#it still baffles me that I reached this many followers

[fragmentedblade]

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[villainbait]

Surprise Encounters

Pairing: None (Sylus x reader distantly implied) Rating: G Tags: coffee shop, secondhand embarrassment, canon sylus behavior, playful stalking, flirting, jealousy, crack, fluff Summary: Sylus stalks you to a new coffee shop in Linkon City, but it seems you two weren't the only ones who wanted to try it. Word Count: 1.1k

Someone was following you. 

It had been a long day at work and now there was the definitive sound of someone’s steps dogging yours as you approached the cafe. It wasn’t the one you usually enjoyed visiting, but you were in a hurry and going to duck in for a quick pick-me-up before heading out on yet another mission. Wanderer activity had been increasing lately, which left you exhausted most days so you were counting on this coffee to work miracles for your fatigue.  

Picking up the pace, you do your best to weave through the crowd and lose the person, happy to find you no longer hear the footsteps by the time you reach your destination. Your phone suddenly rings and you look down to find it’s Sylus. You don’t even bother answering it and reject the call. A text message accompanies the rejected call and you sigh in exasperation but before you can open it, you hear the dulcet tones of the current source of your annoyance behind you. 

“It’s not very nice to ignore a friend, kitten.” His voice is far too close to your ear and you pull away with a frown. Before you can retort, you see him glance at the cafe with a curious expression. 

“This isn’t your usual cafe, either.” 

“I’ve been busy,” you huff and look around nervously, before tugging on his sleeve and pulling him quickly into the cafe. The only reason you didn’t make a scene in public, you told yourself, was because you were worried your connection to the N109 Zone would be severed if Sylus was caught. Just because you wanted to punch him in his smug face sometimes didn’t mean you wanted to see him get hurt or worse. It still baffled you that the most wanted man in the world could simply chat with you on the street like this and not a single person knew. 

“What’s the hurry, sweetie?” he playfully murmurs as you march both of you up to the counter, but he’s more than happy to oblige as you both order. The baristas are charmed by Sylus but you don’t seem to notice, too busy bantering with him. 

“The hurry is that you seem nonchalant for a man in your situation.” 

“And what situation is that?” he replied smoothly, taking his card back from the blushing barista with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know,” you gesture vaguely as the two of you move to the end of the counter. You’re not sure if you want to lean away when Sylus puts his face close to yours but your pride won’t let you even if you did so you meet his gaze head on. “Oh? I don’t know that I do, so why don’t you say it?” He remarked, knowing that you wouldn’t give him away. At least not today, in this sunny little cafe where his defenses are low and there’s too many civilians. 

The little bell above the shop door jingles but you don’t notice it at first, your attention still focused on Sylus who hadn’t moved away despite his teasing. Still, with how he had leaned down you could see over his shoulder and you stopped breathing as a familiar face appears in your line of view. 

What was Zayne doing here? 

Sylus realizes mid-sentence you’re no longer paying him any attention and starts to look around and see what you’re gawking at. 

“No! Don’t turn around,” you hiss and jerk him closer to you, using his bigger body as a shield. He doesn’t mind that but his curiosity burns, one eyebrow raised. Opportunistic creature that he is, he slips an arm around your waist before you can protest.

“Why do you need me to hide you?” Sylus’s grin was anything but comforting. “Are you trying to avoid someone? Do I need to take care of it for you?”

The expression on your face must’ve been comical for Sylus chuckled. “You should see how you look right now. I want so badly to know who it is you’re hiding from.”

Zayne had made it to the counter now and you shifted to stay out of sight, still using Sylus to shield you if the other man looked over this way. The barista has the worst timing and offers your drinks at the same time Zayne steps towards the end of the counter. The two of you lock eyes. Time freezes. Zayne's gaze slowly slid from you to Sylus, whose arm was still slung low across your hips but it was too late for you to do anything but accept that. 

Sylus, meanwhile, doesn’t seem fazed and takes the cups one by one, handing yours to you and thanking the worker with a dazzling smile that makes her flustered and blush. “Hope you and your girlfriend have a great day!” she chirps cheerfully.

That immediately snapped you out of your shock and you turned with a disgusted frown. “I’m not-“

“Now, now there’s no need to be hurtful, sweetie.” Sylus interjects. “She's just trying to be nice. Besides,” he leans in close, his saccharine tone dropping an octave. “If you correct her, she might think she has a chance.” He swivels his cup to show you the number written cutely on the side of it and for some reason it makes you jealous and grumpy. 

Zayne’s order comes up quickly after and he inspects the number on his own cup before showing it the two of you. “Is this a new cup/service they perform here for every customer?” He remarks dryly, but there’s a hint of mischief in his expression. He shows the same number on the side of the cup and you have to hide a smile behind your hand. Sylus looks like he swallowed something sour and pulls out his phone. An awkward silence lingers and you almost wished a wanderer would appear in the cafe to save you from this situation. Still, you had to try to salvage the moment and you searched for something to say.

“Why don’t we sit down?” You try brightly and Sylus’s fingers dig into your hip but he doesn’t look up from whoever he’s texting. 

“Sure, and you can introduce me to your friend.” Zayne said calmly, but you’re panicking internally. “I thought I was your only friend, so I’m glad to see that isn’t true.” He was teasing you and you blushed. The two men turn to each other and Sylus tucks his phone away, business concluded. 

“Sylus.” He held out his hand. “Zayne.” They shake hands and you all find a small table to sit at.

They both focus their attention on you and you realize as your stomach churns nervously that this was going to be one interesting afternoon.

[fridayiminlcve]

what is your problem with tiktok or booktok and colleen hoover lmao its not that bad surely

the fact that it actively promotes overconsumerism, the way it sells books to you by just playing into already heavily milked out tropes with very specific character niches that are seen in every book nowadays and how the reading is just seen as something aesthetic or a part of the "it girl routine" maybe? if those are enough reasons for you?

does the fact that these books are the first things you see when you walk into a bookstore not bother you? when you ask someone for a book recommendation they'll follow it up with "its a romance slow burn enemies to lovers". it's always about the aesthetic of the book, how many lines can you take out of context and post as a compilation of your super cute romantic annotations page on instagram. no analyzing the book, no theories, no symbolism or meaningfulness at all. how people stand reading those kind of books and still feel any kind of emotions over these flat as hell books with no world or character building is genuinely baffling to me

no one seems to know about actual literature anymore, which not to sound like a boomer but i think its definitely true. there's always been trend cycles, i agree such as the harry potter craze from the 1990s to the 2000s and the dystopia hunger games/maze runner/divergent blast in the early 2010s but tiktok has just.. shortened these cycles so much. as a result, people like our darling colleen hoover whose written around 46 books since 2015 (according to google) try come up with as much fresh content as they can as quickly as possible for the readers (see overconsumption). the fact that this lady outsold the bible is not outstanding to me, its fucking concerning.

and after all that, the result is badly written books with characters who're about as dimensional as a piece of paper, overuse of tropes, read like they've been written by a toddler, toxic-ass relationships being romanticised, very unnecessary sex scenes and countless other things. seriously if i wanted to read about the kind of stories hoover tells i would just open a wattpad account.

not clowning on those who made the choice to read it. i'm trying to highlight some of the flaws i find in authors like colleen hoover, sjm, ali hazelwood, casey mcquinston. some of them might be good, i wouldn't know because i actively try and avoid them at all costs. also i am BEGGING u all who will have an objection to this post to reach out of your comfort zone and read something different like non-fiction or fantasy or one of the classics for once if you only read booktok like seriously it might be hard but just do it for the love of god!! if you're annoying on this i will block you by the way i don't care

[dufferpuffer]

In continuation of the 'pillow prince/ss/' topic.. Snape sex hcs? I remember you said it's basically impossible to drag him into bed but I'D TRY.

You're just spoiling me, aren'tcha? First Remus now Sev... Severus Snape is devoted to duty. Its the only thing holding him together. How often does he even go to bed…? A full-time teacher, a spy, a death eater, Dumbledore's dark little knight - He probably considers the time he spends marking 'rest enough'.

His self-esteem is dead. So dead he has come to terms with its corpse and uses it as protection. He's been teased his entire life for his looks. By his parents, by his schoolmates, by his teachers, by his cult, by his students... He's proud of how it has hardened him. It's become part of his ego: He's heard it all before - and now the words run off his oily feathers like raindrops.

Having someone say they think him anything less than hideous? Baffling. But while Remus would become a flustered mess... I think Severus would stages-of-grief it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression… Because his romantic, affectionate side is also a corpse. It died alongside his best friend and he's spent the last decade-and-a-half making sure it stays buried.

To bring it back? That will take a stubborn dedication that rivals his. It takes grit and damn near necromancy. He will fight back, too - because to raise it from the dead is to raise Lily along with it. That is the greatest hurdle: Best friend or love of his life - either way she was the only person he has been affectionate with. He will need to digest that. He hasn't worked through his grief yet, because it is a difficult thing to work through alone. …but he CAN reach Acceptance.

One step, one stage at a time - peeling down each layer of his onion, like an ogre... Things move slowly with Severus - and in the opposite order you might expect. I guess I will go through what a relationship would be like with Severus, in a sorta dot-point fanfic format:

First note: He is allergic to showing weakness - and what he considers a weakness can be... strange. Indulgence. Emotions, affection, touch, company - he has no time for that garbage. He is in control of himself, of his body, of his feelings, of his life. Meticulous, complete control. This man 'tops' exclusively**

He is ashamed of masturbation. It means he has lost control of his emotions - and it grinds against his ego like sandpaper. He almost never does it. Thinking about anyone in particular when doing it is an insult to them - and he hates feeling guilty. He keeps it simple and almost self-harmingly dry. He has more important things to be doing with his time than engaging with this weakness…

You make your interest in him clear. He goes through everything - he belittles and denies your feelings, he gets angry with you for bothering him, he asks you to stop saying such nonsense... and he gets frustrated that even when you've finally shut up, he is STILL dwelling on it. He spends so long just tossing things up, sorting through his grief, imagining it... so, SO sick of jerking off… …when the dam bursts - he fucks. If he is going to be spending all this time obsessing over these stupid feelings he may as well get something out of it. Only sex, though. Sex he is in control of. Clothes on, greedy, not pretty, not nice. 'Thats what you wanted from me, yes? Well you've gotten it. Happy?!?' ((He does not expect the answer to be 'yes'.))

He thinks one time was too many, and did it only to take it off his mind - and to stop having you bother him about it. But it is easier for you to get him to do it a second time. And then a third... fourth... The more times it happens - and nothing embarrassing or bad follows... well, if he has done it once, he may as well do it more, right…? You are evidently trustworthy. '…You may come to my chambers IF I call - at no other times. I am too busy to play silly games.' A casual physical relationship - to solve a problem of distraction and concentration. That's all.

He does start to call. Occasionally at first - and every time he almost shows surprise that you actually turn up. But he gets less and less surprised... and starts getting more and more needy. 'You're late. I sent for you half an hour ago. Do you think I am made of time?!' He doesn't even realize how needy he sounds, because this activity is now ingrained in his routine. He is used to it. And because he is used to it: He touches more. More clothes come off. But never his own. He has gone from 'hands-on-waist' fucking to caressing your naked body - slow rolls of his hips, making his own breathe shudder, enjoying every sensation.

One day his summons aren't replied to. At first he angry. How dare you. How DARE you waste his time!? The next time they are alone he snaps at you bitterly. 'Finally tired of me? Got your fill? Met a better man?' When the response is more along the lines of 'I was a bit ill' or 'I was out'... he realizes he has shown far too much of his hand. How embarrassing. He is speechless at his own foolishness. He showed an inch of vulnerability and expects to be raked through the coals for it. ...What he doesn't expect is acceptance, tenderness and respect.

