#this is so stupid i simply was possesed

[your-local-granny]

meet cute at the japanifornia in n out

(inspired by this post)

[nottsangel]

obsession — r.c.

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, vaginal sex, degradation and praise, edging, jealousy, mutual masturbation, established relationship, cursing, possessive and toxic behaviour

word count: 1.5k

summary: rafe shows his possesive and jealous side for the first time when he sees you flirting with JJ

a/n: a short fic to get back into writing!

nav. // m.list // taglist // kofi

Your body flinched at the sound of the front door slamming shut as your back faced your boyfriend, who you started dating only a few weeks ago. Anticipation raged through your body due to a mix of excitement, as well as fear for what is to come. The air was tense— the only sounds being Rafe’s footsteps slowly nearing you and you didn’t dare to move even an inch. Seconds felt like hours before he was close enough that you could hear him inhaling deep and slowly as his head moved closer to yours, feeling his hot breath on your neck.

“Such a naughty fucking girl, aren’t you?” he growled, his voice deep and raspy. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling embarrassed that his voice alone could turn you on like this. “Flirting with JJ in front of me, huh? You think I’m fucking stupid?” Without wasting any more time, he quickly grabbed your arm, making you squeal, and dragged you to the bedroom.

His strong hand was wrapped around your wrist almost imperceptibly tight as your wobbly legs struggled to keep up with the quick pace he was walking at. He violently pushed the bedroom door open, causing it to bounce back against the wall, then slammed it shut with force. His eyes looked from you to the bed with a nod of his head, signalling for you to get on it. You followed his instructions, climbing into the king-sized bed and gazing up at him obliviously with wide innocent eyes. “Such a pretty girl” Rafe hissed as he paced around the room, uncertain of how to deal with his emotions, “but fuck, you are so… so dumb” he rubbed his temples in frustration with the palm of his hands as he sighed loudly. You gulped while eyeing him— you had never experienced anything like this with Rafe before, as you were still in the idyllic honeymoon phase of your fresh relationship.

“Take your clothes off. All of it” he ordered with a harsh expression on his face and folded arms that accentuated his toned muscles. You raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity but you knew better than to question him, so you removed your dress before stripping off your underwear as well. His eyes darkened, scanning every inch of your body.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. You-“ he started before you interrupted him, wanting to explain your perspective on the situation, communicating as normal couples would— but you soon realised that you and Rafe were anything but a typical couple. “Rafe, I can ex-“ “God, j-just… shut up for a moment, alright?” he cut you off exasperatedly, gradually losing his patience with every word you spoke. He quickly collected himself by taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking at you again. “I do the talking here and you will simply listen, got that?” you nodded obediently, not wanting to irritate him any further.

“Spread your legs for me” he instructed with a stern expression on his face, not showing any emotion whatsoever. You slowly parted your legs while leaning on your elbows, giving him a view that made him painfully hard in an instant. No matter how many times he saw you naked, he was always in awe of your figure. His facial features softened as his mouth slightly opened, gaping at your naked body in awe. “Like what you see?” you asked him teasingly, your head cocking to the side as you moved your hand over your tits. Your words pulled him out of his trance instantly. He gulped as he tried to regain his composure again, but the evident boner in his pants told you enough, making you chuckle.

“Shut up and touch yourself for me, alright?” he ordered agitatedly, trying to regain his power. You nodded while maintaining intense eye contact as your hand travelled to your core excruciatingly slow, teasing not only him but also yourself. Your fingers gathered the wetness and then brought them to your mouth, sucking on them while you continued to gaze at your boyfriend innocently. He groaned weakly, fighting the urge to flip you over and pound into you right then and there. Your hand found its way back to your cunt, drawing slow circles on your clit. All the stress from the day vanished as your head fell back with your mouth agape, eyes fluttering shut while moaning Rafe’s name softly.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you forgot about your boyfriend standing before you, still eyeing you. When you slowly opened your eyes, the unexpected sight in front of you made your cunt clench around nothing as you grew increasingly wetter. Rafe had freed his erection from his pants and stroked it slowly while still staring at you intensely, biting his lip. 

“God, you’re fucking hot” Rafe groaned, keeping his gaze fixed on you as his hand picked up speed. The intense eye contact, the mutual masturbation, the sounds of the heavy rain outside, the smug fucking smile on your boyfriend’s face— all of it felt so sensual and passionate, both of you fully immersed in the moment.

“On your hands and knees. Now” he commanded after a while, pulling you out of your trance. You followed his instructions, your back facing him on the bed. You heard the sounds of clothes being removed as you waited impatiently. Footsteps neared you before he positioned himself behind you, his cock teasing your entrance.

Before you knew it, he pushed himself into you in one quick thrust, causing you to moan out loudly at the sudden feeling. Your face was pushed aggressively onto the mattress as Rafe quickly pounded into you at a relentless pace, having no difficulty finding your g-spot in an instant. You moaned but your voice was muffled, causing Rafe to grip your hair and push your head towards him, resting it on his shoulder. His blue eyes gazed intently into yours as he thrusted into you, wetness trickling down the inside of your thighs. It felt so intense— feeling so close to him as the moonlight seeping through the blinds illuminated your boyfriend’s beautiful features.

“Scream my name. Let everyone know who you belong to” he growled while not breaking eye contact. “F-fuck Rafe, feels so good” you cursed, your eyes slowly fluttering shut. Rafe chuckled cockily before peppering your neck in sloppy kisses. “I know baby, I know”

His hand moved to your core, rubbing fast circles on your clit. The way his cock hit perfectly inside you, his fingers tracing circles on your swollen clit so skilfully— your vision began to blur as you got closer to your release. You were ready to let go when Rafe abruptly stopped all his movements and pulled out— the sudden feeling of emptiness making your eyes shoot open in an instant.

“W-what are you doing? I was so close!” you whined, the feeling of your release slowly ebbing away. His hand sneaked around your throat, applying slight pressure as he smirked down at you. “My dumb bunny. You really thought I would let you cum just like that? You think you deserve that?”

“I-“ before you could say anything else, he pushed you onto your back and eyed you up and down while licking his lips, his gaze intense. He lowered himself to kiss you, pinning his arms beside your head before whispering in your ear, “I will kill any man that ever dares to come that close to you again, alright?” you nodded, not being able to fully process his words due to the desperation you’re feeling as he gave you a quick kiss on your cheek. “Now open your pretty legs for me”

You did as he asked and he pushed himself back into you without any warning, causing you to moan out loudly. He wasted little time in getting to a fast tempo that made you see stars. It felt so perfect, the sensation overwhelming you as you gripped his biceps firmly, your nails digging into his skin. You wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him an angle to go even deeper. He hit all the right spots within you, causing you to near your release once again.

“You want to cum, hm?” he asked, sensing that you were close. “Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who can make you feel this good” he groaned as he continued pounding into you. “Fuck! Y-you, Rafe! Only you!” he chuckled as his hand travelled to your clit again, applying slight pressure while rubbing fast circles. “Good girl”

A few more thrusts and your orgasm washed over you, feeling even more intense than usual. You clenched around him as you moaned out loudly, your body shaking under him.

After a few moments, you came down from your high, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Your eyes slowly opened at the sound of his voice, “How many drinks did you get from JJ tonight, hm?” he asked, his hand affectionately brushing some of your hair from your face as he stared at you from above. You tilted your head in confusion, astounded by the sudden question as you breathed heavily, still recovering from your orgasm. “Uhm… four” “I see” he said with his palm resting on your cheek as his thumb drew slow circles on your skin. “Three more orgasms to go then, pretty girl”

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated !!

nav. // m.list // please support by buying me a coffee!

tags (join here): @vxntxque @goingbackt0505 @heroftbiggestfan @locker42 @vnusology @lucyvg02 @yesv01 @oncasette @drxwstxrkxy @softsatnin @penny4yourthoughts @skyesthebomb @harlowsgirl @maybanksstar @poppet05 @katiemay2 @jjsunrolledblunt @demiioxox @maybankslover @iruzias @iluvweasleys @ae1szn @pedrosprincess @sweetestdesire @loki-lovebot @kliness @liltimmytimtim @cavillslvt @miapanticc @rafecameronsprincess @rafesdirtyslut @peterficrecs @annaaaa14237 @harryspunchingbag @iameatingmyhair @rensolosprincess @apcllpsie @surprisinglysarah @sw34terw34ther @fredweasleyslut @yell0wclouds @crybabytecrs @btoliana @f4ll-for-you @pqndxra @httpsannoyinglolx @lcvelylies @marzipaanz @imjustcaitlin @outerbankspov @vqztsw @hagwshsjw @valel07 @gigito092507 @ry1ssa @dandyfordaffodils @drewfgs @thegirlnextdoorssister @aestheticgrungecrybaby @wh0r3-for-klaus @angzls @sarnghoe @ihearttits @immaslt4uuuu @ihrtrafeandethan @loverofdrewstarkey @darleneslane @Smutslut @julesmendoza890 @lorealainnehaille

[honeytonedhottie]

a post on persistence⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💝

im super happy and excited to announce that this post is a collab with the AMAZINGG @pinkpigtailsprincess. we wanted to collab on this post and talk about PERSISTENCE in manifesting and how crucial it is when ur manifesting things.

HOW TO PERSIST ; persisting simply means reminding urself that u already have whatever it is that u want. when u persist, you decide what it is that u want and you STICK to it.

the oxford definition of persistence simply means to continue in an opinion or course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition.

your 3d literally has no choice but to catch up and reflect the new thoughts that ur thinking in ur 4d so just KEEP GOING. if ur gonna whine or complain every step of the way and think thoughts like "persisting is hard" or "theres lots of resistance/difficulty with manifesting" then thats what ur going to experience.

manifesting is easy, effortless, and instant. when u catch urself thinking thoughts that perpetuate the old story, remind urself that no matter what, whatever u persist in will harden into reality simply because it HAS to. stop getting in your own way!!

LIMITLESS > IMAGINATION ;

limitless definition; possesing power of an immeasurable rate a perfect way to describe your power your literally the god of your reality and you know you might think thats silly or “delusional” its so true though like ever since birth people are conditioned to believe that being negative is the more “logical” and “realistic” way to think than positive which is such a stupid revelation because all throughout life you meant to believe that you have to bring yourself down to earth about achieving something and that you’ll never have “” but that makes no sense seeing all of the extraordinary achievements that humans have done like

build rockets and do rocket science

walk on the moon

build the great wall of china

and so many others including the human body its self your cells in your body healing and protecting wounds and your organs being able to stay in the designated spot no matter what and you think “logic” actually matters?

everything in the human mind is projected i mean everything you use on a daily basis started off in the mind it all stems from imagination

DECISIONS ⭐️ ;

deciding is the final decision and the final outcome no matter what no questions asked like if you went too a sushi restaurant and ordered and decided that you want a shrimp tempura roll you will have the shrimp tempura roll no matter what concepts “if the concept of something can exist then that can be achieved no matter what”

literally something i think about alot and a direct quote from yours truly like most people do think that you can have something because its quote “unrealistic” or it “doesn’t exist” but if that were really the case than why is the concept of it allowed to prosper like if those things really didn’t exist then the concept of billionaires or superpowers and superheroes wouldn’t exist or even time travel everything single one of those things are a product of imagination!!!

