#what is it with me and fruit seeds

[bugsoda]

[badcountryofficial]

Also every time I meet w her cos she's in the Inner Circle she dishes w me abt how the bosses think im doing and im somewhat of a teachers pet 😇

[lowcallyfruity]

I GOT POMEGRANATE!!!!!!

[primordialruin]

I don't think Lilith and Lucifer gave Eve the gift of knowledge/free will. Feels more like the gift of defiance. Knowing good and evil are experiences you either live through and/or give to someone else, which is a knowledge that is earned rather than learned about. You can be aware of the vilest things from just hearing about it, but if you don't have an inner experience that relates in the tiniest way to the pain within another in order to compare it to, then why would it have an impact on you? There's also the caveat where you will subconsciously eliminate relatability due to traumatic experiences which can block empathy, or in the case of those who are born with low levels of affective empathy, that can also pose a challenge. (Cognitive empathy can be learned tho) Caveats aside, if I don't know what negativity feels like, how am I expected to empathize? If I don't have a frame of reference for frustration, my response/reaction will be at best dulled and detached when I learn about an evil deed. Compassion can be built, but that's a social emotion meant to build and maintain networks. And frankly, compassion can easily exist without empathy. There is this thing called loving kindness in Buddhism that encompasses it.

When it comes to defiance, you are enabling yourself to commit an act against something, someone or yourself. It creates polarity and a ripple effect that I believe continues to echo on Earth through humans committing defiant acts all the time UNLESS there is a big enough counterforce to stop it. I believe it takes great inner strength to genuinely forgive something and move onto better pastures with or without the source that has created pain, though you have to be careful not to fall into apathy and numbness. Forgiveness isn't about dulling yourself to remove the pain. Forgiveness is finding worth in investing your energy into something that brings you a better life experience. It's a new type of emotional reality that you are developing in which the hurtful baggage of the past can't coexist anymore, so you let it go. Like, say a friend hurt you, but you find worth in rebuilding a friendship with them because they've done the work to prove themselves a reliable connection. Of course you can also forgive and move on without them. Both are good as long as the hurt was processed properly to be released. Now that's a mild example because atrocities are not on the same level as a broken friendship. The latter come and go and some return, while the former is extremely complex to move on from, but not impossible. Cases of it exist. They're probably unpopular, but they exist.

Now, defiance can also be a good thing depending on the context. Such as, defying a tyrant's system of oppression, but once again - that's still an act of evil because you cannot have good without it. Good cannot exist without polarity unfortunately. The good you do onto someone is evil to someone else and vice versa. That's where consideration and discernment comes into place. Consequences reach everyone one way or another... Black and white melts together, forming various shades of grey. Think of the spider metaphor - what is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.

But back to defiance. What is defiance if not a type of sabotage? You defy someone's right to safety by jeopardizing it to meet your needs. That's what evil is. It comes from unreliability which is what I feel has made the whole thing blow up with Lucifer's dangerous ideas that defy Heaven's reliable order, Lilith's defiance in the face of authority and her enabling Lucifer to be as dangerous as he wanted to be, and them enabling & inviting Eve to commit an act of defiance too. It's the dichotomy that was the evil that created Hell.

[playingplayer2]

Childhood shenanigans and acts of assholery of mine include:

Vicious Mockery of a teenage boy (our neighbor) who egged our house with his friend while they were cleaning the wall off (punishment decided on and approved of by the adults). I kept going past them on my little baby tricycle (I was maybe 4? 5? I was under 6) and making disparaging comments all the while. Bro looked like he was gonna pop a blood vessel before my mother noticed and shoo-ed me and my sibling away.

Around the same age I spent, like, at least an hour, maybe two, pestering this guy, a bit younger than my parents, at some get together my parents went to w/ their friends (and their friend's friends, of which, this poor dude was). I think I definitely made him seriously consider ever having kids because I was the embodiment of asking "why" and "unwitting adult who had just agreed to be my storytime audience" at that age, poor man was not doing well by the end. I think he may have been the only adult there completely unfamiliar with me, so in my little head he was akin to blood in the water for a shark or smth.

Had whole ass escape plans, down to the minute detail of exactly whose yards to cut through, where to use the back alleyways, and where to use the main streets in case of emergencies (kick-started by my father being an abusive fuck, cemented by our house being broken into one day while said abusive fuck was at work and we (mother, sibling, and me) were at said house). Alas police officers really do tend to poke holes into 7 year olds plans by virtue of longer legs and a willingness to assault small children. (There was a house about two blocks down (veeeeeery long street with multiple intersections) with, like, at least 4 cats and that was the end goal, alas.)

Speaking of seven year olds, clearly, the obvious answer to adults hurting you via enabling an abusive father is absolutely to make snow balled filled with rocks and ice and aiming for the face. I'd know, I did that. Unfortunately a 10-15 foot distance might be a bit of a feat at that age.

Also tricking a class of 9-10 year olds into bowing to a dragon tapestry in the hallway because they Won't Stop Bullying You is always funny, especially when you're the only one in the class who'd know if you're lying or not. (Being Chinese does not, in fact, mean you need to bow to every dragon you see as a sign of respect for the gods, but it sure was funny, and no, the dragon will not curse you for forgetting to bow.)

Very pointedly asking another kid about her crush on one of our classmates a la interview style at lunch because she'd done something similar to me a week prior. (She came up to me and told me it was "for an interview," before asking me point blank "how does it feel that no one wants to play with you any more since so-and-so came back to this school?" Before kind of leading the whole excluding-me-from-everything bit. Which. Was fun... So like a week later after we found out that her crush and friend would be moving states over the summer, I asked her at lunch if she was "ever going to tell blah-blah-blah that she liked him." At lunch. With our whole 3rd grade class. It wasn't my nicest move, but also literally everyone knew, including her crush/friend. But we were also all 9 or 10. So. Yeah.

In conclusion, I was a little shithead.

