#that i genuinely thought that it was a normal thing to feel

[blank-potato]

Something Special

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary:

This time, in a sudden pfft, it sprays something directly into both of your faces—a cloud of shimmering mist exploding into the air. It smells sweet... too sweet. Like overripe fruit or syrup, or cotton candy left in the sun. Almost sickly. Bob coughs, waving his hand in front of his face. “What was that?” “A defence mechanism, perhaps—” you begin, but your voice trails off as something shifts. The stem starts to grow, elongating right before your eyes, inch by inch. Then, like something out of a sci-fi movie, thin tendrils begin sprouting from the base, curling and stretching like green tentacles. “Okay, what kind of flower shop did you go to?” you ask, backing up a step. Bob’s eyes are locked on it in horror. “I don’t know! I swear it looked normal! The lady had an apron!” Or You’ve been the live-in doctor at Avengers Tower for a year, and Bob wants to get you something special to celebrate. Unbeknownst to him, that something special turns out to be a sex plant. 

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit content, sex plant, sex pollen, p in v, cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, crazy thoughts from horny!reader, Bob's good intentions backfiring

A/N: I saw Thunderbolts earlier this week, and I felt compelled to write something! My Marvel obsession is so back, and I’m so in love with Bob, and consuming so much Thunderbolts fanfiction, I think I’m genuinely going crazy

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Bob teeters on his heels as he looks around the flower shop. He was here to get a gift for you, but he had no idea what you would like. Then, while browsing the camellias, a woman appears, half scaring the life out of him, asking him what he’s looking for, and he tells her as best he knows how.

“I’m looking for something special for someone special.”

“Special, huh?” She replies with a mischievous smile, “I have just the flower for you.”

He watches as she disappears into the recesses of the shop and wonders if he’s making the right decision. 

You were important to him, but maybe flowers were too much; perhaps you would see right through it and see the feelings he was trying (and failing) to hide. The whole team could see it. Alexei kept giving him unsolicited —and mostly unhelpful— advice about it, while John and Ava never missed a chance to tease him whenever they caught him gawking at you. And Yelena and Bucky tried their best to nudge him forward in their own ways; Yelena with blunt encouragement, Bucky with quieter, knowing looks and the occasional grunt that somehow conveyed volumes.

But Bob remained resolute, content with just admiring you from afar.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Ever since you were introduced to the team as their live-in doctor, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. You were a ray of sunshine. Exceptional at your job and had this strange but beautiful quality where you could make anyone feel at ease within seconds of meeting them. 

He felt it firsthand when he walked into the med bay in the Tower. You were sitting there, clipboard in hand, and welcomed him in with a warm smile, motioning for him to sit. He obeyed without a word, nerves already prickling beneath his skin.

“I’m just going to take some blood samples, okay?” you said gently.

His eyes darted around the room—white, sterile walls, the faint smell of antiseptic in the air. Tests didn’t often lead to good things in his experience, and he felt that this one would be no different. His posture stiffened, and his breath was shallow. But as if sensing his unease, you placed a hand on his arm, steady, reassuring.

“If you’re feeling uncomfortable, I’m right here. And if you want me to stop, you just go right ahead and tell me.”

Bob nodded slowly, looking into your eyes—your beautiful, beautiful eyes that somehow made the rest of the world fade to background noise.

“I just need you to take some deep breaths for me, can you do that?”

You looked at him with such gentle care, and for a moment, he felt like he’d known you longer than just a minute. It felt crazy how fast he was falling for you, but it was happening all the same.

“Yeah… I can do that,” he replied, voice low.

And he had never been the same.

From that moment on, he’d been falling for you—hard. Making lovey-dovey eyes at you over morning coffee in the communal kitchen, pretending not to watch you when you laughed at someone’s joke, finding excuses to linger a little longer in any room you were in. 

He toys with his watch, waiting for the florist to come back and flinches as he hears crashes and curses. He has half a mind to go and check on her when she suddenly pops out with a crooked smile and her hair askew, presenting the flower to him. 

“Trust me, your girlfriend is going to love this one. Rarest thing in here.”

“She’s…” He stops, watching as the worker flits around the shop, putting the finishing touches on the arrangement. What use was it explaining anyway? How could he put you into words?

It was a strange flower, one he didn’t recognise. Its petals folded into each other. It was unlike any flower he’d ever seen, almost alien. But it was also beautiful, rare and special. Just like you. He buys it in a heartbeat, but the anxiety that follows is sickening. As he goes back to the tower, he thinks about turning around, getting something safer—chocolates, maybe. A coffee voucher. Literally anything else.

‘Maybe it’s not good enough, or what if she hates it?’

He plays with the loose yarn on his sweater as he nervously looks down at the plant. 

‘What if she pretends to like it but actually hates it and, in turn, hates me?’

He overthinks all the way down the street, onto the subway, up the Avengers Tower elevator, until he eventually reaches the door to your office.

Then—three knocks. His heart sinks into his stomach the second his knuckles leave the wood.

The door swings open, with you on the other side of it, a smile blooming on your face as soon as you see him.

“Bob!” You say excitedly. 

You’re clearly happy to see him and hurriedly usher him inside. The rest of the Avengers had been on a mission for the past two days and counting, so it was just you and Bob. It had been quite nice to spend time with him one-on-one. You even had a movie night the night prior, which ended with Bob falling asleep on your shoulder.

“What do you have there?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, catching sight of something he's hiding behind his back.

He hesitates for a beat, then slowly brings it forward, revealing a single, delicate flower—its petals a rich, otherworldly shade of purple, like something from a dream. It’s almost enchanting. You stare at it in awe, momentarily speechless.

“It’s a gift,” he says, placing it on your desk, voice shy but steady. “To celebrate you being here for a year. I… we really appreciate you.”

Your eyes soften at his words. You can see he’s nervous, waiting for your reaction like it might determine the course of his entire week.

But all you feel is warmth. You thought it was so sweet of him to do this for you; it was so thoughtful, so Bob. You’d felt a connection with him from the moment you met, something quiet but persistent that never quite went away.

“Thank you,” you say, genuinely. “I love it. Truly.”

You’re probably smiling too much, but when it comes to Bob, you can’t help yourself. You snap out of your loving stare as something flickers in your peripheral vision.

“Is it supposed to glow?” you ask, your eyes narrowing slightly as the petals shimmer faintly, a soft pulse of light running through them like a heartbeat.

“I, uh… I don’t think so?” Bob replies, frowning.

He leans in, squinting at the flower. The glow pulses again. Cautiously, he pokes it with one finger.

The flower twitches.

“It moved,” he says, eyes wide with a mix of fascination and fear.

“What? No way.” You step closer, trying to get a better look, equal parts sceptical and intrigued.

But then it twitches again, its petals bristling at the touch, and both of you freeze.

“…Did you buy this from a normal flower shop?” you ask slowly, eyeing him.

“I thought I did!” Bob says, his voice pitching just a little higher than usual.

You poke it again.

This time, in a sudden pfft, it sprays something directly into both of your faces—a cloud of shimmering mist exploding into the air. It smells sweet... too sweet. Like overripe fruit or syrup, or cotton candy left in the sun. Almost sickly.

Bob coughs, waving his hand in front of his face. “What was that?”

“A defence mechanism, perhaps—” you begin, but your voice trails off as something shifts.

The stem starts to grow, elongating right before your eyes, inch by inch. Then, like something out of a sci-fi movie, thin tendrils begin sprouting from the base, curling and stretching like green tentacles.

“Okay, what kind of flower shop did you go to?” you ask, backing up a step.

Bob’s eyes are locked on it in horror. “I don’t know! I swear it looked normal! The lady had an apron!”

In hindsight, the florist did seem a bit sketchy. The shop was tucked away in a dark, back alley, its dim interior lit flickering by lamps that looked like they hadn’t been updated since the ’70s. The air was thick with a faint smoke that he had to try not to choke on, but in his defence, Bob had just assumed it was part of the shop’s "vintage" aesthetic. 

The flower twitches again, and one of the tendrils gently brushes your desk lamp, knocking it askew.

“We should probably contain that,” you say.

“Or burn it,” Bob offers weakly.

You don’t have enough time to deliberate before they’re coming straight for you. They coordinate a joint attack and grab hold of your shirt. It has a relentless grip on it and tears it apart without a care. In the back of your mind, you have to take a second to mourn one of your favourite work shirts.

The plant, however, is far from done with you. Before you can react, one of its slippery, vine-like tendrils reaches for your wrist, its texture cold and unnervingly smooth. It’s trying to pin you down, the tendril wrapping around your forearm like a slippery snake.

“Bob!” you yell, panic rising in your voice.

Bob springs into action without hesitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you back just in time. But in the chaos, both of you tumble backwards, your feet tangling in each other’s as you fall to the floor.

You land… on top of him.

For a moment, everything stops. Your breath catches, his heart races beneath you, and there’s a stillness, an accidental closeness that makes everything feel like it’s happening in slow motion.

“Well, that was eventful,” you comment, breathless, glancing back over your shoulder at the plant—still twitching, preparing for its next move. The tendrils are growing faster now, more aggressive, and it’s only a matter of time before it tries to grab you again.

“Watch out,” he warns, voice sharp, as he pushes you aside with surprising strength. The moment you’re clear, he rolls to his feet, eyes fixed on the plant.

It lashes out, one of its tendrils reaching for your throat, but Bob is faster, shoving you out of harm’s way just in time.

In the seconds it took you to escape from it, the plant had doubled in size, its tentacles now oozing with a thick, viscous substance. It seemed to pulse, almost alive with an aggressive energy, like it was anticipating its next strike.

The plant gives you no time to catch your breath. Before you can react, it swipes again, this time reaching for Bob’s jeans. With surprising strength, one of the tendrils successfully yanks him to the ground, dragging him closer to its growing mass. The little tendrils begin climbing up the inside of his trousers, slithering toward his legs like they have a mind of their own.

“Holy shit,” you exclaim, adrenaline flooding your veins as you rush to grab his hands, pulling with all your strength in a futile attempt to free him. Where are the Avengers when you need them?

Unfortunately, you have no super strength or any useful abilities. Bob’s still being dragged closer, inch by inch. 

But what you do have, is a pretty damn good throwing arm.

You glance around the room, your mind racing for anything you can use. Your eyes land on the lamp on your desk, your favourite one. Bob had always joked about how you wouldn’t let anyone touch it. Without a second thought, you sprint across the room, grab it in one smooth motion, and hurl it toward the plant’s centre of mass.

The lamp flies through the air, and you’re about ready to start celebrating, but just as it’s about to make contact with the plant, the tendrils shift, dodging the attack like it’s alive and aware of what’s coming.

“Crap,” you mutter. "It dodged."

This had to be one of the worst moments of your life. 

Bob tries to crawl away, his muscles screaming in protest as he drags himself across the floor. His mind is a chaotic mess, every thought running a mile a minute. This day wasn’t supposed to go like this. He was supposed to give you the gift and see that smile of yours light up your face, not get fondled by a plant monster.

The tendrils continue their relentless pursuit, now reaching the edge of his boxers, squirming and twisting, as if looking for any way to get inside. 

“Hold on, just a second!”

“Please hurry, it’s kind of ticklish,” He blurts out as he writhes on the ground, “And wet.”

They find their way inside his boxers, reaching his dick and starting to wrap their way around it, making him tremble. 

The tentacles continue to secrete that viscous liquid, slick and glistening as they slip up and around his cock, their movements still clumsy, but starting to adapt to what makes him react. Bob struggles beneath its weight, panic flashing in his eyes as the tendrils flick over his sensitive tip, starting to pulse around him.

You’re frozen for a moment, heart racing, watching him fight against the plant’s hold. The air is thick with desperation, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re going to be too late. But then your mind snaps back into focus. This can’t keep going. You need a plan and fast.

You scan the room, eyes darting from the plant to Bob and back again. The papers on your desk, the fire extinguisher near the door, the window—wait. Without wasting another second, you rush over to it, pulling it down with a swift motion. You have no idea if this’ll work, but Bob’s safety is the only thing that matters, and you’d do anything to ensure it.

“Hold on!” you shout, as you aim the nozzle at the base of the plant.

You pull the trigger.

It’s temporarily thwarted, and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you see it retreat from Bob’s jeans.

“Come on!” you shout, reaching for Bob and pulling him to his feet. The moment you’ve got a solid grip on him, you both scramble toward safety, adrenaline fuelling your movements.

You rush toward the front door, but just as you reach it, the plant’s vines stretch out, blocking your escape. The thick, twisted tendrils curl around the doorframe, trapping you in. 

You turn on your heels, panic setting in as you dash to the far side of the room. There’s only one other way out, the door that leads to the lab part of your office.

You reach the door, flinging it open just in time, and drag Bob inside with you. As you slam the door shut, you quickly lock it, the sound echoing. The room is dim, but you barely notice the light as you both stand there, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath. It’s all you can both hear before you finally break the silence.

“What the fuck?” 

He’s panicking. He’s panicking hard. 

He attempted to do something nice, something to show just how much you mean to him and the rest of the team but instead he got you attacked by a plant that wanted to fuck you. 

“I screwed this up. I’m so sorry. I... I—” He stammers, his voice trembling with regret. He tries to continue, but the words seem to catch in his throat. He’s frustrated, overwhelmed by the situation and the guilt of what just happened.

You immediately notice the signs. The way he's retreating into himself, shoulders hunched, eyes avoiding yours. The guilt and panic are all over his face, and for a moment, you realise how much this is affecting him. He must think you’re mad at him, but you’re not. Not in the slightest. You weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him; he was Bob. 

You take a step forward, placing yourself in his line of sight, standing in front of him. You don’t need to say anything else. You don’t need him to apologise again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” your voice acting as his source of stability, even though you’re both still shaking from the chaos.

But before he can respond, there’s a loud bang against the door. A deep, guttural scraping noise as the plant’s tentacles push against it, trying to force their way inside. They both jump at the sounds, and he tries to curl in on himself, his hands gripping into his hair as he shuts everything out, nothing but his own voice echoing in his head. 

‘Of course, you’d mess this up.’

“Bob, look at me, please.”

‘She probably hates you now.’

He opens his eyes slowly, and you can see it—the fear. The gold in his eyes flickers, a silent reflection of his inner turmoil. He’s been holding it all together for so long, but now, one mistake has him spiralling, and it’s all spilling out in front of you.

He hates that you can see it. The cracks in his composure, the weight of the guilt sinking into his chest. The last thing he wanted was to fall apart in front of you, to let you see just how much he’s struggling with everything.

“I put you in danger,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze drops to the floor, shame and regret lacing his words.

You can’t let him carry this alone. You can’t let him drown in his own guilt when you know the truth: it wasn’t his fault. He only wanted to do something nice for you.