YOUR THE ONLY POWER ;

alot of the times on loablr you see people say “you’re the only power” and “you don’t even need that method just imagination and that honestly just so real because if you really think about all of these methods ie: 48 hour challenge, 10k affirmations method etc.

and the void state those things also stemmed from that person’s imagination when you use those methods or use subliminals all your doing is giving it a smidge of your power the method is only powerful because your giving it that power in conclusion you and your imagination are the only things that matter !!

[lit3rallyll0yd]

hello!! i checked to see if you're taking requests and couldn't see anything otherwise but if you aren't then pretend i never sent this ;)

but, what would it be like being partnered with chuuya and dazai when they were teens? having grown up in the mafia and instantly clicking, does reader like either of them etc etc!

if this isn't your cup of tea - no fuss at all! thank you xx

teen reader partnered up wit 15!skk

warnings: out of character? mention of tourture/abuse. platonic ssk x reader. cursing from chuuya. they may sound/act possesive? but not in a weird, romantic way.

get ready to be in the middle of their arguing. you could just be chilling alone, maybe enjoying a book your reading or getting ready for your next misson and then suddenly these two enter and start going off, now infront of you.

curses fly out of chuuyas mouth as dazai keeps mentioning "dog" to refer to the gravity manipulator.

"last i checked, y/n was there when you lost my bet! you would be my dog and act like one only for me!! right y/n, you were there!!" dazai would scream at you and you would give him a blank stare.

"piss off with that, don't get y/n into your bullcrap!! besides, they wouldn't give two craps about your stupid bet!! stop trying to get them all warmed up to you to put me down! y/n, put this bastard to sleep and shut him up before i kill him myself!"

each of them would ask who's side your on, but in reality you couldn't give two shits. you also usually get them to stop by simply using your ability...which dazai could esaily nullify, however he just lets you seperate them.

chuuya growls at use when you use your ability on him, but just crosses his arms and ignores the two of you.

mori thought after hiring you, and forcing you to join dazai and chuuya on their missions would hopefully help them, and stop them from shouting and arguing...however you don't and they just dont shut up.

they also really try keep you away from one another. you could be hangjng out with dazai, and then chuuya all of a sudden drags you away; dazai growing upset and whines.

"chuuuyaaa~ don't take them away from me, we we're going to go for a walk! here i thought you would be a good dog for your master today!"

"shut the hell up, shitty bastard! you've forgotten about our mission tomorrow? mori wants us to get ready for it. i dont care about your walk- go for one by yourself!"

you swear, you'll go insane if your with them for another minute.

although with every moment your with them you'd want to slap the living hell out of them...you would protect them to the best of your ability to get them out of harms way. they almost, mostly dazai, go through dangerous ways to get the job done...much to your hatement.

however dazai will thank you in the most cheesy way; "look at that chuuya- they care for me more then you ever will!"

*cuts to you slapping him upside the head*

"DAZAI!! shut your mouth before i bury you under ground!!" cuuuys would shout at him after kicking a enemy in the head and to the ground.

"not a horrible way to go actually- being by alive- but by your hands? ew, i'll pass."

takes everything in chuuyas power to foucus on the battle beside dazai.

they won't admit it, but the way dazai finds chuuyas corruption interesting, he finds your amazing as well but his ego would never let him say it out loud. he would give a proud smile when he watches you interogate someone by the tourture of your ability. meanwhile chuuya left; not being able to watch you hit the hell out of the soul. he also finds your ability cool, but sometimes you can be terrifying with it. no one wonder mori hired you!?

chuuya doesnt seem to get as upset with you then he does with dazai. him and dazai grew much closer togethet before you joined the mafia- so you already knew they would be closer...but he's grown used to you. that doesnt mean he won't argue with you too. you dont piss him off as easily but if you want to be annoying to him on purpose, expect him to raise his voice at you.

[rindousbbg]

Summery: You guys broke up due to a stupid reason and he's getting you back no matter what.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: None

Requested: No

A/n: took so long, finished it long time ago but forgot to post 😭. Reblogs are appreciated.

Mikey wasn't certainly good at most of the things but love. He never understood the concept of the word called love. Surely he never dated, he was too occupied with gang shit that he never really thought of love and to give any attention towards it.

Until you came and swept him off his feet. You weren't more special than any girl, you were simple and kind like the rest of them. But what made his heart flutter when you respected his passion for his gang? Brought him his favourite snack-dorayaki. When you comfort him all the time whenever he gets upset because of his dead brother. You never left him or made him feel small.

He was very glad because of that but yet after getting into a relationship you both shortly broke up after 1 year. Why? You still questioned yourself.

Was it because you have gotten chubbier? Or was it because you have gotten skinnier and it made you look like a skeleton? Or was it because he was ashamed to call you his girlfriend in front of everyone or was it because he was simply tired of you, your nagging and the simple gesture of being worried for him? You still wonder about that.

But why does it hurt Manjiro so much to look at you with another boy instead of him?? Something isn't right when you are with someone else, you should be with him. He was shameless after practically breaking up with you for no reason and a proper explanation he still wanted you to look after him and only him. Call him possesive but isn't what he is?

"Are you dating him?"

A cold voice spoke out behind you making you immediately turn.

"What are you...doing here?"

You spoke slowly, too shocked to say anything. He was the least expected person to be here.

You were waiting for your name co-worker to come back from the store since you needed some food supplies.

"You didn't answer my question"

"You didn't either"

He blankly stared at you.

"You have bad taste"

"Huh"

You questioned him.

"What do you mean?"

"Your taste has gotten worse"

You widen your eyes at his statement, what does he mean by that? Was he thinking you and your co-worker are dating and that's why he is saying? Or something else.

Questions after questions keep flooding inside your head making your head spin.

"We aren't..dating"

"Really?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his statement.

"What you are doing here anyway?"

"To buy dorayaki what else...don't think I'm stalking you or something"

His tone changed after your last statement, which makes you wonder if was it really because he was relived you weren't dating your co-worker or if was it because he has bipolar disorder.

"Okay, I guess"

You decided to walk away from him. But he keeps catching up with his bike. You stopped in your tracks.

"What do you want?"

"Aight, let's get back together"

You stared at him as if he was talking gibberish.

"Are you for real?"

"For real"

he smiled confidently.

"No, we broke up already"

"Well we did but it was your fault anyway"

He gasped dramatically and shook his head at you imitating a hurt expression.

"You ate my dorayaki".

He exclaimed once again.

"Geez Mikey it was just a dorayaki"

You rolled your eyes.

"See, that's a valid reason"

you stared at him for some seconds and started to walk away as fast as you could.

"Wait!"

"What now?"

He took a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"for?"

"I took this matter too far"

"You did"

He wondered everywhere except you, he was trying to find words to tell you but looks like he could not find any.

"Ken-chin told me that it was too childish and I was immature acting like a kid"

"He is right and you are a kid though"

His eyes darkened.

"I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I couldn't fall asleep nor eat peacefully"

"So you are bringing me back just for your own benifit?"

He shakes his head.

"No. You are kind of my habit. Just like people can't spend a day without blinking their eyes I can't spend my day without you, I need you. Please forgive me and let's get back together"

"That was... lowkey cringe"

You murmured to yourself.

"I heard that"

"I missed you"

He smiled.

"Hop on my bike already"

You did as he said and drove off somewhere. It was already evening. He stopped, parking the bike somewhere.

"Mikey?"

He hummed.

"Will you leave me ever again? For somebody else?"

You asked him.

"Never."

"How can I believe you? You broke up with me because of a dorayaki."

He realized how big of a matter it was to you. He felt bad for making you feel this way.

"Come here!"

You did and closed the distance between you and him.

"Would you mind?"

He pointed at your lips. You understood what he meant and slowly nodded.

Soon he brought his lips closer to yours and placed his lips onto yours, it was a soft and gentle kiss. Mikey didn't have to say anything after it. The kiss said enough about how he misses you. The slight desperation was visible that he had missed you.

Shortly after, he pulled away.

"I don't know about promises or keeping them but I promise that I won't do that again"

You both stared into each other's eyes once again.

"You sure?"

He gave you a small smile and leaned once again to let his lips collide with yours to tell you the answer.

[lovebugism]

Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

[neteyamssyulang]

Rut cycle

Day 6

Continued from Day 1

Pairing: Lo’ak aged up x Fem omaticaya reader

Warnings: Dom Lo’ak, Sub reader, Neteyam Cheating/not caring reader is mated, P in V, slightly possesive Lo’ak, Angry Lo’ak, Scenting.

Word count: 765

Translation(s): Kelku -> Omaticaya home

A/N: Since y’all wanted a part 2, here it is😭 I’m sorry if it’s not that good

How could this have happened? As soon as you woke up you winced from the slight pain coming from between your legs. Lo’ak and you hadn’t slept together for awhile so he couldn’t have been him, could it?

As you were getting dressed, putting on your new loincloth and top that was decorated in beads and small flowers, the flaps of your kelku burst open with an angry looking Lo’ak walking towards you.

Your hairless brows furrowed “Lo-” “Save it!” He shouted, pushing you till you back was against the nearest wall “Why are you acting like this? I didn’t do anything!” You hissed.

Lo’ak chuckled but it didn’t sound like a good one, no- it sounded dark, his eyes gazed into yours, a hungry look in them as his tail swayed behind him.

“Do you think i’m stupid mamas? I saw him sneaking out of your kelku last night, you even still reek of him” he spat. Lo’ak was no fool, he saw his brother sneak out of your kelku as he was heading over, wanting to be near you since he couldn’t sleep.

Of course, when Lo’ak brought it up to Neteyam he completely denied it, stating he was at his girlfriends kelku sleeping. That just made Lo’ak furious, his own brother lying to him. So naturally he came to you next.

You shook your head “No Lo’ak, I swear I don’t know what happened. I was sleeping and if he did come in I didn’t hear him.” Lo’ak scoffed “Liar! First my own brother lies to me and now my mate.”

“Lo’ak I-” “Save it y/n” he huffed, releasing his hold on you and backing away before exiting the kelku. You were so confused but if Neteyam was here it would explain why you woke up with slight pain, sighing you walked out the kelku determined to find Neteyam and get some answers.

After about maybe 20 ish minutes you find him alone, laying underneath a tree sleeping. Quietly you made your way over, then once close enough you kicked him in his side.