He had forgotten that he wasn't the one to initiate this arrangement - that he was wanted. Desired. In his mind he had taken control: Everything happened when he wanted, where he wanted and in whichever way he wished. To be touched in a friendly way? To he apologized to - for being made to worry? To have make-up sex offered…? '…Yes. Alright.' Its the next layer peeled off. He starts listening to offers, enjoying being asked instead of being answered. It's still a casual affair - and yet seeing them talk to other people no longer makes his hackles raise in concern for his secrets. Running into them in the morning no longer makes his skin crawl with shame and embarrassment for the night before. He feels excited when they pay a visit in the midday, offering an impromptu meeting. It is oddly... comfortable.

Of course it can't always be sex in the midday. It is too much effort, takes too much time, energy and clean-up. It suits him fine when you jump on the chance to put him in your mouth. At first he is a little taken-aback - but it feels nice. He says nothing other than contented hums, but as you get better he groans and arcs his back a little. He doesn't care what happens when he finishes - swallow or not, as long as it is not a mess for him to clean up. …Well, he tries to be that callous about it… but it doesn't last long. There is a tenderness to the act he can't deny. It isn't the mutual-benefit fucking. This is a gift for him to enjoy. That realization settles and festers in him. It creates a soft feeling he doesn't recognize... and a desire not to owe you anything.

So, without much fanfare: he reciprocates. He gets you on his seat, or on his desk, and gets down on his knees... He is a little nervous about it - when was the last time he did this, if ever…? - But he has no need to be. He is a god with his mouth. It's his attention to detail. His devotion to getting things done thoroughly and properly - even this. What starts as an embarrassing action from the weakness of his heart turns into a strong pleasure for him. He LOVES oral. It isn't him losing control: it's him gaining it. Even when his hair is gripped and yanked, even if he is pulled close and suffocated a little on you - HE is making that happen. HE is making you do that. He never expected this to make him so happy, so hot. He never expected to undo the buttons of his high collar so his neck could move more easily, to unbutton and fold up his right sleeve so he could get his hands messy... To have enough fun to start saying some truly dirty things… 'That good, is it~?' 'My-! How delicate you are today!' 'Stop squirming. Too sensitive…? Just grit your teeth and bear it.' ...and he didn't expect to not be laughed at for such things.

He certainly didn't expect to get so into it that he kissed you to shut you up as you came. A shock to both of you… another wall crumbled. Turns out he likes that too. He starts initiating sexual activity with a kiss. He prefers kissing to talking. It is succinct and expressive. Walk into his office: as soon as the door is shut your back is pressed against it, wrists in his hands, his mouth against yours. If he starts losing control of the kiss he gently bites your lip, dragging his teeth along it teasingly. Your tongue invades his mouth before he has a chance to do it first: he just about shoves your hands into his robes, tearing into your clothes... This man lives for kissing now.

But he still doesn't realize this is more than casual, that this is something he needs… Until you chat. Its a quiet moment. You comment on the parchments rolled at the edge of his desk. 'Oh - that is just my own research into the effects of aconite. I had to work with it extensively a few years ago.' You take an interest, and he starts regaling deeper and deeper into his studies: how poorly documented others' research is; how it reacts to other ingredients; how modern brewing processes can draw so much more out of it - 'you know, the plant is often just passed off as toxic when even basic purification charms are enough to-' ...He is blabbering. On and on about a dull topic nobody cares about… yet you are listening. His jaw drops a little. He realizes that, for the first time in two decades, someone cares. Someone truly cares. About HIM. His thoughts, his interests... He never thought he could have this again. He didn't think that for the sex, either - but sex, compared to this, was easy to procure. He wants to kiss you again. But not for lust this time.

Suddenly it doesn't feel so embarrassing to allow his eyes to become wet, to draw a shuddering breathe as he builds the courage - of which he has masses of - to say something important: '…I am afraid I have come to love you.' It is a terrifying thing to say, but he has never once shied away from saying what is important, even if it results in pain. And yet this time, for once… he feels like he can trust that it wont.

** Many times later, he is laying down as his shirt gets unbuttoned, his collarbone kissed... He doesn't feel ashamed, even as he gently strokes his own dick, encouraging it to harden. He pulls his arms from his shirt sleeves, fearless of his dark mark being exposed. For once work is at the back of his mind as he allows himself to be pushed back down to into the pillows, chuckling as he is told: 'Shh… just lay still darling… I'll take care of you tonight…' ...And he does. Control well out of his hands and a smile on his face.

[starker-raving-mads]

For You: Part III

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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It was two months since the day Peter Parker's life changed for the second - third - fourth time.

He'd gotten more sleep over the last month than he had in the previous two months. It was partly due to sheer, never-ending exhaustion. His life since taking on the mantle as 'the new Tony Stark' - a title he balked at, mind you - had become pure chaos. At first, it was a relief. The instantaneous knowledge that money was no longer a problem. May could quit her job and devote her time to FEAST, he could complete his honors-GED (which many of the Blipped teenagers had chosen to do) and immediately hop into online college courses at Columbia with Ned and MJ.

Immediately following that relief, though, was his face splashed across every newspaper, tabloid, blog, and TikTok page in America.

He would never say it, and he couldn't prove it, but he was 99% sure it was Pepper's doing. After her initial outburst at the lawyer's offices, he'd hardly heard from her. His lawyers - god, his lawyers - had advised that he shouldn't respond to any comments on the subject of Pepper Potts being snubbed by her husband for Peter's heir status. While she had no legal leg to stand on since Tony's will was air tight and definite, that didn't stop her from digging her claws into all the ways she knew would hurt him.

Every time he saw something outrageous with his face on it on an article somewhere, he had to remind himself that she was grieving and in pain about a perceived betrayal by her husband. Her husband, who was Tony Stark, who did not belong to him.

No matter that the man had figured out time travel for him, had risked the universe, had given him billions of dollars and the most coveted job in the entire world. Tony only gave him this because there wasn't anyone else better that he trusted, but Peter knew that didn't mean he was Tony's true first choice, and he had to squash every niggling feeling and whisper of a thought that said he was. It would only make it hurt more when all he wanted was the pain to stop.

He'd finally found a moment, though, where things weren't quite as bad. He'd recently reconvened with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Rhodey and they had a steady if not solid pact. They were all unsure of the situation, still, and Peter didn't blame them. He'd been…questioned, more politely than Pepper had done, on how he and Tony's relationship had unfolded.

When he'd explained that he was 14 when he met Mr. Stark, Steve and Bucky both winced, apologizing for the disaster that was Germany but Peter shrugged it off. He really hadn't been hurt and it was a foundational moment for his and Mr. Stark's relationship. He couldn't bring himself to regret it.

After that, they'd had a few meals together, talked more about his life - and theirs, to an extent, though he was far more privy to them than they had been of him.

"He never mentioned you," Steve said, shaking his head, baffled. He held a cool beer in his hand, leaning back from the patio table they had gathered around at the newly rebuilt SHIELD headquarters in upper state New York.

"Oh he mentioned Pete to me all right," Rhodey disagreed before reaching over and ruffling his curls lightly. Peter liked Rhodey, liked how hands-on he was, how relaxed but also somehow by the book, liked his humor. He could see how he and Tony had been such good friends. "But he'd only told me about his 'brilliant new intern'," they all chuckled. "He really kept the whole Spider-Man thing close to the chest."

"I'd asked him to," Peter admitted, peeling the wrapper off of his bottle of lemonade. "First because I was still like so young, yo know? And then later, after a few - pretty major - mistakes I made, I guess he thought I'd proved I was finally ready to be an Avenger."

"Well I never heard Tony trying to recruit anyone," Rhodey commented and they all looked at him quizzically.

Peter let out a single huffed laugh. "Yeah, uh," he tried to keep down the blush rising on his neck. "You remember the day that Mr. Stark proposed to Ms. Potts?" Rhodey and Sam both laughed long and hard.

"Even over in Wakanda we saw that," Sam chuckled. "It was the Tony Stark special - a huge thing wrapped in a tiny, chaotic package. Not unlike yourself," he raised his eyebrows at Peter, who flicked his bottle wrapper at him.

"Pepper had no idea it was coming," Rhodey agreed before taking a long drink of his own beer.

"Yeah, well I don't think Mr. Stark had really…planned it," he grimaced. At their faces, he continued. "He'd taken me up to Stark Tower and gave me this speech about having graduated to the 'big leagues' after my last big wrap up," he shrugged. "He gave me the Iron Spider suit and said I was ready to be an Avenger." He frowned, rubbing at the glue and paper residue on his bottle. "And I told him that I just wasn't ready yet. That I needed to stay in Queens for a while more, be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Help the little guy, you know?" He raised earnest eyes up to the group and they all nodded, slowly. "So I asked him to just keep helping my identity to stay quiet," he shrugged.

"So, then what happened?" Bucky asked, long hair tilting with the rest of his head in curiosity. He didn't speak up often, but when he did, it was always because of something he really wanted to know.

"The next thing I knew I was being ushered downstairs to wait at the car for Happy," he shrugged. "I pulled out my phone and there on live broadcast Mr. Stark was proposing to Ms. Potts at a press conference." He chuckled. "It was - really, really weird."

He expected everyone else to laugh with him, but he was met with contemplative silence. He looked around at each of them before Rhodey finally met his gaze. "What?"

"I think," the older man said slowly, "that press conference was meant to be for your reveal as Spider-Man."

"No way - I mean," he shook his head as the rest of the guys started nodding their heads, agreeing thoughtfully. "He wouldn't propose to her just because - just because I said no to - "

" - to his proposal," Bucky finished.

It was another revelation that Peter could hardly bear the weight of. These things kept stacking and he wasn't sure how to balance all this knowledge he had, about the things Tony had done - and undone - for him. This one, though…this new information didn't hurt, not like the others did.

It actually made a strange amount of sense. At once, it both stung to feel like he was replaced with Ms. Potts so immediately, but also it was like the first fresh breath after being buried underground for so long to know that Peter's answer that day was so important to him that the only thing he could possibly trade it out for in equivalency was getting engaged.

Did this mean that if Peter had said yes Mr. Stark wouldn't have gotten married? It made his head spin, but it also made his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

Light enough to finally enter the last bastion of refuge that Tony Stark ever took comfort in.

His lab.

Despite being uninhabited for who knew how long, when the familiar glass doors slid open the air wasn't musty, stale, or any such thing. It was as fresh and crisp as it ever was. Off in the corner the long L shaped couch that he and Mr. Stark had often collapsed into opposite ends of, exhausted, lay half-made with fluffy pillows. The coffee pot was empty but clean, and every other available surface covered in notes either figuratively, having been decorated with papers scribbled on with hundreds of lines of equations and code, or literally, like the side of Peter's work station, where he'd dropped to a crouch to finish writing something out when he ran out of paper, mid-idea. He knew he could've just kept writing mid-air thanks to the lab's complete holographic setup, but it wasn't the same as having something solid under your hands.

There was pain in the familiarity of the lab but there was also a feeling of home he hadn't quite gotten the first time he stepped back into his and May's apartment. Plus -

"Hello, Peter."

"Friday!" He exclaimed, smile breaking wide across his face. With a pang, he didn't realize just how much he'd missed the AI until this moment.

"Yes, Peter?" the AI asked, voice warm and if he dared to think it, amused.

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just excited to see you again," he chuckled, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He started walking around the lab, taking it all in for the first time in what, to him, had been months. The longer he thought about that the more his brow furrowed. "Hey Friday?"

"Yes, Peter? Or would you like me to call you Boss as Tony had?"

"Oh! Um," he shook his head. "No, no Peter's fine, or whatever."

