#pawn double move

[anarchy-chess-archive]

You can do that??

[lizzybeeee]

DATV Spoilers - The Story We Lost

Posted earlier that I was compiling a list of lore/story threads that have been dropped with DATV's handling of Southern Thedas. The sheer number of things means that I've made this into two parts - this one focusing on all the story threads that have been effectively dropped.

Spoilers for the game ahead, of course.

If you've played the game then you'll know that Southern Thedas - everything from the past three games - was basically swept away by the blight.

A double blight should have catastrophic consequences for the entirety of Thedas, I don’t deny that, it’s nothing short of a mass extinction event – the absolute worst case scenario for all of Thedas.

However, waving away the fact that Southern Thedas - specifically every area you ever traveled to and interacted with in previous games – is gone, devastated by the blight, in a codex entry and line of dialogue makes it abundantly clear that BioWare is attempting to clean the slate so that they can move forwards with the game series with no ties to the previous ones.

The Warden, Hawke, and the Inquisitor effectively accomplished nothing.

As I put it in another post: I never expected them to consider every decision in game outside of the three options they gave us, but I certainly didn’t expect them to go scorched earth on the possibility of ever seeing the results of those decisions either.

How the lore has been handled in this game, summarized to “the elves did it” and “there’s been a shadowy organization in the shadows pulling the strings on everything” is absolutely devastating to the franchise.

The lack of care with which this was treated just bleeds, “There, we’ve answered all questions and finished with this era of Thedas. Moving on now.” At the same time, this destruction absolutely obliterated whatever story threads remained from the first three games.

Could BioWare bring these threads back? Yes, I suppose. But it doesn't change that it was so carelessly thrown aside in the first place.

If they didn't want people to care about their decisions and the impact they made on the world, perhaps they shouldn't have made that a feature of all the previous games.

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

Story Threads/ Plot Points that were dropped:

Limited my points to what was in the Dragon Age Keep and what points were brought up frequently in codex entries, conversations, etc...

Edit: I never expected all of these points to be answered in DATV - this is just a list of what was effectively brushed to the side through very bad handling of lore and story.

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

Dragon Age: Origins

What is the line of succession in Ferelden?

Things are looking very grim for Ferelden's succession and the Theirin/MacTir line if nothing is done. And nothing was done. The entire plot of DAO literally culminated in resolving this issue, yet no one seems to have learnt a thing from it?

- Anora ruling alone is unmarried with no heir - Alistair ruling alone is unmarried with no heir - Ruling together they have no heir - Alistair and a Cousland Queen have no heir - Anora and a Cousland King-Consort have no heir

The only potential candidate that can fit into several of those world states is Kieran.

Fergus Cousland, according to lore, is the second closest to the throne that is confirmed to be alive in DAI - potentially the brother in-law to the King/Queen of Ferelden.

Ferelden's succession with Alistair as King hinges on whether or not the Warden was able to cure the blight. Alternatively, it is hinted that he may be more resistant since he has dragon blood in him from Calenhad.

The potential implications of Kieran being the bastard son of the King of Ferelden.

Kieran being used as a political pawn to depose Anora using the Theirin bloodline.

DAI took away whatever destiny Kieran had with the Old God soul – that didn’t mean that BioWare had to take away everything else too. Regardless, it doesn't matter. Outside of Redcliffe, the rest of the land has fallen to the Blight - it's unlikely that any of this will ever be brought up again.

2. Did the Warden find a cure?

Unknown. Irrelevant.

Ferelden ended up blighted. Denerim fell. If Ferelden rises from the ashes, it will be without any sign of their influence. Any mention of them will likely be their title alone - no mention of their accomplishments.

3. General Questions about the Landsmeet

What happened to Anora if Alistair is named King? Who rules the teyrnir of Gwaren following the blight?

What happens to Alistair if he's exiled? We know Teagan finds him in DA2 but what happens after?

If Leliana becomes divine does that mean that Connor Guerrin is potentially an heir to Redcliffe?

4. Companion Plot Threads

Morrigan's sisters - the many daughters of Flemeth.

Shale's quest to reverse the process of becoming a golem.

Whatever the hell Nathaniel Howe was going on about when you run into him in DA2 in the blighted thaig.

What, if anything, Avernus leaned from spending a literal age or two studying blighted blood.

5. Zevran's Crusade against the Crows

RIP Zevran's one-man crusade against the Crows and their child slavery ring.

DATV messed up immensely by portraying the Crows as more of a ‘found family’ rather than the horrifically abusive organization it was set up to be.

The very same organization that preys on the weak and disenfranchised - honing them to be tools for the nobles/powerful of Thedas - are now the heroic freedom fighters of Antiva.

The literal decade he spent hunting down the Crows and their leaders is up in flames. No mention in DATV whatsoever.

Wasted a perfectly good opportunity to have a schism in the Crows, with Zevran at the helm of kicking out the antaam, taking in Crows who are are sick of what's happening.

6. The Dwarves of Orzammar

The impact of Bhelen/Harrowmont's reign - ruthless progression verses strict traditionalism

The rumours of an uprising of the casteless dwarves in DAI

Will we ever hear of noble House Brosca or Queen/Lady Rica? Nope.

Will we ever hear of the son that Aeducan can have with Mardy? Nope. (RIP Duncan Jnr - I still love you)

The Anvil of the Void and potential links it may have to the Titans.

No more fine goods direct from Orzammar

The entire caste system has been simplified by Harding in DATV to effectively be: 'surface dwarves' and 'deep roads' dwarves.

7. The Magisters Sidereal / Awakened Darkspawn

According to a codex in the Descent: one went mad, consumed another, and the final magister fled into the Deep Roads.

Corypheous + Codex Magister + the Architect (most likely) = 4/5 magisters remaining? Possibly?

Reminder that it's hinted that there's an eighth Old God that was struck from the records of Tevinter.

The Architect and his Awakened Darkspawn.

No, it was all the elves. They're all dead now anyway. Thanks BioWare.

8. The Guardian and the Urn of Sacred Ashes

"Where did you come from, where did you go? Nobody in Thedas will ever knowwwww."

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

Dragon Age 2

Dragon Age 2 was pretty self-contained, with most things being tied up in Trespasser or DAI. The worst of the plot points abandoned relate to the companions in the game and the lack of closure/answers about them.

General Questions:

Kirkwalls, apparently, endless line of 'provisional' viscounts and constant political instability since Varric ran off to go after Solas.

According to DA: Absolution the Red Templars are still in Kirkwall...yet the show is set after Trespasser - when Varric is viscount? When he mentions that they threw a parade when getting Meredith out of the Gallows?

Aveline, Varric, Merrill and whoever remains of the Kirkwall crew apparently just allowing red templars take over the Gallows?

What happened to Petrice if she lived?

What happened to Feynriel if he went to Tevinter?

If Hawke lives following DAI - where are they?

I have a whole list of lore that's also been brushed over: the Sundermount, Corypheous, the Band of Three etc... I decided to put them in Part 2 since I feel they fit in more with 'lore obliterated' rather than 'abandoned plot points'.

2. Companions

Merrill's Eluvian:

Merrill spent years fixing an eluvian with a piece of string, a potato, and some gum - managing to actually do it.

And it meant nothing.

Eluvians are now a fast travel hub - all mysticism and awe at this marvel of magic are completely gone. Whatever sacrifices Merrill went through to save her sliver of elven history is meaningless.

Imagine if Merrill's eluvian aided in the fight against Solas - if having it intact gave you an advantage against him. Imagine Merrill weeping as Bellara fixes every other single eluvian in ten seconds with her magical omnitool.

Fenris and Slavery in Tevinter:

DATV utterly trivializing slavery in Tevinter is abominable.

Disregarding everything Fenris went through, everything he ever fought for, and making it something barely touched upon in DATV is insanity.

You wouldn't know there was slavery in Tevinter if the Shadow Dragons didn't drop a line or two about it.

Fenris' entire story of going to help free the slaves is diminished because no one wanted to show the ugly, dark side of Tevinter in DATV.

DATV has retroactively made this choice for him to be so unfulfilling.

Where is Anders?

What happened with Sebastian's crusade against Anders? Was he ever captured? Was he executed? Are you telling me that no templars ever pursued this man fanatically after what happened in Kirkwall?

Does his fate vary if Hawke was friends/romanced him?

Varric appointing a new Viscount’s Keep healer called ‘Banders’ who just happens to sleep in the same room as Hawke and their children call him ‘daddy’ lmao

Does his fate vary according to who is Divine? Vivienne hunts him down, Cassandra puts him on trial, while Leliana pardons him?

How does he react to Leliana abolishing the Circles? How much does he weep when the rebellion fails and the mages are destroyed? This man instigated the starting event for DAI and drove most of DA2's major plot and he's just...gone.

The Hawke Siblings:

From DAI we know that Warden Bethany/Carver are safe, but what happened to them if they're in the Circle?

Give us Knight-Commander Carver and First Enchanter Bethany Hawke, you cowards! Have them dismantle the Gallows and be the shining examples of human decency we know they are.

What happens to them after DAI and the Mage/Templar War is concluded? In a world that can embrace or reject them - how do they find their place?

Varric

Trespasser gave him a satisfying conclusion - he's viscount, he's in his shit hole of a city, he's surrounded by the people that he loves and cares about. He has the chance to truly build up Kirkwall after all the shit its gone through.

It just feels so bitter, so meaningless, that they gave him the end that they did in DATV. Varric should never have been the one to go after Solas - the only reason it was him was because he's a popular character in the franchise and was used to draw interest.

Why not Cole?! Who was literally mentioned in Trespasser as being on hand to help his friends - who has the ability to get through to Solas in a way no one else could?

No proper send off - no acknowledgement from those who loved him as to his fate...Varric was reduced to a marketing gimmick to draw people in who wanted to see if he died or not.

Isabela

Isabela's story was brought to a close in DAI - she became an admiral, got a fancy hat, helped the Inquisition, and kept in contact with those she loved/Hawke if defended from the arishok.

Imagine bringing her back in a terrible outfit, having the most sex/gender positive character misgender another person, and making her part of the group that steals cultural artifacts from others.

The tomb of Koslun and Aveline would like a word with you?!

The entire Lords of Fortune group is also extremely bland? No commentary on the ethics/effects of colonialism/cultural appropriation - because confrontational topics/ideas are not allowed in this game. Just like topics of slavery/indoctrination.

Her entire character just seems to have regressed from DA2. Why bother having her cameo in the game if she's not going to meaningfully contribute/comment on whats happening?

Edit - Thanks to bunnyiscthulhu for reminding me that Isabela's mother sold her into marriage...yet she does nothing when Taash's mother is outright forcing them into a life they don't want. Isabela, who believed that everybody should be free - that no one should be forced into a life they don't want, just...lets it happen to another person?

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

Dragon Age: Inquisition

What's going to happen to the Red Lyrium that's popped up across all of Thedas?

Ferelden, Orlais, Kirkwall - all areas are reported to have red lyrium on the surface.

What happens to the Red Lyrium in Suledin?

DAI speaks about how they can never stop the spread of red lyrium, only slow it – animals, insects, organisms - whatever life is in the ground is all susceptible to becoming blighted by red lyrium. Suledin Keep in particular was utterly devastated by the Red Templars - what happens to life there?

2. What happened to Corypheous' Inner Circle?

What happened to Samson? How long did he live *if* he’s given the chance to help Cullen? Can something good come from his cooperation?

What happened to Calpernia?

Looking at previous concept art for DATV she was a companion - freeing slaves, gossiping about Samson & Corypheous. Just...what a waste. Any potential insight we could have gotten into Corypheous is gone.

3. The Mage / Templar War:

How does the world vary if you conscripted vs allied with either?

How do the remnants of what faction was not chosen fit into this new world?

How does the world deal with abominations and weird magic shit now? Is an alternative to the Order made if it's wiped out in DAI?

How is Cullen's templar clinic doing? If the templars still exist, how is Divine Victoria changing/adapting the Order to better support mages/templars?

4. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts:

How do Orlesian politics reflect who was made ruler?

Is Gaspard looking to expand into Ferelden once more? Are the elves being brutalized under his rule like they were by his chevaliers? Does he do away with the grand game like he threatened in DAI?

How does this differ if Briala has collared him? How do his supporters feel that Briala has his balls in a vice?

Do Celene and Briala stay together? Do things improve for the elves and for the culture of Orlais at large?

Do improvements for the elves mean that Solas' arguments to his elven agents are less persuasive?

If Florianne is alive what the hell is going to happen to her? How quickly does she fall on her blade after being forced to wear flat shoes for the rest of her life?

How quickly does shit fall apart if you get all three to cooperate lmao

Friendly reminder that DATV sets up that all of Orlais, except for the Winter Palace has been overrun by the Blight - and that a coup from the Venatori is inevitable, likely resulting in any ruler dying.

5. What is the line of succession in Orlais?!

Why does every noble family in Thedas have no contingency plans for if their head of government dies?!

Part of why we needed to resolve the leadership problem in DAI was because there was no clear, direct heir if Celene died!

Celene has no heir Gaspard has no heir

Florianne planned to frame Gaspard, murdering Celene herself, leaving no clear heir to the throne - Orlais was already in a civil war, the council of heralds/nobles would have all campaigned in their own interests...that was why this was so important!

Orlais shortsightedness and pride in their nation being the greatest in Thedas led to them almost falling in a single night!

6. Here Lies the Abyss:

What are the ramifications of having the Warden's exiled verses remaining in the south?

Trespasser literally states that there's a schism in the Order because some Warden's believe they should touch grass more often and not listen to some bloke up in Weisshaupt for what they do down in the south.

Perfect opportunity to have the wardens remaining in the south mean something! Greater numbers in the south means that there's a greater chance of holding against the blight - while greater numbers in the north can effect if Antiva/Tevinter end up blighted in the first attack!

How does public perception towards the Wardens/King of Ferelden change when they learn they were exiled for committing human sacrifice to demons?!

Give us a warden coup and First Warden Alistair / Blackwall, you cowards!

7. The Well of Sorrows:

What was the point of drinking Mythal's bathwater?!

It's been set up as something that changes you. Bound to Mythal forever?!

Retroactively, Solas feels like he's going mental about nothing! One of the few times he ever breaks - he begs you not to - and...for what? Nothing.

DATV does not acknowledge that in the slightest. Such a waste and disappointment of what was made out to be an impactful decision in DAI.

Imagine if the Inquisitor drinking from the well made us forced to fight against them during the fight with Solas - imagine if Solas, in a world state who hated the Inquisitor, used them as a puppet! Just like the envy demon in DAI - and no one notices until its too late. Imagine Mythal herself, wanting Solas to go through with his plan - (or one of the other evanuris) using an Inquisitor/Lavellan he loved as a puppet - imagine the horror he feels as another one of his friends is reduced to nothing more than a mindless slave of the evanuris once more. Imagine the devastation as he watches Lavellan lose all sense of self - perhaps swaying him to, maybe, not go through with his plan?! Imagine having Cole come back to help save the Inquisitor - or Solas begging Rook to save them.