Neteyam woke up yelping “Eywa y/n! What the fuck was that for?!” He seethed standing up, his left hand moving to rub his side.

“Oh I don’t know, lemme see” you stepped closer, stepping on his foot “Why don’t you explain to me why Lo’ak said he saw you sneak out of my kelku last night.”

He raised a hairless brow before shrugging “I simply took what was supposed to be mine that’s all.” Before you and Lo’ak mated, you were originally supposed to mate with Neteyam. Unfortunately you didn’t like him like that, his brother was the one who caught your eye.

So with you mated with Lo’ak, Neteyam was forced to mate with another. He never loved her though, sure he acted like he did but you were the only one he wanted. He didn’t give a fuck if you were his brothers mate.

“Neteyam I’ve told you many times, I do not like nor love you!” You hissed in frustration, why does he always have to ruin shit.

He smirked “How many times do I have to tell you that I do not care. I will take what is mine whenever I want to” slowly he reached out, placing his right hand on your cheek while the other went to the small of your back.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you, “Stay away from me Neteyam, stop trying to ruin what I have with Lo’ak”

Neteyam held his hands up in surrender “No promises princess.”

The walk back to your kelku was short, but as soon as you walked inside, you were thrown onto the cot, clothes torn off, mouth gagged with Lo’aks fingers as he roughly thrusted into you.

His eyes were hooded, pupils were blown wide. You could also tell his scent had changed, it was more sweet and alluring. It was his rut-

Lo’ak groaned above you, loving how tight you felt around him. Your muffled moans and cries filled his ears, encouraging him to go harder.

You choked around his fingers as your fingers clawed at his sides, your tail coiling around his thigh. He hissed leaning down, still smelling his brother on you.

He nuzzled his face against your cheek and into the crook of your neck, trying to place his scent on you once more. “Your mine y/n, not that bastards, mine! Understand?” He growled out.

Too fucked out to answer, you simply nodded your head. Pleased, Lo’ak smiled “There’s my good girl.”

[spahhzy]

Stupid crack idea:

What if the Curious Cat is actually a woman disguising herself as a cat (like Yoruichi in Bleach) and simply possess Jaune because she’s down bad, but doesn’t know how to communicate it across and is afraid of getting rejected? But actually just wants his love.

POSSESED BY A ELDRITCH MONSTROSITY WHO LOVE'S ME?

-

Jaune: Hi, my name is Jaune Arc. Short sweet rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it. Apparently, so do demons from another realm.

CCJaune: Ooh honey, I love you too!

Jaune then hugs himself.

Jaune: So yeah, this is Curious Cat, or CC for short, I still haven't figured out a name for them yet.

CCJaune: And when you do, it will be the most lovely of names!

Jaune: You're probably wondering how i got to this point, and well, it involves a helping of depression, psychosis, emotional manipulation, and body horror!

CCJaune: All of that was to show you how much I love you! And it all worked out in the end, didn't it. I get you, and I get to get my questions answered, and you get me! Win-win.

Jaune: You threw me into a depression and used my friends against me before attaching yourself , painfully might I add, to my soul and have some control over my body in a 70/30 bit, If this is how you love, I don't wanna see how you hate.

CCJaune: Darling, please, this was the only way I could get both of my wishes to come true! I love you, but you know I need to know why they left me to rot! Besides, humans could only DREAM of getting as close to you as I can.

Jaune: joy...a dream come true.

[casual-socks]

HI IVE BEEN MASSIVELY HYPERFIXATED ON TMA FOR ABOUT A YEAR AND IVE SEEN MAYBE ONE (1) SINGULAR PERSON TALK ABOUT THIS and i am not even kidding when i say its been a passionate topic of conversation for that entire year. people know me for this. it comes up and my entire friend group SIGHS AUDIBLY because they know the 20 minute tangent i Will be taking

WHATTTTT IS GOING ON WITH GERARD KEAYS NAME. what. what???? okay i

youre telling me jonathan sims went to oxford college (relatively prestigious if my memory serves me correctly) for RESEARCH. for, to put it simply, READING. and he looks at the name gerard and goes Yeah looks like jared to me lets go with that!!! HELLO?? NO?? not even mentioning the fact that he is being what could easily be called possesed when reading these statements which leaves us with two options

1. the ENTIRETY OF ENGLAND CANNOT PRONOUNCE THE NAME GERARD.

2. jonathan sims is so monumentally stupid that he is somehow breaking this possesion for the 2 seconds it takes to say the name gerard (i love him i swear i will sound so so hateful for this entire post but its out of love)

and like??? its not even that EVERYONE is calling him jared? elias and gertrude have both called him gerard and thats just off the top of my head. i also think jon said it correctly ONEEEE SINGULAR TIME. Just the once.

now i feel it necessary to mention jared hopworth here as well. because why, why on gods green earth, would you name a character gerard. pronounce it jared. TURN AROUND AND GO. lets make another jared but this ones made out of meat and is sort of implied to not be too fond of gay people. Yeah he steals peoples bones. Yeah.

SO LIKE GERARD KEAY IS THE OBJECTIVELY SUPERIOR JARED EXCEPT HES NOT JARED HIS NAME IS LITERALLY GERARD?? FUCK YOU SO MUCH

so okay. sure whatever this podcast is sooo british that a bunch of people are just completely failing to pronounce gerard. sure. whatever you say.

GERRY?????? HIS FUCKING NICKNAME IS GERRY???????????? NO!!!!

NO. no. LOOK ME IN MY EYES. LOOK AT THE NAME GERARD. GER-ARD. AND YOURE TELLING ME YOURE GONNA CALL HIM JARED. SND THEN YOURE GONNA CALL HIM GERRY WITH A G???? gerry with a g. that is utterly ridiculous i cannot even believe this that is monumentally frustrating i cannot even begin to describe to you all the anger i have experienced over this particular bit because why on earth would you take that particular extra step??? gerard -> gerry. sure. thin ice, but sure. jared -> jerry. sure! yeah! makes sense! GERARD -> JARED -> GERRY? you must be playing some sick joke jonny sims. seriously. you are a cruel and usual man

now this is when i start to wind down, but far from where i finish. lets take a moment to really pause and soak in his actual name here.

gerard.

that is so unfortunate already i mean really, gerard is such a…. a name…. i mean his mom skins people and puts them in books and the cruelest thing i think she ever couldve done is honest to god name her son gerard.

keay.

now dont get me wrong. theres nothing seriously wrong with spelling it keay on principle. but god, really? youre gonna shove all this gerard gerry jared business in front of me and tell me his last name is just key but gone the extra mile. really feels like the cherry on top of a shit cake.

now if you consider gerards character i truly feel as though thats the deepest disservice here. gerard keay is an incredible character whos short appearance is so memorable and charming, and despite his VERY little screen time he still has an intriguing and well fleshed out character. really, gerard keay is so excellent character wise. But, every time i think about him for any more than 5 minutes, almost this exact rant is being told to whoever is unfortunate enough to be near me at the time.

another thing i think also really adds to this is just the nature of gerard keay. everything you can say about that guy could be ended with “and everone calls him jared for some reason”. hes emo and everyone calls him jared for some reason. his hair dye job is so miserable that EVERYONE mentions it and everyone calls him jared for some reason. he has mommy issues and everyone calls him jared for some reason.

okay i need to wrap this up before i start just repeating WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY for thousands of words but heres a graph i made for my friends in october 2022 when i was going on about this in the middle of my spanish class 👍👍

[emmg]

Hello love Can I ask for Raphael x reader where Raph actually shows love, buuut in his own twisted way? One of my fam members had autism and he never ever said those three words, but showed it in acts of service and paying attention to what you say/do aaand i was thinking about Raphael who tries to show how much he loves her(or them) but well he's not very good at this. Tav reading book- he will read it too, because he cares...just to tell her how much it sucks. She's bleeding after a fight? Throws her into his healing pool and tell her how stupid she is for the whole time he's with her and how she wastes his time, but won't leave her alone, because what if this dumb mortal drowns herself? A guy said something to her and she felt like sh*t or he touched her to make her uncomfortable? He would give her a very fancy box with big bow and smiles innocently at her ; 'Come on little mouse..open it' just for her to see somebodys hand or head 'oh..this? its this creep from yesterday' Tav wears something cheap? oh boy he would tell her everythink he thinks about this rag. She thinks he wants her to wear only expensive things, because how she looks=his reputation but the truth is he thinks she deserves only the most lavish things in her life and he wont allow her to live below HIS standards And his fav way of showing love is giving her mortal who hurt her in any way already beaten so they wont demage his precious possesion, but conscious enough so she can enjoy torturing them (for sure he does it for his own amusement more than hers)

What a fun prompt! Although, to be fair, I can't exactly make it totally healthy because Raphael isn't an emotionally healthy person to be in a relationship with so this is still a little bit dark, though definitely not awful haha.

ETA: ah crap I missed the part about x reader. So sorry about that. In my defence, I truly cannot write from second person point of view. I’m very, very sorry anon. I’ve tried before and it feels awkward to me and everything comes out… bad.

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

Sometimes she feels hollowed out, as if something essential has been scooped clean from within her. She’s not sure why she stays—or even if she’s staying at all. Maybe he’s holding her here, maybe she has no choice, maybe she lost that freedom long ago. Because you don’t walk away when Raphael is speaking; you don’t walk away when he’s watching you. And his eyes are always on her, always, always, always following.

That gaze—it leaves her feeling half trapped, half sanctified, as though caught in some dreadful, holy spell. He doesn’t look at others this way, she knows that, but that knowledge only tightens the hold, winds the snare around her. It’s nothing, she tells herself—this attention, his careful watch—yet it feels like everything, a binding without words, a noose drawing tighter, a claw sinking deeper. Time twists strangely when he’s near, spiraling into something she can’t name, and she can’t help but wonder: will his interest wane, fade away to nothing? Or will it sharpen, tighten, until it consumes her, leaving her breathless, until there’s no space left at all? 

If it does—if he closes around her entirely, if his grip becomes her world, pressing in until there’s no air, no light, only him—what will she be then?

And she’s not even sure if he cares. He holds her there, yes, but it feels like watching a game; his own personal mousetrap, an exquisite little experiment to see how far she'll reach for the cheese. She wonders if he’s simply taking what he can, drawing her deeper until he tires of her, only to discard her when he does, laughing at her fascination with him. She can almost see it—him spitting in her face, turning her out with a sneer, then pulling her back in just as quickly. He'd fuck her, taunt her, pull her close only to watch her shatter, then laugh, invite her back with a gift, something golden, expensive, dripping with indulgent mockery. 

But then there are the other things he does, things that somehow feel worse—things that make the walls seem as though they’re closing in, or maybe as if he’s drawing her into some embrace she can’t escape from. She’s not sure which would be more terrifying. 