You step forward further into his space, cupping his face gently in your hands. His breath catches and you feel his warm skin under your palms, the tension in the air thick but not overwhelming.

“It’s okay,” you say softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I’m alright, aren’t I?”

‘She doesn’t mean it.’

“I try to do one thing, and I just made things worse. I ruined everything—” 

“You didn’t ruin anything, okay? I loved the fact that you got me a gift, and we’re going to get out of this.”

You pull him close, and you both embrace each other tightly, the chaos outside fading away for a brief moment as you both seek comfort in the silence of the hug.

But suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, you become acutely aware of every touch, every shift of his body against yours. The warmth of his arms, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, it all feels intensified. It’s like you’re hyper-aware of the sensation of him against you, and it’s overstimulating in a way you weren’t expecting.

You subconsciously nuzzle into his touch, breathing in his scent. He smells so good, you would even describe it as intoxicating. The feeling of him holding you, so close, feels delicious. The feeling of his fingers against your bare skin, mouth-watering.

You lean into him even more, a soft moan slipping out before you catch yourself. The sound barely escapes, but it’s enough to make you freeze. You jerk back from him, heart pounding in your chest.

From the look on his face, he didn’t hear it. Or if he did, he’s pretending not to, but you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, flooding your body. The flush spreads down your neck, over your skin, and you can’t stop it.

“We’ll…get through this,” Bob says, agreeing with your earlier words.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter out, still feeling the heat spreading throughout your body. 

Then, as if his panicked brain finally catches up to the situation, Bob’s eyes flick over your form, and his eyes widen just a little when he realises you’re topless, wearing nothing but your bra. His face flushed with embarrassment, and in an instant, he looks away, his cheeks turning a shade of red at the fact that he had just hugged you in this state. Like the gentleman he is, he immediately averts his gaze, trying to give you some privacy.

“Oh. I uh, you should take my sweater.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I–”

Both of you nervously bumble until Bob starts taking off his sweater. The entire thing plays in slow motion.  His hands, a little shaky, reach for the hem. The fabric bunches up in his fingers before he slowly pulls it over his head. 

Bit by bit, his chest and torso are revealed. You can’t help but notice the definition of his muscles and appreciate them greatly. Finally, he hands the sweater to you, his expression nervous but kind. “Here…” he says softly, not looking you directly in the eyes.

Damn it. 

He’s ripped. 

You didn’t know when you woke up this morning that you’d be treated to an impromptu striptease courtesy of Bob Reynolds. You can’t believe all of that was hiding under that knitted sweater. There’s a sudden wave of arousal so strong it almost knocks you clean off your feet. Your eyes wander his sculpted form, and it’s like every part of him was made to drive you crazy. You know you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. 

“So… how are we planning on taking back my office?” Your words come out breathy, your eyes are still very much fixed on his body, but he seems oblivious to the fact.

“Maybe we can…” He trails off, distracted by the way you were starting to sway, “Hey, are you alright?”

He had now started to become clued into the way you were staring him down like he was a full-course meal. And you’re just happy he couldn’t read your mind because you were thinking the most unhinged things, like how you wanted to lick the sweat off his abs.

“Holy fuck,” You mutter tiredly, shaking the thought away. You were a doctor, damn it, not a degenerate. Or at least not both at the same time. 

“Yeah, I’m just…” You start a sentence that you can’t finish as your body continues to heat up and your desire for him starts to hurt. You just want to be closer to him, and the overwhelming need to touch his abs comes back in full force. You try to focus on something else but just land on his arms and you wondered how’d they feel wrapped around your waist when he’d fuck you. 

“Fuck!” 

You start pacing around the room, trying to get rid of this madness that seemed to be overtaking you. And by pacing it was more of an awkward stumble as bit by bit your limbs turned to rubber and your brain to mush with horny thoughts of Bob. 

You stop moving and drop to the floor, hugging your knees and squeezing your eyes shut. Maybe if you cannot see the hot man, he cannot haunt you. You decide to take deep breaths because that always helps, and try to calm yourself down. You are, however, wearing Bob’s sweater, which smells like him and therefore smells like heaven. You moan, definitely loud enough for him to hear and bury your face in it. 

“Talk to me,” Bob says as he crouches down by your side, the comforting pats on your back feeling more like kisses on the neck. You just wanted to climb him like he’s a tree and live there forever. 

“Need to take this off.” 

You start kicking off your trousers as they start to stick to you, feeling more like sandpaper on your skin. Next, you peel off his sweater and hold it in your hands, resting it against your cheek, breathing it in every so often. 

“I can’t be near you right now.”

“Why?” He asks and if you had your head on straight, you’d state the obvious. Did he not see the fact that you were seconds away from grinding on him?

But you did have to think about what caused this, and there’s only one theory that makes sense. 

“I think the plant you got is a sex plant.”

Bob blinks at you.

“A what?” 

While falling down an internet rabbit hole, you had heard about plants like these with certain properties that lent themselves quite nicely to certain activities. These properties including sex pollen that seemed to only affect you and not him. At a later date, you’d love to run some tests to see why. Maybe it was something in the serum he was given that made him immune to certain things. But all logical thought was being dropkicked out the window right about now, replaced with the need to fuck yourself silly on his dick.

You explain to him the whole sex plant thing as best as you can without going feral. The need to have his hands all over your body was becoming near next to unbearable.

“Why do you know this?”

“God forbid a woman is informed,” You sigh as you fan yourself with the sleeve of his sweater, more of his scent wafting into your face, making you more hungry for him than ever.

“So, how do we fix this?” He asks, desperate to help you out.

“I can just wait it out,” you suggest, knowing full well you couldn’t “wait it out”.  Each second that passed was a second not spent bouncing on Bob’s cock which was a second wasted in your opinion. But this was Bob, your Bob, you didn’t want sex pollen induced horniness to reduce your friendship to rubble. You could see it now. Things would never be the same. No more book chat over morning coffee or late night milkshake runs and you’d be damned if you lost them. 

“You’re burning up.” He places his hand against your forehead, and you whimper at the contact, shocking you both.

“Tell me, what will fix this?” He repeats.

It’s clear that there’s no avoiding it, so you tell him. 

“...sex.”

There’s a heavy silence in the room, only accompanied by the background noise of the plant going on a rampage in your office. It was obvious, sex plant, therefore sex will alleviate the effects of said plant but saying it out loud didn't make it any easier. 

“But I won’t ask that of you. I won’t,” You say firmly. 

Did you want him? Yes, you wanted him bad. Ever since his floppy-haired, doe-eyed, cute self came in for his first check-up. But you didn’t want it under such dire circumstances, with a sex crazed plant trying to knock the door down. You wanted it to mean something. You wanted to know that he liked you as much as you like him.

You watch as Bob’s expression shifts, his eyes narrowing slightly as if coming to a decision. There’s something in his gaze, something vulnerable but strong at the same time, like he’s finally deciding to take a step forward.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” he says firmly. “I don’t want to see you in pain like this.”

You shake your head, the words he says sinking in, but the effects of the sex pollen make it hard to respond.

“I can’t have sex with you like this. It’s not fair on you,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, almost defeated.

Bob’s face softens, his eyes flickering with understanding and something deeper. He steps closer, his tone gentler but unwavering. “It’s worth it if it helps you. You’re hot and shivering. What kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?”

The sincerity in his words hits you hard. You feel your throat tighten, fighting back the wave of emotion threatening to spill over. You’ve always known Bob cared about you, but hearing that he was willing to do this for you was something else. 

“Bob…” Your voice breaks slightly, but you push through it.

He stops himself then, looking away for a moment, his own vulnerability creeping to the surface. "I care about you. I…" He trails off, a deep breath escaping him as if he's preparing himself for what’s to come. “I like you.”

You're struggling to find the words as the one thing you’ve been wanting to hear is finally said.

“You like me?”

Bob looks down, his eyes shifting nervously, afraid that he might be ruining everything.

“I like you too,” You admit. “You have no idea how much.”

Not wanting the moment to pass you by, you cup his face and kiss him like you’ve never kissed anyone before. The kiss is desperate and needy, your hands gliding over his body with such urgency. All that pent-up need and tension came out in this one kiss. You cling onto each other like kissing is the last thing you’ll ever do. 

You pull back, looking at him, his cheeks slightly flushed, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask, your voice a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Instead of responding, he pulls you back in, his hands gentle but insistent, bringing you closer once more. Then, before you can say anything else, he lays you back down on the floor, his body hovering over yours.

“Does that answer your question?” he whispers, before leaning back in, his lips brushing against yours once more.

You smile into the kiss and wrap your legs around his waist from beneath him. 

You shiver as his hands travel up your back, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. It’s clumsy at first, fumbling with the hooks, the fabric catching between his fingers.

“Oh yeah, this one’s a nightmare to take off,” you comment, remembering the countless times you’d try to undo the clasps before giving up and just pulling it over your head instead. You chuckle lightly at the memory, tension easing for just a second.

“I think I almost got it,” he says, determination in his voice. Finally, after a few more attempts, he gets the clasp undone, tossing it aside with a small sigh of relief.

You feel a warmth spread through you, as look up at him.

“You’re perfect,” he says softly, his lips finding their way to your neck. The way he touches you, the way his hands move, everything feels electric, like every little action is charged with more meaning than you ever expected.

His hands wander down towards your panties next, rubbing at your core through them. He can feel that you’ve already soaked through them, your desperation no laughing matter. 

He knows that because you immediately trap his hand between your thighs and start lifting your hips to rub against it.

His eyes widen as he watches you roll your hips, so completely wrecked, and you’d barely even gotten started. This was a whole new side of you that he could get used to. 

“You need to let go of my hand for me to touch you,” Bob says, and you reluctantly do, only because you know he’s gonna give you something better.

He pulls off your panties and is met with the most beautiful sight. 

“You’re so wet,” he comments spreading open your dripping pussy and flicking at your clit.

He slowly inserts his fingers and smiles at how easily they slip in. “You can take two already,” he says and almost in awe as your walls clench around him. You’re mewling and twitching with every swipe of his fingers, your wetness spilling around them. His fingers are so thick and he stretches you out so good, you wonder how your own fingers ever felt like enough. 

“So good,” You whine out, and he feels encouraged to ever stop making you feel like this. 

He curls them inside of you, brushing against your sensitive spot over and over again, making you squeal. You start to squirm, but he holds you still, his thigh and spare hand keeping you spread open for him. 

He starts reassuring you with soothing circles on your thigh, “Right there?”

You blink away the haze and nod, “Yeah, keep going.”

He repeats his actions, his fingers threatening to bring you to an orgasm so fast that you’re almost embarrassed. 

“Need you so bad,” You whisper as you thrust back against his fingers, desperate to have more of him. You’d take his whole fist if he’d give it to you. 

“I need more than just your fingers.”

He looks up at you. This was a huge step, but one you were both ready to take.

“Condom?”

“I’m on birth control,” You say, and thankfully, you were. It’s not like you had a condom on you; they were in your purse, which was in the room with the raging tentacle monster.

He pulls off his jeans and boxers and he’s left exposed in front of you. He feels vulnerable, but he knows he can trust you.

“Ready?” You ask him and he replies with a breathy, “Yeah,” before laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. 

He lines ourself up with your hole, which is actively trying to suck him in and pushes into you slowly. The relief of feeling him inside of you is so good, the sound of his moans as he bottoms out inside of you is just as good. 

He starts thrusting into you deeply, as you grip his shoulders. It felt better than anything you’ve ever done with anyone else. It was partly the sex pollen, but more than anything, it was because it was him. You were finally with him after months upon months of pining. Finally able to feel his skin beneath your fingertips, to hear his moans vibrate against your skin, to lean his forehead against yours as he ruts into you. It was slow but passionate, as you finally confirmed how you both feel about each other. 

You feel like you were on another planet, but you wanted to experience every part of this man, so you whisper in his ear, “Wanna ride you.”

You’ve never seen him move so fast, in seconds you’re sitting up right, warming his cock as his lips attacking your neck.

You’re about to start moving when he stops you. 

“Just a second.”

You sit there, desperate to feel him moving inside you, but if he says to wait, then you’ll wait. He cups one of your boobs in his hands and his tongue flicking around your areola just enough to tease you.

“Bob…” You whine out, and he smiles up at you, and it’s one of his dopey smiles that makes your heart melt. Then as if you couldn’t feel any more sensitive, he starts sucking on your nipple, his eyes closed in pure focus and concentration. You fully scream, your legs quivering and walls fluttering around his cock. His tongue was working overtime, and you felt like you could come undone with just this. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” You cry out as you pull closer by his hair.

“You’re so dramatic,” He laughs before going back to his ministrations, determined to make you lose your mind. 

“Just like that,” You cry out as you wrap your arms around his neck. You shake and tremble so much that you just have to start riding him. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own.

Bob rests his head in the crook of your neck as you work his cock up and down btweeen your folds.  “You feel so good.” His voice is shaky and needy as he’s unable to do anything but give in to the pleasure you’re giving him. His legs were shaking with how good it felt, and it was an ego boost to say one thing. 

“Wait a second,” he says before he holds your hips up and starts thrusting up into you from below, giving you everything he’s got. 

“Oh Bob…”

The feeling is so overwhelming that you start to cry, tears flowing down your cheeks, each one showing just how good he was giving it to you. But seeing your tears, he stops immediately, wiping them from your eyes. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

His eyebrows are furrowed with a concern plastered on his face, worried that he had hurt you.

You shake your head profusely, “Keep going. I’m crying because it feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

With some renewed confidence, he continues thrusting into you, and it’s your turn to rest your head against his neck.

He whispers against your ear, “You feel so good.”

“Wanna turn around for me?”

“O-okay,” You stutter out, your mind half in the clouds as he spins you around and you land back on his dick, reverse cowgirl.

“Holy shit,” he says as he starts pounding into you again. You feel him so deep inside of you, you never want him to leave. 

You feel him gripping onto your ass so you imagine the view must be good. 

“Harder?”

“Yes, fuck please,” You reply immediately. The way he was thrusting up inside of you had you crying out for mercy, and if he wanted to go harder, you’d let him. He picks up the pace, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours is music to your ears. 

“So good, you’re such…” He stops for a moment, and you can hear him hesitate, but you suppose his internal thoughts won out as he finishes his sentence, “Such a good girl.”

And you’d be lying if those words, escaping his lips, in his voice, didn’t make you want to explode.

Then he slows down before pulling out of you, you’re about to whine and complain, but he intercepts that. 

“Can you hold onto me?” He asks, and you do it immediately, desperate to feel him on you again. You suddenly feel yourself being lifted into the air, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He effortlessly lifts you over and lays you down on an examination table.

He lines himself up with your whole again and thrusts right into it, not holding back one bit. Your body is shaking and trembling with each thrust, and you’re screaming his name with each one.