She hummed. "Would it be all right if I picked a name for you, Peter? Being able to distinguish between Boss and Others by a more specific title helps me with my internal hierarchy and understanding of individuals. If you would prefer I do not, though, merely say such."

"I mean if it helps you then, yeah, sure I guess."

"Thank you, Mini Boss," she said. He laughed again.

"You might wanna work on that," he smiled wide.

"Yes, I think it might take me some time, Father."

His eyes widened. "Father?"

"Hm, you're right," she said. "Boss was more like my Father, I suppose."

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Peter nodded. He gave her a beat to let her figure out what she wanted to call him as he walked over to his desk. He'd let her go through her process before he started asking the questions that sat burning in his mind.

"Would you be opposed to me calling you Mother, Peter?" Friday asked. He spun in his chair, smile wide again.

"If Tony was your Father, wouldn't he also be your Mother?" he asked, amused. "You know, having done 100% of your coding, and all."

"If one were to look at my original codebase as the only part of what makes me, me," she agreed. "However, would you not say that those that raise you are more worthy of such a title rather than just those that created you?"

He immediately thought to May and how, if he'd been younger when he came to her, he'd be calling her by that name.

"That's true enough, sure."

"And outside of Boss," she went on, "you are the individual most involved in my growth. So it stands to reason that if Boss is Father, then Peter is Mother."

"I - " he really didn't know what to say to that. It had never occurred to him that outside of Mr. Stark he was the one who interacted with Friday the most.

"If you would prefer I find a name not so closely connotated with females," she continued, "I can endeavor to do so."

"No, no, it's fine, Friday," he replied, quiet and in his head again. "You can - can call me Mother if you want." A not-so-small part of him felt absolutely, transparently happy that Friday considered him her parent. More than Mr. Stark leaving him the company, more than having all this financial security and ability to mess around with Tony Stark's labs, more than all of that - this meant something profound to him.

"I also thought," she said and that amusement was hinted at in her lilting Irish, "that it would be a nice subversive reference to the spacecraft from Alien."

He laughed out loud at that. "I love that movie, that's perfect."

He could feel her smile, then. "I know you do, Mother."

He slumped onto the stool at his table in the lab and finally asked his question. "Friday, can you tell me - why isn't the lab more different?"

"Different how?"

"Well it's just," he struggled to articulate the sentence, the feeling he was pulling at. "I was - gone - for five years. But it almost looks like this place never really changed?"

"I see," she said. "Boss spent a lot of time here after the Blip first happened, once he was home from Titan. He slept primarily on the couch in the corner and had me refill his coffee orders more than anything else. However, he never touched your things, Mother."

Peter frowned. "Why?"

"I could not say," she replied, tone ponderous. "Based on his patterns of movement, he seemed to specifically avoid your work areas. Though he did take a jacket you had left at her table to the couch. From my archival footage, he seemed to sleep with it, perhaps for warmth?"

It occurred to the teen, then, that Friday probably had thousands and thousands of hours of Tony on video and he could pull it to watch them at any time. The feeling of want was a fever in his blood and he asked, "Can you show me?"

"Of course, Mother."

Faint blue light lit up the couch and Peter walked over to it, seeing that more than merely just show him the video, she played it out in holographic projection. His breath hitched as Tony walked into view, Peter's hoodie in clutched in his hands. Staring down at it, he slumped onto the couch and brought the fabric to his face. Less breathing it in and more suffocating himself with it.

"I'm sorry," he heard muffled through Friday's speakers. "I'm so sorry, Pete."

Tony then curled up onto the couch on his side, face pressed to the hoodie, back toward the room. The projection cut off.

Peter didn't realize that he was crying until Friday asked, "Mother, are you okay?"

"I - " he tried to say, throat clogged with tears. "No," he admitted, jacket-covered wrist swiping away at his tears. He sniffled and sat where Tony had, finding his hoodie wedged between the cushions and the back of the couch. He pulled it out and, like Tony, smashed it to his face, breathing in the faintly lingering spicy scent of Tony Stark.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Friday said, speakers low, tone regretful. "I did not mean to cause you pain."

"You didn't, sweetheart," he shook his head, voice still clogged with tears. "I'm just sad."

"Why?" she asked, her natural curiosity shining through. Much like a child, she did not always know when it wasn't the right time to ask questions. But Peter had always liked indulging her and feeding her curiosity. The first few lab sessions they played 20 Questions back and forth until Tony would tell them both to shut up, though the amusement when he said it always shone through.

"I'm sad because Tony's dea - " he cleared his throat. "Because Tony - "

"It is okay, Mother," Friday cut him off. "I understand."

At that, he let himself fall back into the couch like Tony had. Above him, Friday dimmed the lights and stayed quiet, letting him cry out his grief in silence.

[aaaaafro]

Seductress 3 - ITZY Chaeryeong x M!Reader (+18?)

tw: titjob? blueballing, yes till reader dies, we aint stopping.

author's notes: I'm back yall! JK, okay so this'll be my only update for Tumblr at this time, I'll be jumping back to my wattpad work because I've been too lazy writing, after updating the Tumblr work, I'll jump back here, perhaps with a new work or another update for an ongoing series ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

pt. 2 here

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"WAIT!" You and Yuna echoed each other.

In a haste you two put your clothes back on before running after the said person who witnessed the unsightly situation.

Exiting ITZY's RV you've noticed that the outside is too empty and the person who saw you and Yuna has completely vanished.

"God fucking damn it!" You collapsed realizing what's about to happen.

Yuna stood there guilty as hell as she just tried her best to calm you down.

"W-we can sort this out oppa."

"No! We can't! This fucking job!" You feel terrible lashing out at Yuna but you can't blame yourself.

"Oppa..." Yuna's hesitant voice calls.

You then reached your wits end, standing up with your head down ignoring everything. The few staff that was left finishing the clean up was saying hi yo you but you just shut off completely.

Then a figure suddenly blocks your path. Your eyes travel upwards only to see.

Having been too spent to even give a proper greeting you just mumbled "M-my bad." before stepping aside and continuing your walk of shame.

"O-oppa!" She called hesitantly.

"Yes Chae?"

"Uh..."

"Can I help you with something?" You grew impatient with a hint of regret but your mind isn't in the right place at the moment.

"Y-yes..." She continues to hesitate.

"Is it something to be done tonight? Because, I'm not really–..."

"Can we go to your house?" Chaeryeong suddenly proposed.

You're too baffled at the suddenness of the situation "W-wait... Why?"

"I'm n-nervous for my s-shoot." She reasoned but you're not having any of it.

"Oh really? But you've done it many times now." You tried probing.

"Y-yeah b-but still..." She acted all cute and your anger dissipates in a matter of seconds.

"W-why my h-house?"

"Y-you have a small studio set up right?" Chaeryeong replied.

"R-right..."

"So? W-what are we waiting for?" She suddenly takes you by the arm and rushes to your car.

There's a lot happening in your mind that somehow isn't making sense. Firstly, there's still the person that witnessed Yuna grinding herself on top of you. Second, the fact that Yuna and Ryujin seem to be onto something from the get go of the whole situation, and lastly Chaeryeong's weird impulse of getting some practice shots for the photoshoot.

"Oh, you have a nice place for yourself." Chaeryeong compliments as you two enter your unit.

"Ye-yeah." You replied instinctively.

"Uh Chaery..." You mumbled.

"Shall we start?" She suddenly states before taking off her coat.

"H-hold on...." You tried halting her movements but she instead just gave you a look of confusion.

A smirk forms on her face before she continues to undress. Yep... Undress, just when you thought she'd stop after her coat was off. She suddenly removes her shirt.

As all other proper men would've done, you stood there frozen for a second before realizing that Chaeryeong is revealing more skin than you're prepared for. You quickly turn away the moment you saw a good portion of her bare toned torso.

"Chaeryeong! WHAT THE HECK?"

"Why?! I'm changing to my outfit." She replies managing to have the most innocent tone possible.

"Couldn't you do that somewhere else?"

"Wow, now you're uncomfortable? You sure weren't when Yuna was grinding herself on top of you." She suddenly answered with such a disdain tone.

Your heart drops hearing her confession. You then pieced all of it together.

"Hey?! Are we gonna do this or do you need me to grind on you too?" Chaeryeong sounded really impatient as she stood on your small makeshift studio.

You reluctantly followed, before you were greeted by Chaeryeong's gaze locked onto you, following every single step you took to your set up.

"C-chaery..."

"Yes, oppa?" She asked cutely while thinking of possible poses.

"About what you saw... With me and Yuna–."

"Stop! Can't you focus on what's in front of you?"

"B-but..." You were about to comment before Chaeryeong deadly gaze once more lands on you.

"Shall we start?"

With her eyes digging a hole straight through your defenses and her expression loudly saying that she's not taking 'no' as an answer. You reluctantly nodded.

"what pose should I start with?" she asked.

"L-let's break... b-break the ice first. You're free to just feel yourself and..." You unconsciously spoke with a professional mindset that you failed to realize how different the situation is.

"Feel myself?"

"Y-yeah."

"Right..." She then starts to run her fingers on her lips making sure she doesn't break her stare into your camera lens like she knows you're looking on the other end.

She's oozing confidence...

She's something else...

She's doing it on purpose...

She's holding her pose for you...

She's seducing you...

Not even a minute in, your hand starts to shake, cold sweats run down your face and your chest tightens.

"H-how about a b-break?" You state having to reach your limit

"Already?"

"I-... C-can I at least get some water?" You excused

"Get me some too. I want to feel wet." You paused midway through your walk to exit your studio.

"I mean my throat oppa."

"R-right." you then quickly bolted out of your studio and went straight to your kitchen.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself while taking a sip of water.

"We will, don't worry."

You spat out the water you just took in as soon as you heard the voice behind you.

"C-chaery."

"Yes?" She answered cutely before carefully brushing her finger on your hand making you let go of the glass and taking it.

"W-wha..." Your words fails to form properly as she slowly runs her tongue across the rim of the glass even the inside of it making sure to taste whatever hint of DNA you've left behind.

"Yes oppa? I can't hear you properly..." She said in such a sultry tone before taking a small sip of your water.

"You girls, wh-wha..." Once more your thought process fails to work seeing the young lady's lip coil as she bites it keeping a straight gaze towards you.

Mere seconds later you feel a pull from the universe as your face gravitates towards hers. Chaeryeong's lips grew redder as you've gotten so close to the point your foreheads collide in such a gentle way to welcome each other.

"Chaery." You whispered.

"Yes, oppa?"

"T-this isn't... r-right." You weakly say but it is enough to let her hear it.

"Is it?" She whispers before brushing the back of her hand on your cheek.

All of a sudden a hint of cherry hits your taste buds, lost, bewildered and confused all at the same moment you realized that Chaeryeong's lips are now connected to yours.

Your eyes widens when she suddenly slips something on and her hand that was on your cheek travels further to your nape. You didn't want to engage but there's something about it that you just wanted to give into.

It may be the feeling that this was all premeditated from the beginning, the way this whole thing started from Ryujin and it escalated to Yuna before landing yourself in the hands of Chaeryeong.

Fuck her lips are so delicious.

The way her tongue skillfully dances with yours, her slim fingers brushing against the skin of yours, her soft huffs in between the gaps of your make out session.

You can feel your spit spilling out as the kiss grows more intense than it already is. Chaeryeong then adjusts her position sitting atop the counter top capturing you in between her legs.

"Ha~!" Chaery then breaks off your contact before locking eyes with you.

A subtle eyebrow raises from her piques your interest before her hand from your nape travels down your torso right on the seam of your shirt. She then started to lift your shirt as your hands came into the mind of their own and started to feel her soft thighs.