8. DLC Implications:

What happens if Hakkon is not slain? What happens to Southern Ferelden and the Avaar?

How does the rest of Thedas react to the truth of what happened at Red Crossing and the Dales? How do they react to learning that Inquisitor Ameridan - First Inquisitor and leader of the Seekers - was a dalish, elven mage?

What happens if you do not save the mines in the Descent DLC? How badly is Orzammars economy crippled? There are already rumours of riots occurring within Orzammar - it this enough to push the caste system over the edge?

9. Elven Uprising and the War with the Qun:

The elven uprising that was implied to be occuring all over Thedas as a result of years of oppression, systematic abuse, and Solas’ influence? What happened to it?

Where are the agents of fen'harel?!

It was set up that Solas was planning to use this rebellion as a smokescreen for his plans - the elves, all rebelling for good reason, rallying to his cause while Solas planned to restore the world that once was. The rest of Thedas would only see an elven uprising, not knowing the true face behind it until it was too late!

The war between Tevinter and the Qun?!

Everyone conveniently forgetting that the Qun literally attempted to assassinate every noble family in Thedas? Why was there no exalted march because of this? This should have destroyed any accord between the chantry and the qun. There would absolutely be blood for this – Tevinter could have attacked the Qun and all of Southern Thedas would have applauded - no one would have differentiated between extremist qunari and the normal qun, especially not after Kirkwall.

The implication at the end of Trespasser that we could convince Solas to abandon his plans? Him saying that he welcomed giving us the chance?!

The difference that the Inquisitors friendship, love, or hatred could have in either convincing Solas to take another path or damning him to go ahaead with his plan, no matter the cost?

Have our decisions in previous games matter! How we treated the elves - if we worked to better their lives or 'put them in their place' - can be used to convince him that the world can change! Have the ripple effects of these decisions be seen when the elven gods return, blighted - does the world turn against the elves, hardening Solas, or does the world defend the elves from those who would blame them?

Why was Sandal in the Crossroads?! Where is Bodahn?!

10. Divine Victoria!

How does the world of Thedas change with Leliana, Cassandra, or Vivienne at the head of the chantry?

How does Tevinter react to having a mage divine?!

Do relations change between both nations because of this?

Leliana allowing elves, dwarves, and even qunari to join the Chantry! Leliana also allowing members of the chantry to get married if she's romanced by the warden.

What happened to the Seekers? Are they being rebuilt?

Does the chantry inform the masses, the rest of the mages, that they can CURE tranquility?!

If either Leliana or Cassandra was romanced - what are the implications that may have on the chantry?

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

No wonder the writers insisted that none of the past choices would have an impact on Veilguard - they literally went scorched earth on everything we ever did.

Ferelden is blighted - any legacy of the warden is gone.

Kirkwall is destroyed - any impact Hawke had is gone.

The hard won peace/order of the Inquisition was rendered meaningless since every single place that you went to and helped is now destroyed by the blight.

Orlais' ruler will likely be assassinated by the venatori who are plotting a coup with the nobles - making whomever you chose obsolete.

AND IT WAS ALL THE WORK OF THE MAGICAL ILLUMINATI FROM ACROSS THE SEA???

[jesuistrestriste]

dilf!art donaldson and saltnpepper!patrick zweig..

art is divorced from tashi, and has been for about a year now, but they still obviously have a kid together. he gets her every other week, and hired you to be her pseudo-nanny when he has to meet with trainers or students at stanford from time to time (he coaches tennis now after retiring from the sport)

and sometimes, when he comes home after it gets dark, he'll bring patrick.

you'll be sitting on the couch after having put his child to bed, and these two tall, toned, older men will laugh softly with one another (about something you couldn't be expected to know) as they walk in the door.

and.. sometimes.. they'll join you on the couch.

art on your left, patrick on your right.

they were a little tipsy the first time they considered doing it, but now they come up to you completely sober and will put their hands all over you. teasing touches at first, and then it'll escalate.

it always does, and it always get you all warm and eager.

art will kiss and suckle at your neck; one of his calloused hands reaching up to turn your head towards his friend so that he can get better access to your flesh, and patrick will bully his tongue into your mouth as soon as your lips are in front of his.

the brunette will groan into your mouth and push his greedy fingers down into your waistband while art licks over your pulse. slips them right into your panties too, the pads of them slicking over your folds.

"mmm, god... sometimes i forget how quick you get wet..."

and you'll whimper and squirm until patrick finally starts to give you what you want (but not without a few good bits of begging first). art actually has to pull back and remind him to be nice to you.

tells his former doubles partner to "take it easy” because you're sweet, and you’re soft, and you’re also the best babysitter he's found in nyc.

he can't lose you.

the two of them grope and knead and lick and fuck you quietly (pat's guiding hand under your jaw + art's digits filling your mouth) until you're a sticky mess of their come and your drool.

patrick will usually apologize for being too rough—while art moves to get you water—and will pawn over $40 for plan b.

(it's plan a, really.)

art will roll his eyes, saying something about how taking plan b so frequently can disrupt your body's hormones, but he's all talk.

could he go out and buy extra-thin condoms for when him and his buddy wanna spill their loads up against your cervix? sure! but he wont. the feeling of you squeezing around him, milking him without a stupid latex barrier between your bodies, never fails to knock the wind out of his chest. it’s too damn good to pass up.

he gets major cognitive dissonance from this shit, but he can't help it.

he'll scold patrick for continuing to fund your purchases, but he'll encourage you with his eyes to go out and buy the pill anyways.

youre young and cute and bright and impressionable. he would hate for him or patrick to get you pregnant, because that would mean that you'd be stuck here with one of them in the city instead of going out into the world and exploring.

...but maybe that wouldn't be so bad..

one of them would be able to keep you forever; hold you whenever they want, kiss you whenever they want, stuff you whenever they want.

hmm.

maybe next time art'll tell you to skip the contraceptive.

[strawberymilku]

Checkmating You

featuring: Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader

genre: smut, friends to lovers troupe, kinda vanilla sex, semi-public, oral receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: wow, wow i didn't knw blade and danheng smut would get a lot of notes, tysm for tht. he's my first 5*, and forever has my heart. its basically friends to lover, and jy being freaky deaky on the chess board, wink wink.

word count: 3.9k

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Yeah I will win this time," she replied, organizing the chess pieces, she looked rather calm, unlike the other times, she was so mad that she wiped all the chess pieces off the table in rage because she hates to lose over her friend, Jing Yuan, the general of Xianzhou Luofu. She sipped her tea, coming up with a strategy in her head.

Jing Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle at her determination, picking up his own hand of pieces. He took a sip of his tea, his eyes narrowing as he studied her body language and tried to understand the strategy she was planning. He raised an eyebrow playfully. “You sure? Because I know that look you’ve got…” He paused for a moment before breaking apart the silence. “I’ve got something up my sleeve this time. You won’t be so sure you’ll win this time.”

"How sure are you, that I won't win this time?" her eyes shifted boringly into his golden ones, moving the pawn two steps forward, she won’t lose this time, for sure.

“Pretty sure…” he replied with a yawn, his eyes glinting mischievously. She could tell he wasn’t lying.

“You think that pawn’s going to save you?” the general asked, almost mocking her. This time, his hands were hidden underneath the table as he moved each piece strategically.

“I’m feeling more ruthless this time,” he continued, his eyes narrowing on her while she made her next move. 

She made the left knight move forward, eyes looking up to see his reaction and focus on the board. She rather not talk to give herself a mysterious appearance.

His golden eyes narrow as he takes note of her move.  The general's face remained stoic as he moved his pawn forward to keep it in check. His smirk shifted into a small smile as he glanced at her eyes, studying them. "Hmm... not too bad," he says, his lips tilting upwards, she just reminded him of when they were teenagers, and how silly that he used to have a crush on her.

The general moved one of his rooks forward, and they exchanged glances again. He seemed to be analyzing her every move and thinking ahead, his heart thumped more when he stole a few looks at her determined face. 

"I have a question, how come you're not married yet?" she brought up another sensitive topic, she knew how to tick him off as she moved the right side of her knight forward. It was too much for Jing Yuan to double-check if he heard her correctly and if she was really asking about his marital status.

Jing Yuan shifted his eyes up to hers, and she could see how the general was thrown off just as she expected.

"Why is that a topic of interest?" he asked, his voice even and steady as he moved his rook to a good position. She was trying to throw him off his game for sure.

"No, it's funny how you are popular, and yet you're single, aren't you close to your thirties?" she spoke as if time was a warning, she waited for him to finish his move.

"Popularity and romantic relationships aren't correlated," the man said in a calm voice, avoiding the question about his single-ness entirely. It was true that he was popular, and many women had an interest in him, but he seemed to prefer being alone.

He moved his knight forward, but then looked back at her, his voice slightly lowering. "Are you asking because you're interested in me?"

She never knew that question would backfire on her, she furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head. She was obviously blushing from the unexpected question from her one true friend, she cleared her throat to maintain her composure, with a simple ‘no’.

‘Bullseye’, he tilted his head back before chuckling and his voice in a husk, leaning in towards her slightly. "Maybe I should ask another question in return. Why are you blushing all of a sudden?" he seemed to know how to play with her strings, leaning in a little closer, making eye contact with her.

"I-uh, let's just finish the game shall we?" she cleared her throat once more as she could sense his breath so closely towards her, throwing her off, he indeed made her lose words and for a moment she forgot what strategy she was using for chess. He has the upper hand here, of course. He is Jing Yuan.

The general can't help but smile lightly. She was flustered. There was a silence between them before he spoke up again.  "I take it that means you lied about not being interested?" his eyes weren’t on the board, his eyebrow raising suggestively as his fingers tapped the table playfully, patiently waiting for her answer.

"What?!" she looked up at him. "N-no way, I only see you as a friend," she started stuttering, she knew he was playing his psychological tricks on her. She already fumbled on the chess moves, making a grave mistake.

Minutes passed by, and the general was enjoying seeing her get nervous and flustered. He had her all to himself, and he was going to take advantage of the situation while he had it. “Checkmate,” he was smugged with his tactics. The girl was left speechless, she looked so hot and bothered, she didn’t like losing like this again, was he playing with her feelings this time too?

“Then… what’s with the blushing?” asked Jing Yuan, leaning forward as if he was going in for a kiss, his breath grazing her lips. It was only just a centimetre apart.

"No, no it's the weather obviously-" her words were cut off with a kiss, really? Right in front of the game?

He had made his move, not the chess, he couldn’t lose her like he lost his chance before; he never really cared about playing chess with her, it was the time he enjoyed with her. He kissed her, enjoying the feeling of their lips meeting and the surprise that crossed her expression.

He pulled away after a magical moment between them, smiling down at her. "You didn't seem very interested a moment ago," he whispered into her ears, leaning his forehead against hers.

She knew he put her in a cupid’s chokehold, she covered her face out of embarrassment, red spreading across her cheeks, it was time. Time to confess all the feelings they had suppressed for years: 

"Yeah, I like you. A lot, since we were teenagers," she admitted with a blurt, not daring to look into his powerful eyes.

Jing Yuan's lips curved upward into a small smile. Actually, it was the real checkmate he was aiming for earlier, his breath tickling her ear. "You have feelings for me? Really?" he whispered, one of his hands coming up to rest against her cheek. He was genuinely surprised at how this love game turned out.

"I, I do, I thought it was impossible so I tried to move on.." she coughed up all the words finally, she had been holding, gazing into his golden eyes. 

"You thought it was impossible to love *me*?" he asks with a light smile, his eyebrows creasing together curiously.

He didn’t seem to understand why she thought it was impossible to love him, but the general took in her reaction. Her eyes are so soft, and her blush is so adorable. How could he possibly refuse her?

He shifted his seat closely before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him.

As he looked deeply into her eyes, "How could you think it was impossible? My entire being and heart belongs to you," the general whispered like sugar was a thing before he ate just now, his eyes beginning to shine in the dim lighting of the courtyard.

"Not like. *Really* like. You're not just a good friend or my best friend to me..." Jing Yuan spoke in a softer tone, still hugging her in his broad shoulders, his voice barely escaping his lips.

"Would you like to be my love and my other half? I want to care for you, protect you, and love you till the end of my days... and beyond," Jing Yuan finally had the urge to confess and asked her out, his heart pounding in his chest, as he waited for her reply.

"I would love to become your lover..I want to nurture you and support you and love you until my days end.." she said in the sentence with more boldness, it is time, Time that they develop this relationship more extremely matter.

He liked that answer, how much she was giving in towards his proposal. His face brightened like a warning sun to her response, his smile growing wider than ever. The general's heart pounded in his chest rapidly, and his eyes were on her lips. This was a moment he's been waiting for since they were teenagers.

"You'll be my lover? Is that a yes?" the general asked again, wanting confirmation before he pulled her into another kiss. 

"Yes.." she replied, leaning her face closer towards his lips, as their lips collided together like two worlds bonded. It was just him and her, them against the world. The background noises of sparrows didn’t seem to be in the picture or the sound of the waterfall at their back. 

Their lips moved in unison, not hiding their feelings away, his hands wrapping around her. He pulled her even closer, wanting each piece of her to be pressed against him. They kissed passionately - neither wanted to let go easily for now...

Their lips didn't break away from one another for a long time, even though it was probably quite late. He had always known he loved this woman, and now, finally, he could call her his lover. 

He wanted to claim her, no he needed to claim her

Hence, he went feral for his desire for her. Their kiss suddenly became a hot mess, as Jing Yuan placed her on the large chessboard, not even wiping the pieces away, 

"Jing Yuan?!" she gasped as he made her lay down on the huge board with some of the pieces remaining on the board, he had been longing to do this whenever they played chess. He wanted to claim her as his, right on the board, he had been holding his patience as it was wearing thin.

“Nothing,” the general replied nonchalantly, his voice thickened with desire and as he leaned closer towards his body.

He placed one hand on her cheek, another hand pinning her wrist to the board for a moment, kissing her for a few seconds, his eyes looking down at her in pure adoration - wanting her. His other hand travels down her neck, gliding her collarbone, and down to her thigh, where his hand finally rested.

Kisses weren’t enough, his breath was getting closer to hers. His hands move to touch her, exploring her body, but he pulls away for a moment to give her a chance to respond. “Is this too fast? *Can I have you right here, right now?*” begging for her permission to please her right on the chessboard.

"N-no, go on.." she looked pretty on the chess board with the chess pieces lying around in his eyes, a body sculpted to look beautifully aligned with the other chess pieces, her breaths hitched on his neck, making him go crazy with her warm vanilla scent, he wished to smell further.