[bunny-jpeg]

john price would trap you with a baby. no questions asked. he knew the years were catching up to him. he knew that wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't pass on the price genes.

he felt bad when he masturbated, felt like he was wasting his boys. spurts of hot cum down his large shaft wishing that it was inside a pretty little things smaller cunt. his hand was too rough even with lubrication. he needed something with supple flesh that he could sink his teeth into and a wet pussy to stuff full. he wanted to feel himself impregnating someone.

that was where you came in.

you felt amazing, sex with you was something else. the way you were like a bunny when you rode his cock. you bounced on him, not slowing down until he wrung at least three orgasms out of you. he found it endearing that you could take him. and while cowgirl was fun and missionary felt classic.

if price wanted to get you pregnant then, he knew that doggy style would be the best course of action. sadly, that position was a little more difficult given your size difference. price the bear and his little cub, those weren't just terms of endearment. he was burly, hairy, but you were so much shorter that he couldn't easily slip into you. but things could always be modified.

he smothered you under him as you laid on the bed with your legs spread and price was on top of you with his cock invading your slick entrance. the feeling was different and the weight on top of you only added to the pleasure.

his mind was focused, as he worked himself into you. he slid in easily, little resistance from you. your pussy was greedy for him, not that price could blame you. you were just so perfect for him. he shaped you into the perfect thing for him. you were his angel, the sweetest fruit, the woman he wanted to carry his child. if you liked it or not.

thoughts of you dark puffy nipples, the waddle in your step, the complaints of back pain. how your body changed because of him, he marked you in a way that no other man could. price boys grew strong and were a handful both in the womb and out. hungry boys too, but price would happily massage your fat tits to make sure there was more than enough milk for his boys. might have a little taste himself, see what all the fuss was. the heavy milk on his tongue as he fucked his pretty wife.

no need to go out and find a job. price's got enough to make sure that your wallet and your womb were packed full. no need to worry your little head, just make sure the babies are taken care of and price will do all the thinking in the relationship. he knew your dream was to see your diploma on the wall, but he thought that a family photo would be much better.

hard to complete your degree when your pregnant belly doesn't fit in the lecture hall seat or it was feeding time for john jr. there was nowhere for you to nurse his hefty son and you'd in the end miss too much class because price would be keeping you at home to start on the next one.

"that's it, doll. that's my girl. she suckin' me right in. she know what she wants and she's takin' it. made just for, huh, petal?" he growled as he pressed into you further, his cock didn't slip out. he fucked you feverishly.

he felt you tremble as you came not once, but twice, back to back. price continued to fuck you, ruin your pretty little folds and let him feel as much as he could of your sweet sex. you felt amazing, only pussy price would want. he fucked you roughly with his hands pressed into the covers on either side of your head. you were too blissed out by the time he finished inside of you that you didn't even ask for him to pull out.

a good wife took every drop.

he soon after pulled his cock out, the sight of his cum sticking to your slick pussy lips with most of his seed inside of you. made his cock peek at attention once more. "there she is." he purred, "messy girl." he tipped your hips up and held them in his large hands. he dipped between your legs and played with your pussy. something to distract you while his cum slid into the back of your pussy.

now be good, and get pregnant <3

a/n: i don't know what came over me... i'm sorry

[pitstain]

the downside of getting my life together is i feel like a pathetic worthless dog constantly begging for a treat

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

More thoughts about Lion!Mydei: He takes reader home and provides her with food, love, a safe place and protects her from the others predator. Then when the night comes, he will keep breeding and breeding her all over again until she’s nothing but a dumb cockdrunk little rabbit ><

✧ tws : nsfw/smut, breeding kink, size kink/difference, multiple of rounds, c*ckdrunk reader, overstimulation, mating/possessive behaviour, marking (biting & claiming), claws & fangs, c*mflation, mild dumbification and degradation ( mydei calls you dumb).

The first time Mydei found you, you were trembling, small and fragile, a soft little bunny lost in a world far too dangerous for you. He had been watching, waiting, his golden eyes locked onto you as you struggled to find shelter. A weak, defenseless thing like you wouldn’t last long—not with predators lurking in the shadows, waiting to sink their teeth into your delicate flesh.

But Mydei got to you first.

He took you home, carried you in his strong arms, his powerful frame making you feel even smaller. His den was warm, hidden deep within the cliffs where no one could reach you. The moment he placed you inside, you knew you weren’t leaving. You belonged to him now.

And he took care of you.

Every day, he brought you food—the sweetest fruits, the softest greens, everything you needed to stay healthy and satisfied. He kept you wrapped in his warmth, his massive body curled around you, shielding you from the outside world. No harm would ever come to you, not while he was here. No one would ever touch you—not when you were his.

But when the sun dipped below the horizon, when night fell and the world grew quiet, Mydei’s patience snapped.

You barely had time to react before you were on your back, your mate looming over you, his sharp claws gripping your hips as he spread you open beneath him. His golden eyes burned with hunger, his strong body pressing you down, trapping you under his sheer size.

“So soft,” he murmured, dragging his sharp teeth along your neck, marking you with gentle bites. “So weak. My little bunny… what would you do without me?”

You gasped, your body trembling as he pushed inside—stretching you, filling you too deep, making you feel so small, so helpless beneath him. He didn’t wait, didn’t give you a chance to adjust. He never did.

Mydei was starved for you.

His cock bullied its way into your tight, wet heat, forcing you to take every inch, to mold around his size as he fucked you into the nest of soft leaves and furs he had prepared just for you. His growls rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin as he pounded into you, forcing your body to accept all of him.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his claws dragging down your waist, gripping you like he would never let you go. “So small, so weak—yet you take my cock so perfectly. My perfect little mate.”

“Nn—hnn, lion, ‘m feelin’ funny.”

Your thoughts were slipping, your body melting under the relentless pleasure. Mydei had already filled you up so many times tonight, his hot seed dripping from your swollen cunt, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Not until you were bred.

Not until your belly was swollen with his cubs, proof that you belonged to him in every way. Your tongue lolled out, you big fluffy ears twitching, as your brain became even more mush.