Sometimes, when they’re in Avernus together, she finds the portals dead, the way back to her world—a world of soft light and mortal trivialities, the Gate and its grime—suddenly blocked, cut off. And it's always the same dance. She demands an answer, asks why she can’t pass through, why she’s stuck here in this burning place with him, unable to flee back to the familiar. And he only waves her off, barely looking up, irritation flickering in his gaze. He says he hasn’t the time to bother with “simple magic,” that she can wait. 

But he knows, he knows damn it, that she can barely summon a spark, let alone force open a gateway on her own. He knows she’s trapped, helpless as a moth in a bottle, wings beating frantically against glass she can’t see. And he watches her, almost bored, as she paces, her panic ripening, sinking roots in her chest. Because he knows she won’t leave, can’t leave, and he’ll let her struggle just long enough to make her feel it—the helplessness, the claustrophobia, the bitter thrill of his control, closing around her, almost gentle, almost loving.

And then, only then, he flicks his fingers, and the portals blaze open, bright and mocking, as if they’d never gone dead at all. 

She's interrupting him, Raphael says, a nuisance he has no time for. Important matters, contracts to seal, souls to collect—real work to do, and here she is, lingering in his shadow, hovering as if she belongs, asking him to breathe life into a stupid portal. He snaps at her to leave, to stop her pestering, to get out of his sight. And so she does, shrinking back, biting her lip, retreating into her quiet corner.

But then, later—always, somehow, later—he comes to her, waking her from half-sleep as he climbs over her, pressing down with a heat that seems to burn straight through her skin. He murmurs his need, his lust, his rough, clumsy want, lips grazing her ear with words that are half-whispered, half-demanded. And she lets him, wraps her arms around his back, holds him, breathes through the rush of his hands, the awkward rhythm of his taking. 

She feels the weight of him, the feverish heat, and she sighs into it, into him, because in the Hells, everything is unbearably hot. His skin burns against hers, more furnace than flesh, and though she knows he’s hasty, heedless, that she’s just an outlet, a brief relief, she takes it. She lets herself be consumed by it, that pressing heat because here, with him, it’s as close to comfort as she’ll ever get.  

But sometimes there are moments that make her think he might care, moments she savors, drinks in slowly, wondering if they're real or merely the product of his boredom. She can never quite tell, but she doesn’t mind; she lingers on these glimmers of gentleness, holds them in her memory far longer than she should. 

Like when she’s soaking in his absurdly large bath, reclining in the steaming water with her arms folded along the edge, her head resting on cool stone, hair spilling loose behind her. She’s doing nothing at all, simply breathing in the warmth, letting the steam curl around her. And then he appears, slipping into the room, extending those long legs of his, rolling up his sleeves as he settles by her side. He doesn’t join her in the water; instead, he simply sits, a book resting in his hands, the very one she finished days ago. 

She watches, amused, as he leafs through it, the prominent wrinkle between his brows deepening with each page he turns. His expression is one of studied distaste, the kind that would be comical on anyone else. But on him, it’s strangely captivating. 

“Unhinged drivel,” Raphael mutters finally, his tone ripe with disdain. 

“Hm,” she echoes, half-lidded, watching him through the steam. 

“Why do you read this?” he questions. “I have half a mind to burn it. The sheer embarrassment of sharing the same air with it—I hardly want it in my library.” 

She smiles, faintly, eyes closing as she stretches a little deeper into the warmth. “I’m done with it,” she replies, lazily. “Do what you wish.” 

He taps two fingers against the spine. “The Duke is an absolute cretin, I must say.” 

“Oh?” she murmurs, her voice barely a breath above the water’s surface. 

“Utterly insipid,” he continues. "Such posturing, such shallow arrogance. I wouldn’t offer him a contract if he were the last soul on the proverbial platter.” 

She laughs then, quietly, letting the sound ripple through the steam. She knows Raphael is just indulging in his own particular brand of superiority, delighting in the verbal dissection, and maybe he doesn’t care for her company at all. But still, he stays, perched beside her, weaving disdainful monologues that settle like warm coals in her chest. And for a moment—just a moment—she lets herself pretend that he’s here for her. 

He continues, eyes fixed on the offending book as if it’s a particularly irksome insect. “The Duke’s speech in chapter five...” he says. “So very witless, wouldn't you say? Who professes undying love with such clumsy metaphors? And in the garden, no less, like a character in a tragic farce. ‘You are my sun and moon,’” he scoffs, his voice rising to a mock-romantic lilt. “‘My stars, my breath, my—’” 

He pauses, catching her wide-eyed, incredulous look. A faint smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, and there’s a glimmer of something—mischief?—in his gaze. “Oh, little mouse, don’t look at me like that. Surely you didn’t think I’d stoop to reading this… for enjoyment?”

She raises an eyebrow, half-laughing, half incredulous. “You read it?”

“Of course I read it,” he replies, with all the haughtiness of a scholar who’s just suffered through a poorly constructed essay. “I couldn’t very well leave such intellectual refuse lying about in my library without inspecting it first.” 

“Just inspecting it? Raphael, you just quoted chapter five.” 

He waves his hand dismissively. “A tragic misfortune. I assure you, it was purely incidental. I only skimmed enough to confirm my suspicions about its total lack of merit.” 

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes, watching as he flips another page with painstaking precision. “Is that why you’re carrying it around?” 

He raises an eyebrow, looking at her over the book with that familiar, aristocratic arch of his brow. “Little mouse,” he drawls, his tone both affectionate and condescending, “you really must learn what jests are. I can’t go about explaining them every time, you know.” 

The novel is set aside.

His hand slips below the water, and she knows, he’s done talking, at least about her books. His fingers graze her skin, tracing erratic patterns. She feels his hand leave her only to hear the soft rustle of fabric, and then he’s there, sliding into the water, slipping behind her. 

His arms wrap around her even as he pushes her against the cool stone of the bath’s edge. She feels his impatience in the way his hands move—roaming, relentless, almost rough, his fingers pressing into her skin, biting, digging between the ribs, as if he can’t bear to be gentle.  

One hand cups her shoulder, anchoring her as his other hand travels down her side. It moves in a slow sweep, now a caress, almost reverent, then shifting, tracing a path with no pattern, simply moving, as if he’s learning her contours anew. His grip tightens, loosens, a rhythm that speaks of need and very little restraint. 

He dips his head, face buried in her hair, and she feels the weight of his breath, the moist heat of it on the exhale. There’s a hunger in his closeness, an intensity that borders on obsession. He’s quiet now, all the long-winded, self-important monologues silenced, his usual need to fill the space with words abandoned. 

She feels him pressing against her back, the hard, insistent weight of him, the subtle rock of his hips, and she sighs, her body folding further against the edge of the bath, yielding to him. The warmth in her chest spills out, dissipating into something intangible, and once again, she wonders: Was this all just a performance for her, or something he needs for himself? Was that little, half-sweet conversation meant to soften her, make her more pliant? Or, against all logic, did he truly want to speak to her, to share in that strange, fleeting intimacy? 

She wonders if he cares, even a little, if those sarcastic, needlessly elaborate jests of his are meant to coax a smile from her, to make her laugh. Or is it all calculated, a ploy to keep her engaged, to ensure that when he fucks her, she meets him with something more than passive resignation? She feels his fingers tighten on her waist, his breath hitch, and for a moment, just a moment, she allows herself to believe there’s something deeper beneath his touch, something that holds her in place as much as his arms do. 

There are other moments too, moments that sink into her like a sickness, twisting her stomach, filling her with a dread so deep it almost makes her want to flee, to scrub herself clean, to be rid of him. And yet, those same moments leave her feeling strangely exhilarated, a little unhinged, as though some part of her is thrilled by the horror of it all. 

Take the merchant, for instance. A two-penny swindler, trying to pass off cheap fabric as something exquisite. She spots his scam instantly—anyone with half a brain would—but he’s audacious, leaning in, voice low and greasy as he sells his lie. She calls him out, unimpressed, and he snaps, calling her a cunt. She flips him off without a second thought and moves on, thinking nothing more of it. She’s heard worse, so much worse, and just because she looks the part of a noblewoman at Raphael’s insistence doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the dirt and sweat of her own past. She knows the cheap tricks—how cloth is dyed in back alleys, stained with whatever can be found, how insect paste and a dash of alchemical solution turn cotton into “silk” for gullible morons. She’s done it all herself, seen the worst of it, and this pathetic attempt to cheat her hardly scratches the surface. 

She forgets the encounter entirely—until the next day. Raphael barely glances up from his writing, absorbed in the ink-stained pages of yet another infernal contract, when he pushes a small, ornate box across the table toward her. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge it beyond a faint, almost bored gesture. She blinks, glancing from the box to him, and then back, curious but wary, wondering if this is another one of his games. 

She takes it, hesitates, then lifts the lid. 

Inside, nestled against dark velvet, is a finger. Blue, bloated, stiff with the grip of death. Her stomach turns, nausea creeping up her throat as she stares at it, bile rising as the realization settles—this isn’t just some random, expensive trinket. It’s a message, as clear and cold as the dead flesh before her. 

“Oh,” she whispers, voice strangled, unable to look away from the pale digit lying in the box, rigor mortis locking it in a ghastly curl. Her hands are trembling, fingers itching to drop the box, to shove it away, to wipe away the memory of this grotesque gift. 

She looks up at him, horrified, and finds his gaze resting on her, idle, yet somehow amused. 

She stares some more, her mind spinning as she tries to process what she’s holding, what this grotesque little gift is meant to convey. A part of her wants to retch, to bolt from the room, while another, unhinged part of her feels an inexplicable pull, an urge to draw closer to him, to be entangled in whatever madness constantly hangs off his sleeve. 

But she doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, she lets out a half-laugh, shaky and weak. “That’s… not what usually comes in jewelry boxes.” 

Raphael arches a brow. “I’ve given you plenty of jewelry, little mouse. Rings, bracelets, earrings—a whole collection of baubles you hardly deign to wear. Lavaliers, circlets, gems so fine even the simpering nobles of Waterdeep would weep for them. And yet, here you sit, determined to remain a rube.” He tsks, rolling his eyes with theatrical annoyance. “Mayhaps, I thought, just mayhaps, you might appreciate something different to suit that plebeian palate of yours.”

“Whose is it?” she asks, though she already knows. She feels the answer in the pit of her stomach, in the memory of yesterday’s insults and her dismissive walk away. 

He only shrugs, dipping his quill in ink. “I’m told he was a merchant.” He pauses, as if to savor the uncertainty flickering across her face. “Or was it a dockhand? Perhaps a barkeep. Truly, who can keep track of such insignificant lives?” 

She watches, spellbound in a way she can’t quite understand, as he sprinkles pounce over the wet ink, the tiny white particles catching the dim light. He lifts the paper, blowing the pounce off with a sharp exhale that sends the fine dust scattering into the air, drifting toward her. She coughs, swatting it away, a moment of reflexive frustration breaking through her discomfort. 