The general whispered into her ear, his breath brushing against it and making her warm. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the moment sink in as he moved in to kiss her again, bruising her soft red lips with his rough ones.

His lips met her neck as he parted away from the gentle kisses, and his hands slowly began to glide up her arms. He wanted to take her shirt off, but he still wanted to make sure she was comfortable for a while. But the general is losing control of his thoughts - his desire for her is growing out of control. 

He couldn’t control himself as blood rushed between his thighs, she was so beautiful enough to want to claim her right on the chessboards, she was his wildest dream.

"You're my queen, you know that?" he replied putting the queen piece in her mouth, making her bite on it. "Good, I will now make you feel like one," his hands were touching her whole body, ready to please her, as a queen should be treated right.

He made her the queen in more than one way, and Jing Yuan loved every second of it. 

He couldn't help but touch her and kiss her neck, he wanted to worship her. He wanted to be devoted to his Queen. His lips nibbled on her neck, with a red mark, his voice filling her with admiration and want. 

A king needs his queen on the board, doesn’t he?

Jing Yuan didn't even care anymore that they were outside in a public area. Not that Lieutenant Yanqing would intrude right now, he was off to a prolonged mission to chase the Stellaron Hunters, and he let the prisoner escape on purpose just for this moment.

The general leaned down, his breath on her neck making her skin feel hot. "Are you... okay with this?" he asks calmly, as his lips move to kiss her neck marking her, he was strong enough to tear up her clothing with ease, ripping them apart, they were covering her beauty indeed.

He gasped as he took a moment of appreciation for her curvy body, naked, he loved every part of it. His lips pressed on her chest, kissing it with each praise, the general taking his time to make sure she was comfortable with him. “Your skin is so soft, my love,” he whispered after kissing her stomach too, showering with every possible kiss until his hands reached her soaked-up panties.

The heat on her skin quickly gets intense, and the general's fingers begin to gently touch her wet folds, rubbing her nub making the queen piece she was biting, fall out of her mouth as he rubs against her wet slick, making the sloppiest noises and a moan escaping from her lips.

“So wet, for me, maybe it’s true you have feelings for me, yes?” he chuckled near her ears with a coy tone, prepping her entrance with her juicy coat on his double digits of fingers. “Can I have your taste, queen?” he was such a gentleman for wanting to please her, pushing in her wet cunt, in and out with a pace upwards, his fingers could feel her velvet walls tightly.

“And so tight for me, I can’t wait to feel that on my cock,” his lips let out a few moans, ramming her tight hole, taking his two sloppy fingers, licking the white liquid on his hand, admiring as if it was an artwork he has done on her, tasting every drop of it.

“You taste nice as well, I think I want more~” he teased as he spread her thighs with the force he had on her, “Please?” he demanded if she wanted more as well, giving a peck on the thighs, looking at her hungrily. He literally wanted to eat her right away, like a wolf, pouncing on his prey. His golden orbs glistened, waiting for her pleas. 

“Y-yes, general. I want you to taste me too,” her breaths became heavier, and there was embarrassment still written on her face, therefore, he placed his head between her thighs, kissing all her wet folds, licking her up, tasting the hot liquids melting on his tongue, pleasing her as much as he wanted. 

The boner in his pants grew further, hot pre-cum leaking out of his underwear, as he let out a growl, licking her sensitive bud aggressively, he looked up for a while to pause if she was having a moment of her life as well, with a smug look. He is indeed, doing a good job in giving pleasure towards his queen. God, he couldn’t wait to prove how much love he has for you.

“Would you want me to continue more, my queen?” he gave a teasing look, and she couldn’t help but give a pathetic whiney noise, saying yes and please, with moans in between, sometimes, his name as well, which turns him on, his cock was absolutely aching for her touches, but he has to be patient somehow, there is no way he could hurt her if he didn’t prep her enough, he resumed his eating out activity by abusing her clit, circling on it, fingers inside deep inside her, moving in a vigorous movement, that earns more higher pitch whines and pants from her throat. 

She was a literal hot mess for him to claim him, just for her. He couldn’t maintain further, he had to do something more that than. “May I?” he unbuckled his military white pants, right away, the monster dick full of veins and heat, sprung out from his black boxers. 

There is no way this thing could fit inside, yet he knows. Does he even care if it would fit in? No? The look on her face was priceless, seeing his huge cock for the first time, which amused the general. 

“Any questions, love?” he let out a few manly chuckles, not surprised how surprised she looked right now, giving his large dick a few pumps from his hands, pre cum still oozing out from the tip, dripping on the wooden board she was placed on. 

“No way, no way that will fit in me,” she shook her head, still amazed at the size of his shaft. 

“Oh, yes, yes it will, just relax, beautiful,” his words were comforting, as her back eased up on the wooden chessboard, listening to the general’s words like an obedient pet.

He played on her folds with his tip a few times, wanting her to beg for it, edging her wildest pleasure by placing his tip against the clit several times. But it was an unexpected swift move, as he obviously, entered her tight wall in one pace, stretching deep into her warm pussy. He felt proud as a loud moan was filled across the area, it would be enough for the cloud knights to know what they were up to. “God, you are so warm, love,” he did give her time to adjust to his gigantic size, which let out a grunt, kissing her lovingly, showering her face with kisses, by cupping her cheeks, giving her time as much as she needs, so she could be distracted from the sudden pain. “I-I” the female tried to catch some breath, “I think I’m ready,” she exhaled softly, wrapping her arms around his back, feeling every inch deepening into her warm cunt, his tip almost kissing her cervix a few times, he began to move slowly, but sensually, she could feel herself wrapped around his cock. 

His thrusts were slow and romantic. “My queen, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he let out a few moans, kissing her lips again, praising how warm she was, pumping his dick into her tight walls, feeling every part of her cunt clenching on his wrapped up dick. He could cum in any second, but he has his own policy: she must cum and feel satisfied before him.

The gentleman, put his hands on the chessboard to adjust his position further, sweat dripping on her body and on the chessboard, the place smelt like a mix of their scents, sweat and sex, he growled as he could feel her cervix, he went over and over again to the sweet spot, kissing it with his tip, earning more moans from his queen.

She looked very beautiful at that moment, hair spreading across the board, under him, vulnerable from his unfaded desires of wanting to fuck her until her body squealed in pleasure, the place was filled with filthy noises from their sex, pressing on her cunt with sloppier noises, his base of his cock, slapping her skin with a different pace, he was going faster. “You can take my cock, pretty well right?” he asked more questions, wiping the sweat across her forehead, not stopping his fastening motions while she moaned more with immense lust. “Yes, general. I can take it in well for you,” her voice was getting hoarse, praising him like an Aeon she needed to worship and give her everything to him. He kissed her lips once again, his hands on her waist so he could get better access in slamming his cock again, this time, abusing her cervix. “I want to fill you up, queen,” he confessed his filthy sins in her ear, giving a playful bite at the end. This man knew how to come with his words, he wasn’t even pausing his merciless thrusts, making her stomach turn into butterflies and her guts tightening from every praise. 

She gripped his back, fingers deep in his skin, Jing Yuan doesn’t mind the little pain, he received on his bare skin, it was too little to compare to how much ecstasy he has been having while fucking her raw, feeling every part of his desires fulfilled by his one and only. “Cum for me, queen. I want to make you feel good, I should be the only man you could please you well,” he was demanding, as his movements weren’t stoppable, the girl was getting more of his love, and he wanted to show her what she was missing out for years. “Ahh, Jing Yuan, I’m close,” she panted as her warm breath tickled on his neck, there he felt her hole orgasming, spasming on his cock, before he didn’t even come inside her. She doesn’t really care how her back was hurt from the hard board, she just wanted him at this very moment. “Good job,” he helped her catch her breaths, wiping the sweat, admiring how he made her feel good with his dick. “But I must first, do my part as well,” he continued rolling his hips, deepening inside her hole again, dick twitching and aching from cumming inside her. White liquids started to fill her post-orgasm insides, arriving after her pleasure, there was a burning sensation in her womb. He finally let out a few satisfied moans, saying her name like a prayer, as if she were the drug he took this morning. “You are so beautiful like this,” he bent over after he took out his cock, admiring the masterpiece of finishing her up. “I love you,” he kissed her forehead gently, whispering on the chessboard. “I love you too,” she replied lovingly, falling in love deeper into his golden eyes, putting his white strands away from his face, and pulling him in her embrace.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ “Master Jing Yuan, the board seemed to be so wet, did Y/N rage again and spill tea on it?” the innocent Yanqing happened to be the one playing after her, touched the board and the queen piece was still missing from the board on the general's side.

It made the general recall the memories she had with him together, making him giggle like a maiden falling in love. “Ask Y/N that for later,” 

Yanqing just gave a weird look not sure what was going on but he knew after that chess play, the two friends both had become lovers instead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

[solarmorrigan]

(a silly little continuation of this post)

No. Hopper takes it back. The worst part is that Eddie actually seems to be good for Steve

It would be one thing if they were terrible together – if they argued and clashed like the opposites they seem to be, left each other in a foul mood or said nasty things to each other (things that would maybe see Steve complaining to Hopper, that would maybe let Hopper go tell Eddie to leave Steve—and by extension, Hopper—alone. Y'know, in a world where Steve would open up to literally anyone about that sort of thing). But they don't. In fact, Steve seems happier than Hopper's probably ever seen him

He's remembering to eat more

It’s not that Steve starves himself, it’s just that he doesn’t seem to remember that he needs to take breaks and have something to eat. But if you put food in front of him, he’ll eat it, and Eddie has apparently put himself in charge of putting food in front of Steve. He keeps packets of trail mix and candy bars and even fruit in his bag or the pockets of his jacket and passes them off to Steve whenever he seems to think it’s necessary

(And yes, Hopper has, unfortunately, noticed that the fruit is most often bananas. “Your favorite,” Eddie had said once, pressing one into Steve’s hand with a smirk that had made Steve roll his eyes, but he had still stood there and eaten it in front of Eddie, and Hopper wishes he could bleach that entire exchange from his mind)

Eddie gets Steve to loosen up in ways he almost never does anymore. Gets him to laugh

They both come in from the cold one afternoon, Eddie without a pair of gloves in sight (it’s freezing, and the idiot is going to lose his fingers, and Hopper catches himself wondering for a moment if he has an old pair of gloves he can throw at the kid) and he proceeds to sneak up on Steve and shove his hands right up Steve’s shirt. Steve makes a noise so high-pitched his voice cracks and reflexively elbows Eddie in the stomach. Eddie doubles over, wheezing out a faint “Son of a bitch,” but then he’s laughing. And then Steve is laughing, turning around to tell Eddie, “You’re such an asshole,” and then they’re both laughing again. (Christ, they’re both idiots)

Steve is always a little on edge around the kids. Always watching, even if he isn't obvious about it. Always ready to step in, even if he rarely needs to

But Eddie seems to take some of that weight off of him – does it pretty well, Hopper will begrudgingly admit. The kids think Eddie is cool (for some reason) and they listen to him when he orders them around like they're pawns in that weird little game they all like to play. And as much as Eddie seems to like encouraging chaos, he also knows when to nip it in the bud – like when Dustin and Mike get into some kind of argument that's about to escalate into a shouting match, and Eddie walks by in time to smack them both in the back of the head and tell them to pipe down, before Steve (or Hopper, for that matter; neither of them are great fans of shouting these days) can move a muscle

It’s during one of the kids’ movie nights, though, that Hopper realizes he’s well and truly stuck with Eddie Munson

Hopper doesn't usually participate in movie nights. Yes, the Hopper-Byers house is always open to any of the kids (younger or older), yes their living room is big enough to squeeze most of them in around the TV, but Hopper tends to leave them to it and sit with the actual adults (meaning Joyce. Sometimes Murray). But El had grabbed his hand and pointed big brown eyes up at him and asked him to stay and watch, so he had. Like after everything that's happened, he's not gonna spend all the time with her that he can? Even if it means shooing at least two teenagers out of his recliner? (Actually, especially when it means shooing teenagers out of his recliner)

Halfway through the movie, Hopper spots some movement on the far end of the couch and glances over to see Steve leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes. One of those bad headaches, Hopper would guess. And then Eddie is leaning forward, too, rubbing a hand over Steve's back and leaning close to say something to him softly enough that it doesn't carry over the sound of the movie

Steve immediately shakes his head and sits back. Eddie purses his lips, seems conflicted, and then turns so he's got his back pressed to the corner of the couch. He tugs at Steve's arm until Steve relents and leans back against him, and with a surprisingly economic amount of shuffling, Eddie's got Steve cradled up against his chest (which only looks a little funny, considering Steve is actually a bit broader than Eddie), one arm wrapped around his waist and one hand covering Steve's eyes, blocking out all the light

It's an immensely vulnerable position, but Steve just fucking melts back against Eddie, the tense lines that are almost always present in his body when he's got a bad headache disappearing over the second half of the movie, until he seems to have fallen asleep by the credits. And Eddie—chronic fidgeter, who can't fucking hold still to save his life—just sits there the whole time, placid as can be, letting Steve sleep

It's terrible

It's goddamn intimacy and trust and the kind of care that Steve bristles at from almost anyone else, and Eddie goddamn Munson gets away with it, and he's really goddamn good to Steve

And Hopper has no choice but to continue putting up with him

(But it could be worse, he guesses. Could be a lot worse)

[strawberrysands]

Pretty hot - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: nothing tbh, just tooth rotting fluff and sum kissy kissy

You shivered for the umpteenth time that day while your breath formed little clouds in the cold air. You hadn't been able to get warm again ever since JJ announced you'd be going to Alaska.The case was over and everything went well, but the plane couldn't take off until tomorrow morning due to the snow.

"God, why Alaska?" You murmured to no one in particular. A small smile formed on Spencer's lips at that.

"You're not a fan of the cold?" He asked. The glare you gave him was enough to make him chuckle. Looking at you, he felt completely warm inside. He thought your red nose and rosy cheeks were absolutely adorable.

"We're here." Hotch said. Looking up from the snow, you see a rusty looking building in front of you.

"That's supposed to keep me warm tonight?" You sigh. Morgan laughs and ruffles your hair.

"Awww, poor baby." He mocks you before you give him a playful shove.

--

"Bad news." Hotch announced once you were all settled in the hotel lobby. "There's only four rooms left, and six of us. Some are gonna have to double up."

"I'm not sleeping with Reid." Derek said almost immediately.

"Dibs." Garcia said while grabbing Derek's hand.

"I'll sleep with you." You say to Reid before realizing how creepy you just sounded. Even Rossi was almost laughing at the way you worded that.

"I- I mean, I'll room with you." You cough awkwardly, your face now red from something completely else than the cold.

--

"Wanna play?" Spencer asked you as he gestured to the chess board in the lobby. It was still early to go to sleep, and the room was probably gonna be way colder than the lobby was.