Your moans were nothing but broken little noises, your legs trembling as he fucked you into dumb, mindless bliss. Your body was his to ruin, his to fill, and he wouldn’t stop—not until you were nothing but a cockdrunk little bunny, too full of his cum to think, too weak to move.

“D-Don’—ohhhh, lio-lionyyy, s’ too much—!”

“Shh, my little bunny,” he purred, his voice dripping with possessive hunger. “Just let me breed you. That’s all you need to do.”

And with another deep thrust, he did.

Your body ached.

Your legs trembled, spread wide as Mydei’s thick cock stretched your pussy all over again, filling you too deep, hitting a spot that made your mind melt into nothing but hot, needy pleasure. His claws pressed into your hips, holding you still as he rutted into you, forcing your tight little hole to take everything he gave.

“Such a good little bunny,” he groaned, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “You were made for this—made to take my cock, made to be bred.”

Your head lolled to the side, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your eyes rolled back. You couldn’t think anymore, not with how good he felt, how full you were. His cock stretched you to the limit, stuffing you over and over, making sure you felt nothing but him. Your dumb little brain melted into nothing but pleasure.

His pace was brutal, his heavy balls slapping against your sticky, messy pussy, already so swollen from how many times he had filled you tonight. You had lost count of how many times he had bred you, how many times he had pushed his thick cum inside, but Mydei didn’t care.

It wasn’t enough

It would never be enough.

One of his big hands slid down your belly, pressing down just as he thrust deep, making you cry out at how full you were. His cock twitched inside you, buried so far that you could feel the bulge in your stomach.

“Feel that?” he purred, his sharp teeth dragging over your shoulder before he bit down, claiming you all over again. “That’s me. That’s my cock inside your pretty little pussy, making sure you’re stuffed full of my seed.”

You let out a broken whimper, your body twitching as pleasure surged through you, as your clit throbbed from the overwhelming sensation. Mydei loved it—loved how dumb you got when he fucked you like this, loved the way your pussy clenched around him, trying to milk him for more.

“My dumb little bunny,” he chuckled, his voice full of pride as he dragged a rough finger down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. “All cockdrunk and needy, aren’t you? You don’t even care anymore—just want my cum, want me to breed you until you’re too full to move.”

You screamed when he rubbed your clit harder, sending you into another orgasm, your pussy tightening around him as you came. But Mydei didn’t stop—he never stopped.

His cock throbbed, his thrusts turning messy as he growled against your skin, his grip tightening as he bred you all over again.

“Take it,” he groaned, his pace turning desperate as his cock pulsed inside you. “Take all of it, little bunny—take my seed like the perfect mate you are.”

And when he spilled inside you—hot, thick ropes of cum flooding your pussy, filling you so deep—he didn’t pull out. He just held you close, rolling his hips slowly, making sure every drop stayed inside.

You were too weak to move, too cockdrunk to do anything but let him keep you there, plugged full of his cum, his cock still hard inside you.

And Mydei? He smirked, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead.

“You’re not done yet, little bunny,” he murmured, rolling his hips just enough to make you whimper. “We’re going all night.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[seumyo]

pregnancy cravings with miya atsumu.

Pregnancy cravings never really made sense to Atsumu. Then again, he never got to the part of anatomy and physiology when he was studying physical therapy before he decided to go pro as a volleyball player.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t supportive; no, he prided himself on being a great husband. And now, with you, his wife, pregnant with your first child, he was determined to be the most supportive, loving, and accommodating partner ever.

Nothing was going to stand in his way—not distance, not logic, and certainly not impossible cravings.

It started simple. Like it always did.

You wanted a specific pastry from a bakery on the other side of Japan? Done. He booked the fastest delivery service he could find, and when that wasn’t an option, he flew there himself, picked it up, and brought it back.

Talk about rich.

Homemade food? Good thing Osamu had drilled the basics of cooking into him, though he still got yelled at by his twin when he accidentally burned rice. But hey, effort counted, right?

Then, the cravings started getting weird.

You’re sitting on the couch with a blanket over your lap when you look up at him with serious eyes. “I want Osamu’s cooking.”

Atsumu blinked. “Alright, I can ask him—”

“But I don’t want to eat it. You eat it.”

He frowned, confused.

“Huh? Ya want me to eat ‘Samu’s cookin’?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Atsumu scratched his head, wondering if this was some kind of test. “And that’s gonna make ya feel better?”

“Yes.”

“… Even if ya don’ eat it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Atsumu blinked. “That doesn’t make no sense.”

“Atsumu, please don’t question me.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Osamu. “Oi, ‘Samu, I need ya to cook somethin’—no, not for [Name]—for me.” There was silence on the other end before Osamu sighed heavily and reluctantly agreed.

That night, Atsumu sat at the dining table, stuffing his face with his brother’s food while you sat across from him, smiling in satisfaction as you watched. Osamu just did his part as a supportive brother for his twin.

The next day was even worse.

“A seedless mango,” you murmured, rubbing your belly.

...

“A what?”

“A seedless mango. I want it.”

“… [Name], sweetheart, baby, I love ya, but that don’t exist.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I want it.”

Atsumu groaned. “Where am I gonna get a seedless mango?”

“Figure it out, please?”

He spent hours searching online, calling fruit vendors, and even asking Osamu if his suppliers had some secret black market seedless mango (Osamu asked him if a volleyball that was going 120 km/h hit his head).

No luck.

In the end, Atsumu cut up a normal mango, carefully removed every trace of the seed, and handed it to you with a hopeful grin.

You took one look at it and frowned.

“It’s not the same.”

Atsumu wanted to cry.

-

“I need you to wear a face mask.”

Atsumu blinked at you from your bed. “Huh? Why?”

You huffed quietly, fidgeting with the sheets. “Because your face is annoying.”

Atsumu gasped, hand clutching his chest. “My face?! The one ya love so much?!”

“Yes.”

“The one ya vowed to look at forever in sickness and in health?!”