"How were those two?" She then asked.

"T-those two?" You innocent retort and that produces a scoff from the younger lady.

"You're asking as if you don't know who I'm talking about."

You shrugged before feeling her short tap on your chest. Her cutest giggle hits your eardrums as she leans in for a quick peck.

"Honestly... I didn't do it with Yuna and Ryujin." You confessed in the kiss this causes Chaeryeong to dislatch her lips from yours.

"You minx!" She bursts.

"It's true!"

"W-we just dry humped and got interrupted."

You can clearly see her laughter being held back. She lookes away before scoffing and despite having held back most of her laugh a slight giggle still escapes her lips.

"You really got blueballed twice with the most brattiest members of ITZY."

"W-well, if it weren't for you and Yuna, I would've done it with Ryujin." You boastfully state and Chaeryeong just shakes her head in disbelief.

"Oh, so it's our fault you didn't get to taste Ryujin-unnie?"

"K-kinda."

"Wouldn't you want to go all the way with her?" She asks.

Perhaps your new found confidence was short lived as you've slowly considered the possibility of sleeping with one of them.

"Oh big boy, don't ponder too much. Just look in front of you." Chaeryeong cheers you up even lifting your head high to align your eyes with hers.

Her hands then traveled to your arm and ultimately led yours up to her torso. You can feel her heat radiating from her body feeling your touch against her clothed skin.

Your fingers sprawled out grasping the healthiest of orbs in your hand. Chaery lets out an airy almost whimper-like moan.

"Mhmmm."

"A-are you sure about this?" You stupidly questioned.

She then again produced a scoff before removing your hands from her torso. You mentally smacked yourself as you stepped back and gave her some space.

Then the unthinkable happened (as if it hasn't for almost 3 chapters now) Chaeryeong pulled down her dark shirt, freeing her arms from the constricting black clothes and finally revealing her luscious orbs that have their buds covered by pasties, which almost disappointed you but fuck that its closest to the real thing.

Chaeryeong noticed your slight disappointment and decided to do something about it. Slipping her fingers through the small seam of the pasties before peeling them off completely, greeting you with the pinkish of nubs that are protruding enough to be called turned on.

"You're salivating."

Can she blame you though? You did your best to wipe whatever shameful liquid that's dripping from your mouth before the lady in front of you chuckles at your cuteness.

You smiled at the sight of Chaery laughing but wasn't able to fully admire her visuals as you were greeted with a mouthful of hunger and desire. Chaeryeong lapping whatever remnants of your spit was left.

"Fucking delicious." She mumbles in between the pauses.

Can't deny that, as she slips her tongue almost wanting it to reach your throat. The two of you reconnected your lips before your hands acted on their own and quickly got a vice grip on her perky tits.

Mashing the supple feel and occasionally pinching the nubs of her aroused breast didn't fail to up Chaery's libido even more as her legs captured your pelvis and pulls you into her.

She broke the kiss off before resting her forehead against yours.

Her lust-filled eyes locked against yours before she whispered; "Mhmm, you like playing with them baby?"

You didn't answer, instead, you tightened the grip of her perky tits with the slightest intent of having your fingers engraved on her breast.

"S-shit!"

Without a hint of being hurt or displeasure, you came to the conclusion that this isn't gonna be your average fucking.

"Eat me." She again whispered.

Your eyes widened, never have you ever imagined yourself devouring, fuck it even seeing a member of ITZY naked and right at that moment, one of them is asking you to do lustful things to her. You'd be the biggest idiot if you didn't comply.

With your goal set in sight, seeing that it's just the two of you. You start working your way from her lips, down her sharp jaw, planting soft kisses and subtle bites that continue to make Chaeryeong squirm in anticipation.

The moment your lips brushed against her pinkish hard nub an airy sigh leaves Chaeryeong's lips, her hand grabs a handful of your hair,

Sucking, licking, biting or whichever way your mouth can work on each nubs of the squirming lady in your arms to have her moan out another profanity or just the sultry sighs was all you could do, as your pants grew painfully tighter.

"You're choking baby." Chaeryeong manages to whisper.

She's clearly not talking about your busy mouth lapping up her busty orbs, she makes her point but unbuckling your pants and freeing you from the constricting confinement.

Wasting no time, she immediately fished out your member and started stroking the rock hard length that's raging against her touch.

You can feel Chaery's excitement as her grip and strokes grew more and more aggressive.

It became too much for you and as much as you hate it you detached yourself from her precious goodies before saying "F-fuck Chaery."

"I know! We'll get there!" She playfully replies before slithering down the counter top and on to her knees.

"But first, this big guy needs a lil bit of attention." Chaery added before planting a kiss on the tip of your length which almost made your knees buckle.

A long wet lick suddenly came across the base of your member that made you brace yourself on the counter top, with a sultry sigh Chaeryeong then took your whole member in not caring about her vocals for their practices she did her best to make you collapse on your feet.

While you're receiving the gawk gawk 3000 you look back at the earliest encounters with the other member, reminiscing Chaery's question. If it weren't for the interruptions would you have gone all the way with the other two. How about the other two? The unnies... You honestly can't get your head around the thought but you exactly knew what's going aroudn your head. Other... head... Chaeryeong's lips as she continues to suck the living hell out of your cock pairing them with the massage on your balls just took it a step further.

"Fuck! Chaery I might..."

She released the tip of your member with an audible pop before answering; "Cum? That's the plan big boy."

She then placed her hands on the back of your leg and for whatever fucking reason, as soon as she pressed a nerve you buckled down lowering yourself for her.

You already know what's about to go down and yet it still makes you twitch as soon as your rigid length fits between her mounds.

"Holy fuck." You commented which made Chaery smile.

"Hot aren't they?" She replies with a devilish smile.

Pressing her soft orbs together encapsulates your member perfectly, her spit still covering your length and she starts to pump.

"S-shit."

You can see the tip of your length hitting Chaeryeong's chin which begs the question but it was already answered before it was asked. As she quickly leaned downwards and took your member into her mouth but careful enough to still have you captured between her mounds.

This sight is so sinful, sacred and so fucking hot, making it impossible to look away, like it's blasphemy to remove your attention for even a fraction of a second.

Not even a minute in you feel yourself reaching your limit but who can blame you?

"C-chaery." You pathetically called.

But the little fox is too busy with her meal as she just ignores you and continues to do her thing.

As soon as your balls tighten, something unimaginable happens. Chaery lets go of your member, giving you a devilish smile as if to mock you, stating that she's proud of sin she had committed.

"I think that'll be enough for the night." Chaery removes herself from the space between you and the counter top.

"What the fuck?!"

"Oh, that? Perhaps next time baby." She cheekily replies before giving you a wink.

"W-wha?" Too stunned to speak, with your pants down you stood there glancing back and forth at your raging member and the lady who's fixing her outfit.

"You should get yourself fixed before my service picks me up." She added with such a nonchalant tone that only adds insult to injury.

Three... you've been blueballed three times in a single day. You're too dumbfounded at how these girls are just playing you at the palm of their hand. Drawing the line between coincidence and a well thought-out plan, you stood there motionless piecing together the times you've been stopped midway through committing the lustful act.

"Stop!" You burst immediately as Chaery was about to leave the vicinity.

"Wha-." She was about to ask but you quickly closed the distance between the two of you and pinned her against the wall.

"H-hey! P-playtime's o-over." The girl nervously chuckles.

"No." Was your straight answer.

The girl trembles but it doesn't seem like it was out of discomfort. She stood there fidgeting while rubbing her thighs together as if something was off.

Your hand on the wall slowly travelled towards her hips, tracing her well sculpted body. Chaery couldn't even keep her composure as she squirms from your touch.

"Didn't you ask me earlier if I would've gone all the way with them if I wasn't blueballed by you and Yuna?"

"Mhmmm." She moaned as your fingers traced her flat tummy down her heat radiating core.

"Should I answer that now?" She nodded subtly with her eyes pleading.

You were about to kiss her, when all of a sudden.

"Ryeongiee! We're going!"

"WAIT!" You and Chaery echoed each other.

[bridellashiper]

Rebellious, in a beautiful kind of way.

Pairing: Red x Fem Reader! {Elsa's Daughter}

You are Queen Elsa's firstborn and only daughter. You had no intention of leaving the kingdom of Arendelle—it was your home and your peace. However, your mother had other plans, and despite your better judgment, she decided to send you off to Auradon, hoping you would make a few friends.

TW: Spelling errors, minor use of ‘reader’; you have a name. Nonchalant x hotheaded/sassy dynamic.

You stared aimlessly out of the carriage window, sighing every now and then as you admired the beauty of Auradon, even though you were reluctant to attend school there.

You had to admit, the beauty was a sight for sore eyes.

You didn’t understand why you had to attend school in Auradon—you were perfectly fine back in Arendelle. You had friends there, even if just a few. They were still friends.

You’d read about Auradon’s history—King Ben and Queen Mal forging alliances across the borders, Beast uniting all the kingdoms—except Wonderland, of course. You read about the war that broke out when the Queen of Hearts refused to accept the union and how it led to her being labeled a 'tyrant.'

You also heard her daughter was just as bad.

You wondered if you’d get along with her—or any of the other princesses there.

You wondered if they would see you as a monster once they witnessed the powers you inherited—

“Princess Seraphina of Arendelle, we have arrived,” your coachman, Bruce, called out loudly, snapping you out of your thoughts. You drifted your gaze across the crowd of princes and princesses alike.

You felt… out of place here. You had never been in a kingdom with so many people before. With a reluctant hand, you pushed the carriage door open, shutting it with a gentle 'click' as you stepped out, taking a deep breath.

Your gloved hands clutched the edges of your pale silver dress. Like your mother, you too struggled to control your icy magic.

You glanced down at your dress, wondering if it was too much. The dress was a soft, icy blue with touches of silver and white for accents. It had a slight ombré effect, transitioning from a deeper blue at the hem to a lighter, almost white shade near the bodice, reminiscent of a snow-covered landscape at dawn.

The dress was made from a comfortable yet elegant fabric—a soft satin and silk blend—ensuring it was both practical for daily wear and luxurious enough to reflect your royal status. The fabric had a subtle shimmer, catching the light as you moved.

The dress had a graceful A-line silhouette, allowing easy movement while maintaining a regal appearance. It featured a fitted bodice with a slightly flared skirt that reached just above the ankles, much like your mother's.

Smoothing out the creases in your dress, you glanced up to catch sight of a red-haired girl. She was beautiful, in a rebellious sort of way. Her red hair cascaded down her back in long, beautiful waves.

'So this must be Red. She is… pretty,' you murmured under your breath, observing her with keen eyes.

She was… beautiful, in a rebellious kind of way.

And you wanted to know her—about her, her interests, her likes and dislikes, her favorite foods, and her least favorite foods.

It almost baffled you—why were you so eager to get to know someone you didn’t even know? You shook your head at the thought.

“Princess Seraphina, everyone is this way.”

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the red-haired beauty who had captured your attention, you followed the guards into Auradon Prep.

You found yourself seated next to Red during the introduction of the new principal.

“Hey, psst,” you heard someone whisper, though you weren’t sure who.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” At that, you realized the person speaking was Red—the very girl you had been admiring moments ago.

“Yes?” you murmured back, though you kept your gaze trained on the people in front of you.

“I caught you, you'know,” she whispered back, leaving you confused. With a slight frown, you replied:

“You caught me…?” you repeated, dumbfounded, and you could almost feel the red-haired girl roll her eyes. with a smirk.

“Staring. I caught you staring at me before.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Red’s directness. Heat crept up your neck, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so obvious.

“I wasn’t staring,” you lied, your voice just above a whisper, hoping she wouldn’t press further.