"Sure." You smiled and Spencer moved to set up the game.

It was your turn to start, but your hands were shaking so hard from the cold that clumisly moved a pawn forward. Spencer frowned at that; he didn't know you were THAT cold.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, continuing the game. And for the first time that evening you felt a little warm insinde from his concern.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "Just cold, you know."

Spencer snorted and took your knight from the board. You silently cursed yourself for not seeing that earlier before looking at Spencer again.

"What?"

"Just cold. In my memory, the definition of 'just cold' isn't teeth chatter, hands shaking and purple lips." Spencer looked up from the board and your breath hitched in your throat. The utter adoration and warmth in his eyes was enough to even make the snow outside melt. Their caramel color gave you a sense of belonging, of home. Oh, how you could get lost in those eyes.

"It's also your turn, by the way." He added with a small grin.

"Right." You coughed and moved one of your pieces. "Check." You said proudly.

"Impressive," he complimented you, "but," He moved his queen and suddenly, "checkmate."

"Wha-" you started, but immediately gave up. It was too cold to actually attempt to understand what you had done wrong. The game was nice though, for a minute, you had actually forgotten about the temperature.

"One day, I'll beat you."

"In your dreams." He said playfully.

You yawn loudly and rub your hands together to try and warm them up a little.

"Sleep?" Spencer offered and you nodded gladly.

--

What a typical cliché, was the first thing you thought when you entered the room. You guessed it, there was only one bed. For a moment, you found yourself imagining Spencer and yourself in those typical romantic scenarios where this happens. You shook your head to clear the thoughts and opened your mouth to say something you almost felt bad about. "You're taking the floor."

To your surprise, Reid was smiling. "I didn't expect anything else."

You settled down in the room while Spencer showered, slipping into your pj's and pulling the covers of the bed as high as possible. You had turned the heater in the room all the way up, but it didn't seem to do much. Shaking like a leaf, you waited for Spencer to come back in order to turn off the lights.

You looked up when you heard the bathroom door and were met with a mouthwatering sight: Spencer, with only a towel around his waist, curls still wet and water dripping down his chest.

"Forgot my clothes." He apologized with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"Please," you huffed quietly when the door closed again, "don't apologize."

--

It was the middle of the night when you woke up again from the sheer cold. Your started shivering and your teeth clattered against each other. This continued for roughly 20 minutes before Spencer sighed.

"Alright, I can't sleep with the teeth chatter." You heard him move and before you could process what he was doing, you felt the bed behind you dip.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed at him. He ignored your question and instead continued to climb into the bed with you.

"Body heat is the most effective way to get warn quickly." He said and you could detect something odd in his voice. Was he nervous?

You blew into your numb hands before sighing and turning around to face Spencer.

"Fine." You grumbled stubbornly. "Get over here."

He gladly accepted your offer and scooted closer to you, smoothly wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you as close as possible. You immediately blushed from his close proximity. "Uhm-" you started.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" Spencer asked concerned, loosening his grip on you a little to look at you.

"No, no-" you said, looking up at him. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized his face was mere inches from yours. You couldn't help it; your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his caramel eyes again.

One of Spencer's hands moved to your cheek, all the while looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable. At this point, his soft pink lips were the only thing your eyes could focus on.

"We should probably get some rest." You whispered, making no move to actually go to sleep.

Spencer leaned closer to you. "Probably." He whispered back. You could feel his breath on your own lips and you forgot to breathe.

"Spence," you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"just kiss me already."

He wasted no time after that; he connected your lips with a fiery passion but still with an unimaginable softness also.

His tongue softly prodded your lips which you gladly accepted, opening up your mouth. He let his tongue dance with yours before retracting it and leaning away from you.

You were breathing heavily and so was he.

Your eyes still closed from the kiss, you took your hand back from his curls and let it rest on your side.

"You warm yet?" He asked, making you laugh.

"Pretty hot, actually."

--

BONUS:

"What's got you two all smiley?" Derek asked the next morning at breakfast. "You sleep THAT good?" He smirked.

"You wish, Derek." You replied.

"I slept on the floor, just like you." Spencer said.

Hotch and Rossi, who were watching from a little distance, were both already sevretly profiling you.

"They definitely kissed, didn't they?" Rossi said.

"Most definitely." Hotch replied.

Rossi smiled big. "Excuse my cursing, but fucking finally."

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Potentate’s Chess Set
Wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement) ___ When found, this chess set is missing half its pieces. The set is contained within a case, which often doubles as the board when opened up. The case itself isn’t magical, but the pieces within it are. While the set is on your person and within its case, you can use an action to invoke one of its magical pieces. When you do, a spectral, Medium replica of that piece appears at your location before beginning to move. A spectral piece can move appropriately to how a normal piece would in a game of chess, in increments of 5 feet and up to a maximum range of 60 feet. For instance, a pawn could move up to 5 feet, but a bishop could move up to 60 feet in a straight line—albeit diagonally. If you’re not using a square grid, a piece can move anywhere within its range at the GM’s discretion. When you invoke a piece and move it in this way, it expends that piece’s use until the next dawn. The number of each piece you have when found is listed in its description. Use a spell attack bonus of +7 and save DC of 15 for each piece, or +8 and 16 if you have a complete set. 𝙋𝙖𝙬𝙣 (8): The pawn moves up to 5 feet, or 10 feet if it’s the first round of combat, and attacks a target within the space. On a hit, the target takes 2d8 force damage and must succeed on a Strength saving throw or be knocked prone. Alternatively, you can invoke the pawn as a reaction when a hostile creature’s movement provokes an opportunity attack from you. 𝘽𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙥 (2): The bishop moves in a line that’s 5 feet wide and up to 60 feet long. Each friendly creature within the line regains 3d8 hit points. 𝙆𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 (2): The knight moves 10 feet in a straight line and then turns left or right (your choice) before moving another 5 feet. At the end of the movement, it attacks the target within its space. If the target is Medium or smaller, the attack is made with advantage. On a hit, the target takes 5d8 force damage. If you roll an 8 on any of the damage dice, the knight’s use isn’t expended. 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙠 (2): The rook moves in a line that’s 5 feet wide and up to 60 feet long... Continued in the comment below! ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[cinnamon-galaxies]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩

Pairings: Alastor x gn reader Summary: In which you are an annoying simp and Alastor regrets claiming your soul. Warnings/Tags: gn reader, Emberlynn-coded reader, unrequited love, reader is obsessed with Alastor and he can barely handle it, second-hand embarrassment, really, it gets uncomfortable, a whole bunch of passive aggressiveness and sarcastic remarks, Alastor questions his sanity, reader is annoying af, Alastor being Alastor, trash-fic Wordcount: 3.6k A/N: I had this idea for months but watching the latest Helluva Boss short made me actually want to write it. I hope you like this trash fic. I have many more ideas for funny (and uncomfortable) moments between Alastor and our simping reader. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!

Spin-off: 'Curiosity Killed the Demon'

Masterlist

   Alastor was a man who never felt regret because every move he made was precisely calculated, every action driven by a purpose only he fully understood. He always had an ulterior motive in mind, ensuring that he was the one who came out on top. His every decision was meticulously planned, and every word carefully chosen to keep his game running flawlessly and his grip on control unyielding. He was a mastermind at the top of Hell's food chain. One of the most powerful and feared overlords, a dealmaker at heart, with hundreds – no, thousands – of souls bound to him, all following his every command, terrified of what might happen if they disobeyed. None of them ever dared to challenge their loyalty, always doing as he said. But one in particular stood out: you.

   Some might say you were just another sinner in his vast collection of pawns, but you were different. You followed him like a dog that didn’t even need a leash. When he called, you came. When he gave an order, you were already carrying it out by the time he finished speaking. You were completely, utterly devoted to him. And oh, Satan, were you irritating.

   Alastor remembered the day he met you as if it were yesterday. How could he forget? It was a memory that had burned itself into his mind like a brand on the hind flank of a horse. While most souls came to him begging for help, trading their essence for a taste of power or security, you practically threw yourself at him. Your eyes had been wide as saucers, lips pursed with desperate eagerness, and a strange gleam of excitement had nearly brought tears to your eyes.

   “Please, please, please! I’ll do anything for you!” you had begged, your eyes so wide it seemed like they might pop out of your head.

   Alastor had narrowed his eyes, the static around him crackling with an intensity that made your hairs stand up on your neck. “Anything...?” he had replied with a slow drawl, his grin turning sharp and menacing as he leaned in closer, towering over you. His sharp canines bared in a predatory smile that would make most people flinch, but you… you only seemed more excited.

   Had he known just how annoying you’d become, he might have killed and eaten you right then and there in that dark alleyway. Alastor was a patient man. At least, that's what he let others believe. But you often pushed him to the brink of madness, testing his limits as if you secretly anticipated getting double-killed. Had he considered featuring your squeaky voice on his infamous radio broadcast? More than a few times. The idea alone was deliciously tempting. He often fantasized about the sound of your screams if he ever decided to torture you. Yet, a deep-seated uncertainty always held him back. Some kind of deeply rooted fear that you might actually enjoy it. You were so wildly unpredictable that he couldn’t even tell if you would cry in agony or, disturbingly, moan in pleasure.

   The thought alone horrified him.

   No, he wouldn’t subject himself to that humiliation. If he weren’t already plagued by nightmares, the prospect of you enjoying your torment would certainly give him some. You were already haunting him in his waking life; he couldn’t bear the thought of you invading his rare moments of sleep, too.

   Your existence felt like a cruel joke. A fucked up twist of fate or perhaps the true eternal punishment Hell had in store for him. You were utterly infuriating, a disruptive presence in Hell's chaotic tranquility. And yet, he couldn’t deny that he found some guilty pleasure in your antics. As irritating and nerve-wracking as you were, you were the most entertaining thing he’d encountered in eons. Watching you embarrass yourself without even realizing it, witnessing your clumsiness, your stupidity, and being the object of your obsessive attention, the center of your world, was better than every drug advertised in Pentagram City’s most run-down district. As uncomfortable as you made him feel, Alastor had to admit that he secretly reveled in your desperate need for attention, your never-ending search for his affection and your unwavering, completely blind, loyalty.

   You followed him everywhere he went. Like a lost puppy you’d trail after him with an enthusiastic skip in your step, hopping around like a deer on a wide open field. Alastor didn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know you were there, because you always were. You followed him everywhere. To the bar, to the kitchen, to the hotel’s parlor or his outings. You’d probably even follow him to the bathroom, if you could. You were always there – eyes gleaming with devotion, your adoration conspicuous and radiating around you like the static in Alastor’s presence.

   It was suffocating.

   And he couldn’t even tell what was more terrifying: that you were so focused on him he could always feel your gaze burning through the back of his coat, or that your steps were so silent he couldn’t even hear them despite his almost preternatural hearing. Only an occasional squeak that made you sound like an excited guinea pig actually proved your presence, causing his ears to perk up and twitch in overstimulation.

   “Alastor!” your squeaky voice warbled through the corridors of the Hazbin Hotel and Alastor stopped in tracks, holding his breath in annoyance and his smile twisting into an uncomfortable grimace. With a silent sigh he turned around and tilted his head unnaturally to the side, his red and black hair swinging with the movement like a curtain.

   “Yes, my dear?” he retorted with exaggerated joy, the strain in his voice betraying the forced politeness and tinged with anything but patience. Today was one of those days he found himself regretting his decision to ever put that collar around your neck. He just wanted to be left in peace, not having the nerve to handle your exhausting presence.

   You grinned at him proudly and Alastor could feel his stomach twist, nausea creeping through his guts at the recognition of the lovestruck gleam in your eyes. When you didn’t respond instantly, he narrowed his eyes, his voice losing any of that faked patience, “What is it?”

   You shrugged your shoulders, though your grin didn’t waver. “Nothing!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, “I just wanted you to wait for me!”

   “Ah,” Alastor retorted, unimpressed, the uncomfortable feeling inside his guts increasing. “You know, you don’t have to follow me around everywhere I go,” he said, a subtle hint of irritation in his tone, hoping you'd understand that he wanted to be left alone.

   Your expression didn’t falter. In fact, it became even more eager, the gleam in your eyes so intense that Alastor could see his entire reflection in those dark orbs of yours. “But I want to be present whenever you need my assistance!” you exclaimed, interlacing your fingers in a gesture that resembled a pleading prayer.

   “I can always summon you, if that's the case,” Alastor quickly explained, still not convinced by your flimsy excuse for clinging to him like a parasite.

   “Oh, but I want to be close just in case you forget, my sweet Radio Demon!” you chirped, batting your eyelashes with saccharine devotion.

   Alastor cringed inwardly. Why exactly did he do this to himself again? Oh, yeah, right… He hadn’t yet decided if he wanted to wring your neck or keep you around for entertainment.

   “Well, that's very thoughtful of you,” he replied in a tone dripping with sarcasm. Before he could say more, you let out another joyful squeak. Alastor's ears flattened against his head as the high-pitched noise pierced his eardrums. He saw your eyes widen with delight and silently cursed himself for even attempting to sound polite – even if his words were more of a mocking jab than a genuine compliment. Yet, you seemed to take it as one. You trembled with excitement, your knees bouncing like a jackhammer. It was a wonder your vibrations didn’t send seismic waves rippling through the floor, cracking the occasional brick.

   Alastor let out a sigh. “My dear,” he said, his voice smooth as honey, “your… enthusiasm is truly unmatched. But don’t you have anything better to do than… following me around all the time?”

   You immediately shook your head. “No, Alastor-kun. I’ve devoted myself to being your servant,” you declared with unwavering certainty. “Besides, nothing’s better than being by your side!” You looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes, the adoration in your gaze both unsettling and pathetic. “I want to see everything you do, learn from you, be close to you. You’re just so… incredible!”

   Alastor let out yet another sigh. Although he found your flattery grating, he couldn’t deny the subtle boost to his ego from your words. He knew he was exceptional, but hearing it so explicitly was an indulgence he couldn’t resist. No matter how much you grated on his nerves. “Incredible, you say?” he repeated, and you nodded with such fervor that it was clear you genuinely believed what you were saying, rather than simply using your words to flatter him. “And what, pray tell, do you find so ‘incredible’ about me?”

   You blinked, obviously surprised by the question and took a moment to ponder an answer.

   Alastor chuckled softly. If you were already venturing into this territory, he might as well use it to his advantage and coax you into showering him with even more compliments. It was amusing how effortlessly he could manipulate you into praising him as if he were a deity, a god deserving to be worshiped. And it took barely any effort at all. You were so completely infatuated with him that he imagined you might even write a song for him – if only your singing voice didn't sound like a saw on the verge of breaking.