“So good, so good,” he repeats like a mantra, like he can’t think of anything else but you.

He lifts your hips, tilting your pelvis and hitting your G-spot dead on, and you almost choke on your spit.  You’re not even sure what comes out of your mouth; you just know it’s not of this world. You head lolls to the side as you drool for his cock to be fed deeper into you. 

“Right there, right there, right…”, You bluster out before being cut off by your own scream. 

You weren’t going to last much longer; in fact, you’re surprised you lasted this long. You just needed one final thing to put you over the edge. 

“B-bob. Put…put your hand here,” You say guiding his hand above your stomach and bite your lip as he presses down feeling his cock inside of you.

“I’m gonna—” You sob before you’re cumming harder than you ever have, calling out for Bob all the while. Bob holds onto your bucking hips as he watches you squirt on his cock. The orgasm that hits you is blinding, your toes curl, your fists tighten, and tears fall from your eyes. 

You are gone. 

You’re only brought back to your senses by Bob saying your name and soft kisses on your face. When he sees you’re responsive, he smiles and starts brushing your hair off your face. But then you realise, he’s stopped moving and you absolutely can’t have that. You can still feel him pulsing inside of you and you needed him to cum.

“Keep going,” you mumble.

“Hm?”

You sit up closer to you, your fingers gripping his back. 

“Keep going until you’re done with me.”

You needed this, you needed him. You wanted him to fuck you so hard that your pussy remembered him, you wanted him to fill you up so much that just the smell of him would bring you to your knees and that wasn’t just the sex pollen talking. 

“I think I can do this day,” Bob says and that he does. He fucks you against the wall, the window, on the floor, if he had control of his Sentry powers he probably would’ve fucked you in the air too. By the time you’re done, the sex pollen has been well and truly pounded out of your system. 

But your troubles aren’t over. 

The plant knocks down the door with an ominous thud. Menacingly slithering over to the two of you, now triple in size, each tentacle blogger that the last, and you’re ready to accept your fate. This is how you would go out. Fucked to death by a plant.

The plant starts prodding at you both a tiny bit before pulling back away from you, much to your surprise. Obviously sensing its job was done, it reverts back to its original form in a matter of seconds and sits innocently in its pot. 

You guess your troubles are over. 

“So…can I be your boyfriend?” He asks and you laugh, “What do you think?”

Bob’s face lights up with a grin, and he kisses your cheek, “I think there’s a mess waiting for us in your office.”

“Well, couples that clean together stay together.”

Snuggling into his embrace, you let out a sigh of contentment. Nothing could ruin this day, not when you’d finally made Bob your man.

But, in the distance, you hear the shuffling of footsteps as the team has arrived back from their mission. You hear a faint, “What the fuck?” seemingly from Walker seeing the havoc the plant made but you’re too content in Bob’s arms to care. You’re exactly where you want to be.

Masterlist

[munv]

Cld i also request for diasomnia + ignihyde w raiden ei! like reader really love ur character! reader fics AKAJSJSHDH sorry if its too much </3

DIASOMNIA / IGNIHYDE X RAIDEN EI !READER

No because thank you SO much for requesting this. My inconsistency was coming back and I literally needed something that would make me work

MALLEUS

He notices you immediately. It's in the "thunder literally crackles around me too so I noticed yours from like 20 miles away" type of thing. Ancient fellow meets ancient fellow and it's one of those times where conversation isnt necessary. He realizes that you might also not be human after a while and he questions you about it.

He's a little scared that you might not take a liking to him anymore since he doesn't want to come off as brazen, yet he cant help but be curious.

Only to find out that you're a god of you're own country? He stares for a moment, slowly processing it and goes "is that so?". Not in the "I don't believe you and you're crazy way". It's in the "we now have a lot more in common" type of way.

He indulges in your oddly specific sweet tooth, bringing you little snacks and stuff to try together since you both have no idea what normal people eat.

LILIA

He laughs. In your face. First meeting.

Lilia is a good 700+ years old. So when he was face to face with someone who has been one for over 3000? He questioned for a moment if he would become that stoic (miserable) by the time he finishes 1000.

He pokes around your exterior, trying to see if he could possibly rile up a storm out of you. You dont strike him, so he takes that as a go ahead to keep it up. He teases you endlessly, noticing how you are exactly like malleus and way behind on trends and such. Although he isnt as shut in as the both of you, he is somewhat well versed in the latest things.

He doesn't find himself surprised when he gets you a phone and it ends up sparking up because you couldnt control your quiet excitement when you got it.

SILVER

He treats you gently, and he finds himself careful to not overstep any boundaries you have placed around yourself. Not because he finds himself scared, but because he genuinely respects you. He nods when you speak a few words, he opens doors for you, braids your hair under trees.

You're surprised when a bunch of animals follow him around, especially when he actually does a good job in braiding your hair. The flower additions into it? You love that too.

SEBEK

If you thought that silver was your no.1 admirer? you got another thing coming. Sebek basically explodes. Because at first? he sees you as a rival to Malleus, but over time? he grows to respect you if not, just as much. He begs you to train him and share your ever so "godly discipline". He constantly screams and yells about your noble aura and your gentle heart.

You've never met someone who could be so loud, yet loyal at the same time. Still, you give in and hand him a sword and just tell him "strike"

It's like that meme where its the avatar's saying "I can't help you bro, you jus gotta feel it". He never gives up though, and continues even if hes failing your training regimen, you've began to respect that about him, despite his outlandish tendencies to basically preach your praises on campus.

IDIA

He has a total meltdown. He hides, he panics, he screeches. "THATS A LEVEL10000 BOSS?? BRO WHY ARE THEY HERE?". Whenever he texts you, he realizes that you're one of those people who just give simple responses. "Yes." "No." "Thank you." “Why are you like this”

Idia thrives online but when he actually has to meet you face to face? he's a little nervous. Scratch a little— He basically screams bloody mary when you slightly lift your hand. Yet, he still enjoys your company. Despite him referencing you to his many different video game bosses and being chronically online with his odd slang? He finds comfort in your humble yet demanding ways.

"you're highkey scary but..lowkey chill?" You blink at him. "yes?"

He turns you inner realm into a video game setting.

ORTHO

Ortho finds himself doing extensive research on you. Your powers, your limitations, where you're from, If it's possible for you to overblot, all of the above.

He cheers and zooms around you in excitement whenever he sees you. Maybe he's just attracted to the lightning you emit, who knows. He likes hugging you and such.

If he wants more research? he goes to you, hands over some dango, and starts scanning you for 6 hours straight. Idia wonders how its possible for you to stay still for that long.

It comes with the meditation you do in your inner realm ever so often, you explain, and ortho is just scanning you casually without a care in the world.

He really likes the little zaps that you give him, he finds it ticklish, and he cute little giggles fuel you even more. “That tickled, again!” You blink, sigh, and zap him again, listening to him squeal in glee.

“Again!”

You smile at his childlike wonder

[wendeeesaucy]

Prob people have talked about this before but I really like analyzing the little micro expressions and lines from Astarion. Specifically I wanted to talk about the line he has when he tries different lines to flirt with tav/durge.

So I got that scene during the tiefling party after already spending the night with him before. I'm guessing you can get that scene after the party if you're approval wasn't high enough to have been with him already but I'm going with my playthrough.

Personally, I like the flow of it better. Tav/durge has already established a sort of companions (barely friends) with benefits sort of situation with him and having this sort of banter seems to fit well. I think it's also one of those few early moments tav/durge is hinting that they know that he's one for manipulating and embellishing words in their relationship (like in an earlier scene where you could figure out that his smile is too perfect and that you shouldn't believe a word he says).

It's awareness, it's playfulness. Because tav/durge is explaining that they are in on this facade but still stringing themselves along, almost as if they're agreeing with this being an odd relationship of trysts and dalliances in an otherwise perilous adventure that they all have no idea if they'll make it out from.

That's how this flirty, teasing back and forth starts. You can keep up the 'yeah, haha, try harder because I'm not falling for it' options and that only motivates him to throw more ridiculously flowery lines.

Though ironically the one about 'it's as if the gods made you just to ruin me' is pretty accurate because tav/durge essentially ruins him/his plans especially for a spawn Astarion ending. But that's not the one I'm most interested in every time I watch this scene. It's the 'I love you' one.

Now, we are going with the idea that this banter since the beginning was all in good fun. Tav/durge knows what this is leading to, this is just banter to go along with the eventual yes that will surely follow to spend another night with him. While the first few flirting lines starting from 'here's my little treat' were a build up from the next, the last one seems oddly misplaced and a curve ball to me. We go from physical aspects to suddenly jumping to a less tangible and deeper way of expressing interest, love.

It doesn't help that we get this face to go along with it, which already is vastly different to the smirks and smug expressions we got seconds before.

Sure, you could argue that this was his way of throwing tav/durge off so they could stop being smug themselves at finding his flirty words ridiculous because he goes right back to being normal afterwards. But the thing about Astarion is that sometimes a lot of times he's bad at hiding his emotions. He lets words slip without thinking or a micro expression happens for just a split second but it's noticeably there especially on a second or third playthrough.

So to me, when I see this expression, I personally think this is a genuine face and a somewhat genuine answer.

Now you'd think I'm just falling for his manipulations but the reason I can't seem to shake that thought is because in his act 2 scene where he says 'no matter how much I'd like to' when he talks about how difficult it is being with someone and essentially caring about them deeply, we get this same expression.

It's literally the same expression, the same vulnerability except now we have more honesty and context to what it means. Tav/durge by now has learned to read him better and understand when he's being truthful. And not even just his face, his voice going softer in both scenes too!

So when we go back to that flirting lines scene, it really feels out of place and for good reason. I've heard people say it's him testing the waters and I personally think so too! He's gotten tav/durge in this place of teasing 'haha, all in good fun' mood and uses that to his advantage to throw them off by seeing how they'd react to him of all people saying I love you suddenly to them. Would they be disgusted? Tell him, yeah in his dreams? Or would they be shocked, because it sounded too good to be true? That they would like it to be true too?

It might also be his way of just blurting out a thought he's had for some time, especially if you've already spend the night with him before the party and gotten to know him a little better. By then, he's already seen tav/durge help him a few times and successfully done something as the party leader, making him question just who this person is to him. After all, he's had no choice but to acknowledge this person's existence because they are not another target that's bound to disappear like the others he's bedded before.

So when looking further into the scene, he's not only testing tav/durge on their reactions but also himself and how he personally feels about that statement. He probably wants to see how it sounds in reality, not as some random thought to be forgotten. And maybe, just maybe he could see himself believing that to be true.

He might not be in love with tav/durge to the degree that he does in act 2 but I'd argue he was def falling by then if he felt throwing that line into the open was necessary.

And when you end it off with the 'having fun, are you?' line and get him to say 'I am. It's hard not to with you' it really feels like you're getting a tiny bit closer to wedging yourself into his heart.

[forsaken-headcanons]

SOME HEADCANONS :33

1. Noob was female before becoming Genderfluid,, yesyes I Headcanon that Party Noob is them before they came out.

2. They came out to their parents right before becoming forsaken, the coming out didnt go so well so they ended up running away. The parents eventually accepted Noob's identity, making a “missing” poster for them and using their correct pronoun. The parents regret not accepting them sooner. ( Noob genuinely thought their parents hadn't accepted them during their time in forsaken, before seeing that missing poster in the lobby / cabin. )

3. Elliot was one of the first people to arrive at the cabin, 007n7 was second, Twotime was third, Noob was the fourth!!, Chance was the fifth, Guest 1337 was Sixth, Shedletsky and Builderman was Seventh and eighth, TAPH was the ninth, and duskesar was the final one!!

4. The Npcs are canon in the lobby, but!! The surviours don't think much of them since they don't talk much. Robloxians and Npcs are different from each other. ( Robloxians Were built different, you see.. )

5. Mafiso's group are actually a group of survivors too and are jst, beefing with the other group since chance was one of them. ( Pre-forsaken. )

The Spectre has the groups separated from each other and live from across each other. ( yk how if you walk outside of the uhh.. cabin inside the lobby and go to the docks?, you can see an island in the distance. I hc that that's where Mafiso's group live at. They CAN cross over to where Our group is but it's rlly far so they don't really bother going over. )

The only times they cross over to our group, it's when Mafiso is REALLY pissed off ( normally after rounds. ) or if their planning on stealing from our group.

The spectre makes them have rounds with each other. ( Mostly rare, this is actually how the groups found out about each other's existence. )

Mafiso has Personal connection with the Spectre ( 😱😱😱 ) and so, bc of that, Mafiso sometimes talks to our group's killers.

6. Elliot also has personal correction with the Spectre...

7. Elliot greets everyone when they first arrived. ( Exception to 007n7 as they were both teleported together and Elliot having a disliking to him. )

8. Elliot actually helped Noob alittle with their transition!! ( Ex: cutting their hair and giving them clothes. )

9. Noob got forsakened on their birthday.

10. Jane Doe and John Doe were Npcs!!, both soon became sentient, because of this, They were turned to surviours.

11. John had a bug in his system which was his arm being all glitchy and stuff, John wanted to cut his arm off to prevent it from corrupting him with a sword but Noob stopped him which eventually became John doe's demise.

12. Noob thinks it's their fault and feel horrible for it, if they hadn't stopped John doe, maybe things would've turned out okay. ( Which kinda is, kinda isn't. John was bound to be corrupted regardless. )

13. The last Guest is actually a movie in the forsaken universe.

14. Noob And Guest 666 used to have plushies of each other. ( Noob still has the plush. )

15. The spectre does have a physical form.

16. Telamon exists !! 😋😋, he's more treated like a Old myth/legend but he did actually existed!!

17. Noob talks in slang sometimes.

18. When everyone arrived in the first round, they weren't sure how their abilities worked and wasn't really sure of what was going on. Noob was the first to die in that round. ( Everyone thought they were gonna die for real, obv. )

19. Surviours respawn but it used to take weeks or days to. Twotime is Mostly the one to respawn immediately. ( The first time they had, they almost went insane though to them thinking all the other survivors were just hallucinations as the others took a long time to respawn. ) however, As the rounds proceeded on, the respawning took alot faster.

20. Noob thinks Jane Doe dislikes them though to the whole John doe situation, often avoiding her or apologizing to her.. ALOT.

what's this..? headcanons for.. for our goat Noob?? is this heaven /silly

NOOO NOOB!! honey no it's okay you didn't know :((

dude imagine how crappy they'll feel when guest 666 gets added as a killer... like. what was once a comforting face sown to the only fragment left of the past now brings more than just tears streaming down their face. no, it too now brings fear, and they can't help but leave it to collect dust, abandoned in the same way their hope for the future had been. guhguihaikuwljdhja can you tell we like noob /silly

[ducksido]

Azul’s Birthday Celebration

Azul Ashengrotto, the cunning and ambitious Housewarden of Octavinelle, was no stranger to luxury. His lavish tastes and strategic mind often made him the center of attention, but when it came to his own birthday, he was less inclined to make a spectacle of the occasion. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the finer things in life; it was simply that Azul was more comfortable behind the scenes, orchestrating things rather than being the star of the show.

