Fic

[nursedflowers]

❁ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 & 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐓

❀ event will start and end July 1 to July 31; 2024.

❀ if you would like to be a writer for this event, send an ask (with anon off) / comment and we’ll soon message you with a response! ANY FANDOM is welcome and we’re only accepting x reader.

❀ we would like as much as possible for the fic to be due on time as your day, but don’t stress about it!

❀ taglist will be out soon for people who want to be notified of a new fic.

❀ any empty days will be filled out at the end of the event.

❀ subjects such as pedoph!l!@, extreme gore, !ncest, sc@t, ddlg, r@pe, etc., etc. (up to common sense) are not allowed. NSFW IS ALLOWED, but minors please do NOT interact with those.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ‘𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒:

𝟏: 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝟐: 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝟑: 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭

𝟒: 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 - @fictional-gf ; itoshi sae (blue lock)

𝟓: 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭

𝟔: 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 - @muichiro-tokito-1710 ; muichiro tokito (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟕: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 - @kitkat-moon ; dabi (my hero academia)

𝟖: 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 - @mu1nfinityx ; muichiro tokito (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟗: 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐰��𝐭𝐞𝐫 - @nursedflowers ; tamaki amajiki (my hero academia)

𝟏𝟎: 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝟏𝟏: 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 - @chasani ; fortunato (the cask of amontillado)

𝟏𝟐: 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 - @mu1nfinityx ; inosuke hashibira (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟏𝟑: 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜

𝟏𝟒: 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐧

𝟏𝟓: 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 - @kitkat-moon ; sanemi shinazugawa (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟏𝟔: 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧/𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝟏𝟕: 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - @strawberrymixt ; kaito momota (danganronpa v3/killing harmony)

𝟏𝟖: 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - @nursedflowers ; toru oikawa (haikyuu!!) / hajime iwaizumi (haikyuu!!)

𝟏𝟗: 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

𝟐𝟎: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝-𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞/𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡

𝟐𝟏: 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 - @nursedflowers ; giyu tomioka (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟐𝟐: 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭

𝟐𝟑: 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞

𝟐𝟒: 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬 - @kitkat-moon ; obanai iguro (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟐𝟓: 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝟐𝟔: 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 - @shionancientsblog ; riddle roseheart (twisted wonderland)

𝟐𝟕: 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝟐𝟖: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 - @stressforu ; rin itoshi (blue lock)

𝟐𝟗: 𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 - @mu1nfinityx ; tanjiro kamado (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟑𝟎: 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 - @strawberrymixt ; mikan tsumiki (danganronpa 2/goodbye despair)

𝟑𝟏: 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 - @strawberrymixt ; shuichi saihara (danganronpa v3/killing harmony)

comment any questions ; REBLOGS are appreciated! summer divider by: soulari

[juniesfairies]

ITS THE ULTIMATE ANTHROPOLOGIST’S BIRTHDAY!!!! I want a cultural melting pot to celebrate I meannnnn