“Yes.”

“The one ya called ‘beautiful’ when I asked ya if I was hotter than ‘Samu?!”

“I love you, but right now, your face is irritating me.”

Atsumu stared, utterly betrayed, before sighing in defeat. He got up, went to the closet, grabbed one of the disposable masks he’d bought during flu season, and put it on.

“There. Happy now?”

You smiled sweetly. “Very.”

Atsumu flopped onto the bed with a groan, pulling the blanket over himself. As he lay there, sulking, you scooted closer and rested your head on his chest.

“I love you, you know that?” you murmured.

He grumbled. “Ya sure? Feels like ya hate me sometimes.”

You chuckled. “No, I love you. My hormones just don’t.”

He sighed. “Yer so lucky I love ya more than life.”

“I know. Pregnancy is so weird.”

And the worst has yet to come.

-

Atsumu should be asleep by now, but no, he had to be individually popping popcorn. One kernel at a time, as per your request.

He initially told you, “Yer kiddin’.”

You were not.

And that was how Atsumu found himself in the kitchen at three in the morning, painstakingly popping one kernel at a time in a tiny pan. Every time he accidentally popped more than one, you, who were sitting on a stool with your hands on your belly, would click your tongue disapprovingly.

“You put in two, Atsumu.”

“This is torture,” he grumbled, but he kept going.

-

“I want ice cream,” you said.

Atsumu perked up. “Oh, easy. What flavor?”

“I don’t know.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Uh… okay. I can get a few different kinds?”

“I need to taste them all.”

Atsumu frowned. “Like… all the flavors?”

“Yes.”

“… Babe, there are like fifty flavors at the ice cream shop.”

You nodded. “And I need to taste all of them before I decide which one I want.”

Atsumu let out a long, suffering sigh, but being the devoted husband he was, he marched straight to the ice cream parlor and ordered a ridiculous amount of sample cups. The poor employee stared at him in disbelief.

“You… want every flavor?”

“Yeah.”

“Every single one?”

“Yeah.”

“Sir, that’s—”

“My wife is pregnant, and if I don’t do this, I might not make it to the end of the week.”

The employee, upon hearing this, immediately started getting to work.

When Atsumu got home, you took one spoonful of each, nodded, and, after going through every single cup, announced:

“I don’t want ice cream anymore.”

Atsumu fell to his knees. Defeated.

-

“I need you to stand in the corner for a while.”

Atsumu looked up from his phone, confused. “Huh?”

“The corner. Stand there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like you should.”

Atsumu squinted. “Babe, are ya makin’ me into a damn decoration?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Atsumu sighed but did it anyway. He stood in the corner of your living room for a full ten minutes while you sat on the couch, happily watching TV. At some point, Osamu FaceTimed him, took one look at the scene, and hung up.

-

The next day, you called him while he was at practice, which was rare in itself because you did just leave messages whenever you knew he was practicing.

“Babe,” you said in a tone that made his stomach drop.

“… Yeah?”

“I need you to bring me a cheeseburger.”

He let out a relieved laugh, wiping the sweat off his brow. “That’s easy! I’ll grab ya one on my way ho—“

“But replace the buns with pancakes.”

Atsumu froze. “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“I dunno if I did, sweetheart.”

“Pancakes. Instead of buns. Oh, and I want honey to go with it.”

Atsumu nearly dropped his phone.

“Yer messin’ with me.”

“I’m really not.”

And you weren’t. That evening, he stood in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with the precision of a professional chef before assembling the most unholy creation he’d ever laid eyes on—a cheeseburger with pancake buns, honey drizzled over the meat.

You took a bite and hummed softly. “Oh my god, this is better than sex.”

Atsumu, who had spent hours perfecting his technique in the bedroom, felt personally offended by that.

-

“Atsumu,” you murmur. “I need you to switch sides of the bed with me.”

He sighed. “No.”

“Atsumu.”

“[Name], baby, darlin’—I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because my side is closer to the door in case of an intruder.”

You chuckled quietly. “Tsumu, please. I need to sleep on that side.”

Atsumu stared at you, conflicted. He had never—not once—slept on the other side. It was unnatural. Wrong. It went against the very foundations of your marriage.

But you were looking at him with those tired, hormonal, pleading eyes. And he was sure you’d tell him you could barely see your feet now and often experience heartburn, all because of his unborn baby.

With a heavy sigh, Atsumu switched sides with you.

“You’re a good husband,” you whispered, patting his cheek.

Atsumu, lying in the unfamiliar position, staring at the wrong wall, whispered, “I’m a broken man.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

An analysis of the straw hats’ devil fruits! I just think its cool how they’re all based around being human :) This is meant to be a part two of this analysis of this Mera Mera no mi I made a little bit ago.

Thanks so much to @badly-drawn-doflamingo for writing all this with me, they’re so much more eloquent than I am, thank you so much🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Closer pictures and transcription of the text in keep reading

Hana Hana no Mi Flowers bloom under certain conditions, be it weather, sun or care, and the same can be said for humans. What conditions did it take you to bloom, tears, time or the sun that laughs about you?

Hito Hito no Mi Do we get to choose when humanity blossoms within us, or do memory and choiceful guidance allow us the chance to walk, to run, to flourish as man.

Yomi Yomi no Mi: A chance at life through death, allowing that chance demise to be the seeding place for a continuing promise. Does the hoary earth need more than a body to revive the soul, or should sunlight come by its side?

Nika The heartbeat that carries your dreams beside it’s own humanity creates a hopeful beat. A drumming sensation that allows these two ideals to dance together, discordant like a ball of lightening, snapping and sparking in place. These conduits create the building desire of liberation, opening the heart’s windows to the sun above. What happens when the sun itself becomes filled with that very human need of liberation, when its flames begin to cast new light on our faces.. All you can do is laugh!

[oceantornadoo]

persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark

—

it started with fruit.

you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.

he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.

he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.

and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.

a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.

three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.

stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”

and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.

when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.