But this year, you had decided to change that.

You’d spent weeks secretly preparing for Azul’s birthday, knowing that you couldn’t just settle for something simple. The extravagant, yet personal gift you had in mind had taken time to assemble—Azul appreciated things that were well-thought-out and meaningful, not just a show of wealth or status.

The night of his birthday, you had transformed a corner of the lounge in the most understated but elegant way. There were candles scattered about, casting a warm, golden glow, and a table set with his favorite dishes—fried chicken, fine wines, and a cake that resembled a miniature model of the Mostro Lounge itself. You even brought in a few of his favorite board games, and subtly placed them beside the table—just enough to catch his eye.

Azul walked in, his usual confident posture slightly more relaxed than usual. The instant he stepped through the door, he took in the room with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.

“Yuu…?” he began, his voice sounding softer than usual. “What is all of this?”

You smiled and stepped forward, gesturing to the table. “A celebration, just for you. Happy birthday, Azul.”

Azul blinked, his normally composed demeanor faltering for a split second. “For me?” he said, voice almost in disbelief. “But I—”

“I know you’re not one for big celebrations,” you interrupted, your voice light and teasing. “But I wanted to make sure this birthday was special.”

He walked toward the table, slowly, as if unsure whether to believe what he was seeing. When his gaze landed on the cake, his eyes sparkled, and he let out a soft chuckle. “A cake in the shape of the Mostro Lounge? Truly, Yuu, you outdo yourself every time.”

You blushed slightly, feeling a sense of accomplishment at his reaction. “I thought it would be fitting. Since the Mostro Lounge is practically your second home.”

Azul turned to face you, a rare look of gratitude replacing his usual scheming smile. “I don’t know what to say. This is… more than I expected.”

You could see the softening of his features as he reached out to take the gift you had hidden in plain sight—a set of customized pens made from a special kind of shell. It was something personal, something that spoke to his love of writing contracts and making deals. You knew it wasn’t just a gift; it was a token of understanding the intricacies of his mind.

“You’re welcome,” you replied quietly, watching him run his fingers over the pens with a small but genuine smile.

“You’ve truly outdone yourself,” Azul said, his voice tinged with sincerity. He glanced up at you, his expression full of rare vulnerability. “This means more to me than you know, Yuu. It’s hard for someone like me to accept such kindness.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” you said, stepping closer. “I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me, too.”

The words seemed to settle between the two of you, and for a moment, the ever-calculating Azul Ashengrotto simply stood still, taking it all in. Finally, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile—and pulled you into a hug, something you hadn’t quite expected but welcomed all the same.

“Thank you, Yuu,” he whispered. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

As the night continued, the two of you shared a quiet meal together, talking about everything and nothing. The warm glow of the candles flickered softly, reflecting the genuine connection between you and the normally reserved Azul. In the midst of all his ambitions and schemes, you knew that, in this moment, you had given him something far more valuable than any contract or business deal—peace, warmth, and a sense of belonging.

And as the evening came to a close, Azul stood at the door, looking at you one last time.

“You’ve made this birthday unforgettable, Yuu,” he said with a soft smile. “I’ll never forget it.”

[i-willstealyourtoes]

hcs for spy, scout, n demo with a gn!reader who seems really harmless, silly, just a goober until blurting out something super unhinged/violent but then just like, keeps insistently acting friendly again (intentionally covering up capacity for actual competence by being cute??)

other details can be whatever you want, went with the mercs i thought would be more interesting with this prompt, hope things are fun for u!!!

Ooo yeah this does seem rlly fun!! I hope I did this one justice :) I decided to make it so Reader is some sort of co-worker (but not a merc), and the violent ideas aren't just for jokes >:)

Spy, Scout + Demo with Cute!Violent!Reader

Spy

At first, he didn't really like you that much when he saw how 'silly' you were

Why would he need any more idiots in his life?

But after a little while, he got used to your light-hearted fun, not necessarily hating you, but not really interacting with you either...

That was, until you started saying things.

Like casual promises of intense violence, followed with something of your usual gleeful attitude

Genuinely concerned for you. Are you??? Okay???

He's not sure if you're trying to prank him, if this is some sort of thing Scout set you up to do or you're just insane. He doesn't like any of those options.

But when he notices that the things you say aren't just weird jokes, he actually becomes a bit interested

Is this how you really are? Some kind of blood-thirsty person that hides behind a mask of smiles?

He starts to wonder if you actually act on these gruesome thoughts

So he decides to subtly test things out, intentionally ruining your day from the sidelines, to see if you'll snap

And eventually, you do, throwing a knife at Scout as he shrieks and runs away after having making fun of you one too many times

After that, he actually kind of likes you, especially since you are more capable of things than he initially thought

He might not be your friend, but he doesn't mind talking to you now, and he finds it amusing when people get shocked/scared when you say something bloody

Scout

Scout initially just thinks you're some cute co-worker he can flirt with

But when you start spouting a violent and unhinged suggestion of getting info out of a man, he freezes in partial amounts of disgust and horror (you know that one face he makes when he sees Zhanna and Soldier naked? Yeah.)

For at least a couple days, he's pretty spooked.

Are you always like this? Did you say it to prank him? Was this just a one time thing?

He might not talk to you for a little bit. He won't ignore you, but you can tell he's a little awkward around you from then on

There's a few ways to get him to be normal again.

Either he watches someone else get spooked and finds it funny, or you help him out with something because of your violent nature

Regardless of which one, he quickly realises that your bloodthirsty attitude is just as you as your cute one

It might still throw him off though, but he won't say much other than a "Dayum, chill (Y/n)!"

Other than that, he actually kind of finds it funny watching other strangers get scared if you say something/threaten them

It's free entertainment !!

He is just a little scared of you though... He definitely would not want to get on your bad side.

Demo

Takes a liking to your silly personality, and the two of you quickly become good friends !!

As for your sudden, random violent sayings?

It depends, really.

Either one: he does a double take and stares at you with furrowed brows and widened eyes

Or two: he doesn't react at all and just accepts it immediately

Even if it's the former, at most you get a simple ".....what?" before he eventually recovers and lets the situation go

Regardless, he actually really appreciates your capacity for violence, it means he doesn't feel pressure to steer from gruesome discussion

Originally, he wouldn't have talked to you about how he blew up a guy to pieces, but now he's happy to share all the disgusting details

Especially since you either find it amusing or have some story yourself

In fact, he might even take you to see his work, if you're down for it :)

Imagine: the two of you sitting on some seats watching as some poor unsuspecting opposite team member walks on a sticky and... you know the rest.

You two become a really good pair, not despite the occasional violent behaviors you possess, but because of them !!

The others might think you're a bit creepy, or even be a little scared of how you can switch between the two personalities, but Demo doesn't mind at all !

[vanillahealer]

dear followers, this is NOT an agere post

it's a CRK post, so... if you dont want that, dont worry about it! /gen

beast yeast ep 9 spoilers!! also it has angst also this is a VERY LONG post. specifically, below the cut is 3,834 words and 21,377 characters.

cw/tw: cognitive and emotional dissonance, emotional abuse (from a leader and/or mother figure), brainwashing?, cult, the word "pill" and a large part of this revolves around a metaphorical/emotional illness/disease

So I have a lot of thoughts about this episode. Things that I haven't seen talked about yet so I wanted to bring it up for the more-into-crk-lore-than-I-am-people if they see this.

Most people have mentioned or are aware of the things going on with Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, and Eternal Sugar Cookie. I think most believe that Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie are and have been being abused by Eternal Sugar Cookie in some way. Some may even think Eternal Sugar Cookie is a cult leader. I've heard that suggestion be tossed around. Some may view her as an abusive mother figure. And all of that, in this post, will be posited. This is the basis of this post.

First, I'd like to point out something that I noticed quite early on in this episode, after everyone got to the Garden. The Sugar Angels—the ones who help heal the other Cookies—didn't seem to ever hate their job. I'm in a line of thinking that Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, and the Sugar Angels are different types of Cookies. I have no idea if there's any evidence to this, but I just sort of get that vibe. Which could mean a bunch of things. We could be seeing a type of hierarchy. The Sugar Angels are the most common type of Cookie there. They could be the main population, for lack of a better term. Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie seem to be more-directly-under Eternal Sugar Cookie's commands and orders. Which is... "weird," in a sense—At least, it seems weird. Raspberry Cookie's line of (paraphrased), "Wow, a Cookie from House Raspberry would never shirk off their duty to another Cookie!" comes to mind for Pavlova Cookie. If Pavlova Cookie is as close (in terms of order of command) to Eternal Sugar Cookie, why would he act childishly? Why does he not like his duty? Why isn't he more loyal, like Sugarfly Cookie?

I think it's complicated. I think he actually does like his job. His job is to give Happiness to all, and by proxy, lead everyone to the Garden. And with all that he talks about Love—and his fascination on Love—and it really seems genuine. He DOES want to help all Cookies. He does want to spread Love and Happiness to all. Who wouldn't? I mean, he's been told all his life that Love and Happiness is good. But something's interesting. "Pain and sorrow are not allowed in the Garden." This leads us to, again, multiple things... One, Pavlova Cookie likes pain and sorrow too. The first time we meet him, he talks about a love tragedy. And how that love tragedy is apparently deliciously interesting. It seems that a "normal" Cookie of the Garden (idk what else to call them,) would be crying and deeply hurt about a love tragedy. If Pavlova Cookie shared this news to everyone else, he would be the bringer of bad news. He would make everyone in that Garden sad. But then again, sadness is unacceptable. Pavlova Cookie, being (assumingly) one of—or the only—Cookie of the Garden who can go to the Outside World, is the only Cookie of the Garden who actually sees pain and sorrow. He resonates with it. He understands it—and he loves it because this is the only place where he is also understood. It's very unnatural—and rather impossible—for someone to be happy all the time. Even Eternal Sugar Cookie expresses more emotions than just happiness and bliss in her own Garden. But anything other than Happiness is bad. Any other emotion is bad. Is horrible. Is needed to be snuffed out like a candle's flame. In the Garden, you are not allowed to feel anything other than this one thing. But what causes Happiness? In the game, Eternal Sugar Cookie literally says that Happiness is going after what you want. And that doesn't sound bad at all.

...Except it is. And it is to her, as well. Why else would she get upset at Pavlova Cookie? When he wants Hollyberry and everyone else to stay, he is doing what he wants. In fact, he's doing his job. He fully believes that this is apart of his duty as a member of the Cookies of the Garden. He believes this is what Eternal Sugar Cookie wants of him. And he's right. He is to bring Happiness to all Cookies, which means they are to stay in Eternal Sugar Cookie's Garden. This is what she wants. However, despite doing exactly that, Pavlova Cookie gets scolded by Eternal Sugar Cookie. He is told that this is now wrong. Yet another thing is wrong——exactly what Eternal Sugar Cookie wants is wrong. Now, there was no reason for Eternal Sugar Cookie to get upset at him like how she did. I feel like diffusing the situation would've been nice, unless she did and I just don't remember. Anyway, he objectively did nothing wrong as per her orders. But she fixated her eyes on him, filled with cold, piercing daggers. She told him that she would re-educate him. She does not understand him, and he does not understand her, in a sense. ...Or we can say it's one or the other, simultaneously. She does understand him, and he doesn't. This can be the case because she knows he wants to help, but he doesn't know her plan. Simple as that. Now let's say she doesn't understand him, but he understands her. He knows what she wants. Obviously, for he's acting all of this out and he's doing what he thinks is best. She thinks he is "going against her" by doing this. He is in the way of her plans. Both of these are true. ...They both know that she is leading the Cookies straight to danger. They both know that "pain and sorrow is bad for all Cookies." (Pavlova Cookie can still not know about the plan here. Any Cookie going out of the Garden is bad enough——he knows that himself. Just an added layer onto this.) But somehow, "pain and sorrow" is being allowed by Eternal Sugar Cookie. ...The outsider cookies are free to feel pain. They are free to express how hurt they are. They are free to tell her, "I'm not feeling okay." They are allowed to leave the Garden, get hurt, and come back and be treated with kindness and healings and benevolence. Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, the Sugar Angels, and other Cookies/Desserts of the Garden do NOT have this freedom. To add onto this, the outsider Cookies—Hollyberry, Wildberry, and Raspberry Cookie—judge him too. They judge Pavlova Cookie. Hollyberry Cookie tells Eternal Sugar Cookie that he seems to only prioritize what he wants. (I hear Pavlova Cookie argue, "This is Happiness. This is Eternal Sugar Cookie's blessing! And in doing this, I am helping other Cookies get Happiness too!!") Wildberry Cookie and Raspberry Cookie mock him, telling him he shouldn't pawn off his duties to another. ("Stop it! No one understands! My mother figure tells me I'm wrong when I'm doing exactly what she wants! You outsider Cookies don't understand me either! The only one who understands is Sugarfly Cookie!" I hear Pavlova Cookie vent out his frustrations.) Sugarfly Cookie seems like a sibling to him. They are happy to take the jobs for Pavlova Cookie. They understand how emotionally hurt he is, for his job is to go to the Outside World and view how much pain and sadness is in it, only to be constantly denied his own pain and sadness. He is in the world where this should not happen. He is meeting the Cookies that can help him. He sees where they live, he knows the creatures of the land. He knows pain and sadness exist here, freely, without constraint. If there is one place where he could be understood, it is here.

And he isn't. And even so, he has a job to do. He is to spread Happiness to others. The Happiness that he doesn't fully know. The Happiness that confuses him. The one that he doesn't know if it's bad or good. He doesn't know why he feels sadness. Why he feels hurt. This is the place where pain and sadness does not exist. The Garden is where all Cookies are cared for. He should not feel this way. He, while feeling these emotions, is betraying Eternal Sugar Cookie herself. He can't admit it to others, let alone admit it to himself. But he still likes giving Happiness to outsider Cookies. Because who doesn't want to be happy? Happiness will be good. Forever. It is impossible for Happiness to be a bad thing. Happiness is good. Happiness is right. It is the way of the Garden, and it is the way of his mother figure. Its importance has been passed down and spread all across the Garden. He would be a fool to say Happiness is bad. Everyone would laugh. Maybe even Sugarfly Cookie. Sugarfly Cookie does not know the Outside World. It's debatable if they once knew it. But as of now, they do not. If they did, it's been far too long for it to mean anything to them anyway. Because they are Happy now. They are in the Garden of Delights, where nothing can hurt them. What Eternal Sugar Cookie does is not hurtful. It is not painful. Her actions cause no pain. Pavlova Cookie complains only because he visits the Outside World, where pain and sorrow reign and reside. He is affected by the outside influences. It is natural that he needs to come back to the Garden and rejuvenate himself.

