i know im years late to the party but I finally watched arcane
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SO... now that the volume is over and all the depression is gone, I'm back to my 'Blake is so beautiful this Volume' agenda /jk
Volume 9 is over and I can say that Blake is so beautiful and got even more throughout the volume
Here's proof
This is just a post about me simping for Blake Belladonna, guys. I'm no better than Yang, I to would jump over the cliff for her.
Oh, and of course!
SHE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL ON THE BRIDGE SCENE
LOOK AT THIS BABY LOOK AT HER
HOW????
YANG YOU ARE SO LUCKY
Thats it, thats my TCC (thesis)
Feel free to add more frames of her through the volume I gotta know
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❛ the truth is, i don't want just anyone. i want you. ❜
Under the hushed serenade of capriciously dancing candlelight, her epidermis is ornamented in an avast, satin-like luminescence, transmuting her into the absolute specimen of carnal yearning. She emerges as a supreme being of sensual aspiration, her voluptuous silhouette seducing his psyche, manifesting before him as if Aphrodite herself had descended, morphing upon the robust tableau of his masculinity. The space is energized with a perceptible magnetism, her essence irresistibly gravitating towards his, attuned to the unrestrained, primal strength that radiates from his being, akin to the prelude of a sun’s dawning warmth. With an adulation bordering on reverence, she explores the untamed terrains of his torso, arms, and deltoids, her fingertips gliding with the ephemeral grace of autumnal zephyrs caressing Gaia’s verdant carpet. Their forms, in divine consonance, merge against one another, sculpted from transcendent matter, her presence embracing the intoxicating warmth that radiates from his core. Her palms, passionate and imperious, assert their privilege with a scorching heat that surpasses temporal bounds,— ballet of concupiscence.
In this nexus of time, her sole yearning is to disintegrate into his corpulence, to amalgamate into an inconspicuous unity with him. Her mind is now a shrine void of all but a singular, relentless urge to surrender to his sovereignty, to the exquisite tyranny of his caress. “Astarion…” An utterance, a susurration of aphrodisia, wafts upon his lips as she absorbs his enticing parfums of vodka, black pepper, and leather, unforgettable and obstinate. With a poise born of fervent concupiscence, her palms, both graceful and decisive, loosen the lace that encircles her, permitting the satin vestments to descend in a gentle cascade upon his frame, unveiling the magnificent grandeur of her denuded appearance in an aphonous pledge to the supreme being of her adulation. “Than, claim me. Enshroud me in your omnipotence, my lord.” She entreats, timbre a mellifluous caress, her gaze veiled in a miasma of corporeal craving, aroused appetite.
Perched on the brink of ecstasy, she is agog to imbibe his quintessence. Inoue, in an act of sublime abdication, inclines towards him, her debauched bosom against his, her fingers weaving through his argentate tresses as she beams, a luminescent witness to her adoration for his unparalleled pulchritude. “My precious aeterno amante.” Intones, a proclamation of perpetual amore as her fingernails delineate the contour of his lips, a harbinger to their souls’ impending fusion. Then, with a languor that belies the vehement tempest of her urge, their lips coalesce, igniting an inferno of insatiable desire that threatens to engulf them whole. The incisive, exigent fervor of her osculation arouses him. Her yearning is as deep and ineluctable as the vampiric lust for the elixir of life.
@estarion - ascended.
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