“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Helloooo! This is my first time requesting something like this so im super nervous .. but do you think you could write something along the lines of madara niece getting married of to him and them consummating (getting freaky deaky) the wedding? Its okay if not, i love your work! ^_^

tw: incest, uncle/niece, noncon, forced marriage, age difference, misogyny, breeding, size difference, cumflation

All characters depicted are 18+

Madara doesn't care about romance in the slightest, much less marriage. He can appreciate taking a woman's body as a spoil of war, but other than that he couldn't care less about such tedious distractions such as women. But as little thought as he puts into the matter, the fact remains that Madara will need an heir soon as head of the Uchiha Clan, and there is only one suitable candidate for birthing his sons.

Madara isn't incredibly close with his niece, he doesn't hate her, but he isn't exactly a doting uncle either. Most of his memories of his niece are of her as a small and meek thing, hiding behind her father Izuna's leg and clinging to her mother's skirt, but now that she's grown older, she has become an attractive young woman, the spitting image of her late father, his precious younger brother, so Madara decides to kill two birds with one stone.

Forcing her hand in marriage is almost top easy, the girl's mother has been in disarray since her husband's death, so the woman sees her only daughter getting married as a good thing for the clan. Even if Madara is the girl's uncle, he is without a doubt the most suitable male for her out of every man in the Uchiha clan, or at least that's the point he'll hammer in.

His niece isn't terribly happy when she receives the news that she'll be getting married, what's worse is that she gets this shocking news at the very last minute, as Madara doesn't even think to tell her about their unconventional 'engagement' until the very day right before their so-called wedding, and he definitely won't be sympathetic to her hysterical woman tears.

"Enough or your shrieking, girl. I've already made my decision and it is final. If you can't even do something as simple as rearing a few children for our clan, then you don't deserve to be called an Uchiha."

The wedding isn't exactly a large one, it'd just the two of them, not even the mother is allowed to attend her own daughter's 'wedding', Madara doesn't need two crying women ruining his special day. The wedding kimono suits his adorably homely niece rather well, but Madara thinks it would suit her much better on his bed, so suffice to say that the marriage ceremony will be rather quick.

Once it's finally done, Madara will practically drag her to his chambers, his cock unbearably hard beneath his wedding robe, he never thought he'd ever be so excited about sinking his cock into a wet cunt, but his niece's tight little Uchiha pussy is just too much of a tempting forbidden fruit for him to resist sinking his teeth into. While his main goal is reproduction, Madara will also be after his own pleasure during this act of consummation.

Madara's cock is long and thick, stretching her virgin walls before he then gets it halfway inside, and when he finally rams his thick meat into her, his leaking tip will immediately and mercilessly bash into her cervix like a battering ram, it would be next to impossible for her to get thoroughly knocked up due to how deeply Madara is penetrating her fertile cunt.

Madara doesn't take any half measures, he wants her swollen with his seed, with his offspring, and he's not going to achieve that by just one measly orgasm inside of her, he's going to cum inside of her as much as possible, fucking his superior seed into her until her flat tummy becomes bloated with the sheer amount of cum that Madara has dumped into her, and even then he's not going to stop enjoying his niece-wife for quite some time.

"Stupid girl, don't pass out on me just yet, weakling. It's only been four rounds and you're already whining and leaking? Pathetic. How did I get burdened with such a weak niece..?"

Madara's opinion on sex won't change too much even after having his way with his new 'wife', but now he's able reach a conclusion; he doesn't have any need for other women and their holes now, since his niece is the only set of holes Madara can imagine himself using for the foreseeable future.

[headspace-hotel]

Everything is interconnected in ways that are unimaginably complex. I see this in my reading and in my observations of nature. Because of this I am starting to think that plant sameness both contributes to and is contributed to by animal sameness, especially birds.

Lots of invasive plant species in my area are spread by birds. But which kinds of birds? I'm not sure if we know.

But the species of birds which feed upon the berries of the invasive species, are likely to be highly abundant in the areas overtaken by the invasive species, spreading a larger number of seeds of invasive species into the other areas those birds go. When the high density of invasive plants excludes other birds, it causes even greater density and exclusionary capacity of the invasive species, and even more favorable conditions to the birds that feed upon them.

So basically, when plant sameness reduces the number of animal species (and fungus species) that can survive, and when this plant sameness is repeatedly reinforced through management of the landscape, it can start to perpetuate itself through the animal sameness that was created

What this suggests to me, is that there may be a critical threshold of fragmentation and destruction of habitat where invasive species removal by itself is pointless or worse, because the larger-scale landscape has too much plant sameness and animal sameness for native species to come back.

What to do...? Maybe choose plantings for the restored area specifically for vigorous dispersal and high seed and fruit production?

Native, quasi-native and cultivated food plants could all be appropriate, because the goal is to attract the dispersers that cannot survive in the invasive species monoculture environment and redirect dispersers that previously relied on invasive species for food.

This facilitates dispersal of plants between the newly planted restoration and other habitat fragments that can support non-monocultured wildlife.

[scribblestatic]

Masterpost Next

I read this post by @/diushek and I have been inspired.

EDIT: IT'S THIS POST BY @deikshen, their username changed!

Their post and mine aren't really all that related save for parts of the premise, but still, I'm thankful for the inspiration so I'd like them to get attention.

--

Shen Yuan as a spider demon(?).

In his last life, since he had a lot of free time, he, of course, dove headfirst into webnovels. But, he also grew up fixing his little sister's toys and had found out that he enjoys sewing. He was rather sickly, so it wasn't like he had much else to do.

So, he learned how to fix dolls, then design clothes for dolls. Then, he designed and made a dress for his meimei to wear for a school play, and he's spiraled out of control since.

He especially went wild while reading PIDW. Airplane was so neglectful while describing clothes, so of course, he had to design what he thought they would look like!! And, if it just so happened people would spend money to buy his outfits for their professional make and relative historical accuracy, sure!

Then PIDW ends terribly, Shen Yuan writes his last hate post, and he essentially dies from rage (his already weak heart couldn't beat properly in the end).