Red let out a soft chuckle, the sound unexpectedly warm and inviting.

“Sure, Princess,” she teased, leaning in slightly as if to make sure you caught every word. “But just so you know, I don’t mind it.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so you kept quiet, focusing on the introduction ceremony instead. But your mind was a whirl of thoughts and questions. What was it about her that intrigued you so much? Why did she seem so different from anyone you’d met before?

As the ceremony dragged on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Red—her confident smirk, the way her eyes seemed to gleam with mischief. She was like a puzzle, one you felt strangely compelled to solve.

When the ceremony finally ended, students began to disperse, heading off to explore the campus or find their rooms.

You hesitated, unsure of where to go or what to do next. But before you could decide, Red appeared by your side, her presence as bold as her hair.

“So, Princess Seraphina,” she began, emphasizing your title with a playful grin. “What’s a royal from Arendelle doing here in Auradon? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere, freezing things and ruling kingdoms?”

Her teasing tone made you smile, and you found yourself relaxing slightly. “My mother thought I needed a change of scenery,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “She wanted me to ‘make friends.’ ”

“Make friends?” Red echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Well, that sounds like something out of a fairy tale. And here I thought we were all here to survive the chaos.”

“Chaos?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“Oh, you’ll see,” she said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of trouble. “Auradon Prep might look perfect on the outside, but it’s got its fair share of drama. Especially when you’ve got kids from every kingdom packed into one place.”

You couldn’t help but be intrigued by her words. “And you? What’s your story?”

Red shrugged, a casual gesture that didn’t quite match the intensity in her eyes. “I’m just here to see how much fun I can stir up,” she said, though there was something in her tone that made you think there was more to it.

Before you could press her for details, a group of students passed by, chattering excitedly about the upcoming classes and events. Red watched them go, a slight smirk on her lips.

“Come on, Princess,” she said, turning back to you. “Let’s ditch the formalities. You’re new here, right? How about I show you around? You might need someone to watch your back.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. There was something about Red that made you want to follow her, to see what she would show you.

Maybe it was the way she seemed so sure of herself, or maybe it was just the thrill of stepping into the unknown.

“Lead the way,” you murmured with a sigh, trying to match her confident tone.

Red’s grin widened, and she gestured for you to follow. As you walked side by side, the world of Auradon Prep began to unfold before you—grand hallways, elaborate classrooms, and students who all seemed to have their own stories to tell.

And as Red led towards your dormitory, you couldn’t help but replay the encounter in your mind. Red was unlike anyone you’d ever met before—bold, confident, and unapologetically herself.

And despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself wanting to know more about her.

Maybe your mother was right after all. Maybe coming to Auradon was exactly what you needed.

But one thing was certain: Red was going to make your time here very interesting.

[fuctacles]

Midsummer Night's Dance

T | 1257 | knight!Steve, bard!Eddie, pre-Steddie, platonic Hellcheer | Ao3

Steve had already made up his mind and was on his way to the stables by the time Jason Carver found him.

"You're as good as dead, Harrington,” the man sneered into his face. “That freak is going to kill you in your sleep.”

"He's just a minstrel, Carver."

"He is a murderer!" Jason yelled, his face going red. Steve could feel his hot breath on his face. It reeked of alcohol. "He and his devil worshippers killed Chrissy!"

"Lady Christine disappeared," Steve reminded him. "There is no proof Munson had anything to do with it."

"He was drugging her! Everyone knows it!"

By now Steve moved past Jason, making his way deeper into the stables where Dustin, his squire, should be waiting with their horses. Carver followed him with uneven steps, breathing down his neck. 

He felt a tiny bit of relief when he spotted the teen. They nodded at each other, Dustin's eyes flicking behind him and his mouth pressed into a thin line. Wisely, he chose not to speak in Jason's presence. They silently prepared their horses, letting the man tire himself out with yells and accusations.

"Can't believe you're dragging along a kid," he baffled watching both of them leave the stables with their horses. "At least your corpses will finally prove I was right about that freak!"

Steve couldn't help the roll of his eyes.

"In that case, I’m glad I’ll never have to see you again," he said, leading his horse towards the stoned path that lead all the way from the castle grounds to the front gates and the forest beyond. Dustin followed behind him.

As soon as they left the shade of castle towers, he sighed, rolling his shoulders.

"This better not bite me in the ass, Henderson," he said, eyeing his squire.

Dustin deflated, like Steve just gave him permission to unleash everything that he's been holding inside.

"Eddie's cool! You can trust him! You can trust me!"

"Yeah? Like with Darth?"

Dustin bristled. 

"Don’t bring him into this! I wouldn't trust Darth with my life. But with Eddie, I would."

Steve squinted at him.

"His dramatics are rubbing off on you."

They reached the local tavern, Dustin running inside and then out to get Eddie's horse. Soon, the man of the hour was out of the door, his shirt askew, hair sticking out, sleep still gluing his eyelids together.

"You were… sleeping," Steve half-asked with disbelief.

The bard only grunted in response.

"It's almost noon!"

"It's nine," he hissed back, as if they shouldn't have left at dawn. "Hellfire!" He immediately lit up when Dustin appeared with his horse, black like midnight. He nuzzled gently her snout, cooing at her.

Steve melted a tiny bit inside, always touched by a sight of a loving horse-owner. Too many knights treated them like expendables.

He coughed into his fist to hide his reaction.

"Let's go."

They walked the rest of the length of the cobbled path, making a stop at the market to get some food for the road. Eddie disappeared minutely, and just when Steve was about to get angry, he reappeared, brandishing a marmalade stuffed bun for each of them.

Grumbling, Steve bit into the offering.

"Trying to bribe me?"

"Why would I? You already agreed to take me," Eddie answered after swallowing. "I just wanted one and thought it would be nice to share." He shrugged.

"Well, thanks."

"Steve has a sweet tooth!" Dustin offered the information happily, ignoring the glare his knight threw him.

"Ahh, now I know the way to Steve Harrington's heart," the bard smiled at him mischievously.

In answer, Steve hopped onto his horse and trotted away, forcing his companions to hastily follow his lead. Soon, their little troupe was out of the town gates and towards what Munson dubbed a ‘song-worthy adventure’. Steve just called it a routine patrol but, to each their own.

****

Eddie made for a surprisingly good travel companion. As a bard he had a lot of stories and songs to fill the boring stretches of the road, as a… herbalist he knew his way around the forest flora and had a satchel of fragrant tea he brewed for Steve on the first morning of their adventure/patrol.

It took him two nights to notice something was off. On the third, he took action.

"Where's Eddie?" he asked Dustin when it was his turn to take the night watch.

The boy shrugged.

"Taking a dump, I guess?"

"How long has he been gone?" Steve frowned. Dustin rolled his eyes like the idea of something bad happening to his friend, in the middle of the night, in a forest he didn't know, was an absurd concept.

"You know these artist types, they love their midnight strolls," he waved his hand dismissively. "He said to give him half an hour before worrying."

Okay, so there was that at least.

"Fine," Steve scoffed. He stretched and looked around the darkness surrounding their patch of grass. "I'm gonna take a leak and switch you up."

"Okay."

But as he was tying his pants back up, a stubborn plan solidified in his head. Without a second thought, he followed the trail of disturbed bushes. He stumbled a bit, since the barely-there path was lit only by a sliver of moon.

He almost walked right into them. One second the forest was dark and empty, the only sounds made by his footsteps and the quiet nightlife, and the next only a tree trunk was separating him from a clearing that bustled with energy.

The bodies crowding the place glowed their own ethereal light, fair lithe forms covered only by overflowing hair, wings, and shimmering slivers of fabric. They danced in a circle, happy and smiling, flowing above ground. Beside the gathering of faeries - a bard, accompanying them with his lute. Not just any bard. Steve's bard.

His voice flowed around, intertwining with the instrument and almost tangible in the pulsing air. It made Steve feel the urge to dance, but he knew it would be wrong to join them as a mere human being. Instead, he watched. The sight of fairies made him feel dizzy, their bodies unfocused, tethering on the edges of two realms. Or maybe his human eyes were at fault here, not designed to seeing them. He had no trouble focusing on Eddie, though. His milky skin was glowing just like the faeries’, and his hair flowed with a non-existent breeze. He fitted among them perfectly, and the thought that he couldn't be fully human, crossed Steve's mind.

There was a shift in the circle, a figure emerging and reaching out. Eddie smiled, abandoning his lute in a grasp of another faerie who continued the tune without a hitch. And then they were dancing, twirling around each other, singing together.

Steve could see both of them clearly.

He's met Christine Cunningham before but here she looked nothing like what he remembered. Where she used to be sickly pale and have an aura of melancholy around her, here she was alive with magic, fitting right in with the menagerie of mystical creatures.

Steve’s reasons for agreeing to the bard's company were many. A lot of them were tied to the widely spread rumours of his involvement in the disappearance of Lady Cunningham. He had a gut feeling the man was no murderer but the truth facing him was much bigger than he could ever imagine.

Not a murderer nor a kidnapper, Eddie Munson had simply returned his friend to where she always belonged.

[brazenautomaton]

I'm going to say this here in response to the Israel thing and the awful responses to such that @mg-dl has been talking about / reblogging about, and that's, like, being antisemitic is still genuinely confusing to me. I get it in abstract, but, like... how have you reached this conclusion?

Hamas opens up a brand new shocking campaign of terror and all of a sudden you see respectable people going "oh the Jews can just use all their second Jew passports and get out" and "the Jews are all this" and "the Jews are all that" and it's, it's baffling to me. aren't you guys supposed to be the ones who say that not only is racism bad, but it's easy to not be racist?

You know how I'm not racist? I don't fucking associate moral information about people with their race. I don't bring it up as a relevant factor. I don't assume that people who have a certain race have a fundamentally different experience of the world. The fact that someone is Jewish is not useful information to me unless I am, like, currently talking about specific religious lore. It doesn't affect me, it doesn't affect my interactions with them, it doesn't change my predictions of their behavior, it's not useful information and should have zero weight put on it. Doing that does seem easy! Ignoring useless information is what you should do anyway! So why is it so fucking hard for everyone to just do that?

And, like, at least when people are racist against blacks or Asians it's based on things they have seen. It's not an accurate picture of the world, it's biased and selective recall of information to fit a self-flattering narrative, but someone who says all black people are violent criminals has in fact seen more than zero black people who are violent criminals. The pure conviction with which leftists and left-likes talk about traits the Jews have is absurd because in addition to being wrong, they're not even things they have observed! You haven't seen Jews be people who all have two passports, you haven't seen any of this supposed rootlessness or disloyalty because it's all fucking third-layer-removed abstractions and assumptions of infinite subtlety that can't be falsified so they can't be observed either.

Aren't you Marxists supposed to be about material conditions? Shouldn't the idea of a demographic as a moral actor be absurd to you because all of their behavior is created by material conditions? The "decolonization" types are just as wrong and are following their own hopelessly broken ideology off of a cliff, but at least they had something pointing in the direction of their wrongness. The only thing you had to do to not be awful in this case was not go out of your way to contradict your own ideas and you couldn't restrain your soul-deep wrongness to even do that much.

In the abstract I know why it exists, but that doesn't make it any less nonsensical on that visceral level. I get hatred against the outgroup and people who are threatening to you, I get stereotyping people with negative interactions, those things are wrong but I understand how they happen. But when I see someone saying about how we "don't need to worry about the Jews" or whatever, like... how can you say that? How can that sentence make any sense to you? The group "Jews" is not a moral category we should worry about or not worry about, the people who are getting killed and the people who are being threatened are what we should worry about! All you have to do is NOT say "it's good when people are murdered" and how have so many of you fucked that up?