("But he tells me he experiences Happiness there, too. He says pain and sorrow give him Happiness. He tells me that love tragedies are wonderful. That broken hearts cause his heart to fill," I hear Sugarfly Cookie try to reason with their confused thoughts. "He is sick. He needs help more than anyone. But he tells me—and I understand—why he cannot tell the Sugar Angels. Word will get to Mother. And Pavlova Cookie has tried so hard to keep all of this away from her for so long. However... I still don't know what it is that causes him this odd Happiness. I want to see it for myself. I want to understand him.") And they tell Pavlova Cookie they want to go with him one day. They trust him. They want to help him. They want to understand him. And so they go. They see it with their own eyes what grants Pavlova Cookie this odd Happiness. ...And this could go in so many different directions. The only thing we know for sure (at least this is assumed for this post,) is that Eternal Sugar Cookie found out. However... I think it to be like this. Sugarfly Cookie is terrified. Upon knowing the truth, Pavlova Cookie's situation is more dire than they expected. Crying creatures are granting him inner peace. Tears. Anger. Fits of frustration between lovers. Heartbreak. Violence. Emotions that are not allowed in the Garden is causing Pavlova Cookie "Happiness." This odd Happiness that he calls "Understanding." ("He tells me that he wants to do this. He wants to look like them. He wants to... cry. They are in pain. Their hearts are hurting. Pavlova Cookie... wants pain?" Sugarfly Cookie questions. "He is sick—He is very, very ill. I must tell Mother. I must tell her so she can heal him.") They tell Eternal Sugar Cookie about what transpired. Sugarfly Cookie is mortified of the Outside World. Eternal Sugar Cookie sees how hurt Sugarfly Cookie is—and promises to them that they will never again have to visit that place. They will be safe in the Garden. Forever. The new armor is wonderful. It's a bit heavy—Sugarfly Cookie can't exactly fly correctly, or fly at all. At most, they can hover, but that is alright. Being closer to the Garden is better. Having direct contact with the sweet clouds will surely help. No wonder it takes so long for Pavlova Cookie to heal. He can fly. But Mother did not give him new armor. In fact, she did not change anything about him at all, it seems. At best, she talked to him, and that was all. She told everyone she taught him a new lesson.

("But still, Pavlova Cookie is hurt. He still goes to the Outside World. But he has to. It is his job.... I feel bad for him. He is the only one who can go into the Outside World. He is the only one who can escort the outside Cookies to the Garden. He must witness the pain and sorrow from that world, and must go directly to Mother so she can help him. The Other World is cruel. But it must be this way. Pavlova Cookie is suffering. He mistook his Happiness. He wanted to cry not because he felt understood. He wants to cry because he is a Cookie of the Garden. And we are not to look upon or feel pain. And yet he does. He is the only one who does... While thinking about Pavlova Cookie, something happens to my heart. Something blooms within it. It is not Mother's Happiness. It feels like it droops lower than my wings with this new armor. This.... This is from the Outside World. This... is the disease that Pavlova Cookie is ill with. I contracted it, too, when I went to that sickly place. It... hurts. But in due time, because I am forever in the Garden, I will heal. Pavlova Cookie still has jobs to do. I will happily do anything he asks me to—I must help alleviate his pain. ...Oh, Mother has the same look upon her face when she taught him the new lesson. Pavlova Cookie will get too close to the Outside World—That is why he does not want to lead the outside Cookies back to their world. He does not want to get more sick. I understand. I will escort them for him while Mother reeducates him.")

...

"Pavlova Cookie? Come closer to me," says Eternal Sugar Cookie. "...Yes? You called for me?" responds Pavlova Cookie... ...with fear in his voice. He knows that he was wrong. Pain and sadness can be felt by Outsider Cookies. Of course they can. It originates from their world, of course. ("I hope 'Mother' will heal me this time. I hope it's not just telling me things I already know. That her plans are absolute, that her plans are very planned out. That she knows what she is doing. All I want is for 'Mother' to heal me like Sugarfly Cookie believes. But not like the sculptures... And don't restrict my flight.... And don't ban me from ever visiting the Outside World... No. No, that is impossible. I am useful. I am the only one who has this job. I am useful. I must be kept in this job. I must be doing well. Mother will pardon one mistake. She will keep me in this role. She will. She has to. It is..... healing me. It makes my heart full. Surely, she knows that. She understands me. ...

I keep thinking about Sugarfly Cookie and I's exchange before those outsider Cookies left. I asked if they remembered the pain that cannot be healed... They did, they do remember it. Because we both have it. We both have the disease that came from the Outside World. But... that's what Mother says. To me, I think it's not a disease at all. It helps... It... helps. And no one understands. No one but Sugarfly Cookie, and even they are on the fence about it...") There's a crazy amount of dissonance here. Of ambivalence. I hope you guys are getting what I'm putting down. It's sort of hard to explain to be honest. ...I want to talk about this.

[Image ID: A screenshot of Pavlova Cookie's dialogue from Cookie Run Kingdom. There are two sides of the image, left and right. Left side says the word "Victory." Right side says three quotes. In order, the first is: "Love always wins!" The second is: "Ahh, the power of love!" and the final one is "With love, Pavlova Cookie!" End image ID.]

I want to talk about that last one. "With love, Pavlova Cookie!" Who says their own name? Why would you do that? It's because he's quoting someone else. "With love, Pavlova Cookie!..." said Eternal Sugar Cookie, during one of the "reeducating sessions." It's like she's telling him, reinforcing into him that he is not doing any evil. He is not doing anything bad. Spreading Happiness can NOT be bad. Ever. Shooting arrows at others is not bad. Killing monsters is not bad. Winning, even if the "stubborn Cookies" resisted, is not bad. You won. You achieved victory. And you did it with love. I see a lot of posts talking about the statues/sculptures. I want to add to this.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of decor: Tender Dream Raspberry Jam. Visual Description: A statue of a Sugar Angel ontop of a raspberry jam jar. Has a small amount of jam on its right wing and head. In-game Description: "May your slumbers be happy in the Garden of Delights! Eternal Sugar Cookie herself has crafted these intricate jars of jam to keep Cookie protected from pain and suffering for all eternity. It is said that this jam tastes like the warmest memory of your life. Those splatters of jam on the statue���? Don't you worry, sweetest!" End image ID.]

I want to focus on the end part. The splatters of jam. So... this is just pure confirmation that these transformations are painful. They bleed. They are in pain when these happen. Have another one.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of Decor: Sweet Slumber Blueberry Jam. Visual Description: A statue of a Sugar Angel on-top of a jar of blueberry jam. A blue tear comes from its right eye. In-game Description: May your slumbers be happy in the Garden of Delights! Eternal Sugar Cookie herself has crafted these intricate jars of jam to keep Cookies protected from sorrow and suffering for all eternity. it is said that this jam tastes like the fondest memory of your life. Why does the statue look like it's crying…? Those are happy tears, sweetest!" End image ID. ]

The fact that there's two of them—different ones—with either jam or tears... insinuates that there's different types of "petrification"? One that gives physical pain and another that is emotional? That's just a theory though.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Sugar Peacock. Visual Description: A purple peacock with seven tails. The peacock's eyes are closed, but eyes are on the ends of the tails. One eye per tail. In-game Description: These majestic birds with feathers of sleek, shiny candy walk gracefully around the Garden of Delights. With their eyes constantly closed, it may seem as though they are dreaming—but make no mistake: their real eyes are on the tips of their tail plumes. Day after day, these eyes witness happy faces. But… what happens if a face is not happy?" End image ID.]

"What happens if a face is not happy?" Another case of "any emotion except for Happiness is bad" in this place. And apparently, peacocks symbolize beauty, divinity, power, confidence... and "the beautiful things of life." Wow.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Mashmallow Candy Pillars (Top). Visual Description: Two pink pillars hold up a small part of a pale white ceiling. The pink part looks soft. In-game Description: A soft marshmallow wraps around a sturdy candy pillar making it completely harmless in the event of a sudden collision. The sensation of its plushy embrace upon impact has some Cookies dreaming of turning this pill-ar into the pill-ow of their dreams… but will they ever succeed?" End image ID.]

Ohhh man. The "pill" part of those words are getting singled out. This inspired the whole "sickness/illness/disease" things above. Like, of course this society would have parallels to sicknesses. They literally heal others... but I didn't expect this in this description.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of Decor: Winged Tree. Visual Description: A tree with purple angel wings as its leaves. In-game Description: "No one is ever busy in the Garden of Delights! Why soar in the sky when you can slumber in the shade of this tree? Legend has it that is how this tree gained its wings—the previous owner no longer needed them." End image ID.]

"The previous owner no longer needed them..." ...What does this mean. What does this mean??? Does Eternal Sugar Cookie just straight up... you know...? I mean, I guess it makes sense. You can hurt your people as much as you want because they are in the realm of healing and stuff. It won't matter how much pain you experience because you can just get all of that wiped away.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Swimming Tooth Rock. Visual Description: A tooth that can…swim… Apparently these are creatures in this world. In-game Description: This Toothling has rotted from drinking too much grape juice flowing through the Garden of Delights. However, it still will not stop, despite the pain… Perhaps, it lives as a testament to the phrase, "All is good in moderation." End image ID.]

...So are we just going to say that everyone in the Garden is raised to be masochistic...? The phrase "All is good in moderation" and like there's no moderation? They genuinely think it's good for them? Is this what this means?

But, yeah, anyway. I think this is crazy. Not to mention the music. I find it absolutely fascinating that the boss battle theme is a remix of the like, main theme of the place, I think. I know that makes sense, but... something about the boss battle theme just seems so... conflicted. The good that you know suddenly becomes bad. Everything you've ever lived for twists itself into disparagement by Eternal Sugar Cookie in-front of your eyes. It feels like the truth is coming out, yet you have a vague idea of said truth... It feels like you don't know which one to believe in.

But anyway. Sorry for this whole very extremely long post. Maybe I'll come back to this again and/or start posting my other ideas about stuff. I didn't even talk about Hollyberry or Eternal Sugar's relationship. My thoughts on it are probably.... different than others. I'll just say I like Eternal Sugar more than Hollyberry. ...Which..... is interesting, given that I don't exactly *like* like Eternal Sugar. Anyone else think Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie see each other as siblings btw? Anyway. I'll stop rambling. This has gotten long enough.

[gtxmandy]

𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 | ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖲𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇

Synopsis: reader and sunghoon met a few weeks ago but he’s leaving for tour in two days, reader wants to make sure he won’t forget about her on tour.

Pairing: idol!박성훈 x f!reader

Warnings:fluff,skinship, making out, not proofreading:)

The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and ruby as the taxi drove Sunghoon through the evening traffic. He adjusted the collar of his black coat, a nervous energy buzzing beneath his skin. Tonight wasn't a performance, wasn't a practice session, wasn't an interview. Tonight was just... y/n and him.

You'd met a few weeks ago through a mutual friend, a casual encounter that had somehow turned into easy laughter and late-night texts. You wasn't in the industry, which he found incredibly refreshing. Your world was filled with academic books, vintage cameras and relaxing cooking nights, a huge contrast with his and that’s what he enjoyed the most about being with you. You make him feel like the old Sunghoon, the one before fame, when he was just a normal little boy.

He arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, the collar of his shirt already feeling too tight around his neck, a slight warning from his body that he was getting a bit anxious. He found your table, a cozy corner booth, and ordered a sparkling water to calm his nerves. He checked his phone again for any texts from you, the countdown to the start of the tour a constant hum in the back of his mind. Two days. Two days until the whirlwind began.

Your quiet voice broke through his thoughts. "Sunghoon?"

He looked up and his breath hitched a little. You stood there wearing a cute dress and your knitted sweater like the first time you met. His smile grew wildly as you approached and he could smell your cozy scent.

"Y/n" he said, standing up. "You're here."

You laughed "I said I would be."

At first there was some awkwardness hovering between you when you finally took a sit, since the both of you were naturally a pair shy introverts, but thankfully you found your way of making things less weird and quickly started chatting about everything and nothing at the same time– mundane things like the new camera shops you’d find one day while walking around, the funny incident from his last practice, some random gossip from your college. He found himself leaning forward, making sure to pay full attention to your stories, and admire the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you genuinely laughed at his grandpa jokes that his friends don’t think it’s funny at all.

He knew he should probably be thinking about the tour, the rehearsals and the logistics of being out of the country for a few months. But all he could focus right now was the warm feeling on his chest when your quiet voice would ask curiously about his dreams beyond the stage, or his favorite childhood memory.

As the evening drew to a close, you make your way through the quiet streets, already empty due the late time. A comfortable silence settled between you. But the weight of the impending tour finally settled on his shoulders. He didn’t want this night to be over yet. Neither did you.

"So," You said softly, your voice laced with a hint of sadness, "you leave soon."

Sunghoon nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat. "Yeah. In two days."

You hummed quietly finally deciding to follow your instincts for the first time, you knew how complicated things could get because of his idol thing, your friends had warned you about how you wouldn’t be able to be a normal couple and do normal couple things or how he would have to be absent from time to time. You decided to let things follow their natural course but if it’s meant be or not you still want him to know how he makes you feel and how you were opened to welcome anything you both can build together. You stop in your tracks and hold his hand taking him by surprise, his ears turning a bright shade of red feeling a bit nervous by your bold move but enjoying every second of the feeling of your smaller hands interlaced with his.

“I want to show you something” You say batting your big eyelashes at him like a cute kitten making him smile softly

He squeezes your hand nodding. “Alright then.”

You walk for some time still hand in hand, no words being said, just enjoying the fresh feeling of something new growing quietly between you, that little feeling when you are in the very beginning stage of finally realizing your feelings for someone. Just for tonight you pretended to be a pair of normal young adults in love. You finally stop and stare at him.

“Tadam…” you say excitedly as he stares at you confused.“The photobooth, Hoon!” You pointed behind him.

“Ah… you made me walk for fifteen minutes in the cold to take some pictures? Why not just take in our phones?” He laughs.

“Well… yeah, when you talk like that makes it seem stupid,we should….” he interrupts you before you can finish the sentence

“I’m just messing with you!” He squeezes your hand. “If you want to take pictures, then we will take pictures.” He gently pulls you towards the booth.

“Oh, it’s quite small in here.” He scrapes his neck.

There is a little red stoll inside, the spot clearly made for one person at time. But you truly didn’t remember it being so small since the last time you came here with your cousin you both managed to sit together.

“In my defense I promise I didn’t remember it being so small, i used to come here with my cousin all the time.”

“When did you last came here?”

“When i was around 7 i guess?”