   “Well,” you mused aloud before gushing, “Everything!” You began to enumerate, counting on your fingers as you spoke, “Your power! Your elegance, your wit, your charisma! The way you command everyone’s attention with just your presence… How people are captivated by you… Your style, your old-fashioned charm, your impeccable sense of humor…”

   Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he listened, struggling to keep up with the torrent of words spilling from your mouth. He stared at you, on the verge of zoning out as he tried to manage the relentless flow of praise. Did you ever need to pause for breath? How could you talk so much without gasping for air?! It was almost impressive…

   “…like I said, everything, Alastor-kun. I mean, you’re the Radio Demon! You’re… absolutely remarkable! And I’d follow you to the end of Hell and back!” you concluded, your endless monologue finally coming to an end. Alastor’s grin widened, not from the sheer volume of praise you’ve just thrown at him, but from the amusement of your desperate eagerness to win his attention. From the moment you met him in that dark alleyway, you had craved his affection. It wasn’t that he had found you helpless – no, you had actively sought him out. Why? He had no idea. He would never understand your obsession nor the full extent of your feelings for him.

   “Why, thank you, my dear…” he forced out between clenched teeth, his jaw tightening without him even realizing it. “It’s always nice to hear how much you admire me, but… let’s not linger on it any longer…” he added, his voice betraying the discomfort that always crept in whenever you were near.

  You stared at him, your confusion practically palpable. “Why?” you asked, genuinely confused and a bit taken aback by his abrupt change in tone. “You asked me what I think of you. I’m just being honest!”

   Indeed, he had. But he hadn’t expected you to gush on endlessly like the Niagara Falls – even though, by now, he should’ve known better. Why did he even ask, knowing full well you were unpredictable and always found a way to annoy him further? Was your presence really so irritating that he tended to forget his usual caution? Alastor was a polite man after all and he valued manners above all else. 

   Manners.

   Manners, manners, manners.

   He prided himself on manners. But you? You weren't worth any of them. He needed to remember that.

   “Oh, my dear, I’m only concerned that your little brain might overheat from thinking too hard. We wouldn’t want you to strain yourself and get a headache, would we?” he replied, his tone thick with mockery, every word dripping with sarcasm. He could see your eyes widen and your pupils dilating.

   “Aww, Alastor-kun, you're so considerate!” you cooed, entirely missing the veiled insult.

   Alastor chuckled, his lips curling into an exaggerated smile while his eyes narrowed, feigning a semblance of care. Your delusion was almost painful to watch, though there was a certain dark humor to it.

   “Why, I'm simply concerned about your well-being! After all, too much... admiration could lead to a most unfortunate accident,” he continued, flashing his sharp teeth in a menacing grin, a predatory glint in his eyes. His pupils shifted to radio dials for a quick second and the static around him crackled in a dangerous intensity. The threat in his words was clear, but knowing you, you’d probably overlook it entirely, twisting it into yet another misguided belief that he cared about you. Which he didn’t. Alastor cared for very few people, and you were certainly not one of them.

   A strange sound – something akin to a dying hamster’s squeak – escaped your lips and ripped him out of his reverie as you started bouncing up and down again. Alastor couldn’t help but wonder, for a second time, how the floor beneath you didn’t give way and send you tumbling several floors down, far away from him and into a dark, twisted corner of Hell where you would never bother him again. Or maybe you would just break enough of your limbs to keep you from trailing after him for at least the next six weeks... Either way, the image in his head was delightfully hilarious, and he nearly chuckled, wishing to some kind of higher being to let this tiny mishap come true.

   “Aww, you’re so thoughtful! You really do care about me, Alastor-kun!” you chirped, and Alastor’s eye twitched. There it was – your joyful exclamation of utter delusion. Yikes.

   Alastor took a deep breath, his grip tightening around his cane. “Oh, yes… care…” he drawled. “Your well-being is... of utmost importance... so, considering you’ve been trailing after me all day… and the days before… and the weeks… and months…” he continued, his voice growing weaker with each word, “how about you take a break? Leave the hotel, spend some time with yourself, explore the streets of Pentagram City...” and hopefully never return… he finished in his head. His smile was sharp, his face settling into that same threatening expression as before.

   You waved a dismissive hand, grinning with a wide, toothy smile. “Don’t worry about me! I always feel so good around you!” you exclaimed with fervor, and Alastor suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. There it was again – that relentless, infuriating optimism that clung to you like a bad stench, no matter how much he tried to wash it away. How were you always so blissfully unaware of his disdain?

   “My, my! Such dedication... I’m almost flattered. But… have you ever considered, oh, I don’t know… finding a hobby? Far, far away from me, perhaps?” he said through clenched teeth, realizing yet again that he was still being far too kind. Why couldn’t he just scare you away? Were you really so pathetic that he couldn’t bring himself to be outright rude? Your antics must have really been some kind of messed up guilty pleasure for him…

   You tilted your head and straightened your back, gazing up at him with those unsettlingly large eyes. “Oh, but you are my hobby, Alastor-kun! My absolute favorite! Watching you, learning from you, serving you – it’s all I ever want to do! You’re my senpai, Alastor! My favorite deer boy!”

   Alastor’s eyes widened, and his grin began to falter, teetering on the edge of a frown, his expression one of sheer disbelief. Your... ‘senpai’? What in all seven circles of Hell was a ‘senpai’?! He might have considered asking Angel Dust the next time he saw that spider if he weren’t already convinced that the explanation would just traumatize him further. And did you really just call him ‘deer boy’?!

   His eye twitched once more, and then something inside him snapped.

   Alastor’s eyes darkened, the crimson on the verge of turning black again, the static increasing around him, crackling with charged malevolence. “Careful, my dear,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his sharp claws scratching the top of his cane with a metallic screech. “You’re walking on dangerous territory.” He stepped closer, looming over you like a tower of deep red and black, intimidating and far from pleased. He slowly got furious, the discomfort slowly turning into something he should’ve felt much earlier. Through narrowed eyes, he watched you flinch, though you didn’t step back. Instead, you straightened your back and tilted your head to look up at him, your mouth moving in a way that indicated that you were nervously biting your lip.

   Alastor’s smile widened at the sight, his yellow teeth flashing in the dim corridor, and the lights began to flicker around you, their energy drawn off by the crackling static around him. One blink, and his eyes turned black again, ticking radio dials replacing his irises, blood-red and dangerous as the demon himself. It took him only a flick of his hand to conjure the leash around your neck, its invisible form taking shape and turning solid glowing green.

   “If you insist on being a loyal little shadow, then perhaps I should teach you some manners,” he hissed, leaning down slightly, his grin stretching unnervingly wide. The collar tightened around your neck, a cold, burning sensation seeping through your bones as his words dug into your skin like jagged glass, a painful reminder of his control. He tugged on the leash, and you stumbled forward, eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat.

   “My, my…” he continued, flicking his tongue with a repeated motion that created a smacking sound, both unsettling and provocative. “If you truly want to serve me, you’ll need to learn some boundaries, my dear. I've been far too forgiving with you, but even I have my limits.” He pulled you closer until there were mere inches between you, his breath icy against your skin. You visibly shivered as his voice dropped to a low whisper, each word laced with sweet yet deadly venom. “After all, it would be such a shame if I had to... discipline you. And believe me, I can be quite imaginative when it comes to punishment.”

   For a moment, you just stared at him, and Alastor’s broad grin relaxed into a pleased smile, satisfaction blooming in his chest. For once, your reaction was exactly what he had anticipated. You were silent.

   Frightened.

   Oh, what a wonderful sight after enduring your incessant chatter for the past several minutes – months, actually. But he also knew this calm wouldn’t last long. A brief respite before the cycle began anew, and he found himself caught once more between annoyance and amusement.

   Perhaps, in some twisted way, he was a bit of a masochist. Because despite his power, his ruthlessness, his terrifying reputation as the Radio Demon, he continued to endure your presence and insufferable behavior if it meant he could find that brief moment of satisfaction when he saw that flicker of fear in your eyes. When he could finally silence that ceaseless admiration. When he so blatantly humiliated you with his words, degraded you with his passive aggression, yet you still met him with unyielding enthusiasm, somehow convinced he was speaking to you sweetly, when in reality, all he did was use his power over you to eventually put you in your place, reminding you of who he was and what he was capable of. 

   It was a game of control, an endless cycle where he used his dominance to break you down, only to watch you build yourself back up with even more deluded devotion. And while it should have irritated him beyond measure, there was something oddly gratifying about it – about toying with the boundaries of your blind infatuation and making you dance on the edge of dread and reverence.

   Seconds ticked by, stretching into what felt like minutes, and you eventually took a deep breath, releasing it in a long, shaky sigh. You blinked, once, twice, eyes still wide and pupils constricted. You shivered under his control, slight goosebumps rising on your skin. Alastor took in the sight, his satisfaction evident in the effect he had on you.

   You took another deep breath, then whispered in a low, breathless tone, “Fuck…”

   Alastor blinked and tilted his head, caught off-guard by the unexpected reaction. Confusion spread across his face, but before he could even formulate a response, you interrupted.

   “That was hot.”

   One second passed.

   Two.

   Three.

   Then, Alastor released your leash, hastily retreating as if he had just burned himself on a hot surface. His grayish skin turned pale, and his grin faltered into an expression of utter mortification. Within moments, his shadows enveloped him, and he seeped into the floor, leaving you behind in the hallway, bewildered and flustered.

   Maybe he should actually consider featuring you in his broadcast. Because that was the most horrifyingly unsettling response he had ever encountered. Some demons hid their cruelty behind a facade, blending seamlessly into their surroundings. And you? You were undoubtedly among the most insidiously malevolent of them all.

I had so many ideas for this fic but most of them didn't fit into the plot. So stay tuned for more Alastor x Emberlynn-coded reader content...

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER ONE — THE POISE, INTEGRITY and LUCK OF A KENNEDY

MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: you go head-to-head with your new neighbor, eddie munson, and lose something precious to you in the process. content warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI swearing, classic 80s classism, tommy hagan jumpscare, eddie munson jackin off word count: 3.4k

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you it ends well for you. 

I wish I could tell you that this is nothing but a bad dream, or a fugue state, or an extremely vivid hallucination brought on from that weed your friends buy from that burnout in the horrendous denim vest that is now your next door neighbor. 

I wish I could tell you that you’re not sitting on your designer suitcases in the weed-ridden lot of a trailer park, watching your mom (who is already it’s-five o’clock-somewhere drunk) charmlessly haggle about the rent. 

See, you used to have money, but now you don’t. 

You used to have a dad who wasn’t incarcerated, but now you don’t. 

You used to have integrity, but the IRS seized the last of that along with your childhood home in Loch Nora. 

I wish I could tell you that you weren’t totally fucked. But it seems that there’s no way this total shitheap of a situation could get worse–

“Need a little help with that?”

–except there is. There totally is.

You flex your hand, relieving it from it’s writing cramp. You’ve been hunched over your journal, perched on your ready-to-burst luggage for what seems like hours now– admittedly, you’re the kind of girl that’s used to valet service. Bellhops carrying your suitcases to your room when you used to join your dad on business trips. 

But valets never looked like this. Squinting at you from beneath his ratted-out waves, Eddie Munson gives you a once-over that makes your stomach lurch. You know him the same way everyone in Hawkins knows him– either barrelling through the hallways like a tweaked out autocrat whose only dominion is over his group of unwashed dorks or palming off baggies at parties. But there’s something about Munson that’s always rubbed you the wrong way. He’s so loud and defiant and achingly obvious, smug when he’s got no right to be. 

Especially now. 

“Excuse me?” you drawl, snapping closed the leatherbound journal. 

“Just wheeling out the welcome wagon. It’s not often we get new neighbors with so much…,” he pauses, gaze scanning over the boxes and bags and randomized ephemera being loaded out of the cheapest moving van Hawkins has to offer, “Shit.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, Munson, I’d say you were casing the joint.” In fact, you find yourself wondering where exactly your jewelry box is– y’know, the leftover shit your parents didn’t already pawn. The millieu of your grief made you forget about the high possibility of people in the trailer park stealing your stuff.

Munson grimaces. “Do I look like a thief to you?”

“You look like a drug dealer to me,” you snipe, smile all fake. “You might be looking to diversify your criminal skillset. How should I know?” 

From where you sit on your straining suitcase, you’re about eye-level with Eddie’s crotch. And call him a weirdo, call him whatever, he doesn’t mind the view. As much as he’d like to pretend he’s above the discordant buzz of Hawkins’ gossip scuttlebutt, news of your family’s downfall is hot shit. He can barely believe it’s really happening, and right in his front yard; Hawkins High’s stoniest, coldest fox and her equally foxy mom were packing their fur coats and shit into a double wide. Eddie couldn’t lie– he liked seeing people like you get knocked down a peg. So he’d come to gloat. A little. 

But you’re all snappy and full of venom– not like in school, where he’s almost positive you’ve never made eye contact with him.

He doesn’t mind that change in attitude either.

“C’mon. That luggage looks a little heavy for you, princess,” he says. “I don’t entirely trust you getting it inside the trailer without breaking a nail.” 

“I don’t need your help,” you say, shoving that tattered journal into your book bag. Eddie wonders what kind of bullshit you’re always writing in there– every time you’re not in the middle of some idiot milleu with your popular cohorts, you’re practicing your longhand. 

“You could use it, though,” he counters, and the condescension in his tone makes your cheeks flare up. You spring from your seat on the suitcase, making Munson take a shocked half-step back. His eyes blaze, rounding out as he takes you in at your full height. 

Still taller than you. He'll be okay. He thinks.

“I’m a goddamn cheerleader, you Neanderthal looking dipshit,” you spit, “I’ve got a core of steel.” 

You turn and dip, reaching for the thick leather handles of the case and discover–oof–that’s a little bit way heavier than you were expecting it to be. But spurned by sheer stubbornness and a need to get away from him as quickly as humanly possible, you brace yourself against the screaming muscles in your arms and wobble the baggage all the way to the trailer door. Your mom stands in your path, dress slipping off her shoulders, blearily looking toward the Munson kid as he retreats to his own trailer with a languid backwards tread. He can’t look away from this scene. 

“Mom. Mom, can I fucking–” you struggle through gritted teeth, “The bag, Mom. Get out of the way.” 

She moves out of your way at an aching half-speed as Munson’s eyes burn hot on your struggling frame–he’s loving this, he’s loving seeing you in the shit just like everyone’s loving seeing you in the shit–and you deposit your suitcase in your brand new matchbox-sized bedroom with a heaving gasp. Shit.

You cross the room in about three steps, heading to the window to close the blinds– shshk. Sshsk.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

The blinds begin to close, but stop dead not even halfway across the window. They’re stuck, leaving you without a particle of privacy. Which sucks, of course, because you were really banking on some scheduled crying time tonight. 