“So many names,” Raphael murmurs, almost to himself. “So many lives, so many inconsequential little people. It’s hard to keep them all straight, isn’t it?” 

She stares at him, a blend of revulsion and fascination churning within her. His words hang in the air, so careless, so detached, as if snuffing out a life meant nothing more to him than discarding an old, forgotten knickknack. And yet, he looks at her now, watching, as if expecting her reaction, waiting to see if she’ll recoil or lean closer. 

She leans closer, letting the moment pull her in, and he gives a satisfied little hum, returning to his writing with an air of contentment, as if the world is exactly as it should be. She watches the steady flow of his hand, the way his quill glides across the page in elegant, looping strokes, his cursive rising and falling. Her mind, however, catches on another thought, one that wraps around her and refuses to let go. 

He cares, she thinks, or at least he acts as though he does. This is how he responds to insults aimed at her, as if her offense is his to avenge. But another thought lingers, darker and heavier. He knows—that’s what unsettles her. If he knows, that means he saw, or had someone watch on his behalf, and that means she’s never truly alone, even when he isn’t there. She wonders how far that gaze extends, if he’s tracking her every step, every word, if he’s marked her movements like pinpoints on a map, an invisible tether she’s unknowingly bound herself to. 

Her hand drifts to her throat, almost absently, fingers brushing the skin there as if she might feel some hidden collar, a leash she’s been wearing all along without realizing it. But of course, there’s nothing—just bare skin and the faint, lingering warmth of her own touch. Still, the thought unsettles her, sends a flutter of anxiety mixed with something else, something uncomfortably close to… warmth. A warmth that spreads through her chest, that holds her in place despite the quiet urge in her feet to stand, to move, to walk as far as she can. 

But she doesn’t. Instead, she stays there, leaning close, just watching him as he writes, utterly absorbed in whatever Infernal text he’s crafting. And as she watches, that warmth in her chest grows, mingling with her apprehension, a mix of dread and fascination that knots itself around her, binding her there as securely as any leash he might conjure. 

Another day, another reckoning. 

She’s a mess of bruises, skin mottled and darkened so thoroughly she resembles a patchwork quilt rather than a woman. There had been a brawl, Astarion may or may not have thrown punches he couldn’t back, and they both may or may not have drunk too much. Korrilla may or may not have been at the Caress at the same time, her wicked laughter mingling with the chaos, and now her nose is a crimson fountain, dripping ceaselessly. Even the potion Korrilla forced down her throat did nothing to blunt the ache, the slight sneer on Korrilla’s face as she half-carried her back to the House of Hope making it clear she didn’t particularly want to be back tonight. 

When she stumbles in, Haarlep just laughs, calling her a “bloody, battered fool” and waving her off in disgust when she starts peeling off her clothes. With a muttered “Ew,” he disappears as she limps toward the restoration pool, her one salvation tonight. She knows it’s usually reserved for soothing injuries from far more… pleasurable encounters, but she hardly cares as she sinks into it, wincing as the water starts working its magic, stitching up minor cuts and scrapes as she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. 

She drifts, the water lapping around her, letting the throbbing recede—until a sharp yank at her scalp rips her back to the present, her head wrenched above the water. She chokes, sputtering out bloody droplets as her eyes snap open, and she finds herself staring at Raphael’s livid face, exasperation etched in every line. His hand is tangled in her hair, and her scalp stings from his tight grip. He glances down at his dripping sleeves, soaked from pulling her up, and curses. 

“What a stupid way to die,” he hisses. “Drowning in my boudoir because you’re too idiotic to stay awake.” His fingers tighten in her hair, and there’s no mercy in his eyes. “Take a deep breath now.” 

She barely has a second to react before he shoves her head under the water, his hand pressing down with unrelenting force. Her body jerks, and she inhales raggedly before he drags her up again, just long enough for her to gasp for air and catch his sharp, appraising look before he shoves her down once more, holding her under like a misbehaving dog in need of punishment. Water floods her nose, stinging as she chokes, her hands scrabbling for purchase against the pool’s edge. 

Up again, another cursory glance, and then he plunges her under once more, his grip firm, a rhythm of punishment and cleansing, as though he’s scrubbing the night’s sins from her with each forced dunk. She claws at his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, and he finally releases her, leaving her gasping and hacking as she collapses against the pool’s edge, water pouring from her lungs in a desperate, wheezing cough. 

She realizes then, as she shudders and coughs, that the blood is gone; her nose, once a mess of numb throbbing, now feels raw but whole. She clutches the pool’s edge, head bowed, catching her breath as the water stills around her. Raphael just stands there, dripping, sleeves ruined, as he observes her. 

“Well,” he mutters, flicking water from his fingers with a faint sneer, “at least you’re less of a mess now.” 

He hauls her from the water, pulling her sodden form from the boudoir and away from the rumpled heap of her clothes. His eyes drift over them—the plain tunic, the uninspired trousers, the scuffed leather boots—with a look of disdain so pointed it almost makes her wince. 

“An offense to beauty itself,” he murmurs, almost to himself, though the words slap her just the same. “These… things.” His lip curls. “They will burn. They’re an affront to my eyes, and my patience is wearing thin.” 

His gaze slides back to her face, catching on her bruised nose, and he tilts her head with the care one might give a very expensive artifact. His fingers are unhurried, methodical, as he surveys her battered skin. “I don’t keep unsightly things, you know,” he says. “I like my things beautiful. It’s why I collect them—why I keep them close.” 

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, his tone shifts to something almost conversational, a careless elegance in his words that sets her nerves alight. “Tell me, little mouse,” he begins, fingers tapping idly on his thigh, “shall I lock the door?” 

She feels a shiver run through her, her voice faltering. “Which… one?” 

He tilts his head in mock contemplation. “Why not all of them?” 

“Raphael…” she starts, but she isn’t even sure what she wants to say, or if there’s anything to be said at all. 

Unhurriedly, he begins to strip off his clothes, each gesture carried out with an almost ritualistic elegance. He slips out of his doublet, casting it aside with a look of mild annoyance. “Your doing,” he sighs, smoothing an imaginary crease before discarding it. “This fabric—fine enough to silence even the heavens—ruined by your negligence. It cost more than you could dream, more than most would spend in a lifetime.” 

She watches, stuck somewhere between disbelief and fascination, unsure if he’s preparing to fuck her or simply indulging in the strange meticulousness of his undressing. Each cufflink is unfastened with almost absurd care, each tie released with the same flawless precision she knows so well. The clothes fold neatly under his hands, smoothed and arranged as if they were sacred relics, and though part of her wants to laugh at the absurdity, she knows better than to test his patience now. 

Raphael pauses, shirt open just enough to reveal the line of his throat, his collarbone stark against tan skin. His eyes pin hers and his voice takes on a melodic, almost regretful tone. “Perhaps if I lock you in,” he murmurs, “you might refrain from throwing yourself into every pit of squalor in the Gate, seeking out any hand willing to smash that face of yours.” 

“No one seeks that, Raphael,” she says, her voice sounding distant. “It just… happens.” 

He snaps his fingers with a sharp, final click. “Yes, yes,” he echoes, almost as if humoring a child. “And doors just… lock themselves.” 

[winter-sol]

🧡birthday night with Levi🎉

word count: 4,6k contents: AFAB reader, explicit sex (minors dni), fluff and smut. porn with feelings, some rough sex and possesive dialogue. levi only has one dick, sorry. repost! since tumblr is messed up. hey there! this is something I wrote for leviaday, following the events of his birthday event '23, after the party at the hotel. started as something fluffy and slightly horny. got out of hand, oops. hope it's not too late for a birthday fic uwu

also at ao3 here ;)

“Well, once again it’s only me, you, Asmo and Mammon. So much for an epic party, lmao”. Levi’s voice is a bit difficult to hear with the roaring noise of the two party animals singing a song at the karaoke machine. Asmodeus is an amazing singer, but it’s late, they’re drunk and at this point they’re screaming more than hitting actual notes.

“Yeah, it’s late though, and everyone gave their all collecting those cards today. I’m sure they all fell asleep as soon as they hit their beds”.

“Yeah, I agree.”

A particular loud sound comes out of Mammon, he seems to be quite passionate about those lyrics. Asmo sips what’s left of his drink and proceeds to do the chorus. It’s going pretty well, to be honest.

Leviathan’s hand finds yours slowly but surely, his grab is gentle and firm. He’s absolutely not shy tonight, not after he had such a great day. And not after he was so open with you a couple hours ago, at that fountain. You squeeze his hand and lean your head on his shoulder, relishing the softness of his clothes and the fragrance of his hair.

“Do you want to sing another one? I made sure to put all of your favorite openings and endings before we started.”

“You’re the best, I mean it. But I think I’m fine like this”, you answer while you intertwine your fingers with his, emphasizing your words.

You feel his breath speed up a bit only for a moment before he says “Okay. Let’s just watch those two embarrass themselves then.”

The next song seems to be a ballad, one that Asmo wants to sing alone because he claims he’s too talented to share the spotlight with stupid Mammon right now. And he wasn’t wrong at all, it was coming out quite good since he was putting his all.

The alcohol from the champagne and the wine you had drunk that night wasn’t affecting you as strongly anymore, but Levi’s companion was so pleasant and cozy you found yourself being silent while reading the lyrics on the screen through heavy eyes.

It talked about a lover who made your days brighter, who you wanted to spend the rest of your days with. Suddenly, you remembered that afternoon, at the park. The sunshine resting on your skin was warm and blissful, you had missed it so much. Still, nothing made you as happy as hearing Levi’s nervous tone while he wondered about a hypothetical wedding. You could feel your heart racing once again at the memory.

You turn to face him, and find him wearing a silly smile, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at his brothers’ display or it comes from having spent a long, enjoyable day that simply makes him happy. Maybe he’s feeling as content as you after all you two have been through today.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his cheek, making him startle at the unexpected sensation. He looks at you with big eyes, but once he notices your expression he immediately softens. Without a second thought, he kisses you on the mouth, not as chaste as you’re used to in his advances, but still a calmed, romantic one. It’s so full of feeling you melt in it for a moment.

His lips are smooth and slightly moist, the sight makes you want to keep pressing into them. He barely starts separating your mouths when you insist on kissing him again, and again. It’s not an inappropriate scene but you’re sure on any other day you’d avoid doing it in front of others, even if they’re distracted blasting the speakers. Still, right now you can’t really care about that. You can only think of Leviathan.

After a while, you two finally break the kiss, your breathing coming out restless. His arm had found its way around your back while you were busy, and now you realize how close you are to him. The joy that fills you is so strong you need to hide your face on his neck, unable to break the distance. A couple minutes must have passed, and you finally realize the song had ended and only the background music of the karaoke menu is coming out.