He laughs “Yeah that explain why you both got to be in the same frame at the same time.”

But you didn’t walk in the cold air just to give up now, you think to yourself.

“Well sit!” You tell him and he obeys .

Without thinking much you close the curtain and quickly sit on his lap making him sit as stiff as a board avoiding looking back at him knowing he probably had his eyes almost coming out of its socket in shock. You shift on his legs trying to make yourself comfortable and you start setting the pictures on the screen in front of you.

“Why are you so quiet?” You ask without looking at him trying to figure if you killed the poor boy by giving him a really bad anxiety, when he doesn’t give you an answer you finally stare at him. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve never had a girl sitting in your lap before.” You joke not expecting him to answer this time, but little did you know he was building the courage to make you feel as flustered as he was.

“I did. But never with someone who i was really interested in.” He says smirking watching you suddenly go quiet as your face go warm. “What? Cat got your tongue?” He stares at you raising his thick eyebrows with a boyish grin.

“Let’s take the pictures.” You nudge his chest playfully still embarrassed by how easy it was to make you stop talking.

You finally set the pictures and the timer start to tick on the little screen

1..2..

You suppress a little scream as Sunghoon sneak his cold hands around your waist bringing you closer as you smile for the first pic. As soon as you hear the click there is only a few seconds before the second countdown restarts

1..2..

Still with his hands around you, you raise your arm doing a heart on his cheek making his smile grow wider. Click.

For the next and last pose, hearing the tick again, taking your last chance to really show him how you feel about him you turn to face him and grab his chin forcing him to look at you, on a new wave of boldness you quickly connect your lips with his feeling him go tense under your touch. You put your arms around his neck, waiting for his response but he still seemed too shocked to react so you break the kiss feeling very embarrassed. Did you take it too far? Did read the signs wrong? What if he was just being nice all this time and you got it all wrong?

“I’m so stupid, I-I’m sorry i…” you start but before you can say anything else he kisses you again.

This kiss was different. It held the weight of his upcoming departure, like a desperate attempt to memorize the taste of your lips. His grip tightens on your waist squeezing your sides making you open your mouth, and he uses that moment to deepen the kiss. You sneak your hands around his neck pulling slightly his hair making him moan in your mouth and you swear you’ve never heard a more angelic sound in you life, his lips start tracing your jawline and you feel his hot breath lingering on your neck before start giving you open mouthed wet kisses, feeling yourself grow hotter underneath your clothes you wished for his big hands to touch you in the most intimate ways, but slowly you break the kiss, Sunghoon still chasing after your lips his chest raising out of breath and his hands tracing slow circles on your waist. You truly wanted him, but you didn’t want to have any intimate moment like this on a photobooth where someone could easily walk in on you.

Sunghoon rests his head on your chest. “I think we got a little… carried away” he laughs.

You take the two copies of the pictures and hands one to him.

“So you don’t forget about me while you’re away.” He smiles taking the picture and staring up at you with the cutest puppy eyes like he wasn’t all horny just a few seconds ago. God this boy could be the death of you.

“I’m putting this one in my wallet.” He says giving you a peck. “I know I shouldn’t be asking this but… could you wait for me to comeback? I know it will be a few months but i really want us to figure out… this” he points to the both of you. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this, y/n, so no pressure it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

You brush his hair out of his eyes. “I want this. I don’t mind waiting for you.”

[corseque]

another clair obscur spoiler thought that might be wrong because I would need to do another playthrough

it really strikes me that the first real world character that you speak to and have an exchange with is Aline at the end of act 2!!

Every character who speaks to Maelle before that is in some way a creation of Aline. And what is very interesting is how the ONLY criticism that Maelle ever goes through is when she's speaking to people from the real world.

When I played the game, I found the criticism from her family to be harsh, but watching the scenes again, I think the only ones that sound actually cruel still are some of the things her mother says, but even those, I think the cruelest things are things Maelle/Alicia SAYS that her mother thinks of her, not anything we actually see or hear the mother actually saying outright.

Clea especially, after hearing her really caring advice that she gives to Maelle/Alicia if you get to the top of the Endless Tower where she advises Maelle to follow her heart... her tough impatience feels different on rewatch too. She's just in mourning and her personality is sharp and she's a little condescending, but she talks about loving Verso and she compliments Maelle when she hides the painting well. She's just a normal person with her own priorities and battles. The father as well.

But none of the painted characters in the painting act even a little irrationally cruel in their grief toward Maelle when the act 1 spoiler happens. They always act extremely loving toward her, and you think that it's just a found family thing, but then you start to wonder about - like she would still have Painter powers that she could use to influence the people around her to love her. I remember there's certain lines that Lune etc say that imply Of Course They Love Maelle, almost like it's maybe something they have been painted to do, maybe just by Maelle being around them. This could also explain why Maelle wanted to get away from Lumiere as a child...? To get to somewhere real? (She is such a complicated character, I need to think about it more)

But anyway, there's SOMETHING about how the only people who seem to talk to her in a normal, real and even slightly critical way are her family with real lives and real concerns that exist outside of her....? And then this seems to be supported by the ending where she has painted Lune and Sciel to wear the exact same clothes as each other, styled the same (even though when the two were created by Aline, they had very unique fashion senses).

I've seen people call Renoir's painting of Alicia cruel and unflattering and Maelle speaks as if he doesn't understand her in his painting ("I get vertigo" she says), but imo it's genuinely such a true and heartbreaking depiction of her, like he sees her truly for who and what she is and I think he painted her accurately. It's literally a portrait of her in the last frame of the Alicia ending, stuck in place and not working on anything or even moving at all.

Like I think it was purposefully done in the story that the real people that she actually knows in her family can give her insight into herself that will help her grow and change, while she cannot get pushback or growth from the paintings....?

[souluvvv]

Coffee & Confession - Kim Jongseob x reader

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Kim Jongseob x reader oneshot - 𐙚⋆.˚୨ৎ

!! this is the pt.2 of -> hallway crushes !!

genre: fluff - school crushes - coffee date

notes: english is not my first language!! sry for any errors, hope you still enjoy :3

likes and reblog are appreciated!! .⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

→ m.list"

The café near the school wasn’t anything fancy, just a quiet corner shop with chipped mugs, warm lighting, and the smell of cinnamon and roasted beans in the air. But to Jongseob, it felt like a cathedral. His hands trembled slightly as he held the mug, steam curling around his fingers. Across from him, you sat with a soft smile, stirring your drink as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

But to him? This was unreal.

“I’m glad you messaged,” you said, breaking the silence first. “I didn’t expect it, honestly. I mean…not the cheesy line, but, I always saw you around.”

Jongseob blinked. “Wait, you noticed me?”

You chuckled, tapping your spoon lightly on the edge of the cup. “Yeah. You think I wouldn’t recognize the guy who stares at me like he’s watching a K-drama plot unfold?”

His face went red instantly. “Okay…ouch. But fair.”

You smiled wider, leaning forward. “I liked it, though. Kind of cute.”

And just like that, the awkwardness melted into laughter. Jongseob loosened up, telling you about how Intak basically forced him to act, how he rewrote the text a dozen times, and how he nearly threw his phone across the room after hitting send. You laughed at all of it, genuinely, and every time you did, he felt a little more at ease.

After a while, the conversation turned quieter. More thoughtful.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you asked softly.

He looked down into his coffee. “I think I was afraid that the real me wouldn’t live up to the version of you I’d built up in my head. You know? Sometimes…it’s easier to admire from a distance.”

You nodded slowly. “I get that. But you’re here now. And honestly, the real you? Pretty great so far.”

That made his heart stutter.

As the sky outside turned shades of orange and lavender, the two of you sat in that little café, lost in each other’s stories, glances, and quiet moments. By the end of it, Jongseob walked you to the bus stop, the air a little colder but his chest warmer than it had been in weeks.

“Same time next week?” he asked, already missing the sound of your voice.

You gave him a smile that made his knees weak. “Next time, you’re walking over without Intak’s help.”

“Deal.”

As the bus pulled away and you waved from the window, Jongseob stood there, grinning like a fool.

He felt that things were going to be like a daydream

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

~ I finally posted the pt.2 of hallway crushes, I hope you enjoyed it and as always if you have any requests feel free to write them in the ask box!! ★

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[stellaspectral]

Now for my second request: I don't know if you're comfortable writing love triangles (the first one was kinda a triangle too but well…) but this time I would like a 2007 Raph x Reader x Leo where they both fall in love with her at the same time and she has to choose who to be with in the end (let's make their relationship in that movie even messier and with another thing to argue about! I love drama!😈). This triangle started before Leo went to South America but back then no one ever knew about anyone's feelings and they were all just acting like normal friends. Then Reader was just as disappointed and angry as Raph when Leo didn't want to come back and stopped sending them letters (the reader received also secret personal letters addressed only to her and Raph realizes from this that Leo might be interested in the Reader romantically just like him), and Raph and her got really close and bonded because of that. Reader was also the first one to find out that Raph is the Nightwatcher and offered her apartment as a second shelter when he wanted a place to sleep, be away from his brothers or just hang out with her. During this time Raph also thought about confessing his feelings to her but here comes Leo back from South America to complicate things again! (I love 2007 Leo just as much as 2007 Raph I promise, that’s why this is a love triangle. I genuinely can’t choose between them). I’ll let you choose how you want the story to end again (who will the Reader choose? Will Raph and Leo kill each other? Find out next episode lmao) and I apologize again if my English is not the best!

A/N: Oh-ho-ho *rubs hands together* I love myself a juicy, tense love triangle 😈 But ya’ll are getting both versions of the ending.

Enjoy! 💖

Collateral Hearts (angst)

💙 2007 Leonardo/Female Reader ★ Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Angst, love triangle, themes of abandonment, sibling conflict, jealousy, brief descriptions of fighting and injuries, multiple endings (you choose!). All characters are aged-up.

Before Splinter sends Leo to Central America, back when the four brothers were still a fractured—but whole—unit under the city. You’re there, woven into the fabric of their strange, hidden lives.

You train with them, spar sometimes (mostly with Mikey, who doesn’t mind losing), patch up scrapes after patrols, and share greasy pizza on movie nights in the lair. Even then, there’s an invisible current pulling you towards two specific points in this constellation of brothers.

Leo. His gaze often finds yours across the room—intense, analytical, yet softened with something unreadable when it lands on you. A shared glance during Splinter’s lessons, a quiet question about your day that feels weightier than it should. Looks that linger just a few beats too long. Not that you minded.

Then there’s Raph. A tumultuous, rough sea of energy. But around you, there’s a specific turbulence—a protective warmth that flares unexpectedly when someone gets too close. Even one of his brothers. He’s the one who walks a little closer when you navigate the darker tunnels, the one whose shoulder bumps feel more deliberate than accidental.

But you’re still friends. Allies. Confidantes. That’s the story you all stick to, the safe label taped over a box of much more complicated feelings.

Then Splinter made the call. Leo must go to a foreign country for a year of leadership training. The thought of his steady presence vanishing left an immediate, aching void. You saw the conflict in Leo’s eyes, duty warring with reluctance. He promised to write, his gaze pausing on you for a fraction longer than on his brothers.

He kept his word, at first. Letters arrived addressed to the lair. You gathered with Donnie and Mikey to read them aloud. Leo’s careful script detailed grueling training regimens, encounters with unfamiliar wildlife, and the strange beauty of the jungle. Donnie and Mikey would talk about the letters, but Raph—he only listened. Jaw tight.

Especially after you started getting letters only for you.

In these, Leo was different. More personal. He shed the leader persona. Asked about your life, your classes, even the most mundane details. Shared doubts, frustration, moments of quiet contemplation he’d never voice to his brothers. He recalled a joke you made months ago, mentioned dreaming of sparring with you, specific conversations you had late at night.

It all sent a confusing jolt through you, making your heart beat faster, chased by a prickle of guilt. You still keep the letters hidden, tucked away in a shoebox under your bed. But you had a feeling Raph already knew about them, even without him having to resort to snooping around.

Then the letters stopped. All of them. Silence stretched from weeks into months. Worry festered, then soured into a shared bitterness, particularly between you and Raph. He often paces, slams his fists into the punching bag harder than necessary, his already short fuse burning down to nothing.

“Guess Fearless Leader’s too good for us now,” he snarled one evening, smacking the bag hard enough to break it. “Suppose he found better things to do than write to his family.”

You nodded, the shared sense of abandonment a bitter taste in your mouth. “He could at least tell us he’s alive,” you murmured, picking at a loose thread on your shirt. “Or that he’s okay, or … something.”

The disappointment became a strange, potent glue. You and Raph gravitated towards each other. You trained together more often, pushing each other, the physical exertion a release for the pent-up anger. For hours, you would talk. Sometimes in the lair, other times huddled on your fire escape, sharing frustrations about Leo, about the team falling apart. Everything.

You see past Raph’s rage, glimpse the aching vulnerability beneath the shell, the deep-seated fear of not being enough. He sees your disappointment, your confusion, your own quiet hurt.

One night, when you were walking home, you heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle. Not the usual mugging, but something more brutal. You peeked cautiously around a dumpster—and there he was. A figure clad in armor taking down a group of thugs with terrifying efficiency.

The Nightwatcher.

Your breath caught. But there was something familiar about the way he moved. After he disarmed the last thug, he turned, glimpsing you in the shadows before vaulting onto a nearby roof. And you knew who it was.

Raph had started sleeping all day, becoming distant—almost as if he was hiding something from everyone. But you didn’t confront him immediately. The next time he appeared near your neighborhood, though, you didn’t hesitate and called out his name. He froze on the fire escape opposite yours, silhouetted against the moon.

Then he pulled off his helmet, his eyes locking onto yours, full of defiance and exhaustion.

You simply gestured towards your open window. “Come in. Before someone sees you.”

Your apartment became his haven, his second shelter. A place disconnected from the lair. He crashes on your couch sometimes after rough evenings of vigilantism and you tend to his wounds. Other nights, he just shows up, shedding the armor—but not the weight on his shoulders, needing a place to just be, away from his family’s expectations.

You listen. You don’t judge.

Over time, your bond deepened. You see the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not watching, a mixture of longing and frustration. A comfortable silence often settles between you now, charged with unspoken desires that flicker in the periphery of your awareness. Becoming stronger by the day.

By the time Leo’s been gone a year, you and Raph are practically inseparable, a constant presence in each other’s lives that has evolved beyond mere companionship.

Tonight, Raph sits on your closed toilet, his armor piled haphazardly in the tub. He still breathes raggedly, the adrenaline from his patrol slowly leaving him. You sit on the edge of the tub, dabbing carefully at a gash above his brow ridge with a cotton pad.

“Hold still,” you murmur as he flinches from the sting of the antiseptic.