And the next time he's aware of himself, he's sitting neatly in the center of a well-woven web.

He can't see very well, but he can feel vibrations all over the place. He'd thought to put on his glasses, but couldn't seem to...put them on. Somehow, he knew they weren't around.

He also knows that he's quite terribly hungry.

So, he doesn't think twice when he feels a vibration in his web and he crawls over to a struggling creature. He can feel the qi coming from it, whatever it is. But that doesn't matter for now. It's just food.

And he's hungry.

So he injected his prey and began to slurp up the remains.

This continues for an indeterminate amount of time. Making webs, catching and consuming prey, moving to new areas when he decided the area was getting too crowded or was unsuitable. The more plants he finds, the more he appreciates the environment, and he tends to stick around them longer until he must move.

A little ticking clock in the back of his head seems to tell him he should be dead. That his life was extending beyond its usual limits.

However, that wasn't really something he cared too much about. Instead, if he wasn't trying to sate his deep, nearly endless hunger, there wasn't much else he cared to do. Not even the thought of reproducing enticed him.

Though, a part of him was bored. If he had something to read, that would be nice, but he had nothing. So, he'd just have to mull over a story he remembers from somewhere, a hateful little thing that, despite all its faults and failures, drags back into his mind once more.

At least playing around with plants helped a bit, moving the seeds and testing the soil with thin limbs and senses beyond anything a human has.

Some time later, he finds a little cavern with strong qi. He decides that would be nice to stay in since the plants around it are plentiful and full of energy, and he makes it his home. He connects the various webs he makes to his home web, able to feel the pull and location of each web to hunt, capture, and take it back to a much safer, more secure place.

He finds his mind becoming a bit clearer the longer he stays there. Eventually, he even finds that his eyesight is getting better as well. Although he was perfectly fine feeling through vibrations, the colors around him are quite interesting as well.

Eventually, one day, he feels something pull on one of his webs. As usual, he goes out to wrap it up. But, as he approaches his prey, it calls out to him.

"Wait! Wait! Please spare me!!"

Shen Yuan pauses. If he tries to focus his vision a bit...the form of this prey looks a bit human, doesn't it? Huh. When did humans get so small? He could've sworn they were bigger before.

"Please, I just... I just wanted the fruit!!"

The fruit...ah. Yes, he'd included a few nearby trees in his web at some point. Hadn't they just been little branches? Hm. Time sure does fly.

Shen Yuan focuses his blurry vision on the being in his web. Indeed, it seems to be human. A man, if he recalls...yes. A grown human male.

Humans... He thinks of them neutrally. Humans are not exclusively good or evil, but some tend to act more one way or another. In the end, they're just another animal trying to survive and live well.

However, that shouldn't come at the expense of stealing his fruit! He eats those because they're tasty! He brought the seeds with him when he moved from his last place and he planted them himself. They're his plants...his trees! No one else had the right to take from it.

Apparently, he lets some of this thought out, a whithery, faint hiss singing from between his fangs.

"Thieeeef..."

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please, let me go, and I won't come here ever again!"

Hmmh. Not likely. If a human came this far, then it was possible there was some sort of issue with their own food. Couldn't the humans tell that he owned this area? Well...he did hide his webs well so prey could fall into his traps.

Even so, he doesn't think there's a village or anything close to this place, so this human was likely desperate enough to come out and pursue the fruit from his trees to eat. What was more likely was that the human would wail about his presence and bring trouble back with him.

So, he had a few options.

1. Release the human foolishly and wait for them to encroach on his domain.

2. Eat the human, then wait to see if anyone would come looking for him. This would possibly lead to more problems.

3. Let the human take a fruit, to make them indebted to him...but he can't just do that out of kindness. Humans could try to take advantage of him, or maybe hunt him anyway.

4...

Equivalent exchange. Bartering. If he sets this up as something where he and the humans mutually benefit while keeping the humans indebted to him, perhaps they would be less likely to see him negatively. They would also maintain a healthy fear of him.

Goodness, he was coming up with such good ideas just from encountering a single human. Perhaps associating with them a little wouldn't be so bad.

"...Free you. Fruit...but. Paaaay..."

The man trembled in his web. It was getting rather difficult to resist eating him. Such squirming enticed his senses.

"P-Pay? Pay how??"

"...Stoooory."

The man stumbles and mutters, but eventually, he starts telling a story from his village. It's just some sort of child's tale.

Even so, it's not boring.

"Hmm... Poor quality..."

The man starts pleading again as he approaches, but his pleas quiet as he, instead of wrapping him up, starts untangling the human.

"The main character...no personalityyy. Milquetoast. The princess. Even more flat. No motivation. Cookie-cutter character. The bear. Foolish. No protective instiiiinct. Elementary. 2/10."

He ends his critique while placing a webbed bag of fruit in the man's hands.

"Begone."

The human obeys.

And just as Shen Yuan expected, that same web triggers just a few days later.

This time, it's a human female. She's not as tangled in the web as the man was, having stopped fighting as much early on.

She has two heartbeats, but is terribly thin. The human male had been quite thin as well. Why?

"Lord Spider, this lowly woman is sorry... Please, may this one...tell you a story?"

"Hmm..."

Shen Yuan settles down, curling his limbs close, and waits.

She tells a story that's better than the one the male told him. Her heart skips and jumps at points, especially when the main character—a woman this time—experiences hardship. This is quite clearly a story close to her heart.

It's full off happiness and grief. A marriage collapsing from the death of her lover, and a family who refused to support her for being barren. She fights and fights and fights, and carves a place for herself. Just when she thinks she's found happiness, a tragedy strikes. A famine. And she, having exhausted everything she had, dies.

"Hmm... Interesting. Bold protagonist. Hardyyyy. Faces a dogfight world. Should ask for heeeelp. Husband. Tragic. Death too soooon. Loved the main character. Left her behind. Family. Cruuuuel. Mindless. Women are not jusssst for breeding.