“Well, well, my dear MC, my dear big brother, we’re heading to our bedroom. Make sure to not stay up too late, ok? Though I wouldn’t blame you for it, am I right? Heehee.” Asmo says, a wink accompanying that sentence. Realization hits you but you try to keep it hidden.

“Hey, don’t mention something like that! Ugh. Bye, losers.” Mammon waves his hand while they disappear through the long corridor heading to the dorms.

…

“…They totally saw us, right?”

“Yep... Whooaahh, what do I do with this cringe?!” Leviathan says while he dramatically lifts his free hand to his forehead.

You grab his hand in order to calm him down, “Don’t mind, Levi, I’m sure we’ve embarrassed ourselves to their eyes harder with our cosplays and all of that. This is nothing”.

“That… doesn’t sound any better at all but I take it, lol”, he pauses and then says in a lower tone “Anyways… Well, now we’re alone and all… Do you… Do you remember what I said earlier? That maybe after the party, we…”.

You were expecting this to happen, yet you can’t help to be touched by his initiative. He’s grown so much in the time you’ve been together. “Of course. I… want to be with you tonight”. A pause. You aren’t that confident either, it’s hard to voice this kind of stuff sometimes. “Shall we head to our room?”

“Y-Yes.”

He stands up and grabs your hand, leading the way through the floor.

When you enter, you realize how luxurious the bedroom is as well. A big window displays a breathtaking scenery, city lights decorating the sight accompanied by a huge moon lighting up the dark, spacious alcove.

It’s a beautiful place, and you really want to savor this moment. You grip his hand and guide him to the large bed, expectation rising inside.

There is something you want to tell him, that you need to tell him.

You stand in front of him, suddenly thanking your height difference so you don't have to directly look into his eyes.

“Levi… today, you said it many times, and I’m not sure if I was reciprocal enough. But I wanted to tell you that I love you… I love you so much that only the fact of spending today with you, of being here with you now, it makes me as… nervous, as the first times we went out together…” God, this is harder than you thought. You end up looking at the floor when you feel his arms wrap around you tightly.

“Hey… How the tables have turned. How is it possible I’m the one comforting you suddenly? Haha…” He says, his chin resting above your head. Before he can say anything else, you continue.

“I love you. I also… want to spend many birthdays with you. And now… I want you to tell me what you want from me. Anything, everything you want, I’ll give it to you.” Your own words overwhelm you, but you try to stay calmed.

But you feel his breath catching and now you’re sure you’re not any better at all.

Before laying you down on the bed, the squeezes you in his arms one more time. Slowly, he positions himself above you, and his eyes rest on you with a look full of adoration, mouth slightly agape, kissable lips parted that you only wish to feel again.

He directs an unexpected smile towards you. “You are always everything I want, but now… I’ll take your offer, ok?”

Idiot. He made you nervous again. “Y-Yes”. You were ready to give in to whatever he’d do next, but you suddenly remembered something.

“Wait!” You exclaimed. “I need to do something first!” He only watches intrigued as you cast a simple spell directed at the door.

“It’s done. We don’t want anyone to hear a thing, right?”

“Oh?... Oh! That’s so cool! You’re so amazing!” He beams at you, expression full of admiration.

You laugh a bit. “Levi, it’s not a big deal.” Of course, you were happy at his compliment. You stare at his bright, adoring eyes, and between smiles, your lips meet each other in the middle.

The kiss starts innocently, slow and sweet. But as you give into the feeling, it grows hungry quickly.

His mouth is hot and wet, tongue finding every single spot he wants. His hands run through your hair, to your neck, your shoulders, touching everywhere he can. One goes to your upper back, holding you there, while the other goes lower. He stops for a moment, but once you grasp the hair of his nape a little too strongly, he gets the message and grabs your breast without any more reservation.

The palm cupping it moves, relishing everywhere it can, delighting in the softness of your chest. You wished your clothes weren’t interrupting, though.

His mouth moves to your neck, and he starts kissing there, tongue lavishing and giving small bites. Asshole, he wants to leave a mark. You know he has wanted for a while, but you’re too reserved to let all his brothers see that. But now, not only you don’t care anymore, but you actually gave him permission this time. You’re his to take and take you he will.

Not like it matters, you know there’s a spell you can cast to hide it tomorrow anyway.

Your train of thought is interrupted by his hands reaching under your shirt, touching your scorching skin directly. Your shirt ends up at your neck while curious fingers start grabbing your chest, softly rubbing your nipple. His other hand has moved lower as well, grabbing your thigh, a strong grip squeezing the plumpness in there, followed by a light caress.

The duality of his bold, desperate grasp, and his kind, gentle touch is only reflecting his true self, his true intentions, his unapologetic desire and sweet respect. He's just like that, and it was driving you crazy.

A violent pinch drives you back to the moment. Moving down, he looks into your eyes while he starts relieving the pain with his tongue, tenderly lapping at it while his hand now stimulates the other one.

After feasting himself with your chest, he shifts his position and grab your legs, spreading them for him to accommodate between them. He starts giving attention to your exposed belly, open mouth kisses going lower each time. When he starts unbuttoning your pants, clearly getting his intentions, you panic for a second.

“H-Hey. Is that ok? Shouldn’t I be the one… doing things to you? I… want to do it.”

His slight surprise is quickly replaced by a small laugh. “Eh? You’re worrying about that? No way, I get a free pass to do what I want, right? Then let me do this!” He says as if the mere idea of thinking that going down on you wouldn’t be pleasing for him is ridiculous. “W-Whatever comes next… Well, we’ll see, ok?”

You sigh. Fuck, now it shouldn’t be the time to make him doubt a thing. “Ok… Let’s do it”.

As he lowers the garment, he has your panties in front of him. He stays there for a while simply looking, fingers grazing the cotton fabric, following the outline of your intimate area. Of course, the pervert likes panties a little bit too much. He's captivated, the way he touches is devoted and erotic, and you find yourself wanting more.

A shameless kiss to your clothed nub makes a moan come out of you. The sound is invigorating to him, driving him to give more wet, open-mouthed kisses to your cunt. You close your eyes when he gives attention to your clit once again, sucking at it through the fabric.

“L-Levi! Ah…”

Your sweet, high-pitched whines are like music to his ears, he’d do anything to take them out of you. He pulls the fabric aside and starts tasting your folds directly, savoring your wetness.

You open your eyes and lower your gaze; you simply want to look at him while he does it. You grab his hair, soft at first, petting him tenderly. But the sensation of his fingers slipping inside you while he eats you out makes you pull at his strands. The violent gesture is arousing to him, making him delve into his ministrations even harder, his own moans muffled while his face is buried into your sex as he keeps licking and sucking, making a mess with his tongue and fingers, getting you closer to your orgasm.

“Levi, I-I won’t last much longer. I-If you want more then you should stop-”

“No fucking way. I wanna make you come. You really think I’ll end this now?”

You won’t argue with him, you’re far too gone for that. You try to look at him while he finishes you but the frantic pace of his fingers and the sloppy, wet kisses he’s giving you are too much for you. You can barely stand the pleasure growing, your legs closing around him and squeezing his head in place, unable to move out even if he wanted to. He actually likes your thighs restraining him, encouraging him to keep going harder.

His feral tongue, his knuckle-deep fingers moving inside you finally take you to the edge. Your vision blurs and only see white when your climax hits you, a loud whine escaping your throat.

As you come down, your legs relax and let go of him. You feel a final kiss down there before he parts from you, fluids and saliva running down his chin. It’d seem forbidden to even look at him right now.

“…How was that? Did you like it?”

“Huh? You’re asking that?! Don’t fuck with me.” You mutter, only playing with him, and at this point of your relationship you’re certain he gets it. “… Of course, you were amazing… As always.” You end up adding.

He beams at you, though you’re sure it’s not an innocent smile after all. “Hehehe… Great, because I’m not done with you yet.”

“Hey, let me touch you.” You let out before he gets another idea. He doesn’t have time to answer when you already reach for his clothed erection.

“A-Ah." He seems somewhat taken aback. But he reacts faster after getting so turned on, giving in. "You know I can’t say no, right?”

You can't help but grin. “On your back. Now.” You order after having his consent.

“Y-Yes.”

Resting above him, you give him little kisses on his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and his lips. The taste is not good at all, but you don’t care.

You grab his length under the hem of his pants and give a firm squeeze at the base. He lets out a groan, looking at you through his long, blue eyelashes. His dark eyes, color engulfed by his large pupils, reflect the moonlight. A shiny, innocent look to a lust-filled gaze.

“You’re beautiful, Levi.” You whisper closely to him, making sure he can hear your devotion. Your hand starts a pace, up and down, a slow movement that will lead him crazy.

“Nnnggh… MC… Keep going.”

He already has precum leaking. You pass your thumb through his slit and smear the liquid down the shaft, easing the movement. You speed up the pace only a little, and he already is squirming under your touch. So easy, so desperate.

“Give me more. Do it faster.”

He’s open about what he wants tonight, and you can’t say you don’t like this side of him. He’s so gorgeous, you want all of him.

You give his neck a few kisses before heading down, sure of what you’ll do next. He only looks at you, not even shy about it. He’s feeling greedy and won’t stop you.

A small, feather light touch of your tongue on his head has a sharp breath coming out of him. He inhales slowly, his buffed chest looking splendid from your point of view. God, he’s so sexy.

“Could you take that out for me?” You say while resting a hand above his torso, grabbing the fabric of his shirt.

He obeys easily. He wants you to look at him, he wants you to desire him. You’re greeted by the sight of his toned figure, abs and pectorals delicious under the moonlight, strong arms supporting his weight as he leans, watching you.

You’re eager to taste him, engulfing his head in your mouth, tongue teasing. Your hand works through the base while you take the upper part of his dick deeper into your wet heat. You bob your head, saliva running down his length. It makes the movement of your hand smoother. You suck firmly and after you take it off your mouth, you work it swirling your tongue. It’s sloppy, you're sure you don't look as attractive as you'd like, but you can’t stop. It's delirious, doing this to him.

He brings a hand to your hair, petting it at first. But after your pace increases, he grips the back of your head, starting to guide the movement.

Ah, you can’t complain when he gets like this. The thought of your usually timid boyfriend getting rough is the hottest thing ever. Heat builds between your thighs, eager for more.

You can feel yourself drooling around his cock, the motion fast and intense, its head hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes have slightly watered at the roughness of it, you can almost feel yourself choking on it, but he always makes sure to give you some space to breathe before pushing you down again.

You hear him moan shamelessly at the sensation, completely surrendered to the pleasure.

He slows down for a second and says “I-I’m coming. Can I… Inside…?” His voice is soft and breathy, as hot as it’s cute.

You manage to nod, unable to speak.

Resuming the movement, he guides your head down and up again, as frantic as before. The pressure drives him to the edge, and between loud whines, you feel him climaxing and filling your mouth, a thin, slightly creamy liquid easy to swallow. You’re thankful he’s a demon, with… well, different anatomy and such.