A low grunt escapes him, but he obeys, his gaze fixed somewhere on the linoleum floor. You’re used to caring for his wounds, but something feels different this evening. There are more cuts, deeper bruises blooming on his knuckles. And he’s quieter than usual, the typical simmering anger replaced by a raw exhaustion that seems to seep into the very air around him.

You reach for a butterfly bandage, peeling off the backing. Your fingers brush against his rough, green skin as you position it over the cut on his forehead. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his head tilts slightly, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet yours.

The proximity is suddenly overwhelming. You can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands resting on his knees, the way his throat works as he swallows. That look is there again. Your breath hitches.

The silence stretches, filled only by the distant hum of city traffic and the frantic thumping of your own heart. It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground shifting beneath your feet. Years of friendship, shared grief over Leo’s silence—it all swirls between you, threatening to tip you over the cliffside.

He leans forward almost imperceptibly, his rough knuckles brushing against your knee. The contact sends a jolt, sharp and warm, straight through you. His eyes search yours, questioning, demanding something you aren’t sure you can give. Images flash through your mind: Leo’s steady gaze, the careful script on his hidden letters, the confusing warmth they’d sparked. Guilt pricks at you, sharp and unwelcome.

Raph must see the flicker of conflict in your eyes. The intensity in his gaze wavers, replaced by a familiar frustration, which is quickly masked. He pulls back slightly, breaking the spell. The air rushes back into your lungs, leaving you feeling shaky.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, finally breaking the silence. His voice is rougher than usual.

“Anytime, Raph,” you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. You stand up, gathering the used cotton pads and wrappers. The moment has passed, the fragile connection severed. But the echo of it remains, hanging heavy in the air.

He finishes wiping the lingering grime from his face and arms, avoiding your eyes now. “Donnie’s been askin’ questions,” he says abruptly. “Where I go. Why I’m so beat up all the time.”

You nod, busying yourself with tidying the small bathroom counter. “What have you been telling him?”

“Same old crap. Extra training. Fell down some stairs.” He snorts, a humorless sound. “Mikey just thinks I’m sleepin’ all day ‘cause I’m lazy.” He pauses, then adds, quieter, “Easier that way.”

He stands up, stretching gingerly. The movement pulls the muscles taut across his shoulders and back. He’s still Raph—volatile, protective, a storm contained within a powerful frame. But here, in the relative safety of your apartment, the cracks in his armor show. You see the vulnerability he fights so hard to conceal, the fear of abandonment that fuels his anger.

He goes to collect his stuff. As he passes, his hand brushes yours again, lingering for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Then he gathers the rest of his gear, gives you a nod, and slips back out the window, melting into the pre-dawn gloom.

You stand there for a long moment, listening to the fading sounds of his departure, the silence of your apartment feeling both emptier and more complicated than ever before. You go over to the couch, sinking into the cushions. Exhaustion finally begins to claim you. The emotional whiplash of the evening, coupled with the late hour, makes your eyelids feel like lead weights.

You don’t bother changing; you curl up, pulling a throw blanket over yourself. Your thoughts drift, a jumbled mess of green skin and intense eyes—

—then the sudden, shrill ring of your phone jolts you awake. You blink, disoriented; you must have dozed off. Who would be calling at this hour, anyway? You fumble for the phone on the coffee table, checking the caller ID: Donnie. Anxiety spikes. He rarely calls, unless it was urgent.

Had something happened to Raph on his way back?

“Donnie?” you answer, your voice thick with sleep and apprehension. “Is everything okay? Is Raph—”

“He’s back,” Donnie’s voice comes through the line, cutting you off. He sounds breathless, wired, a mixture of disbelief and frantic energy buzzing through his words. “He’s back. Leo’s back!”

The world tilts. You bolt upright, the blanket pooling around your waist. “What? He is?” The words are barely a whisper. Leo. Here? Now?!

“Yeah,” Donnie confirms. “Splinter’s with him now. It’s really him!”

You feel as if someone punched the air out of your lungs. The nearly year of silence, worry, frustration, anger. And the comfort you’d found in his absence with Raph—all of it crashes down at once.

Leo was back.

You grip the phone tighter. “I … okay,” you manage, the words feeling inadequate, hollow. “Okay, Donnie. Thanks for … telling me.”

You hang up, the phone slipping from your suddenly nerveless fingers and falling to the floor. The silence in the apartment roars back, louder than before, saturated with the impossible news.

Leo. Back.

The two words echo in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your mind. Back from the jungle, back from the silence. Back from the place he’d occupied in your memory, like a photograph tinged with resentment and a persistent ache. He was supposed to be a ghost, a problem deferred, a complication locked away with those hidden letters.

Not anymore.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, a frantic rhythm completely at odds with the numbness spreading through your limbs. You stare at the opposite wall, unseeing, the pattern swimming before your eyes. Just minutes ago, the world had felt compressed, focused down to the charged space between you and Raph in your bathroom.

That moment now feels like a scene from someone else’s life, blurred and distant.

Raph.

A wave of something akin to panic washes over you. Raph, who had just slipped out your window. Raph, who had listened to you rail against Leo’s abandonment. Who had shared his vulnerability with you. Whose frustration and longing had been so palpable. How would he react?

Donnie’s call meant the news was already spreading through the lair. Would Raph feel blindsided? Betrayed, even, by the universe suddenly dropping his long-lost brother back into the mix just as something fragile and tentative was solidifying between you?

Guilt twists in your gut. Not just for the hidden letters anymore, but for the intimacy you’d shared with Raph, forged in the crucible of Leo’s absence. Did you build it all on a foundation of shared resentment? Was the comfort you found in his presence just a reaction, a way to fill the void Leo left? Or was it something real, something separate, something that now felt impossibly complicated?

You push yourself off the couch, pacing the confines of your living room. Your thoughts race, colliding like billiard balls. Leo’s return changes everything.

You wonder what Leo is like now; a year is a long time. Would he still be the same thoughtful leader? Or would the jungle have changed him, hardened him? Why come back now, without a word? So many questions, and the thought of facing him, of navigating the tangled web of unspoken feelings, makes your head spin.

Two brothers. Two intense, complicated connections.

Before, the choice felt hypothetical, distant. Leo was gone, a memory wrapped in unanswered questions. Raph was here, solid, intense, a growing certainty in the chaos. But now, Leo is back—and the choice is suddenly very real. You close your eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. You have to choose your next move.

And you have no idea which way to turn.

Just like that, the fragile bubble bursts.

The reunion in the lair is strained, fraught with tension. The arguments start almost immediately, old wounds ripped open, new ones inflicted. Leo tries to step back into his role as leader. But Raph bristles under his command, the resentment now fueled by more than just brotherly rivalry.

Those old wounds aren’t just reopened; they’re ripped wider, doused in the salt of the past year’s bitterness. And you? You’re caught squarely in the middle.

Leo seeks you out, his gaze earnest, apologetic. He tries to explain the silence, the overwhelming nature of his training, the isolation. “I messed up,” he admits, “not writing. And not writing to you, especially, is unforgivable. Being away, being alone … it made me realize things. What I’d left behind. Who I’d left behind.”

His eyes plead for understanding, for a return to the tentative connection forged through those hidden letters. He’s the prodigal son, the steady leader trying to find his footing, reminding you of the intellectual spark, the shared ideals you once admired.

Simultaneously, Raph’s presence becomes fiercely territorial. His jealousy is no longer a subtle undercurrent; it’s a tangible force field. A possessive hand landing on the small of your back when Leo approaches. Standing deliberately between you and his brother. His voice drops to a low growl when Leo addresses you directly. His glares are daggers.

He reminds you, wordlessly and sometimes explicitly, that he stayed. He endured the silence with you. And more than ever, he seeks refuge in your apartment; being in the lair is physically unbearable for him now. “Can’t breathe down there with him acting like nothing happened,” he mutters, collapsing onto your couch.

The arguments between the brothers escalate, and you know, with a sickening certainty, that you are part of the fuel for their fire.

You hear snippets: “Stay away from her, Leo!” “You think I didn’t notice how close you two got while I was gone?” It tears you apart, watching them fight, knowing your feelings are a wedge driving them further apart. The pressure builds, an unbearable weight on your chest.

They both corner you at different times, the words tumbling out.

Leo finds you on the rooftop, the city spread out below. “I know this is complicated. But what I felt then, what I tried to tell you in those letters—it wasn’t just about missing a friend. It was more. It is more. Coming back, seeing you … it confirmed everything the jungle taught me about what truly matters. I want a chance to prove I can be the man you deserve, the partner I should have been all along. I messed up big time, and I’m so, so sorry.” His eyes search yours, full of hope and regret.

Raph confronts you in your apartment after another explosive fight with Leo. He paces your small living room like a caged tiger before stopping right in front of you, his eyes blazing.

“I can’t do this anymore. Watching him look at you, talk to you and pretend like he didn’t just abandon everyone, abandon you. You know me. All of me.” He takes a ragged breath, the vulnerability stark on his face. “Is this real? What’s been growing between us? Tell me. I need to know if I have a shot, or if I’ve just been fooling myself.”

Your heart feels like it’s being ripped in two different directions. But you must choose. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath …

Do you invite Leo over?

Or Raph?

💙 LEO ENDING 💙

The faces of both brothers flash behind your eyelids.

Raph—the raw, protective energy, the shared struggle through the lonely year, the fierce vulnerability he showed only you. The palpable connection forged in late-night talks and frustrations, the almost-kiss in the bathroom. Choosing him felt like picking the present, the tangible, the fire that burned bright and hot right beside you.

But then there is Leo. The quiet intensity, the exchanged glances that spoke volumes before he ever left. The thoughtful leader who, even in his absence, reached out through letters, revealing a depth of feeling that had resonated long before Raph became a constant presence. His apology felt genuine, steeped in the weight of his realization.

Choosing Leo feels like picking a path started long ago, interrupted but not erased. Like choosing the steady mountain, the man who saw you clearly even from afar. The guilt over the shared intimacy with Raph while Leo was gone gnaws at you. But the foundation with Leo felt older, deeper, somehow more right for you, despite the hurt his silence caused.

Maybe the bond with Raph, as intense as it was, had been born more of circumstance and shared abandonment than a true meeting of souls. It’s a painful thought, disloyal even, but it felt true. Your heart aches for Raph, for the pain this would inevitably cause him. You know his reaction wouldn’t be quiet or easily managed.

But you couldn’t base your future on preventing his anger, nor could you deny the pull towards Leo that had existed long before the complications arose.

With trembling fingers, you retrieve your phone.

It rings twice before he picks up, his voice cautious. “Hello?”

“Leo,” you begin, your own voice barely a whisper. You clear your throat, trying to sound stronger. “Can … can you come over? To my place. Now.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Then, quietly, “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Hanging up feels like sealing a door shut.

You stand in the middle of your living room, wrapping your arms around yourself, bracing for the conversation to come, and the inevitable fallout that would follow. The weight of the decision settles heavily in your gut, a mix of terrifying clarity and profound sadness for the friend you were about to wound deeply.

Later, a soft knock echoes through the apartment. Not the impatient rapping Raph sometimes used, but a hesitant, measured sound. You slide open the window, seeing Leo looking uncertain, his wary but hopeful eyes searching yours.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside when you gesture him in.

The air crackles with the history between you, the year of silence. You lead him to the couch, but neither of you sits immediately.

You turn to face him, needing to get this out. “Leo, I …”

He holds up a hand gently. “Let me,” he says, his voice earnest. “Before you say anything. I need you to understand. Going away—it wasn’t just training. It was … breaking myself down. Splinter knew I needed it. I was becoming rigid, losing sight of what mattered. The isolation was brutal. At first, writing helped. Writing to you especially helped. It was the only time I felt … normal. Connected.”

He takes a breath, his gaze unwavering. “Then it got harder. The training intensified, the self-doubt … it became overwhelming. I convinced myself I wasn’t worthy of leading. That silence was easier than admitting failure, even in a letter. Especially to you. I thought I needed to come back whole, fixed. So I shut you out. It was cowardly and selfish, and I regret it more than anything.”

He looks around the small apartment, his eyes lingering on the couch. “I know things changed while I was gone. I see how close you and Raph got. And I don’t blame either of you.”

Tears prick at your eyes, a mixture of relief at his honesty and residual pain. “It hurt, Leo. The silence. We thought … everyone thought something had happened. Or that you just didn’t care anymore.”

“I always cared,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Being away, especially being silent, only made me realize how much I cared. About my family. About …” He pauses, his gaze locking with yours. “About you. Those letters—they weren’t just letters, not for me. They were me trying to hold on to the most important thing I’d left behind.”

You finally meet his gaze fully, seeing the sincerity, the regret, but also the steady conviction that had always drawn you to him. “Raph …” you start, the name tasting like guilt on your tongue.

“I know,” Leo nods, his expression pained but resolute. “This is going to be hard. For all of us. Especially for him. But I needed to tell you how I feel. And I needed to know …” He trails off, waiting.

Taking another deep breath, you finally make the choice concrete, speaking the words aloud. “I needed you to come back, Leo.” It’s not a perfect declaration, but it’s the truth. “What I felt before you left, and when I read your letters … it’s still here. Underneath everything else that happened this year.” You step closer, the space between you shrinking. “It’s complicated. And I’m scared. But … it’s you. Always has been.”

A wave of relief washes over Leo’s face, so profound it seems to physically lighten him. He reaches out, his hand hovering for a moment before gently taking yours. His touch is warm, steady. It feels different from Raph’s rougher, more demanding touch. It feels like coming home, albeit to a home that needs serious rebuilding.

“Okay,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand gently. “We can figure out complicated. Together.”

Understanding passes between you. This is not the end of the struggle, but the beginning of a different one. There will be shouting matches in the lair, hurt feelings, tough conversations. Raph’s reaction looms large and ominous. But in this moment, standing in your apartment, hand-in-hand with the brother you chose, there’s a fragile sense of hope, a quiet determination to face whatever comes next, side-by-side.

The path ahead is uncertain, likely painful, but for the first time since Leo’s return, you feel like you’re finally facing the right direction.

You stand there for a long moment. His thumb brushes gently over your knuckles, a small, grounding gesture. You watch the movement, then lift your gaze back to his eyes, which are filled with the look of someone who had almost lost something precious and was only now allowing himself to truly believe it might still be within reach.

He hasn’t let go of your hand, and you find you don’t want him to. He takes a step closer, the space between you shrinking until you can feel the subtle warmth radiating from him. The air feels electric, just like it had in those stolen glances years ago. But amplified now by everything that has happened since. His gaze drops briefly to your lips, then flickers back up to meet your eyes, a silent question asked.

Your breath hitches. This is it—the culmination of those letters, the late-night thoughts, the ache of his absence, the confusing swirl of emotions upon his return. The guilt over Raph still lingers, a dull ache in the background, but it’s overshadowed now by the undeniable pull towards the man standing before you. This feels … inevitable. Right.