You had held it in for as long as you possibly could, all that hurt and frustration at the disaster your father had landed you in, promising yourself that you’d let it all out once you and your mom had a safe place. A place that wasn’t your estranged aunt’s basement couch, or a motel you could barely afford. A place that you could at least pretend was home. In your minds eye, you had envisioned something modest-if-shitty– the sunnier end of Cherry Lane, maybe. You hadn’t counted on a place that required a gas hookup. 

You tug on the beaded chain with a desperate force and no give– exasperated, you let your head slump against the filthy windowpane. The bedroom window stares directly into the window of the trailer opposite, where a warm yellow light flickers on and illuminates another bedroom. 

Peeling posters and a guitar on the wall. Of course. Of course you’ve got a bird’s eye view into Eddie Munson’s fetid cave. He spots you in the window and pouts a big ol’ pitiful pout– poor little rich girl. Missing your velvet blackout curtains? 

You can’t flip him the bird quick enough before he closes his fully functional blinds. 

–

You sleep like shit. Exhaustion couldn't even beat you into a slumber. You couldn’t be bothered to begin the unpacking process and instead fished out whatever closest resembled pyjamas from your luggage (an oversized t-shirt from a father-daughter trip to Columbia University), curling up on your bare mattress with your coat thrown over you, but the thing that was really keeping you awake? You couldn’t find your pen. 

Your prized possession pen, your fountain pen in the ruby-red casing. Your journaling pen. You refuse to write in your diary with an inferior instrument, alright, that’s just not how it’s done, but it’s nowhere to be found. It’s not rolling around the bottom of your book bag, though you’ve emptied the thing three times. It’s not anywhere.

You ask your mom if she’s spotted it anywhere, but she’s still in a Valium haze when you’re buzzing around, trying to get ready for school. 

That’s a whole other ordeal. Your acceptable school clothes are, again, buried in some suitcase that was hastily packed as agents waited for you to vacate the property. And by appropriate, you mean your carefully chosen pastel color palette– the very best of the very trendiest, the ra-ra skirts and the bomber jackets that sit so perfectly on your poised shoulders. The kind of clothes that make someone like Tina go, God, I wish we could trade dads. Just for the credit card. 

Now, all you’ve got to hand are the clothes that feel like your dirty little secret– thrift store suede and dark, rich knits, dresses of velvet and leather boots. The kind of things you collect just to collect, to dress up in when you know no one’s going to be looking at you and think someday. Someday you’ll be someplace where you don’t have to wear the exact right JCPenney piece of shit to fit in with a crowd. Because these are the kinds of clothes that feel right, but make people, important people, people like Carol go–

“Jesus, Lacy, dressed for a funeral much?” 

You hadn’t though the ensemble was too dark, but hey, in the harsh light of day. You bashfully shrug your jacket closer around you, faux fur collar tickling your ears. “I’m in mourning.” 

“Shit, I hate driving out here,” Tommy Hagan squawks from the driver’s seat, already agitated first thing in the morning, “I always feel like I’m gonna get carjacked.” 

Forget your shitty car; the only thing they’d be stripping for parts out here is you, Tommy, you want to quip, but you just fasten your seatbelt. Carol had managed to guilt him into giving you a ride this morning, an effort in pity and also because she wanted the gossip from the trailer park before anybody else. 

“Yeah, how was it, Lace? Did you like, deadbolt the doors and shit? Because you really gotta do that out here.”

“You should get a bat to leave by the door. Y’know, for intruders,” Tina blankly adds, staring into her compact mirror. 

“You should get a gun,” Hagan says, peeling out of the park with a quickness, “if that’s who you’re livin’ next to.”

“What? Who?”

“That Munson freak,” you sigh, resting your head against the windowpane again, “He like, basically threatened to rob me when I was trying to move in yesterday.”

A chorus of disgust rises up in the car that makes you feel good– warm, surrounded, accepted. Even though it blatantly wasn’t true, you’d do just about anything to win your friends’ approval these days. You noticed a certain waver in their stares when you revealed where you’d be moving to, after your dad was sentenced and everything.

A lot of the time, you didn’t feel like they wanted to be there for you, more that they wanted to be the first to hear the dirt on Hawkins’ most scandalous family. 

Usually you’re the one on the receiving end of their deep, dark secrets. 

It’s like they feel like they finally have something on you. 

Or, no! That’s crazy, you’re just being paranoid. These are your friends. As much as high schoolers can be friends. 

“I’ve got just the thing to take your mind off it, Lacy,” Tina says, pinching your arm, “Kegger at Harrington’s on Friday. He even asked about you–”

“--he said he could give you a discount at Family Video if you need it–” Hagan sniggers, earning a smack in the ear from Tina. 

“--shut up! So, you’re not a total social pariah yet, okay?”

You blink. You know Tina means well, but sometimes she is so fucking tactless. “Um. Didn’t think I was one, Tins, but thanks for the reassurance. I guess.”

–

He’s not a thief. He swears to God, or whatever the cooler alternative of God is, he’s not. 

But he’d be lying if he didn’t consider keeping the stupid red pen just to see if you’d miss it. It’s engraved, he noticed, while rolling it between his fingers as he lay in bed last night. And Eddie Munson is a man not unfamiliar with the value of a decent writing utensil. Those D&D campaigns don’t write themselves. You want something that’s going to be in it for the scribbling long haul and this thing’s not bad. Etched in teeny tiny letters on the pen cap are your initials– the letters of a name no one calls you anymore. 

Which is the part that makes it stupid, obviously. What is it with rich people and putting their monogram all over everything?

God, she’s obsessed with this fuckin’ thing, Eddie thinks. Wonder how much it’s worth. A lot, to you, obviously. You’re always etching with it in English, using it to push a lock of hair behind your ear in the library. Tapping it against your lips when you’re standing at your open locker, the tip settling right into your Cupid’s bow, the red casing bouncing off the plush pink of— woah. Pause. 

Eddie had to take a beat. 

He’d been tapping the pen against his lips too. Thinking about you. Thinking about your lips. That nasty little pout you gave him outside your trailer, the snarl it curled into when he goaded you on. 

Fuck, was that kinda… were you kinda…

It’s enough for him to jam the pen into his mouth and palm himself over his boxers, just to make sure. And— yep. He’d hummed, a kind of well whaddaya know! and slipped his hand under the worn elastic waistband. He even gave himself a couple of tugs, just to make sure. 

And the thing that made him really sure was the Technicolor vision he had of confronting you in the library’s restricted section.

Yanking that pen away from your mouth and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Clamping his mouth onto yours and sinking his tongue so deep inside he could taste the cherry Tab lingering on your uvula.

Guiding your hand, your writing hand, past the undone clink of his belt and waistband of his jeans so you could stroke him to the head. 

Ink stains mixing with precum. 

Moaning into your mouth. 

Giving you something to write to dear diary about. 

So now, back in the harsh light of day, this stupid rich bitch pen is burning a hole in his pocket. 

Almost like payback, as if you’d embarrassed him by making him hard in the privacy of his own trailer, he approaches you in the most audacious setting imaginable— the cafeteria. 

You sit there, among your usual gaggle of Gap zombies, but you look— different. You’re dressed different. Cool jacket, Eddie involuntarily thinks before mentally slapping himself. Shut up! We’re here to humiliate her, remember?

“Lacy,” he says, but he draws it out all over his tongue so it sounds like laayyyy-ceeee, and you are visibly disgusted by this. He looms over the table, barely containing the twisted grin on his face. He's playing the part of fake bashful here, you see. “You, uh, dropped this outside my place last night.” Your shoulders go tense. Eyes of your space cadet friends snapping back and forth, from Eddie to you to Eddie to you. 

Because it’s true. Technically, you did drop it and technically, it was outside his place but the implication is what's killing you. 

Eddie can barely outstretch his hand before you snap the pen from him, icy fingers a shock to his skin. This sick thrill gathers like a twister in his stomach as you freeze in place, staring him down with a laser pointed glare. Fuck. Off. And. Die, it says. 

But he doesn’t! “Oh gosh, no need to thank me, Lace! Really, it was no trouble at all— what are neighbors for!”

Mocking giggles start bursting from the popular kid peanut gallery. But the flavor is… off.

Eddie scans the little in-crowd that are scoffing at your expense— which, okay, is totally what he came over here to do but… these are meant to be your buddies, right? Shouldn’t Hagan be threatening to beat Eddie’s ass right about now?

But instead they’re just… letting you stew. No one’s telling Eddie to back off, no one’s calling him their second favorite F slur (freak, naturally). 

Nicole Summers is laughing into her sleeve. That’s rich. Underclassman Carver is almost looking at him like, Yeah man, you got her good!

Which does not feel good. Feels kind of shitty, actually. 

Too easy of a win.

You didn’t even get a chance to fight back. You couldn’t. 

Fuck. 

Eddie turns heel and heads back to his table, a gaggle of befuddled Hellfire heads eager to know what the hell was that, man?! But even he can’t quite put his finger on it.

He feels… bad for you. 

—

“Anybody got bleach?” 

It’s the first thing you manage to choke out after a chorus of ooh, Lacy, what a good neighbor! and Hope that’s all you dropped outside his trailer, girl! All through lunch period, you’re the fucking laughing stock squared thanks to that long haired douchebag. 

“Bleach ain’t gonna cut it,” Carol smirks as you both exit the girls room and head toward your respective lockers, “That thing is totally contaminated with freak cooties. Better toss it— unless you don’t mind.”

See, that’s the thing. You do mind, because it’s your stupid goddamn special idiot sentimental pen and now he’s gone and— and— freaked it up somehow. Exploiting the fact you’ve had to make a major lifestyle downgrade because it makes him feel better. It makes you feel even more exposed than you’ve been getting used to feeling lately. 

Before you can get into it any more, Carol is clotheslined by Tommy to go, I don’t know, finger each other behind the basketball bleachers or whatever it is they do instead of going to study hall. You’ve lost track. 

You push past the gathering rush in the hallway to access your locker. Just as you slam the door closed, it appears again, like an insistent apparition. 

“What, Munson, are you here to tell me you put a bomb in my book bag? Because, if so, great. At least that’ll kill me.” 

Munson stands there, leaning against some poor bastard freshman’s locker, brow all tight. 

“Was I kind of a dick earlier?” 

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I was. Shit, I knew it!”

“Why the fuck are you talking to me.”

“I didn’t mean it to come off like that— well, okay, I kinda did, but that was pretty cold. I mean, your dirty laundry’s already all over Hawkins, I probably shouldn’t have been like, waving your panties around—“

“Munson.” You gesture toward him, as if you’re going to clutch him by the forearms to shut him up, but halt at the last second. Fuck, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand the way he’s standing there with this earnest look in his eyes, on some hair metal Ferris Beuller protagonist of reality bullshit.

Your eyes flare white hot, jaw flexing.

“Listen to me. We may live in a regrettably closer orbit now, but that does not require us to acknowledge each other as human beings. In fact, if you try and pull some shit like that again— in fact, if you even so much as deign to look in my direction again, I will slash the tires on that fucking decommissioned World War II ambulance you call a van. You do not exist to me, and I better not exist to you. I am not your neighbor, I am a figment of your fucking rotted pothead imagination at best. Leave me the fuck alone or I will eat you. Capiche?”

You know for a fact that these are the highest volume of words you’ve ever spoken (or will ever speak) directly to Munson, and he knows it too. You don’t let loose like this— you don’t even talk to anyone outside your friend group unless extracurriculars or group projects call for it. Not because you’re shy, but because you’re discerning. 

Munson has managed to disarm you of all that with one stupid little pen. 

He’s staring at you with a deviously shiny-eyed gaze, one that makes you feel like you need to button the modesty button of a blouse you’re not even wearing. 

“M’kay, well, let me know if you need a ride after school!” he chirps and shrugs and takes off down the hallway to some class he’s certainly failing. 

And you’ve just earned the first big fat F of your life, by letting Eddie Munson get under your skin.

author's notes: hi! if you've read this far, i owe you my eternal thanks. been a hot sec since i wrote fic so i appreciate it. - thee perennial reference to lacy's nickname— best imagined sung to yourself in your bedroom mirror and having a classic 18 year old existential crisis, lol! - the journal and fountain pen motif is a not entirely subtle reference to veronica sawyer from heathers. please expect this trend to continue - as far as timelines go re: steve's working life and tommy and carol's high school careers, bear with me. all will be discussed or at least briefly mentioned but will there be inconsistencies? of course there will, babe. i'm here to fuck around, i'm not here for continuity - horndog eddie munson you WILL live forever! - please reblog, like & comment to show support! i've got some killer chapters planned for this fic and i live to entertain u

[cosmicstarlatte]

You ARE The Father! (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret during your relationship. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your demon baby daddy.

»Characters: Demon bros // -> [Part 2: Dateables] Now available!

»Tags: Female reader/MC, Unplanned pregnancy, Humor/fluff, Bulleted Style Fic

»Note: Sorry it's kind of long. Also I imagine the babies all heavily resemble their dads. 🥺♡ I might make a part two with Diavolo and Barbatos but they will be short stories. Well, maybe. Lol

Lucifer:

"That's not funny."

Didn't believe you because how could you keep that sort of secret for months from him

You sent him a photo of you holding a very unamused baby boy with black hair and red eyes

The Avatar of Pride has fainted. I repeat, he has fainted

Didn't pack or say anything to his brothers once he woke up, he just bolted out the house to find a magic seal to travel to the human realm

Quickly let Diavolo know why he canceled their meeting whilst on the way to you

He arrived disheveled, man was sweating lol

Anyway he immediately reached for his child and cradled him

His baby's horns and wings popped out!

Barely wanted to talk to you at first, you wounded his pride...Did you think him unfit? Did you think he wouldn't accept?

He would've been there for you no matter what, it pained him that you went through everything alone

Promised to be there from now on

He hugged you and the baby "...I love you two. ♡ Come live with me. You two won't ever be in need."

Dia and Barb visited shortly to see Luci's baby!

His baby slapped everyone in the face at some point

Mammon:

"Ha! That's a good one! I always loved ya sense of humor!"

Really thought it was a joke

You decided to surprise him in person instead

You got permission from Dia to visit

You had only told Lucifer ahead of time about the surprise visit but not why

When you knocked on the door holding the white-haired baby girl Lucifer had to do a double take

"Is this..."

He smiled and excitedly held her for a minute before returning her

"Excuse me" Lucifer said as he closed the door

"MAMMOOOOOOOOON!!!"

yeah the baby started crying

You could hear the loud commotion inside

The door swung open and Mammon stared in shock along with the rest of the family behind him

"YA WERENT JOKING!? GUYS...GUYS!! I'M A DAD!!"

He cuddled his baby girl and gave her so many kisses

You guessed it, the baby sprouted horns and wings after being held by him

Was upset at himself for thinking you were joking

He demanded you move in right away

"Nothin' will break this family. I got ya both! Daddy will take care of y'all! "♡

His baby girl managed to grab his wallet and wouldn't let go

Levi:

"As if..."