I fucking support the people who are getting killed and terrorized in that I don't think it's good to kill or terrorize them, and I don't say that kind of thing because in my experience it's insulting and degrading to be damned with that kind of faint praise, so how in the fuck is this something that people actually need to hear?

[killishin]

LAST FAREWELL

pairing : toji fushiguro x reader

category : angst

warning : blood , death , murder.

author's note : please follow the warnings and then read.

You arrive at the site , but you may be too late.

The dark forest was where you had anticipated the next move of the "Sorcerer Killer" , you had tired yourself out for months trying to catch a hold of him , see what all the rumours are about , even though you have been warned again and again to stop this stupid obsession, you weren't gonna quit now that you might be so close.

Many trees had fallen over , scartches all over , under the moonlight you could faintly see the sillouette of someone fallen over a broken log of tree , his haggered breathe faintly reaching your ears. The dim light of moon was enough to make out the jujutsu uniform and your eyes widened in alarm.

Just as you were about to take a step you felt something, rather someone behind you , reaching as fast as a predator. You turned and blocked the blow with your arm , opening your eyes and slowly the moonlight revealed the person.

" T-Toji?" you muttered in utter disbelief and he must have seen your face too as his face was just as shocked as yours. Due to the shock you had let down your guard and you went flying across and collided with a tree.

You screamed at the pain as you fell down on the ground , but you immediately stood up and saw him staring at you with a scowl on his face.

That same face you saw growing up , fell in love with , adored more than anything. The same face you cried for years on end , that you yearned to see just once. But as the years passed you decided to forget him , this obsession was a distraction from him , yet it led you straight to him.

" Still obsessed with me eh?" His voice , now somehow more heavier. He may show the careless attitude but you just knew he was baffled too. Maybe even soft. It's the eyes. They say everything.

"You're the one.... doing all this?" you asked as you took a step towards him and he laughed at you.

" Why not? It pays well. "

Your face scrunched into that of disdain and you glared at him.

" So that's what you have been reduced to? Killing for money? Huh... Maybe they were right , i was wrongly having hopes for someone who had no heart." You said with a laughter as you walked towards him , your steps relaxed yet wobbly.

He picked up the almost dead person by his collar and raised him to shoulder level and looked at you, feigning hurt.

" You expected me to be a social worker??? Become a monk??" his voice all babyish and then he laughed before it ceased and all that remained was his blank stare. Before you could even comprehend he plunged a knife into the injured's neck , killing him. He threw him off to side before walking towards you.

"Don't bullshit me y/n." He said condescendingly , looking down on you.

" You assume the world to be simple. Fairtytale. It's almost pathetic y/n. Grow up. Not everyone's dealt the same cards. " He said , his face so close to you , you could see all the scars , the hidden pain in those eyes. The urge to take his face in your hands ached your heart , but now there stood this unending distance between you. A reminder that the past is in the past , he was no longer who you knew. Your lives were different.

It was time to bid farewell to that part of you that was his.

You raised your hands to attack him , tears threatening to spill from your eyes that were full of anger. But you were careless right now , weak. He held your hands and in a second you were up against the bark of tree , raised above the ground. His eyes stared into yours , no malice or hate in them. Just something.

" I will not fight you."

And with that , in a second he was out of sight along with the man's corpse.

Maybe that something was regret.

reblogs are likes are greatly appreciated.

[estelle-skully]

Relentless Revenge

A trolls tkl fic

Lee!John Dory

Lers!His brothers

summary: after years of being the tickle monster of the family, John Dory finally gets humbled by his bros as an act of revenge

John Dory let out a dramatic sigh of relief as he entered his pod; he had just barely escaped a large group of fangirls who were desperate to get his autograph n shit, but he was not in the mood. All he wanted to do was to go for a little stroll, but apparently that was impossible, being as well known as he was. He knew his brothers went through the same stuff all the time, since they complained so much.

Who knew people would still care so much about us after disappearing from the face of the earth for so many years.. He thought. At least he knew he and his bros were successful. But god damn, the paparazzi could be unbearable sometimes.

Just before he could lazily plop down on his couch, he heard the sound of skittering behind him- a dark blur darted through his vision, and he instantly perked up. “Who’s there?” He asked loudly. Subconsciously, he hoped with every fiber of his being that it was some critter that had gotten in somehow and not an obsessive fan. The ones from earlier did follow him for a while…

With that thought in mind, he reached for the small pocket knife he had tucked away in his jacket. Sure, maybe he was overreacting a bit, but it’s never okay to break into someone’s house!

But as he was lost in thought, he was tackled to the floor from behind.

“ACK-!” Blindly he swung around his little knife.

“Jesus dude! Chill out! It’s just me!”

John Dory was shocked to realize that his “attacker” was none other than his brother, Clay.

“Clay, what the hell was that for? I almost stabbed you!”

“No duh. And uhh.. I can’t tell you”

“Can’t tell me what? What on earth is going on?”

“Now, guys!”

as if on cue, the rest of JD’s brothers- Bruce, Floyd, and Branch- leaped out of their hiding places and ruched to him, pinning him down or sitting around him.

Next thing he knew, John found himself laying on his back with his arms pinned above his head by Branch, Clay straddling his waist, Floyd sitting near his legs and Bruce sitting by his torso, all four of them smirking down at him.

“What the hell is this!?” JD exclaimed, too baffled to really fight back.

“Revenge.” Branch replied curtly.

“That’s not enough detai-ahahaAaahahAHAHAHAA WAHAIT-“

the poor troll was cut off when Branch wiggled his fingers into JD’s armpits.

ohhh fuck. Now he understood. All those years of wrecking his brothers was now coming back to him.

he should have seen this coming.

regardless, JD still tried fighting back, but his brothers were shockingly strong.

at this point the rest of the bros started their attacks too. Clay was squeezing his hips and lower sides, Bruce methodically poked at his stomach and ribs and Floyd scribbled his fingers on JD’s knees

already it was almost too much for the poor ticklish fucker to handle.

He threw his head back and cackled, unable to fight back, and really really wishing that he could get back at his brothers right now.

“How’s it feel being the victim for once?” Clay asked, and JD low key wanted to (kindly) punch that smirk off his face. He chose to ignore him and tried using his hair to throw them off- if he could just use it as a hand, maybe, to tickle one of them back, or to cover Clay’s smug as face-

“Oh no you don’t!” Bruce exclaimed, noticing. Branch trued shoving JD’s hair down. “Don’t worry guys, I’ve got this. Being a dad has given me lots of tickle monster experience.” And Bruce leaned down and blew a loud, sloppy raspberry on JD’s belly.

Their eldest brothers finally lost it.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT! GUHIHUYS S-STAHAHAP!!”

“d’nawww, what’s wrong? Has the big bad tickle monster finally been defeated?” Bruce asked in a really fake sounding sympathetic voice. As much as he hated to admit his defeat, John Dory nodded.

The bros stopped their attacks and all looked down at him, satisfied with what they had done.

It took a minute for John to fully compose himself, laying there as he still giggled from the leftover tickly feelings. He finally sat up and wiped the tears that pricked at his eyes, still grinning.

“You’re all such dicks for that,” he said, “but I guess that was fair. I think I’ll let this slide.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Floyd replied. “I won’t lie, I was actually scared shitless of this idea.”

“Took a while to convince him.” Bruce added, nodding.

“So, Johnathan Dorathan, what did you think? Ut was really all Branch’s idea.”

JD glanced at his youngest brother. “It was… a clever idea, I’ll admit. Im impressed by your ability to stay hidden like that. But do not ever tickle me again, because I will obliterate all of you on the spot.”

“Whatever you say, bro” Clay teased, poking his side. JD yelped.

“What did I just say?”

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it-“

“No actually what did I just say” John said, standing up. He wasn’t genuinely angry with Clay- he knew his bro was just messing around. But he was not gonna let this slide!

“ohoho god-“ Clay slowly backed away, knowing exactly what was coming.

“oh shit dude, you’re in for it now” Floyd said, almost wanting to run away himself, fearing that JD might decide to wreck all four of them.

“You can’t escape the beast forever!” JD exclaimed, lowering his voice to sound more gruff, “you have just triggered the tickle monster’s prey drive!”

“noho wait-!”

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Demon Slayer||The Midnight Visitor||Forbidden Romance||Akaza

Introducing the series most well-written character with the perfect backstory.

These encounters turned to be more and more strange as the days passed, as a Hashira this would be condemned but, as a human could your feelings be more accepted.

You couldn't dwell on that single piece of guilt in your planned meetings, you were always so careful, marking your steps, making sure you wouldn't be followed.

Today, you had cleared your schedules, it was an honor serving as a Hashira but, you may be a little tainted, not that it mattered too much now, you had already come so far.

So, even if there is a very questionable period, of how long you would continue to see your lover, it might end when the spine cracks and it could be like a time-struck bomb. But it felt worth it. If you look back now, you will miss out on what you have now.

These thoughts spiraled, you cursed yourself, and you questioned if your dedication to the Corp just lame words was, that any liar would give to make an excuse.

You pushed open a drawer, and you smiled when you recalled who had given you this fine Kimono, with such an eye-catching hairpin. You had gotten it many years back, but this was your first time draping it yourself.

It was such a baffling situation, as you put on the Kimono, put on the hairstyle you had practiced for a while, and did your makeup like you practiced. It was a rare night, where you and your lover were meeting after a long flight. You wanted to make it a lovely memory you could hold close to your heart because time was fleeting, but it shouldn't mean you should just let go without giving it your all.

You were, well with your lover going to a festival, where you could gaze about the streets illuminated, with dancing smiles, activities the children squealed to get a chance at, and humble parents trying to control them.

You reached the spot where you had asked him to meet you, it was just about the time of dusk, surely your heart swelled, when Akaza finally made his presence known, he froze for a moment when he noticed a rare moment of beauty which adorned your presence, it was truly enchanting to see you in a Kimono, he was truly captivated for a few moments.

"I didn't know we had something like this planned."

"It's okay, but It is a festival in the busy streets and this festival I wanted to go with you, because... I might not see you anytime soon again." You whispered.

"But you already knew that now, didn't you? The moment you met me here in the same place two years ago. This wouldn't be a romance where we plan our future looking at the stars, or we wait for each other to come back home. Those were the risks; we've made it till here." Akaza paused but looked at the illuminating lights he would soon walk under beside you.

"I know... But I guess I got a little hopeful." You admitted that you unknowingly moved closer to him, Akaza took your hand in his intertwining it,

"I can't deny that I wanted this to last that's something you won't hear a demon say, but things are getting agitated, and disturbed I can't say for sure what is causing the uneasiness, but I feel it, and I know you too can," Akaza emphasized the bitter truth, You put your head on his chest, as he cradled you closer, "I'm hearing your heartbeat." You stated, "Well, what does it say?"

"It says we are wasting our time, by not heading to the festival."

Akaza chuckled, "Let's get a move then."

The festival was glamorous, It was just like how your grandmother described those few hours felt like a dream maybe in the dead of the night Akaza returned you back to your estate, he stood outside the door, just a couple feet away from you.

"I guess this is goodbye?" You said, without choking on your tears,

You felt Akaza put his arms around you, for a long time, "Don't forget to still send me your letters, I'll always reply to them like usual."

"Take care of yourself, my love, I won't be pleased if I see you with injuries, and..." Akaza kissed your forehead, "I'll still be hopeful of our next meeting. Goodbye."

[goodluckclove]

Queer Robot Intimacy - 200 Follower "Reward"?

I cannot believe that we've gotten to this point. It is absolutely baffling to me. First I'd like to thank everyone who have made themselves comfortable in my virtual home - I had no idea my couch could fit so many people.