He lifts his free hand, slowly, and cups your cheek. His touch is comforting, though slightly calloused from his training, but infinitely tender. You lean into the contact, your eyes fluttering closed for just a second. And when you open them again, his face is closer, his expression soft.

He doesn’t rush. He simply tilts his head, his gaze holding yours until the last possible moment, before closing the remaining distance. The first touch of his lips is soft, hesitant almost. Tentative as if testing a fragile ground after an earthquake. But then, as you respond, pressing back gently, the kiss deepens.

It isn’t explosive; it’s a slow burn, infused with a year’s worth of longing and regret. Tasting of relief, of apologies accepted. There’s a quiet strength in it, a steadiness that mirrors Leo’s very core. It’s like finding shelter after being lost in a storm, a sense of clicking back into place. Months of worried silence melt away, leaving only this.

Him.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only slightly, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes remain closed for a beat, his breathing a little unsteady now. You keep your eyes closed now too, savoring the closeness.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion, “how long I’ve thought about …” He doesn’t finish the sentence, didn’t need to.

You open your eyes to find him watching you. You reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. “Me too, Leo,” you whisper, the admission feeling momentous.

He smiles then—a genuine one that reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. It holds the weight of your past.

And the hope for the future.

❤️ RAPH ENDING ❤️

The faces of both brothers flash behind your eyelids.

Leo—the steady gaze, the potential promised in those hidden letters, the man you thought you were waiting for. His apology felt sincere, his explanation plausible. Choosing Leo feels like picking up a thread from the past, acknowledging a connection that had deep roots. Like choosing the calm harbor, the thoughtful partner.

But then there is Raph, who stayed. Weathered the storm of Leo’s absence with you. The one whose rough edges soften only for you, revealing a fierce loyalty and a depth of feeling that resonates in the here and now. The almost-kiss in the bathroom wasn’t just a fleeting moment; it felt like the culmination of a year spent leaning on each other, seeing each other’s true selves laid bare by frustration and vulnerability.

Choosing Raph feels like picking the present. Leo’s return feels like an echo from another time, while Raph is the solid, breathing reality right beside you. The bond with him isn’t just a placeholder; it has grown into something strong and vital on its own merit. Choosing Leo now would be betraying not just Raph, but the truth of the past year.

Your heart aches with a different pain—the sadness of letting go of the ‘what if’ with Leo. The knowledge that you are choosing a path potentially filled with more immediate conflict, given Raph’s nature and existing tensions. But the thought of turning him away after everything feels wrong, a denial of the connection that has become your anchor.

With trembling fingers, you retrieve your phone.

He answers on the first ring, his voice tight, guarded. “Yeah?” Like he was expecting bad news.

“Raph,” you begin, your voice steadier than you expected, fueled by a sudden certainty. “Can … can you come over? To my place. Now.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by a loaded silence. Then, rougher than usual, “You sure?”

“Yeah, Raph,” you say, the conviction solidifying in your chest. “I’m sure.”

“On my way,” he grunts, and the line clicks dead.

Hanging up feels like sealing a door shut.

You stand in the middle of your living room, wrapping your arms around yourself, bracing not just for the conversation. But for the intensity Raph would bring back with him. The weight of the decision settles, heavy but clear, a choice made for the present. For the man who had stood by you, fire and all.

Later, there’s a familiar, slightly impatient thudding sound at your window—his usual way of announcing himself. You slide it open, and Raph vaults inside. He stands there, filling the space, his eyes narrowed, searching yours, braced for impact.

“So?” he asks, his voice low, challenging. Ready for a fight, or maybe just protection against getting hurt again.

You don’t hesitate. You walk right up to him, stopping just inches away. “So,” you echo softly, meeting his intense gaze. “Leo came looking for me. He apologized. Explained things.”

Raph’s jaw tightens, a muscle flexing. He doesn’t look surprised, more resigned. “Figured.” He looks away, before muttering, “Good for him.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. He flinches slightly but doesn’t pull away. “Raph, look at me.” He drags his gaze back to yours, his eyes guarded but showing a flicker of the vulnerability you know so well. “What happened this past year. Between us. It wasn’t just because Leo was gone. And it wasn’t just filling a space. It was real. Is real.”

His breath hitches. The guarded look cracks, showing the desperate hope beneath. “Don’t mess with me,” he growls, but there’s no heat in it, only a raw plea.

“I’m not,” you insist. “Yes, Leo’s back, and it’s … complicated. I won’t lie. I had feelings for him before he left. Those letters—they confused things. But you were here. You saw me through it. We saw each other. What grew between us …” You inhale a shaky breath. “It’s you, Raph. You’re who I want.”

For a moment, he just stares, processing. Before he lets out a ragged breath, a sound heavy with a year’s worth of tension, frustration, and longing finally being released. He closes the small distance between you, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. “You mean it?” he whispers, his voice thick, searching your eyes for any hint of doubt.

“I mean it,” you whisper back, leaning into his touch.

He exhales. “Thought I lost you…” he murmurs. Relief washes off him in palpable waves as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he buries his face in your hair. It’s a desperate hold, almost as if he needs to physically feel the reality of your choice.

You hold him back just as tightly, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. This is it. The choice made. The path chosen.

And it won’t be easy. Leo’s return has already guaranteed conflict. The brothers are fractured, and this may deepen the cracks before any healing can begin. Raph’s possessiveness and temper will be tested, as will your patience. But here, wrapped in his arms, feeling the undeniable strength of the bond you forged in the loneliness, it feels right. It feels real. You chose the fire, the storm, the beating heart that stayed.

And together, you’ll face the fallout.

The two of you remain in an embrace. You can feel the tension slowly ebbing out of his shoulders, replaced by the sheer force of his relief. He holds you like a lifejacket, like you’re the only solid thing in a world that has just tilted violently off its axis and is only now beginning to settle.

Finally, he loosens his hold just enough to pull back slightly. His hands move from your back to frame your face, his thumbs brushing rough calluses against your cheekbones. A touch that is both possessive and tender. His eyes search yours with an intensity that robs your breath.

“You sure?” he asks again, his voice low and gravelly, needing the reassurance one last time. Because it isn’t a question of your feelings anymore, but of your understanding of what this meant—what choosing him entailed.

“I’m sure, Raph,” you breathe, meeting his gaze without flinching. You raise a hand, covering one of his, pressing his palm more firmly against your skin. “This. Us. It’s real.”

That’s all it takes, the last shred of restraint in him snapping. With a low growl deep in his chest, he claims your mouth. The kiss isn’t gentle or hesitant. It’s demanding, a raw outpouring of a year’s worth of pent-up longing and frustration. It’s the heat of the forge, the pressure of the dam finally breaking.

His lips are firm, insistent against yours, moving with an urgency that borders on overwhelming. But it feels undeniably right.

You kiss him back with equal fervor, winding your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still. This isn’t about forgetting about Leo or erasing the past; it’s about embracing the present. The tangible, fiery reality of Raphael. The kiss deepens, tasting of relief. And beneath it all, the undeniable taste of him. It’s grounding and exhilarating all at once, a confirmation that the intense bond you’ve built is exactly where you belong.

When he finally breaks away, you are both breathless, foreheads pressed together. The air is thick and charged between you. His breaths come ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t pull away completely, instead keeping you caged gently in his arms.

“Mine,” he rasps, the words possessive but stripped of its usual anger, spoken like a statement of fact. A prayer answered.

You don’t argue, don’t make a move to escape. You just nod, a smile touching your lips. “Yours,” you agree, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek.

A rough chuckle escapes him. “Good,” he grunts, pulling you back into a secure hug, burying his face in the curve of your neck.

The storm isn’t over. Leo is back, and the fights are inevitable. But here, secure in Raph’s arms, feeling the unwavering beat of his heart—you know you’ve chosen the eye of your storm.

And you wouldn’t be facing it all alone.

[silverynight]

A nest for pups

Tanjirou wakes up with the urge to make a nest; it's a bit weird since he just got his heat about a week ago, but the need is so strong he doesn't even question it.

It's easier to make a nest now that he's mated to all the Pillars; they always keep scented clothes in his room, and at least one of them is always available for cuddles.

The omega arranges the nest as he usually does, but he notices that there's something wrong; he needs another futon now because he wants a bigger nest this time.

Although he's not sure why.

A bit confused, he goes to Aoi to ask for another futon, and when he explains to the beta girl why he needs it, she looks back at him with curiosity.

"Can I do a quick check up, Tanjirou? Your cheeks look a bit pink."

He agrees, wondering for a moment if he's sick, but then, as he sits in front of Aoi and she makes sure his body temperature is normal; he remembers when he helped his mother to make her third nest for pups.

He's probably... no, he shouldn't jump to that conclusion immediately; he doesn't want to get his hopes up.

"Yes, that's exactly what I thought," Aoi mumbles to herself after touching Tanjirou's belly lightly and rubbing his scent glands a bit to have a better idea of how much his scent has changed. "You're pregnant, Tanjirou."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. We've had plenty of pregnant omegas in the butterfly estate with the same symptoms as you. The need to make a big nest is a clear telltale sign."

Trying not to tear up, Tanjirou beams, pulling Aoi into his arms.

"Can you keep the secret? I want to surprise my mates!"

She seems genuinely happy for him when she smiles back and nods.

"Of course, Tanjirou."

"Thank you!"

He sends a message to Ubuyashiki, who not only is very pleased with the news, he also agrees to keep Tanjirou's secret and even call a hashira meeting himself so the Pillars don't suspect a thing.

The omega immediately finds his sister and tells her everything; the demon girl understands enough and seems quite happy after Tanjirou tells her what's going on.

Between the two of them, they manage to bring another futon to Tanjirou's room and gather as many of his own clothes and the Pillars' to make the biggest nest the omega has ever made.

He's not sure how many pups he'll have, but he has the feeling that he's carrying more than one; maybe he's just being hopeful because he's always wanted a big family for himself, but Tanjirou is absolutely happy nonetheless.

He finds out the hashira meeting is scheduled for the next day so he has to sleep in his nest alone that day, but the omega doesn't mind; it smells like all his alphas' scents combined so Tanjirou falls asleep imagining they're there with him. He dreams about his future pups.

The omega wakes up feeling excited about his mates reactions; he eats slightly more than usual because he's starving and gets himself ready to meet Ubuyashiki.

The alpha and his family are already waiting for him in the hashira headquarters; all the Ubuyashiki family are very happy for him and offer their unconditional help and support.

Amane is already telling him what he should be expecting for the next weeks and how to prepare himself for the "bad" mornings.

"It's usually dizziness and a few mood swings, but you'll be fine," the female omega assures him before pulling him into her arms.

After drinking tea with them; Tanjirou prepares for the meeting. Ubuyashiki asks him to sit next to him as they wait for the hashira to arrive at the estate.

They get there quickly and immediately notice Tanjirou; all of them do. It's probably because his scent has become quite stronger or maybe because he still has all those mixed scents from his own mates from sleeping in his nest.

"Tanjirou?" Gyomei asks, turning his head to where he thinks the omega is. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

The question makes the others worry a bit; Tanjirou notices the concern coming from their scents, but Ubuyashiki calms them with a reassuring smile.

"Tanjirou is alright. He just wanted to have an important conversation with you."

"Actually," Tanjirou mumbles before noticing the way his mates stare at him; they always have the same look of adoration in their eyes whenever he's around. It's quite endearing. "Can I show them, Oyakata-sama?"

"Of course, Tanjirou," the alpha smiles before finding his face and ruffling his hair affectionately.

Even more intrigued, the Pillars rise as soon as the omega does before getting closer to them.

"What is it, darling?" Mitsuri asks, looking really curious now. She can't stop herself from giving the omega a kiss on the cheek.

"You'll see. Follow me!"

His alphas don't even question it. However, they ask where they are heading to, and when Tanjirou says it's the butterfly estate, Kyojuro takes him in his arms and carries him all the way there.

"You can put me down now, Kyojuro-san!" Tanjirou smiles gently, tapping the alpha's shoulder as he does.

He knows Sanemi is getting really impatient, but doesn't show it because he can tell his omega is very excited about the whole thing.

Tanjirou slowly guides them towards his room and slides the door open as his smile becomes even wider.

"That's a beautiful nest," Shinobu says immediately, prompting Tanjirou to purr in delight, even though she hasn't figured out the real secret behind it.

"It's bigger than the last one you did," Giyuu comments, getting curious and slightly confused. "But your heat just passed."

They all know about that of course, the spent it with Tanjirou. The omega shakes his head, feeling his cheeks growing hot at the memories, to focus on the amazing news he's going to share with them.

"Do you need anything?" Obanai asks, a bit worried. "Do you want any of us to stay with you today?"

"Oh, I see!" Tengen smirks. "I can invite my wives if you want us to have even more-"

"Or maybe you just want to cuddle?" Mitsuri cuts the sound hashira off as Shinobu hits him on the arm to shut him up.

Tanjirou shakes his head, still smiling.

"This is a nest for pups," he finally explains to them.

It's like time freezes for a moment, at least inside their heads because it takes them all a while to even blink again.

"Tanjirou, are you pregnant?" Gyomei asks, with the sweetest smile upon his face; he's tearing up and he's not the only one.

"I am! Aoi confirmed it!"

Muichiro hugs him first, purring the whole time.

"Oi, be careful! You're squeezing him!" Sanemi growls, yanking the mist hashira away.

Tanjirou assures them he's not fragile by any means, but he can already smell the protective part of them in their scents, like it has been woken up stronger than than ever.

Kyojuro wants to press his face against Tanjirou's belly, even though Shinobu insists he won't be able to feel anything because their omega probably has a bit more than a week pregnant.

Some of them start talking about possible names, others just want to cuddle with Tanjirou or kiss him every five seconds for making them even more happy, and others are already thinking about going on Tanjirou's missions instead of him, which of course the omega won't allow.

It's chaos, but Tanjirou wouldn't have it any other way.

He knows his pups are going to love their family as much as they already love them.

***

Patreon

[halitis]

im so fucking dumb. i was thinking about my blorbo and my stomach was hurting and i thought it was because i was just thinking about them and feeling sad. NO ITS CAUSE I WAS ABOUT TO THROW UP DUMBASS??

[clumsypuppy]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[rookdaw]

monster X monster hunter

[welcometogrouchland]

I'm going to be so real I do not understand tim & steph shippers who feel that Steph dating Tim again would save her character. You can make an argument that giving Tim a more compelling love interest would be beneficial for him! And you can at least make an argument that the fujo mischaracterization of Steph would stop. However she'd still, inevitably, be treated as a prop character/extension for someone more popular 😭 it also wouldn't make her appear in more books! Tim doesn't have many frequent appearances at the moment either! You can just say you like the couple and want them back together without acting like you have some kind of moral stance