"Hmm. 7/10. Too sad, realistic still."

He adds some grasses with wisps of qi coming from it to her bundle.

"What is this?" she asks.

"For the baaaaaby."

She seems to startle at that, though he's not sure why.

"...Thanking Lord Spider."

She leaves before he has to tell her to go.

...

After that, humans become a regular enough visitor that he leaves a string with leaves on the end for them to call for him. Surely, they're stuck getting caught in his webs. More importantly, he's tired of having to rearrange them every time. They really leave his webs a tangled mess.

As the season warms further, they come with more stories. Many are quite terrible and not worth his time. He gives them fruit regardless, because at least they have staved off his boredom.

They've decided on calling him Lulin Zhizhu (绿林之主 - lǜlín zhī zhǔ - Lord of the Green Forest). Or, simply, Zhizhu.

Apparently, his webs were keeping the villagers safe? The food he'd been catching had a taste for human flesh (not that he didn't, but still), so by eating, he had been helping them without intending to. That apparently made him more reverent to them, and they put more effort into their stories based on how he rated them.

Fan Zhenzhen (范蓁蓁 - Fàn Zhēnzhēn), the second human who told him a story, quickly became one of his favorites. She told the best stories, real ones, that brought back emotions he felt had been taken over by instinct for a long while. He wouldn't say he treated her better, but he did make sure to cultivate more of the grass for the child growing within her.

The humans steadily grew stronger and meatier...perhaps tastier, but he'd lose his stories if he ate them. Eventually, whatever blight affected their village abated a bit, and they could once again start growing their own food.

Instead of abandoning him, they brought him some of the food as an offering.

"Hmm...famine," he murmured, his way of speech having improved from socializing. "The sickness. Still in the fields."

"Sickness?" a farmer asked.

"Yes. The plants, victim to illness. They will not grow well." He leaves for a moment to get something. It seems they learned his habits, as they're still waiting when he returns. He drops another plant he cultivated within the realm of his webs. "Crush these. Spread them. The fields and the water."

The farmer and his offspring bow low to the ground. "Thanking Zhizhu for his wisdom!"

The offerings they bring after that show markable improvement, and the name they gave him sticks even harder.

Of course, they continue to tell him stories, as that's the most important thing they can give him. He becomes quite settled with hearing them speak and starts to absentmindedly weave little things related to the stories they tell him.

At this, Fan Zhenzhen approaches with another idea, her stomach rounding out with child.

"Zhizhu, this lowly one apologizes for being impertent. As the days grow colder, this feeble woman fears the chill of winter more than the hunger of famine. For her next story, may she instead receive some of your silk?"

"Silk...for clothes."

"Yes, if this lowly one may ask of Zhizhu."

"Hmm... Tell the story."

So she does. As with the others, it too delves into the life of the main character, who is now a powerful figure in her village for her ability to weave. Her weaving helped the villagers trust the nearby forest god, who was frightening but gracious, wild yet magnanimous. She talks about how the character was once sold by her family to be a maid elsewhere, and how she's learned to survive and come up to her current position.

As she does, Shen Yuan eyes her. The vibrations from her voice gives him a good view of her body and shape. He unconsciously, mindlessly, weaves a coat for her.

It's thin. Surely not enough to stave off winter's chill. So, when she finishes and he gives his rating, he gives her both the thread she requested and the thin coat.

It is, according to her, magnificently beautiful. In turn, Shen Yuan can't help but feel a little puff of pride in his abdomen.

---

Ah...this is getting longer than I meant lol

I'll make another post soon.

[ozzgin]

IM SORRY, but I need a whole smut fanfic with yandere ASMRtist where he just straight up fucks reader and posts it, and people like it

Even better if it was an accident! Although let me add a little disclaimer that this concept turned more BDSM-oriented than I initially planned, but it has no correlation whatsoever to ASMR. Just wanted to point it out because the community already struggles with the sexualization of content. The guy just happens to be kinky. Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, NSFW, BDSM themes (bondage, spanking, collaring, name-calling)

He’s doing his usual sound recording, yet today it a little different. You're particularly cheeky, kneeling before him, back arched and bottom up. The pillow is soaked with your drool, lips forcefully parted by a bit gag. You're a mess.

Today, he's particularly aroused by your hooded eyes and damp skin. No harm in taking a break from his work, is there? His hand lands another rough spank, followed by his fingers tracing across your privacy. It seems he isn't the only one terribly pent up.

He gives you a little encouraging jolt before clarifying with a spoken order: "Spread."

You obediently follow his instructions, eager to be touched by more than his hand. He grins at your visible excitement.

"My, what a greedy whore you're being today. You're still red and swollen from the spanking, are you sure you want me to do even more damage?"

He presses himself into you as if to prove his point, though the feeling of his throbbing erection really only makes matters worse. You nod desperately and groan.

Once he's done pounding the life out of you, he stands up nonchalantly and dusts off his hands, gazing at his masterpiece: you're sprawled onto the mattress, heaving, dripping with his seed. Another fruitful day of pleasing his Darling.

He quickly finishes the last retouches of the recorded ASMR session and uploads it to his channel, distracted by the thought of a potential second round.

"Don't get up", he demands from his chair. "I'm not done with you yet." Judging by your expression, however, it's not likely you had any other intention to begin with.

Later in the evening, he idly checks his phone, somewhat surprised by the sudden influx of views and comments.

"Wow, this is probably your longest video so far. You're spoiling us", someone writes.

"What's the stuff at the end? Sounds bizarrely wet, yet tingly", someone else wonders.

His smile abruptly pales as it dawns of him: he never stopped recording. In a moment of anger, he throws his phone into the nearest wall, and you stumble over, startled by the commotion.

Damn it! That was his special moment. He feels like he'd just fucked you before the masses. His precious time - meant to be savored - has been tainted by the ears of plebeians.

He marches towards the bedroom, pulling you after him by the little house collar you must wear inside. No matter, he tells himself frantically, he'll just have to redo it. He'll fuck you even better this time, and it'll be for him only.