Are we good? Do we need more snacks? I just got a bag of these spicy seaweed rolls from the H-Mart, I can air fry a bunch of them in maybe fifteen minutes.

Uh people said they wanted this, so here's an excerpt from an old, unfinished novel. That was later turned into a really good play that I've now lost because fuck me I guess. It centers around the main romantic pairing, which is a human woman and her android lover, and they're having some form of physical intimacy.

If you're a robot it's definitely the spiciest thing you'll read from my hand. Otherwise it's...you know, I don't know the impression it gives otherwise. Feel free to tell me.

Edna spoke in mostly static. She crackled and murmured, her hands gently running up and down my arms. I leaned down over her and lowered my voice to my own attempt at something sultry.

“Where’s your multi-tool?” I murmured.

I undid the tool to its smallest piece, slowly pulling the metal rod from its slot to both look sexy and buy myself some time. See, Edna’s made love to me plenty of times before. And, while she insists I’ve done things for her that she’s found pleasurable, I’ve never had the knowledge or resource to really - as Blanca might say - “get up all in it”.

With my tool in hand I grazed it up and down Edna’s chest. She responded, twitching her hands arching of her back. Then I stopped.

“What do you want me to do?” I said.

Edna muttered something indistinct. I grinned and tapped the tool against her skin.

“What was that, Missus Millay?”

“…Open me,” she said, her voice slightly warped.

That was a start. And it was actually something I was sure I knew how to do. But having Edna writhing underneath me like this was a bit of a power trip, so I decided to see how much further I could push things.

“I don’t know how,” I said innocently.

“What.”

“You heard me. I don’t know how,” I leaned over her receiver and whispered coyly. “You’ll have to guide me.”

Edna made a noise that wasn’t quite human or machine. Then her eyes went dark for a second. When they came back, something in her was much calmer. I was briefly worried she was already ready to sleep, but then she spoke.

“There is a slot above my chest cabinet,” she said. “You…you have to stick the L-wrench in - ah!”

I did as she said, as gently as I knew how, and as soon as I did she gasped in a perfect C sharp. It was shocking, and then weirdly sexy.

“What now?” I said.

“You know what to do next.”

“I know,” I almost laughed. “I just want to hear you say it.”

Her voice had turned into the grey area between two radio stations. I couldn’t make out what she was trying to tell me, and I was ready to cut this seduction attempt short to make sure she was okay when she reached to hold my hand in place.

dOnt StoP, she implored, her voice echoing on top of itself.

With her hand guiding mine, we slid the wrench through the slot until we heard a definite popping sound and Edna’s whole body spasmed.

I opened her chest cabinet, slowly, unsure as to what she could and couldn’t feel. Edna, meanwhile, was singing under her breath, a haphazard song strung together from a dozen different languages.

At this point I wasn’t sure what to do. Her syringes were still intact, with three filled with air and three more filled with her tranquilizers, so whatever erotic thing I’d figure out had to also keep into consideration the amount of medical waste we’ve brought with us into the bedroom.

Do i LOok pRetty? Edna echoed.

This was the part of Edna I fell in love with, the pure artistry of her existence. Everything had a purpose and an intrinsic beauty. If her skeletal system was displayed in a museum I’d visit it every day - but I’d live a miserable life knowing I’d never be able to touch it.

I could touch her, though.

“You’re beautiful,” I told her, lightly running my hands across the glass of her syringes.

She moaned in notes and chords under my touch. It wasn’t the prettiest melody, but god did I want to hear more.

I slid my hands deeper in her chest, around the casing that protected the vials from spilling and to the structure that made up her spine. I traced the ribbons of her wires that hung like ivy, tangling my fingers in them like I’d done so through her hair years and years ago.

And she sang - my Edna, my darling wife - she sang every song that ever was and ever will be. The ones I knew I sang along with, and the rest I listened gratefully, happy to hold her voice in the palm of my hands.

-

hey look surprise author commentary! i just finished reading this again one more time before posting and i just want to say that it's hilarious that the only way i can write smut that works in my eyes is when i make it completely non-human and non-sexual. i was maybe eighteen or nineteen when i wrote this and i definitely didn't think i was ace. which is hilarious.

i'm hilarious.

[hymnserendipity]

Demon atsumu, pt. 2

Mention of pain, mention of violence

Atsumu leaves the house, the door locking behind him with a click. He has some business to take care of, after all.

Half an hour passed, and he finally returns to the house. He opens the door, and enters the house to find you sitting on the floor in the exact same place he left you. An hour without food or water, and yet you didn't even move once. Even with all your previous behavior, he feels mildly impressed. He walks up to you, looking down at you sitting on the floor.

"I'm surprised you're still here." He remarks, his voice a slight monotone. He can't imagine many humans in your situation would dare to stay sitting on the floor of a demon's house.

"I was waiting for you." He's slightly taken aback by your statement, not expecting you to respond that way.

"You could've at least sat on the couch." He says bluntly, gesturing over to the couch in the living room.

"It's too clean, and i'm too dirty"

"That's a silly reason." He rolls his eyes lightly, before sighing again.

"You're taking a bath." He says. "Follow me before you dirty the floor, too." He leads you to the bathroom, a decent-sized one in the house. He turns to look at you again.

"Undress and get in the tub." He instructs bluntly. He watches as you slowly removes you clothes in front of him, trying to hide your smirk, he was hot, his eyes staying on your frame. You're small and thin, not surprising considering your situation. Yet he can still see the faint muscles on your body, probably because of your constant running around.

"Stop dawdling and get in already." He says, his eyes still lingering on your body. He watches as you enters the tub, the lukewarm water now covering your body. There's faint dirt on you skin, and your hair is in a messy state.

"Wash yourself. There's soap in the basket at the corner." He says bluntly, gesturing towards the basket.

"Thank you"

"Don't mention it." He mutters, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He simply watches as you begins washing herself, his eyes taking in the sight of your small frame in the tub. He's surprised with how comfortable you seems, bathing right in front of him as if it's nothing. He doubts a normal human would ever be this at ease in front of a demon.

"Don't you feel uncomfortable, bathing in front of me?" He asks, an eyebrow raised.

"No, should i?" He lets a small huff slip from his lips again, his eyes still on you.

"You're a human, bathing in front of a demon. Not even a hint of trepidation. Yes, you should feel uncomfortable."

"Hmm" after a while you finally finish to take your bath, the water is brown.

"That's disgusting." He mutters, looking at the color of the water. It's practically brown from how much dirt had come off your body.

"Get out, and dry off. There's clean clothes for you on the counter."

Atsumu watches as you gets out of the tub, wrapping a towel around herself. His eyes linger over your body for a few seconds before looking at the counter. There's a pair of clean clothes placed on it, and he gestures at it.

"Put those on."

Atsumu observes silently as you pulls the clean clothes on, his eyes slowly running over your frame. Your small stature, your smooth skin without the dirt on it, the way your clothes gently hug your body. And your eyes... Your strangely fearless eyes.

He hasn't seen such a beautiful human before. He slowly steps towards you, his gaze still on your body. He's so used to seeing frightened, weak humans, and yet here this person is, standing in front of him in his house like it's nothing. Your eyes meet his, looking up.

"You're a strange human." He finally remarks, his eyes still studying you. He reaches a hand out, gently grasping your chin with his fingers and tilting your head upwards slightly. His eyes scan over your face, his touch soft and careful.

"Completely unafraid of me." He murmurs, his gaze lingering on your eyes. He's baffled by how calm you seems in this situation, the way you simply lets him touch you without a hint of trepidation. He can practically feel your heartbeat, yet it's calm and measured, as if you're not facing a demon.

"Don't you realize the position you're in? Anyone else in your shoes would be cowering in fear." He says quietly. "Well, i don't have shoes." He lets a huff slip from his lips, his hand still holding your chin.

"That's not what I'm saying, human." He answers, his voice a hint of amusement. "It's just... most humans I've met would be screaming and begging for their lives, not standing here so calmly." Even tho i scream it would not be different. Plus you told me you will not eat me." He tilts his head slightly, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smirk.

"You're not wrong. But most humans still can't keep themselves together, even if they know they can't escape." He continues, his gaze on your face. "You, on the other hand... You're not even shaking." Atsumu leads you to the kitchen, gesturing for you to sit down at the small table. His eyes linger on you for a moment, the way you obediently follows his instructions without question.

"Sit down." He says again once they reach the table, watching as you takes a seat. Then, he walks over to the counter and picks up a plate of food he had prepared previously.

He walks back and puts the plate down in front of you.

"For me??"

His eyes linger on you as you looks at the plate of food in wonder.

"Yes. It's your meal." He responds, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Don't look so surprised, I told you I would feed you, didn't I?"

"And what do you eat?" He huffs again, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think you already know the answer, don't you?" He says, leaning his arms on the table. "We're demons after all. We eat humans."

"But everything? Like the flesh or it's okay just the blood?"

"Both." He answers, his eyes on you. "Flesh and blood are what sustains us. That's how we get energy."

He pauses, watching as you continue eating.

"Why? Feeling scared now?"

"I was thinking i can give you some of my blood, but not flesh." He's taken aback by your offer, not expecting it at all.

"You're offering your blood?" He says, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Just like that?" "You gave me clothes, a warm bath and food" you reply as you start eating. He huffs again, slightly amused at your reasoning.

"And you consider that enough to give your blood to a demon?" He asks, a slight smirk on his lips. "You're a strange human." "Well not too much..." He leans back, crossing his arms and watching you. He can't deny that the offer is tempting, especially since you're willingly giving your blood without being forced to.

"Hmm.... How much are you prepared to give, actually?" He asks, his tone casually amused.

"I don't know, you are the expert." He lets out a short, dry chuckle at that. You're certainly an interesting human, willingly giving your blood to a demon like him. You finish you're plate with a great smile.

"Let's start with a little." He responds, his gaze still on you. "You're too weak and malnourished. I don't want the amount of blood I take to pass you out." He watches as you finishes your food and moves over to the couch, your casual attitude still there.

"Hmm...come here." He instructs, gesturing you to come towards him. As you walks over to him, he grabs your hand and gently pulls you down into his lap, making you sit straddling his thighs. Your body is small and light, easy to move around. It feels warm against him as you sits straddling his thighs. He can feel the softness of your skin through your clothes, your weight gently perched on his legs.

"Lean your head backwards. I need to access your neck." Atsumu says, his voice low and quiet. Your heart is beating fast, rapid and panicked as you obeys his instructions. Despite everything, there's still a trace of fear in your body. He can feel the way your body trembles the slightest bit as you leans your head backwards, exposing your neck to him.

He can't deny that the sight is almost.... satisfying. He reaches a hand out to tilt your head even more, his fingers gently holding your chin and exposing more of your neck to him. Your pulse is beating fast and panicked, betraying your fear even more.

"Try to relax." He says, his voice low and soft. "Your heart is beating too fast. You'll make it hard for me to take your blood." He can feel your body stiffen in his lap, your breathing slightly rapid. It's clear you're nervous and scared, but you're still staying still, letting him touch and move your body as he pleases.

"Keep still." He says again, his grip on your chin gently firm. "I won't hurt you, unless you move too much." With your neck exposed and your body still, he can see the vein pumping against your skin, a steady and rapid pulse. He can hear your breathing, short and fast.

He leans in, his mouth hovering over the exposed neck, right on top of the vein. He can feel the warmth of your skin against his lips.

Atsumu lets his hands slowly move down to grip your hips, holding you in place on his lap. He notices your body slowly starting to relax, the tension easing just a bit under his touch.

"Good." He murmurs, his lips still against your skin. "That's it. Relax. You're doing well." He lets one hand slowly move up from your hip, slipping up your side, his fingers running gently over your skin. He can feel your body shiver slightly under his touch, your skin still warm and soft.