He lets out with a ‘pop’, rests of cum escaping your lips. You look at him and he looks as wrecked as you think you should look right now. Well, you must be even more messed up after that.

Mimicking his previous words, you say “So… Was it good? Did you like it?”

He laughs, with the audacity to sound embarrassed. “Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

His face is filled with bliss, but you won’t forget about the pressure you feel down there.

You decide to tease him. “So, should we get ready to sleep or-!”

“Nonononono. Nope. Not yet, ROLF. I told you; I’m not finishing with you soon. I mean, it’s already past midnight, technically it’s not my birthday anymore but I still get to have more wishes come true… Right?”

“Yes, ‘cause I’m going to kill you if you leave me like this.”

“Eek! Sorry, on my way!”

He guides you to his lap and after he settles you inside his arms, he takes off your shirt. You lift a little to undress your pants and underwear while he does the same.

After that, you take a moment to simply rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You’re eager for more, but that won’t stop you to relish your time with him. He caresses your back and your hair, giving soft kisses to your forehead.

He speaks again, his voice is hushed. “I love you, MC. Can you give me a little bit more of you tonight?”

He’s tender and sweet, it fills you with contentment and want.

You turn to face him, kiss his chin, and say “All of it. You can take all of me.”

Between passionate kisses, you straddle him, settling your arms around his neck. He locks an arm around your waist, while the other cups your cheek. Your tongues are still bitter, but the need to taste and relish each other is stronger.

You can feel his hardness against your thigh, ready for more. After parting your mouths, you murmur in his ear “Levi… put it in…”

He inhales, mentalizing himself for what’s to come.

“Ok. Move up a bit.”

You do as you’re told, and he positions his erection at your entrance. The sensation of his tip prodding at your core fills you with anticipation, and you lower yourself on it. It’s pushing inside you, inch by inch, slowly. You two are desperate for it, but you won’t accelerate things.

His cock is finally buried inside you, as much as it can fit. It’s spreading your walls, throbbing, and you give yourself some time to adjust to its girth.

You feel stuffed, it’s thick and warm, a burning sensation runs through your body.

“MC… You feel so good inside. So wet and hot…” He sounds like he’s under a spell, enchanted, fascinated with how good it is.

“L-Levi…”

“C-Can I move?” He says, his next words murmured in your ear “Please, please. Let me fuck you.”

There’s no way you can refuse to that, not now, not in any universe. You kiss his lips and nod.

The movement is slow, taking most of it out before entering again, savoring the drag. You’re so close to him, enveloped by his arms while he thrusts from below. You kiss him while he sets a pace, whining into his mouth by the sensation.

It’s starting to feel like it’s not enough, so you start moving your hips, meeting him and matching his movements. The increase of friction gets to him, a moan escaping him as well.

His hands grab your ass, decided to guide the rhythm again, growing faster. Pleasure boils inside you, arching your back while you grind your hips against him. His pounds start getting erratic, desperate for your velvety heat.

It hits your core over and over again, deep, strong, your breath is shattered, his name on your lips coming out quietly, broken.

“Leviathan- Ah! It feels good, Levi- Ah!”

He pants, his voice is rasped as he speaks, “Fuck, MC, you feel so good. Please, let me go harder.”

“Yes, please go harder, please- Ah!”

You cry out as his tempo is ruthless, unrelenting, the dirty sounds of smacking flesh resonating through the walls. He fucks hard into you, chasing his pleasure into your warmth. You look down just a little and can see his cock disappearing into your body repeatedly, an indecent view only meant for you two. It’s hot as hell.

Even if you try to match the pace with your hips, you’re not in control at all. His movements are frenetic, desperate, his strong grip using you as he pleases. You have completely given up yourself to him.

You catch his expression, furrowed brows, lascivious eyes barely open, looking at your bodies merge into each other. It only makes you even more aroused, you want him like this so badly.

“Levi” Your voice comes out as a strangled noise. “Levi! I love you. I-I’m yours. Forever- Ah!”

Your sounds turn into choked sobs, no longer able to make proper words. He’s euphoric, groaning his words “You-You’re mine. Only mine. You belong to me, no one else!”

One of his hands go to your sex, fingers stimulating your clit with a strong, merciless pressure. It takes only a few seconds to send you over the edge, hitting your second orgasm of the night. You scream at the exploding pleasure, his thrusts hard as he comes too, whining loudly as your tight walls clench around him through his climax, emptying himself inside you. Your body convulses as the last of your orgasm hits you, and collapses above him.

He pants, matching your shaking breath. After some seconds, he pulls out, and you can feel his release leaking out of you. Ugh. Well, you can’t complain, you enjoy to do it like that as much as he does.

He lays down completely on the bed, taking your weak body with him, caging it protectively in his arms, as if he’s not ready to let you go yet, not after you told and proved him you belong to him.

Your erratic breathing needs to calm down. Resting above him, your fingers brush his chest while you relax, hugged tightly against him.

Some minutes must have passed. Your head is pressed against him, face directed at the window. His heartbeat echoes through his chest, and the sound of it is comforting. Your eyes are focused again, and you can see the lights of the city. They’re still on.

You’re not sure what time it is. Apparently, dawn is close to come, but the night seems to be extending only for you. You’re thankful that suddenly the time feels so slow. At this moment, you don’t need anything else, nothing that isn’t being right here with him.

He had been petting your hair for a while, his lips pressing into your forehead makes you lean to face him. He’s smiling, infatuated eyes looking at you.

“I think this is exactly what I wanted… hehe.”

You giggle too. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy with it. I love you, Levi.”

“I love you too. You’re everything to me, my best friend, my partner, my Henry.”

You lean to kiss him on the lips, a chaste one perfect for this moment.

“Well, once you’re feeling more… recovered, I’ll ask you to take me to the bathroom. I… really need to clean myself.”

“Oh? Oh! Sure. Shit, sorry, lmao.”

You chuckle at his clumsiness, and close your eyes for a while, relishing in the moment.

---

You wake up to the sensation of a late morning sunshine touching your face, curtains wide open since no one closed them the night before. It’s a nice, cozy sensation, though. You didn’t know how much you liked sunbeams until you found yourself missing them at the Devildom.

Levi’s pressed tightly against you; the night owl seems to be still in a deep slumber. Apparently, you were the big spoon. Somehow. Considering how tall he is compared to you. You like it anyways, his hair is smooth, violet locks softly decorating his peaceful features. The word for him right now could be… ethereal. Yes.

You remembered the spell is still active, so no sound comes from outside of your room. Do you need to lift it? His brothers (though, now they’re like your brothers too) might start making a fuss over some foolishness, not something you want to deal with right now.

It’s April 10th, time waits for no one, and his birthday is over. Today, you’re all heading back to the Devildom. You certainly can enjoy this moment for longer, right?

As if sensing your thoughts, Leviathan slowly wakes up, taking his time to shift and face you, eyes barely open but clearly focused on you.

“Hey… Good morning, love.” You murmur.

His words are mumbled “Good mornin’… Why are you awake…” He yawns. “You know it’s still morning, right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to look at your cute, sleeping face.”

“W-What… Shut up!” He whines, hiding on your chest. You laugh at the silly interaction, how is he embarrassed by that after last night? He’s incredible. You kiss his temple, and after sensing his smile, you feel like you have the energy to start your day.

Another year together awaits.

thanks for reading 💖 likes and reblogs are appreciated.

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

౨ৎ ⁺ . Dolly n Honeys Collab .ᐟ 🎀🍯🐬

Hii Dolls!! im soo soo 2 do this collabs with one of my favorite blogs @honeytonedhottie !!! basically we’ll be talking about persistence and being limitless!!🧁🎀 Enjoy!!!

Honey 𝜗𝜚 ! 🍯🎀

HOW TO PERSIST ; persisting simply means reminding urself that u already have whatever it is that u want. when u persist, you decide what it is that u want and you STICK to it.

the oxford definition of persistence simply means to continue in an opinion or course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition.

your 3d literally has no choice but to catch up and reflect the new thoughts that ur thinking in ur 4d so just KEEP GOING. if ur gonna whine or complain every step of the way and think thoughts like "persisting is hard" or "theres lots of resistance/difficulty with manifesting" then thats what ur going to experience.

manifesting is easy, effortless, and instant. when u catch urself thinking thoughts that perpetuate the old story, remind urself that no matter what, whatever u persist in will harden into reality simply because it HAS to. stop getting in your own way!!

Dolly ୨୧ ! 🎀🫧🍨🛼

Limitless > Imagination!! 🎀🧁

Limitless Definition; Possesing power of an immeasurable rate a perfect way to describe your power your literally the god of your reality and you know you might think thats silly or “delusional” its so true though like ever since birth people are conditioned to believe that being negative is the more “logical” and “realistic” way to think than positive whoch is such a stupid revelation because all throughout life you meant to believe that you have to bring yourself down to earth about achieving something and that you’ll never have “__” because of “__” but that makes no sense seeing all of the extraordinary achievements that humans have done like

- build rockets and do rocket science

- walk on the moon

- build the great wall of china

and so many others including the human body its self your cells in your body healing and protecting wounds and your organs being able to stay in the designated spot no matter what and you think “logic” actually matters? everything in the human mind is projected i mean everything you use on a daily basis started off in the mind it all stems from imagination i mean just think about how everything around you started put as an idea in someones head!!

Decisions!! 🎀🍨🫧

deciding is the final decision and the final outcome no matter what no questions asked like if you went too a sushi restaurant and ordered and decided that you want a shrimp tempura roll you will have the shrimp tempura roll no matter what

Concepts !! 🎀🧁🐬

“if the concept of something can exist then that can be achieved no matter” literally something i think about alot and a direct quote from yours truly like most people do think that you can have something because its quote “unrealistic” or it “doesn’t exist” but if that were really the case than why is the concept of it allowed to prosper like if those things really didn’t exist then the concept of Billionaires or Superpowers and Superheroes wouldn’t exist or even time travel everything single one of those things are a product of imagination!!! 💭🎀

[dido-reblogs]

remunerate ● choi yeonjun

warnings: collage au, handjob and blowjob, praise, slight degradation, slight angst, possesiveness lmk if there is anything else

you felt like there was no way out. even though it was a simple project, you didn't seem to get it short out. it seemed like the only way to get through with this damn project was to ask yeonjun's help.

it would be a lot easier to ask for a favour from him if you weren't head over heels in love with him. he was always on top of everything, this included extremely difficult collage classes.

"you are always on top of everything so my only way to submit the project before deadline is your help. please help me yeonjun." you practically begged on your knees. he must pity you like this, right? unfortunately you had no idea what was crossing his mind. "Y/N, did you really have to wait for the one minute before midnight? it is due tomorrow. it would take our whole day." he simply rejected. yet what he difn't know is that you were determined. you could lose your scholarship after all. "please yeonjun, i really need your help. you are my only hope." you continued to beg.