Was skeptical...him? A dad? He always thought Mammon or Asmo would be first

He didn't know anything about being a dad but he was getting more excited the more he thought about it

You wouldn't lie to him about that right? RIGHT?

But why didn't you tell him sooner!? He could've been there for support like you always supported him!!

He texted you saying he would be visiting soon

He made a quick phone call to Dia for help getting to the human world

"Yeah let's not tell Lucifer yet heheheh"

He hurriedly grabbed a few figures and collectibles to go pawn off...kids are expensive!

After selling some things he bought some baby stuff and a gift for you...the mother of his child!!

When he finally made it to the human world he cried when he held his own purple-haired baby boy

The baby cried too lmao

The baby shifted into demon form & Levi wailed even more at his beautiful copy+paste baby

Both stopped crying when you played some anime on the tv

"I-I have a ring for you...w-will you marry me? I'll be the best husband and dad I can be!" ♡

He was planning on asking anyway; this just sped things up

He wasn't sure but he thinks his kid was giving him the stink eye when he was taking too much time with you...jealousy!?

Satan:

"You're telling me this now?"

Yeah he was angry

He had a hard time believing it but he knew you wouldn't lie about something like that

After the call, he grew excited and couldn't wait to visit

Told Lucifer what was going on ASAP and he let him go to you

He tried to read as much as he could from parenting books while on the way to you

He brought some gifts and offered to let you nap while he bonded with his daughter

Yeah she shifted into demon form after being held by him

He cooed at her, brushing her blonde hair lightly, remembering his own birth

"Daddy might've been an accident, but you're definitely not. Just a beautiful surprise. ♡"

He would do anything you asked of him, he just wanted to take care of his own little family

"Hey listen to me...I won't ever let you two down. I swear it.♡"

His daughter angrily yanked the new kitty plushie from his hands and smacked him before giggling

Asmo:

"Ahaha...riiight. That's not the first time someone's tried that on me! And triplets!? "

He loved you but that was a weird joke to pull so many months later

Seriously, triplets? You had to be joking!

You were a little hurt but you kind of understood his reaction

Either way you wanted Asmo to meet them and decided to do a surprise visit

You contacted Dia for help and Barb escorted you safely to the Devildom (it was hard moving around with 3 babies!)

You nervously waited with your babies at Dia's castle while they summoned Asmo first before the other brothers

"Lord Diavolo, I'm he-" you heard Asmo gasp

He froze and took in what was in front of him

"You weren't joking!?"

He sobbed and cried out apologies to you, as he tried to figure out how he could pick them all up (sorry only two at a time!)

You handed him the two girls and watched as they shifted into demon form in his arms

Mini Asmos!

He excitedly talked about all the different outfits you could all wear and match as a family

You took one of the baby girls and handed him the boy and watched as he too shifted

"You're my family! My big beautiful family! Papa will make you all proud! I'll work SO hard!♡"

The other brothers happily joined the gathering a few minutes later

Every time someone picked up one of the babies, they were happy and friendly!

Beel:

"Huh? What? What do you mean? ... I'M COMING."

Mixed emotions: Anger for not telling him. Excited that you had his child. Sad that he wasn't there to support you on the journey. Happy overall for his new family.

He wasted no time after you told him, he called on Lucifer to let him go to the human world. His brothers caught wind and wanted to go too.

Teared up when he saw you standing and holding his baby boy, he gave a big soft family hug

Was surprised and excited when his baby shifted into demon form when he held him

It was a mini him!

He was absolutely in love with his new family

"I will give you both everything. No matter what. I will take care of you two, always.♡"

Wouldn't stop doting on you two

Growled when Belphie wanted a turn to hold his baby...he might've been a little too protective

But everyone did get a turn eventually

His baby bit/nibbled everyone at some point

Belphie:

"Twins!? Mine!? When!? You should've said something!"

Was upset you kept it from him. Scared because what if he fails you and them? But was happy to have his own little family

As soon as he hung up, he quickly called Lucifer for help and had Beel accompany to the human world

Freaked out because what do babies need? What did you need? He hurriedly bought ready made baby gift baskets hoping it would help somewhat

Each step towards your place was nerve wracking and exhilarating

Having Beel there soothed him a little so he was thankful

Belphie thought you looked so beautiful standing there holding his twins in little cow print onesies

He nervously held both and teared up when they shifted and they looked so much like him

The baby boy started crying and he freaked out

"Yeah he cries a lot. The girl however is very quiet and sleeps easily."

Belphie hummed a lullaby and soothed his son who rested happily on him.

"This is better than any dream.I will do my best to make you and them proud.That's a promise.♡"

Beel patted his back letting him know he had him and the others

His babies seemed to like cuddling a lot. They really liked holding fingers tightly.

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure︱Waffle House︱Coconut

*Super long* Authors Note/Ramblings: Moved those notes to my AO3 journal lol

[fiona-fififi]

could you explain to me why you think bucktommy forever would be narratively satisfying but there's no possibility of them introducing a love interest for eddie that would be satisfying? i don't understand

I DON'T think bucktommy would be narratively satisfying.

I DO think there is more potential in the current narrative structure for them to make bucktommy endgame work in a reasonably narratively satisfying way (IF Eddie's story wasn't a factor, which it is).

I also don't necessarily think it would be impossible for them to bring in someone for Eddie if I'm imagining they have all the time in the world to make that work. But the reality of the current narrative is that I don't think they have all the time in the world. And as talented as these writers are, I don't see any way they could introduce someone entirely new, with no connection to the current narrative, and make me buy that person as Eddie's endgame. There just isn't time. A couple of years ago, I would have said that I thought Eddie could have an interesting and satisfying ending to his story if he learned that he didn't need romantic fulfillment to be happy. Since then, however, they've really doubled down on Eddie's loneliness and desire for a romantic partner AND they went for the queer Buck storyline. When you add to that all of Eddie's history with Buck and the way he's welcomed Buck into his life and embraced him as a partner both in his own life and in Christopher's, I don't see any way for them to disentangle that story and introduce someone else (unless it was Tommy, maybe, but nobody's going to want to hear that).

It would just take SO much work and time that I'm not sure they have because it would take several seasons, I think, for it to really reach any level of satisfying.

The difference with bucktommy is simply that it would take very slightly less work (though still a TON of work) for a few reasons.

First, Buck is just Buck. With Eddie, there's also the Christopher of it all to contend with, which adds a complicating layer that extends the work that needs to be done in Eddie's story in a way that doesn't exist for Buck's story (as important as Christopher is for Buck, it's very different from what would need to happen for Eddie who is literally Christopher's parent). So Buck's story has fewer complications to contend with, especially since they've already gotten it off the ground with Buck's queer awakening and introducing his relationship with Tommy already at this point in canon. So there would literally just be less time involved.

Beyond that, Tommy is already an established character in universe. They don't need to do quite as much work to help us get to know him, because we already do, even if only peripherally. But he is established as significant to the stories of other characters beyond Buck. He had a role to play in Chimney's, Hen's, and Bobby's (and hell, even Eddie's!) stories long before he ever became significant to Buck's. So, developing his place among the team and their extended family is not nearly as complicated as it would be with someone entirely new—and even someone from Eddie's past wouldn't have the history with the team, so still, more complications there.

So, yes, I think bucktommy has more potential in the current narrative structure (if—and ONLY if—completely divorced from Eddie's storyline, which it can never be).

But not only do I not actually think either could be a satisfying ending for either Buck or Eddie in the current narrative, there actually isn't anything to suggest that the show is doing the work it needs to to make that potential a reality, either. Because they are not separating out Eddie and Buck (frankly, they're entwining them further). And they aren't even doing any work to flesh out Tommy’s character. I know fandom has grown really attached to him, but the reality is that the character is currently just being used as a pawn to move Buck's story forward. Tommy has a past with the 118 that creates a lot of potential, but that potential is not being used. The character is, frankly, pretty flat at the current moment. They haven't even tried to bring him back into the 118 fold—the only people he's really interacted with since his reintroduction are Eddie and Buck, when there has been plenty of opportunity to fold him back into the team in ways that would at least have him vaguely interacting with the others (like, I don't know, Chimney actually inviting him to the wedding or Hen even acknowledging him at the bachelor party). Their relationship is cute and sweet, but there's nothing that indicates it's any deeper than any of the other relationships Buck has had thus far, and they are actively juxtaposing the bucktommy relationship with the buddie relationship in a way that makes very clear just how surface level that relationship really is when compared to the depth of Buck and Eddie's relationship with one another.

So, no, I don't think bucktommy are going to be endgame, nor do I have any interest in them being endgame. But I recognize that there is currently—literally, in the canon narrative—more potential for bucktommy to work if the show really wanted to make it happen and put in the work, mostly because of Tommy’s history with the rest of the 118.

On Eddie's end, there is no current canon potential. There's no current love interest they could turn around (especially because Edy is a shit human being and people would riot if they actually made Marisol Eddie's endgame). There's no past love interest they could bring back that wouldn't somehow have to be worked into the rest of the team. There's the additional complication of the Christopher of it all and how much that changes where Eddie's story can go and how quickly it can be developed.

It's quite literally just the difference in time. If Buck's relationship with Eddie wasn't a factor, I think they could do it in two seasons for bucktommy. For Eddie and this currently non-existent love interest, I think it'd take a good three or more, and even then, I think it would have to be someone they introduce as a part of the team (Lucy? Ravi? Tommy?) because anyone separate wouldn't have any room to develop sufficiently.

But the reality is that, frankly, the ONLY narratively satisfying ending for Eddie and Buck is one another. Any other option would require dismantling so much beautiful storytelling that I cannot see how it would ever be worth it.

[euosin]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 - patrick zweig.

patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: after a break through you and your bestfriends friendship, patrick comes to visit stanford in hopes that you can fill in tashi’s shoes.

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, slight degrading, reader being jealous of tashi, cursing, the years and locations might be wrong, tennis terms and games also might be incorrect (I'm just a girl) pretend like tashi never tore her acl in this, several time skips, cheating sort of???

a/n: free patrick zweig 2024

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔.

When standing next to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, you seem to be almost invisible around guys. You only realized this when she suddenly had two guys pawning for her attention at her party. You recall the way they walked up to her, grinning ear to ear with ironed shirts and strong colognes that could easily be clocked from a mile away. Before they could get their names out, Tashi quickly spoke for them. “I know who you are. You're fire and ice, right?” Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson were their names. You watched their junior doubles match at the US Open earlier this year. To your surprise, Patrick led their win with a clean tweener. Impressive. “Which ones which?” Tashi asks between sips of her drink.

You sulk into the chair next to her, gripping the chilled glass in your hands as you discreetly roll your eyes when you realize that they aren't paying any attention to you. “What do you think?” Patrick asks with a smirk. Tashi pauses, giving him a slight glare before turning over to Art. “You were fucking incredible.” The blonde boy says. “It wasn't even like tennis, it was an entirely different game.” You take notice that Art had won over her curiosity better than Patrick did. Patrick mentioned something about him going pro, which caught your attention for a split second before Art quickly moved on to another topic. You scoffed quietly to yourself, locking eyes with Patrick before sliding past his shoulder to occupy yourself with something else.

Later that night you tried to talk to catch up to her but only found that she had suddenly disappeared from the party. You texted her several times, asking for her whereabouts. She replied the next morning, apologizing for her leaving you to fend for yourself last night. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” her message reads. That afternoon, Tashi met with you for lunch, going on about how Art and Patrick were practically on their hands and knees for her, evening going as far as to invite her to their hotel room. Of course, you listened to her with wide eyes and a small gasp every time she described her story. Playing for her number? Really? And a close call in a threesome? You tried to act unbothered but couldn't help but feel aggravated.

As the season went on, Tashi’s sudden absence from your life became apparent. You were only updated on her life now and then through mutual friends. But, you got closer to Patrick coming up to the time of his final. He practiced frequently at the same court you went to. At first, the two of you would share knowing glances, then it became small talk in between switches, then casual hangouts in the city. You even felt a small crush developing but held yourself back due to Tashi, but it wouldn't hurt to admire him now and then.

Secretly, you envied Tashi Duncan, from her unbelievable tennis skills to her effortlessly gorgeous appearance. She had an aura that attracted everyone to her. Maybe that's why your friendship was cut short before your first week at Stanford, your jealousy clouded your vision. Either way, she would've been “too” busy to stay friends with you. Although you were still friends with her at the time of Patrick’s and Art’s final, the final that would determine who Tashi would go out with. Patrick won, of course, bowing down to Tashi on the court before looking over at the defeated Art Donaldson with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

You went back to your house later that night, groaning in your hands at the image of Patrick flashing an arrogant smile up to the stands, the confident stride that remained consistent in his walk as he stepped off the court. Art was attractive as well, but he was already all over Tashi, and his daring counterpart just had something else to him that drove you insane. Tashi had disappeared from your life and Patrick was next in line.

You were then informed a few weeks later by another mutual friend that he and Tashi were now dating, “happily”, they added.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕.

You noticed Tashi around campus, occasionally close to Art. You were surprised to find out that she and Patrick were still together. Donaldson was snug around her, always. Did Patrick know about his best friend probing his way into their relationship? Back in your dorm, you roamed the web for a while before pausing at a sports article with a familiar name in the headline.

“PATRICK ZWEIG — Dominating the Courts in 2007”

His face is under the bold text, beaming proudly at the camera with his tennis racket swung over his shoulders. He looked good. He’s always looked good, but he looked older with his lightly gelled curls. He didn't look like a boy anymore, he looked like a man. You took your time reading through the article in awe with wide eyes. You pondered for a moment on how Tashi and Patrick dealt with long distance. He was away for so long at so many games, but—at least he was winning.

For the next hour or so you found yourself scrolling through press photos of Patrick at different games or just casual photos that were taken of him off the court. Unfortunately, your roommate had walked in with a “Ooh, who’s that?” causing you to close your laptop for the night.

𝟓 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

Maybe college was really getting to you because your skills on the court weren’t as polished as they used to be. Or maybe you were too distracted thinking about Tashi’s last match the week before. You were shocked at how quick she had gotten, slamming her poor opponent down with ease. She was getting better and better, while you were getting worse and worse. You didn't care for tennis as much as you used to in high school anymore. You despised it. You only kept up with it because your parents had spent too much money on the sport for you to suddenly drop everything, it was also because of Tashi, hoping one day you could beat her in a match. An unrealistic view, but it egged you on. You were practicing with your roommate, missing her ball when a familiar face stepped into your peripheral vision. He paused in unison with you, also acknowledging you. Patrick looked like he was in a rush to leave, walking rather quickly before doing a double take through the holes in the fence.

“Are you serious?” your roommate calls out from across the court. You ignore her, placing your racket down on the bench before running over to Patrick.