"Stay relaxed." He mumbles, his mouth hovering over your neck. "You're doing good. Just keep still for me." Your body is slowly relaxing even more, the tenseness ebbing away as he continues to gently run his fingertips over your skin. Your pulse has slowed down slightly, and your breathing is less shaky.

He can feel your body shiver again as he touches a sensitive spot, his hand lingering just a little longer over that area. He finally sinks his fangs into the flesh of your neck, his grip on your hip tightening slightly.

Your blood is warm and metallic, flowing onto his. As he continues to drink, he can feel your hand on his chest, your fingers gently resting against him. It's an unusual gesture, seeking comfort from a demon who's feeding off your blood. He doesn't mind, though. Your actions only serve to make him feel more intrigued by yku. Despite your fear, you're still reaching out, searching for comfort in him. He finishes drinking, slowly pulling his fangs from your neck. He can see two small spots of blood where his fangs were, marring your skin, it hurted.

"You did well." He praises, his voice low and quiet. He gently wipes away the excess blood on you neck with his thumb. "Hmm." He notices how weak you suddenly seems, your body slumping against his chest limply. You're still conscious, but your body looks like it can barely hold itself up.

He gently runs a hand over your back, steadying you. "Are you alright?" He asks, his voice a low murmur. "Yes.." He continues to gently pat your back, feeling your body weak against his chest.

"You're weak." He comments, his hand still running on your back. "You've lost more blood than I intended."

He feels your body grow limp on his chest, as you fell asleep. Your breathing now slow and even.

He continues to run his hand on your back, the motion almost comforting. Such a small, weak human, collapsing against him like this. He looks down at you, asleep against his chest. You looks so small and fragile, yet he can't deny the strange sense of satisfaction he feels from having you like this.

He continues to gently pat your back, his mind contemplating your fragile body in his lap. He keeps stroking your back gently, his other hand sliding up to brush a strand of hair from your face. Your features look so peaceful when you're asleep, your breath soft against his chest. He finds himself staring at you for a while, just watching your peaceful expression. You're so fragile and weak right now, completely vulnerable in his arms.

The thought makes him feel a strange mix of protectiveness and possessiveness. This weak human, completely at his mercy, asleep on his chest. He gently lifts your slumped body off of his lap and places you onto the bed, your body limp and exhausted.

He gently tucks the covers over you, making sure you're warm and comfortable. You looks so small in the bed, your body petite and fragile. As he pulls back, he finds himself staring at you for a moment longer. You looks so peaceful, so vulnerable in the bed.

He finally pulls away and turns to leave the room, but he can't help but glance back one more time. You're still asleep, your body curled up under the covers, your chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.

He can't deny that he's somewhat captivated by you. He stands there for a few more seconds, watching your vulnerable form in the bed.

Finally, he forces himself to look away and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

[that-spider-fan-over-there]

No because the more I - and many, many others think about it, why five chapters to wrap everything up? I keep thinking of reasons and only one makes sense to me, but.

BNHA is considered a world-wide best-seller, being WSJ's 6th most sold manga (last I checked, which was a few months ago). So many mangakas and artists taking notice and praising it, its big demograohic getting bigger because of its 10th anniversary in two weeks (!), more people are inclined to see it through the end. Hell, even taking out worldwide demographic, it's still very beloved in Japan- they had an entire tour event for the manga, for goodness' sake. It's a weird decision from a financial and commercial standpoint.

From a creator standpoint, Horikoshi likes taking his time writing his arcs down to the most ridiculously minimal details- the most likely possible positive outcomes is that Horikoshi is either planning a sequel or changing publishers but that's a whole leap in logic-

1. A sequel implies we aren't following the Hero Academia like stated by 424's release; and there's a whole bulletpoint of things that need to be addressed; a sequel wouldn't make sense because why tackle everything in a different part of the story?

I've seen people suggesting another MC, but. Remember BNHA as of now took place in the span of 2 years in-universe, but in real life, 10. Izuku's story isn't finished and we have another character (which now I'm certain it's Tenko) to meet, that would be more cluttered than the PLFW Arc.

Others mentioned a possible spin-off, or a time skip, but that's a another can of worms because that's a new world/POV with missing development from the characters we know, which would be interesting but. Again, a whole list of plot points to address; why not address here and now? Surely that's not what we imagined when 424 said "we need to go even further beyond" the end of the story, right? And one more thing: Volume 41 still does not have enough pages to fill in a tankobon unless the page count is huge and that's why we got a two/three-week break. Even then it doesn't fully solve the problem.

2. Publisher changing is another story, because it implies WSJ is falling on hard times, cutting corners, Horikoshi's contract wasn't renewed, or someone offered a better deal, but once again, big money-maker. Which we know it's BS. Not to mention the amount of legal jargon and time it'd take for that to happen behind the scenes for this to be possible- a month ago we got Hori saying he didn't know how long it'd take to reach the ending, and all of these complications would delay, if not officially put the series on a hiatus similar to OP, right?

And then there's the "five chapters is a long epilogue" or the argument, which I do agree, unfortunately. But this is why I'm so baffled; the amount of shit that needed to be addressed in the story- Todofam, Himichako, Spinner, Rooftop Trio, Hitoshi in Class 2-A (Class 2-A in general, really), Izuku and Katsuki's state, future and relationship, societal rebuild and re-evaluation of pro-heroes, what happens to Toshinori now, if OFA is really gone or not, Hero Commission, Mr. Compress's fate, Hawks being Quirkless now, the mystery man from 425, the list goes on and on. Nothing about hero society in BNHA was shown to change, then what's all that talk of long epilogue for if we can barely focus on five of these? So much to answer and not enough time for all.

IDK, there are more "positive"* theories of Horikoshi ending the "Academia" part of Boku no Hero and focusing on the more ambitious part of the manga in a part two, a la Chainsaw Man, but even that feels like wishful thinking- especially because of so many second series being. A mess, to put it lightly.

Horikoshi does deserve the break from writing and drawing, don't get me wrong, ten years of pumping up a story of this quality is not an easy feat, but it's so weird considering all the loose ends. If he did decide to end on his terms, well. His decision, I guess, even if it still feels off. But it is the only explanation that makes sense, in my opinion. Especially with the amount of breaks he needed to get because of health conditions- Shonen Jump is very harsh on their mangakas after all.

*I say "positive" because he said he didn't want it to be a long runner, and he did say he's interested in a BNHA spin-off and elevating the light novels. And that he'd "see us again in Jump" on the countdown announcement, so. There's that, take that as you will.

Maybe I should try and be positive as well, there is a chance this is not the end of the main series yet, and we're getting, Idk, a rebrand of sorts? Maybe Horikoshi will show up at Jump Festa and be like "surprise I got more tricks up my sleeve". Back to the beginning, but not quite the same. Hell imagine if he decided to go to the actual beginning: Boku No Hero one-shot from 2008. Call it Boku no Hero Agency or something like that. Hah.

Won't erase that I am feeling shitty about this right now- but, what do I know, I wanna choose hoping for something as wishful as this until the end of the ride rather than dwell on the doomerism of it all. Just wanted to talk about it. Makes me regret I chose to get into BNHA late in the game, but I'm still glad I got to ride in at all. I hope this "final bow" isn't gonna feel as incomplete as I fear it will.

I. Guess we'll have to wait and see with fingers crossed then. *sigh* So, with that said.

I guess I wanna hope for the handhold, at least.

[blackjackkent]

OK, we need to go find Shadowheart's parents, but first -- Viconia is still alive! Despite us having non-lethal off, she's still rolling around on the ground in pain and available to be talked to.

"Finish it. Send me to Lady Shar's embrace."

Hector is, to be honest, completely ready to, but Shadowheart reaches out a hand to stop him.

"She still has answers I need."

"Make it quick."

"My parents," Shadowheart snaps. "Where are they?"

Viconia gives a harsh laugh that morphs into a hacking, agonizing cough. "So blunt," she hisses. "Have you forgotten all the interrogation techniques I taught you? Where is the finesse?"

"ANSWER ME!" Shadowheart roars.

Viconia's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "They are right through that door," she says coldly. "In the Chamber of Loss. Where they have been all along." She pushes herself up painfully on her elbows, her eyes locked on Shadowheart's. "You saw them many times - only we made you forget. But *they* didn't forget."

Her smile widens, seeing the words strike home as Shadowheart flinches back. "They watched as we molded you. They watched. They wept. They bled - often at your hand." She coughs again, wipes a bit of blood at the corner of her mouth. "It may not be a happy reunion. But it will certainly be a memorable one."

The cold brutality with which the woman speaks strikes Hector like a punch in the stomach. He feels sick with disgust and rage. "Such cruelty..." he whispers, unable to form any more coherent response.

"Why?" Shadowheart says haltingly. Her voice is trembling and she makes no effort to hide it. "Why me? Why all this effort?"

"Lady Shar commanded me," Viconia says sharply. "And I obeyed. I do not question. I merely act as she wills me to." The light of fanaticism is flaring in her eyes again - and with it, a note of bitter fury. "I had an enclave in Waterdeep, you know. Much grander than this. Shar ordered me to raze it, kill all who followed me - claim they betrayed me, when in fact I slew those who showed nothing but loyalty." Her eyes narrow. "Shar had me do that, and I did. To cover my tracks. To usher in you."

Shadowheart has gone pale as a ghost, her eyes wide, baffled, terrified. "What are you talking about?"

"You became my mission," Viconia rasps. "To take a child of Selune's and turn her over to Lady Shar. To show that all light fades, and darkness will prevail in the end." In spite of her grievous injuries, she is struggling to try and sit up. "All this was to make you into what the Dark Lady needed you to be. The planning. The training. Those deaths in Waterdeep. It was all to groom you to replace me at her right hand side." Her lip curls in rage. "And still you threw it away!"

Hector's breath is stuttering rapidly in his chest. The terrible cruelty, the blasphemy, the evil of what this woman is describing is hard for him to wrap his head around. Everything in him cries to lash out, to take Selune's vengeance against all Viconia's darkness.

But he holds himself in tight control, growls between his teeth, "What do you want to do, Shadowheart?"

She turns toward him, and as he meets her eyes, he is struck again by that weary grief that seems to have suffused every part of her. The enormity of what's been done to her is settling over them all, overwhelming, appalling. "I want to see my parents," she says softly. "And I don't care what happens to this one. She's been in my head long enough."

She hesitates, then reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder - a gesture simultaneously of gratitude and to steady herself. "Do what you like," she mutters. "I know you'll choose well."

She turns away. Viconia's eyes go very wide and she roars aloud with deep fury. "What are you doing?! Come back and finish this yourself! You owe me that!"

Though Shadowheart doesn't turn back, Hector can hear the bitter, humorless smile on her face. "Let go, *Mother,*" she says icily. "Embrace loss."

She walks away, leaving Viconia sputtering with pain and rage and Hector standing over her, his eyes hard.

"She stands at the same crossroads you yourself once did, Viconia," Jaheira says mockingly. "But it seems you are not quite the teacher you thought."

Hector's fists clench at his sides. In many similar circumstances, he might have considered offering mercy here; to kill in cold blood is not his style. But there is no question in his mind that this woman is a monster that cannot be allowed to live - not after what she has done in service of his goddess's deepest enemy.

Kill Viconia.

The blade sinks in deep. Viconia's expression twists in agony and maniacal devotion. "I draw near... my Lady..." she whispers, and sinking back against the floor, she goes still.

Hector sheathes his knife, looks down at her, feeling the same exhaustion he saw in Shadowheart starting to work its way through his own body. "Die, then," he mutters, "and be damned to you. And tell her Selune's servant sent you home."