"is that so?" you nodded as an answer. he smirked before thrust out his hand for you to help you get up. thinking you finally persuaded him, you held his hand.

"okay, i agree only with one condition." your face lighted up for a moment before realization hit. everything had a price. it should be no surprise to you yet you, for a moment, thought that somebody would help out. naivety. that was what it was. even more naive than expected clueless to what his condition was.

that's how you got here. right this moment on your knees after finishing your stupid assignment. god how pitiful you must look.

"yeonjun, i got to confess something." he caresses your cheeks and lifts your hair up to look at him. "yes, i am listening." you are not sure if this is the right time to confess but with the courage this moment gives, you decide to confess your feelings. but even though you basically agreed to use your body for his pleasure in exchange of some last minute papers to be written, you still had pride and didn't want to be only one time use whore for him.

"i love you. that's why i agreed to do this. i wouldn't be on my knees for anyone else. i am not a whore." shocked by your confession, he stops caressing your face. feeling of rejection filling your mind, pulsating like no ever.

he doesn't say anything. removing his pants without blessing you with a response. selfish him. he is selfish but you love him.

so you hug his hard cock with your hands first. back and forth movements against his cock. your pace fastens. his moaning starts.

"that's it, that's a good fucking girl. making me so happy. what a good little helper you are." smiling and whimpering to his praise, it is like you forgot you just confessed to him and he said nothing. your grip tightens around him.

thinking this will probably be the last time, too as much as it is the first time, you study his reactions. how sensitive he is. how whiny he is. how beautiful he is. angelic sounds he makes. facial expressions of his blessing your soul how you might not see those again.

you decide to take him in your mouth crisscrossing your handjob agreement. you want to taste him. you are sure he doesn't mind. so when you get a yes please from him you immediately find yourself toying with his dick with your tongue. teasing him a little.

"don't tease. be my good girl. be my only good girl." his possesive language making the butterflies dance in your stomach. his taste blowing your mind. you start to take him in your mouth. sucking and licking his member while trying to breathe and not choke. his moaning get louder. begging for you to continue. "you are doing so good, such a- a good girl. mine, all mine."

you are not sure if these words are his way of returning your feelings but you are also busy with trying to make most of this moment.

your hand holding the length you cannot fit, his thrusts to your mouth, you doing your best in sucking him, he feels like he is heaven. "the very fucking best fuck i have had. why not earlier, hm? you shy little thing. too shy to confess." you only bring your gaze upon him as an answer since your tries to hum fails. he smirks and confesses "i would have done it for free but thought it is the only way to be with you. but now i see i have an eager girl willing to be my only girl. i will reward her by using her." you struggle to moan as your mouth is full.

"i am close, keep going! just like that, good girl~" he says and you contunie what you have been doing but harder. bringing him closer to edge but suddenly he pulls out just as he was about to cum and starts strocking himself "open your mouth, you want a taste, you will get that taste. but shallow it for me. okay?"

a/n: it has barely has any editing due to my appointment with dentist today. i was suffering so sorry for that. some sentences i worked hard to find the perfect version but not every sentence. like i said due to toothache. so sorry. i planed to release it today so that's what i did.

[svgvru]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄...𝐈𝐌 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

it's dec 24th in japan; therefore, angsty and fluffy fic. major manga spoilers! sukuna v gojo mentioned, megumi mentioned. this isn't x reader, but i can make one if wanted! satosugu!!

“𝗝ujutsu sorcerers always die with regrets and always are close to death while having to tear apart the flesh of a curse." satoru had to admit, his teacher was right. he couldn't think of one sorcerer who died without regrets; it simply comes with the job. he himself has regrets; the more he thinks, the more they come. but his biggest, is his failure to protect his students.

he wonders, no, he knows...if suguru geto, his one and only, had been there─perhaps things would've turned out differently? maybe he would've had the motivation?

no.

satoru would've still lost. because even if he refuses to admit it, his humanity is his greatest weakness.

he deliberately refrained from doing an thing that would completely destroy megumi sukuna. perhaps if he had no humanity in him, he wouldn't have this regret? "the strongest," wouldn't have lost.

there would'nt be any pain in his stomach, nor blood spilling from his lips. he would'nt have caused shoko so much pain, yet there would be no megumi. he would'nt have died, but he would've left his student's soul from the depths of his possesed body.

satoru gojo's biggest regret? his ultimate failure in saving those who he desperately wanted to.

not even his one and only.

on the day of december 24th, suguru geto was executed, although his body was never presented to the higher-ups. that day, satoru was forced to sepreate himself from suguru. and as if some trick of fate, he happened to he united with suguru, just a year later.

satoru's eyes fluttered open; the scenery was much different than the crumbling buildings and megumi's face.

it was an airport.

and next to him was his one and only, smiling back at him. "took you long enough," suguru bumped his shoulder lightly. "yeah yeah," satoru beamed at the sights of those he missed. nanami, haibara, yaga, and suguru.

satoru's body slouched as he burried his head in suguru's neck. "i missed you..."

he felt a hand card through his silver hair delicately; he could feel suguru's smile against his forehead. "well, maybe i should give you a kiss, hm? think of it as a welcome─" suguru's words were interrupted by satoru's eager lips pressing against his own. suguru chuckled, kissing him back with all the love he could muster.

"would you two get a room?" they heard nanami irritated voice speak.

satoru chuckled, leaning back, "sorry."

"someone's happy to see me," suguru teases; his finger poking satoru's side. it was a teenage dream come true, literally. perhaps it was fate that they'd all meet at the moment they were last happy. "told ya...missed you."

it was quite funny to satoru as he closed it eyes and relished in the happiness he felt.

on the most romantic day of the year, he was reunited with his soulmate. even if it was in the afterlife. perhaps he'd stay in the south?

this was stupid. but idk if anyone wants to be tagged in this considering this isn't 'x reader.' but, satosugu!

[soldier-lodbrok]

❝ are you really giving me the silent treatment right now? ❞

...sometimes Kunsel seemed so mature. And other times he piped up with shit like this comment. Where Glenn just wanted to grab and shake him. He was young, very young. Well. Old enough to fight for their cause. But also so very young and stupid.

A little like Glenn himself had been all those years ago, when he had simply agreed to help a woman and her daughter at the Wall of Midgar - not knowing this would change his life forever. For the better, of course. But also set steadfast on a way more dangerous route.

And now this little jumped up shit-

"I am not giving you the silent treatment.", Glenn said with a tone that was half an exhausted warning, half disbelief. Though Kunsel's accusation was disarming, too. Boy could call him out so easily after all, still.

Shaking his head, Glenn mustered the younger rebel silently, thinking about what he could say.

"You gotta be careful whom you give your heart to, you know?"

"You're a good one, Kunsel, I know that. But she is my daughter, too. And our lives are getting more volatile by the day. I get it. I am one to speak, huh? The SOLDIER, who ran with Hojo's most prized 'possesions' and together they started a rebellion... and a family. But still... be careful. Every connection we make has to be twice as strong as those normal folks make. Everything will be put to test. Your feelings, your actions, your words. And you paint more targets on each other by doing so. Shinra will find out. I don't want either of you ending up getting hurt..."

He was serious about that. He cared for Kunsel, too. Though he would always have to clarify his next words - even if he gave Kunsel half a grin along with them.

"...but also know, if it's her who gets hurt, I will break your nose. Twice."

@kunselxsoldier

[deltaruiner]

Ok so, my favorites are:

(Lots of Sayaka themes in this)

Witch World #2 (the theme in the scene with Elsa Maria in the movies), i especislly liked the the repeat of the verse when Elsa Maria knocks Sayaka to the heavens, the change in the intensity really shows how Sayaka always forces herself to stay on the same path (verse) even when it sbsolutely brutalizes heri really love that scene!! Elsa Maria is also so far the only witch that felt like she is actually saying to herself "im gonna kill you" against the girls, the rest all felt somewhat either unaware of themselves or unthreatening tbh, and the music with Elsa's outburst really cements her as my favorite scene n song evah

also THE LOW STRINGS AAAAA the dissonance between decretum absolutely SCREAMING at high notes and the low ones feel like a desperate cry being supressed when the low instruments are playing their high notes, it really makes ot feel like a limit is being Pushed

My next favorite is Something, Everything, is Wrong along with all leitmotif songs of Mada Dame Yo, the song really gives me a vibe of cheerful yet hiding something in some versions, and twisted fairy tale vibes in others.

Mada Dame Yo itself is also a favorite, its a song that confidently "banishes" Nightmares, but also kind of comes out of nowhere in its style and the voice doesnt match any of the characters or previous songs, which makes it a lot like a witch theme (homura's!) despite being in a point where we dont even suspect witches

I loved Symposium Magarum, the repeating and loud orchestra hits really give me a "Sayaka isolating from the outside" or her saying "SHUT UP" vibes

lyric version of Sagitta Luminis just made me straight up cry, its so bittersweet and highlights just how wrong the situation is yet how wonderful what was done is and starts a new beginning and-

i dont think i need to explain why i like Decretum and Credens Justitiam

Magia really gives the vibe Homura lives by, aka, being incredibly metal yet still unable to push back despair and still being a "losing" theme despite being so hardcore and full ot determined lyrics

Connect, both the regular version and the show credits orchestra version, just make me wanna run forwards and never look back despite ANY obstacle, and just have sooooo much courage in themmmm

Same with the Holy Quintet theme from the group transformation in rebellion, it just captures all of them so well. ofc i especially love Sayaka's part bc im a sucker for my blue daughter and her and her stupid little heroic themes..... grah......

my heart cannot explain what She is a Witch does to me... it's such a burst of despair and you can't take it anymore so you curse everything around...

Human Bullet is just very unrelenting like Kyoukos personality

Confessio is very old in vibe and feels like an unapproachable monolith of a mindset formed many years ago

just like Kyoukos personality since the Incident! (i love her stubborn self)

And I'm Home just straight up killed me i will not start on this just see how i write about kyousaya

see above for Kimino Ginno Niwa but change to madohomu it just takes all of their journey and elegantly drop bombs it on you in a condensed package trimmed of everything else to maximise emotional grief like Yuki Kaijura composed it while possesed by the Incubator himself

And finally, Flame of despair...

the motifs of Oktavia's theme to show Homura finally understands what it's like to really lose it ALL... Fort/Da in the background of the scene because she simply Must pretend she is in control to simply EXIST.... the back and forth between the instruments giving ballet vibes and a ferling of chasing something which always will escape, doing so alone withe the lonely single instrument beats in between... im ILLLL

.

Anyway i like almost all songs and probs forgot a few i really like but yeah :D

watched madoka amvs and osts for 4 hours it is early morning and i have yet to sleep send rescue