[Yandere!ASMRtist Concept] | [More yandere works]

[starmaidengarden]

I would like to make a request! To tell you the truth, this is my first request, so I'm a little worried about it, because the explanation will be a little long. I have a headcanon that twst has an unusual way of declaring love, namely giving a pomegranate or half a pomegranate! I've read that in the underworld, pomegranates are the fruit of the dead in Greek mythology, and perhaps you know about the myth where Persephone ate a few pomegranate seeds, concluding a kind of marriage contract. But what if, in the twst world, this fruit is the fruit of lovers and it is very often given to declare love and our MC shares the twst character with him? It can be any character you want! If you don't like it, then it's okay, and I hope you won't feel burdened by my request! I hope the text came out clear, because I still use a translator.

Oh, I absolutely love your headcanon! I had a fun time writing this too!! I add more than one character, I couldn't decide on just one!! I hope I did a good job!

Context:

In Twst Wonderland, the pomegranate is an ancient fruit with magical significance, often referred to as the fruit of lovers. Offering half of a pomegranate is a sacred way to declare one's love. Each seed consumed represents a vow accepted, creating a magical connection that is not binding but resonant. This magic only awakens if the feelings are mutual.

Malleus

As you approach him beneath the vast, shimmering expanse of the night sky, the pomegranate cradled delicately in your hands, something shifts within him. The soft glow of the moonlight illuminates your offering, and he catches the unmistakable meaning behind it. His eyes widen in astonishment, and for a brief moment, he falls silent, the world around him fading into a distant hum. In that instant, he bears an uncanny resemblance to a cat—wide-eyed and still, attuned to a sense of wonder and curiosity.

“you wish to bind our hearts?” he asks, his voice tinged with hope and disbelief as if he is trying to grasp whether this is reality or a dream conjured by his longings.

You can see he is moved—more than you have likely ever witnessed in him before. His fingers hover above the ruby-red seeds, treating the fruit like a sacred relic.

As he plucks the first seed and tastes it, an ancient fae magic begins to stir in the air around you, a palpable warmth enveloping the space between your bodies. It is not a bond forged from chains or shackles, but rather golden threads of luminescence, soft and vibrant, gently wrapping around your hands as if sealing an unspoken pact.

He does not consume all the seeds; instead, he thoughtfully sets some aside. “So that I may continue to vow myself to you,” he declares, his voice steady yet filled with emotion, “again and again.” The commitment in his words hangs in the air, as resonant and timeless as the magic that swirls around you both, binding you in a moment beyond the ordinary.

Rook

He has always been captivated by the rich symbolism of the pomegranate, a fruit imbued with meaning and mystery. Each one celebrates its beauty and significance. In moments of quiet reflection, he often finds himself daydreaming of an ideal scenario in which someone presents him with this fruit.

When that moment finally arrives, and you offer him the pomegranate, he becomes utterly motionless—strikingly still for someone so accustomed to expressing himself through poetry and movement. The surprise washes over him, and he gasps softly, the weight of the moment settling in. "Mon ange…," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, "you bring me this fruit not as prey, but as a partner. A soulmate! Quelle beauté..."

As he takes the pomegranate into his hands, he is not in a rush. He insists on savoring each of the seeds one by one, pausing thoughtfully between each bite. "Each seed tastes like a different verse of your love," he describes, his eyes sparkling with wonder. His words linger in the air, turning the shared experience into a performance—an intimate routine that feels profoundly sacred.

In this delicate moment, he gazes into your eyes and tenderly calls you “mon cœur partagé,” which translates to “my shared heart.” It’s a phrase that encapsulates the deep connection he feels for you, as if the very act of sharing this fruit unites your souls.

Vil

Vil’s awareness of the symbolism surrounding the pomegranate is profound. He has seamlessly woven its significance into countless photoshoots and advertising campaigns, fully understanding its layered meaning. So when you handed it to him—without any dramatic flair, without any grand declarations—just a moment of quiet sincerity—it felt like time stood still.

He freezes, his gaze fixated on the fruit, a blend of astonishment and understanding flickering in his eyes. “You... do you even understand what this means?” he inquires, his tone steady yet tinged with an undercurrent of vulnerability. He doesn’t reach for it immediately, instead choosing to absorb the weight of the moment, his eyes darting from the pomegranate to your face.

a soft smile gradually spreads across his features, melting away the tension. “Then I accept,” he murmurs, his voice softer than it has ever been, as if he’s sharing a cherished secret. With reverent care, he delicately selects a single seed, lifting it as though it were a rare gem, and brings it to his lips. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste as if it holds the essence of something sacred. “Thank you… for this,” he breathes, the sincerity of his gratitude resonating deep within you.

Idia

You hand him the half-pomegranate, its vibrant red seeds glistening in the soft light, just as he’s half-lost in the glow of his screen, animatedly muttering about the latest dungeon drops in his game. The world around him fades momentarily as he focuses on leveling up, but at the gentle press of the fruit against his palm, he looks up, blinking in surprise. A flush spreads across his cheeks, turning a deeper shade of crimson.

“W-Wait—wait, wait, wait!” he stammers, his wide eyes darting between the pomegranate and your earnest expression. “Is this… that?” A warm smile tugs at your lips, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to break into laughter at his bewilderment.

"You want to bind your heart to mine? Me? The guy who only steps outside when his brother practically drags him into the light?" The doubt in his voice hangs in the air like the sound of a distant bell, echoing the disbelief swirling in his mind.

You remain silent, offering the fruit with a gentle nudge, encouraging him to take it. He swallows hard; his throat bobbing as he processes the moment, and then, hesitantly, he picks out one single, perfect seed. His fingers tremble as he holds it up, staring at it as if it might burst into flames at any moment.

With eyes closed, he pops the seed into his mouth, savoring it like a climactic moment in a long-awaited cutscene, and you catch a glimpse of his soul laid bare in that simple action. The silence stretches, filled with the promise of something new and beautiful.