He's smirking subtly at your choice in clothing. “Pat, oh my God, hi,” you say through deep exhales. He was wearing blue jeans and a fitted white t-shirt that showed each curve of his muscles perfectly. You swear you would've moaned in his face at his appearance if it weren't for you holding back your noises. “Hey, it's been—forever, shit. You look fucking great.” he says as he takes in your different look. It’s only been a year or so since you've last seen each other, but you did change drastically. “Do I? I could say the same thing about you.” You reply innocently. Patrick bites on his bottom lip before eyeing you up and down. “You seem a little stiff out there.” He says as he points over to the court.

You groan in embarrassment, realizing he definitely saw your fucked up backhand and sloppy crossover steps. “I might have to learn a few tips from you.” you lean closer to the gate, taking in the scent of his cologne. He chuckles, “Uh huh, you need me to coach you or something?” he asks with a nod of his head. You stay quiet, watching as his eyes wander down to your short tennis skirt, then back up to your slightly scandalous tank top. “I might have to take you up on that offer,” you reply with a giggle. “What are you doing at Stanford?” Patrick tenses, running a hand past his dark curls. “I was visiting Tashi,” he says in a monotone voice, almost disappointed even.

You raise a suspicious brow, scanning his face for some sort of clue. He seems to catch on, shaking his head slightly. “We got into an argument, it's nothing.” you light up at his reply, suppressing the grin pulling on your lips. “Aw,” you say. “Well, you can always talk to me, Patrick.” the way you say his name is almost a whisper, soft and sultry. He visibly notices what you're doing, smirking at your bold actions. “I will,” he says before turning and walking off.

Eventually, the sky darkened as the day went on and you hadn't spotted Patrick since your last interaction a few hours ago. You were stuck on the court for the whole day, forcing yourself to practice, enduring the heat and your aching arms. You had gotten a few bruises on your legs from missing the balls. Your roommate got tired from your sore game so she left early, saying she’ll meet you back at the dorms in a bit. You frown as you play back every moment you fucked up a stroke in your head. As you're walking back over to the bench to pack up your stuff, the gate swings open. You glance up, eyes widening slightly at Patrick standing across the court.

He smiles, walking over before unzipping his tennis bag, and grabbing a racket and a ball. You laugh, “What?” you ask. “I thought you wanted me to coach you,” he shouts. You tap your foot against the asphalt, arms crossed under your chest as you look around the empty court. Patrick was a pro tennis player, you were like an amateur compared to him. “In jeans?” you shout back, pointing at his pants. He waves you off, “I’m alright.” his voice booms with arrogance and confidence, but—you couldn't blame him. With a body like that and a face like that, you too would be an arrogant dick.

“Fine, one game.” You were prepared to be humiliated. Patrick shrugs, still smirking as he gets into position to serve the ball. You stretch your legs, staying on your toes as he hits it with a loud grunt. You run after it, hitting it back with a rough forehand. Patrick returns it with a transition step then a backhand lob. The game seems to go on for hours and hours, but unfortunately, you lose against Patrick’s clean slice. “Fuck!” you shout as you pat off the sweat on your forehead. Patrick claps from across the court. “You don't need any practice at all,” he says. “maybe a little work on that topspin though.”

“Oh, shut up.” you groan as you chuck the tennis ball at him. He catches it with a single hand before it can hit him, bouncing it one last time before putting it inside his bag. You're quick to pack your stuff, running up next to him. “Where are you gonna stay tonight?” you ask as you walk together. “Mm, I've got a hotel.” you cock your head to the side. “You got a game here?”

Patrick nods, “You should come, watch me absolutely demolish Lester Svensson.” you shrug, “Lester Svensson? Fuck, I’ll send my prayers in the crowd.” He looks over at you, lips pressed together. “I don't need it,” he replies sternly. You roll your eyes, almost forgetting how stubborn he was. You stop abruptly in your tracks when you realize you've passed your dorm. Stepping back, you point at the door. “Sorry, this is me.” Patrick pauses, looking at you then past your shoulder at your room. “Is your roommate here?” he questions. You jiggle the handle. Locked. “Nope,” you reply as you fish out your keys from your bag.

“Can I come in?”

Your door opens with a click. You stiffen, looking around before nodding. You nudge open the door, watching closely as Patrick sets his bag down on the desk chair before sitting down on the edge of your bed. You shiver slightly, switching on your string lights as you join him. He looks around, examining every element of the side of your room. “Huh,” he mutters as he picks off a picture of you and Tashi smiling together on your bulletin board, arms linked—seemingly to be at a local tennis match from your sophomore year in high school. You clear your throat, quickly grabbing it out of his hands and tossing it to the side. “Forgot to take that down.”

Patrick squints. “I guess you're not cool with her either,” he says jokingly. You nod, leaning back on your palms. The two of you bask in each other's silence and quiet breathing before Patrick scoots closer to you, his hand slithering around you and over your hand. He holds it, softly nudging his nose into your shoulder. You instinctively roll your head back, giving him easy access to your neck. He presses open mouth kisses against your damp skin, licking at your sweat. You whimper, raising a hand around up to his wet hair. You tug on his curls, his blue eyes low and dark with lust. You kiss him, letting his tongue explore your mouth as his hand trails up your torso to your tits.

“Teasing me in your tight little tennis clothes all day, huh?” he groans, you giggle, quickly taking off your tank top. “Not on purpose,” you say through labored breathing. Patrick smirks against your lips, bucking his hips against your clothed pussy as you straddle his lap. You grip the hem of his shirt, assisting him with taking it off. Your eyes trail down from his toned abs to his happy trail. Brows furrowing together as he turns over, flipping you onto your back against the mattress. He’s on top of you, hungrily kissing every inch of your skin. Patrick lifts your sports bra over your head, revealing your breasts to him. He moans at the sight, trailing kisses down the valley between your tits as your hands scramble to unbutton his jeans. He pulls them off, leaving him with a painfully obvious tent in his boxers. Patrick’s large hands settle on your waist as you shimmy off your skirt, kicking it away on the floor.

“Fuck, I need this so bad, baby.” he whines, fingers dancing along the waistband of your panties. He pulls your underwear off, tossing your legs above his broad shoulders as he presses a wet kiss to you to your clit. Patrick looks up at you with glossy eyes before he licks at your slit, still holding eye contact. Your stomach tenses at the sensation, fingers gripping around the soft duvet on your bed.

He pulls away from your cunt, a string of his saliva connecting him to you. His fingers go to spread your folds, you moan when you feel his thumb graze over your clit. Patrick seemed to know everything about your body. He laps his tongue over your wet slit several times, pulling back with low eyes before sliding two fingers inside of your tight walls. You spasm around his fingers, arching your back as he starts eating you out while massaging your insides. There's a small smirk dancing on his lips as he sucks on your clit, swirling his large tongue around the sensitive bud. You moan and whimper loudly, quickly placing a hand over your mouth to soften your noises. You watch with glossy eyes as he continues eating you out like a starved man.

It was all too much, he was so good. Too good. His other hand grazes past your stomach, fingers pinching your hard nipples. “Pat, oh fuck—mhm!” he hums against you, slurping at your juices. His thumb continues to rub deep circles on your clit, drawing more moans from your lips. He’s sloppy, burying his face deep between your legs, drooling all over your little pussy, and groping at your thighs. He clings onto your figure underneath him, suffocating himself with your legs and your pretty cunt. Before you could reach your climax, Patrick pulls away, scoffing at the way you whined from the absence of his tongue.

“What are y—”

“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay?”

Patrick pulls boxers off, his heavy dick slapping your leg. You gasped at his size, he was above average with an insane girth, a bulging pink tip leaking with precum staring at you. You feel ashamed under his lust driven gaze. You feel desperate and needy. Patrick will hang this moment over your head forever, you could tell. The way he was practically eye fucking you with that cruel smirk on his face. “I need you, please.” you cry out as you hold your tits in your hands. “Yeah? How bad do you need me?” He taunts in your ear, his wet tip rubbing against your folds. Your pussy throbs and tightens around nothing, yearning for his dick. “Tell me. Use your fucking words.” he spits out as he continues edging you with his tip.

Your breath hitches every time you feel him at your entrance, tears pricking down your soft cheeks. “If you need me so bad, use your words like the little slut you are.” Patrick grabs your jaw, kissing you roughly as your hands round up his neck to his curls. “I need you so bad, please fuck me, please, please,” you beg with puppy dog eyes, your lips pouting with anticipation. He smiles widely at your pathetic pleads, “That’s it,” he whispers before stretching you out on his thick cock. You pull his body close to you, skin to skin as you wrap your legs around his hips. His low laugh vibrates against your skin, hands gripping your flesh. Before you could even adjust to his size, Patrick’s quick to slam inside of you, splitting you open with his dick.

He keeps his pace frantic and rough, pounding into your cunt like a whore. You whimper and moan as his hips roll against your sensitive clit, running electric currents through your body. He thrusts into you with force, by now you are sure your appearance is rough with your hair splayed out against the pillow, wet eyes, and red bitten lips. “Right there, oh, yes, yes,” you chant through cries, letting him fuck you into oblivion. There's a rush of adrenaline running through you, also the slight fear of your roommate walking into you getting slutted out by the Patrick Zweig. “Shit, you're so tight, so good for me,” the backboard of your bed slams against the wall repeatedly, echoing throughout your tiny dorm.

“M’gonna cum in this tight little pussy, yeah?” he murmurs in your neck before looking up at you. You nod eagerly, arching your back into his stomach as his tip reaches to your sweet spot inside your gummy walls, your clit being bullied by his touch over and over. You feel limp against his strong body, tired and weak from his constant pace. You help him get off by grinding your hips against his in unison, forcing loud moans from the both of you. “Look at you, so needy and desperate.” He’s mocking you with each deliberate and fierce buck of his hips. One of his arms are over your head, hands gripping on the wood as his other hand is fondling your plump breasts.

You use all of your strength to lift your head up, watching as his cock slide in and out of you with a lewd squelch, your eyes rolling back with an open mouth. Before you knew it, his dick twitches inside of you, spiking himself inside your warm hole. He rolls his hips against your clit one last time, drawing your orgasm from your core with a loud moan. Your head drops back into your pillow with a soft thump, his lips finding their way to your collarbone. He curses against your skin before chuckling.

You swallow the lump in your throat, breathing in and out sporadically. “Tashi’s gonna break up with you,” you say as he lets his dick slide out of you, his cum dripping out of your pulsing cunt. “I don't mind.” he replies with a kiss on your jawline.

© euosin all rights reserved.

[chosoisamalewife]

HIIIII I love you and your work and I was wondering if you could do a Choso x top!male!reader, Reader got home from a long day at work and wanted to take his stress out on choso😈

Choso x male!reader 🔞

A/N / THANK YOU ANON

A/N / CHOSO SLUTS ARE LOUD AS HELL BC THE AMOUT OF REQUEST THAT I HAVE (not complaining, he is my MAN)

WARNINGS : SMUT MINORS STAY AWAY , Top!reader , bottom!Choso , masturbation, face fucking , facial,overstimulation , dacryphillia , double penetration , ass smacking , not really aftercare because hinted at more rounds

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

If it was legal to set places on fire, your job would definitely be the first to go. All you wanted to do was to go home on time and see your pretty boyfriend. But of course you had to stay much, much later and it irritated you even more. However, when you arrived home, you didn't expect the sight of your boyfriend pumping a dildo in and out of himself

“Please, you can use me.” He stared up at your with teary eyes. “Take your frustrations out on me, I can take it. I promise.” Your growing cock twitched in your pants. The desperation and the whine in his voice. He knew he had that effect on you. He knew you love to use him and make him cum again and again.

“You can?” He nodded and moved closer to the edge of the bed facing you. His hands went to your buttoned shirt and popped opened the little buttons. He stared at you and slid his hands under the opened fabric. You couldn’t stop your breath from hitching at the coldness of his hands. His lips went to your jaw as his hands pawn at your sides. You closed your eyes at the sensation but quickly snapped out of the dazed. Grabbing his wrists tightly made him stop his short attack on your jaw. "Let's test that theory, yeah?" Your lips formed into a smirk as your rid yourself of the shirt. You pulled his body of the bed and pushed him down on his knees. "Oh, can't forget this." You held the toy he was using on himself. "Ride it while I fuck this pretty throat of your." You stuck the stucked the dildo onto the floor. "Don't sit on it yet." You warned him with a smack on his ass ass. You rid yourself from your clothes and moved back in front of him, sitting on the edge of the bed. His body was shaking in anticipation as he stared up at you. He lick his lips at the sight of your hard cock directly in his face. "Go on, sit." He sank down on the toy slowly, his pretty lips parting open. You began to pump your cock slowly spreading the leaking precum all over it "There you go, now fuck it yourself on it." He nodded a whimper as he began to lift his hips up and down on it. He tilted his head down, but you quickly grabbed his hair lifting it back up.

You slap your cock repeatedly against the side of his face. "Open wide and stick out your tongue." He did just that and waited for your next action. You leaned your head back as you slid your cock in his mouth. Your grip on his hair didn’t allow him to do anything. Your cock sitting on his tongue, taste of you filling his mouth, the head against the back of his throat. His nails digged deeply into your thighs. He didn't know what to focus on the dildo in his ass or your cock sliding in and out of his mouth. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

You pulled him off of your cock, more tears was setting in his eyes and drool was pooling at the corner of his lips. "I didn't say you could stop. Did I? Continue fucking your self like you were while I was having a shit day."

"I'm sorry." He whimpered, he began moving his hips up and down again. You held his head still as your shoved your cock in his mouth again. You began to buck your hips faster, the feeling of his whines sending vibrations up your cock. It made you want your climax faster. The sight of him shaking as he bounced on the plastic cock, tear pooling out of his eyes and drool coming down from his face. The sound gagging, it all made it a need. You began to feel something shoot onto your leg, he cammed. You pulled him off of your cock again, his breathing was rough and shaky as he took air in. "Stay still for me." You ordered as if could go anywhere with the grip you had on his hair. You began to pump your cock fast, you felt your orgasm near. The look on his eyes as he waited and the tears spilling out of his eyes pushed you where you wanted to be. You groaned out, body shaking as you came. Your cum shooting onto his face like his did with your leg. He let out little gasps at the spurts of white landing on his pretty face. You slapped your cock against his face one last time and your pulling him up. He moaned at the feeling of the toy leaving his body fast.

You pushed him face forward on the bed, pressing his face into the mattress. You land heavy smacks on his ass, watching as him squirm at the sensation. The pillows muffling the sounds of his whimpers and cries. "Such a dirty boy, loving me using him. " You grabbed the lube, squirting on you cock and his opened hole. "Thank you for doing the prepping job for me. I can you all at once." You pushed yourself into him, bottoming out instantly. He is so sensitive after a orgasm, the he screamed into the pillow at the feeling of you entering him completely. You move your cock in at out of him at a steady pace at the start, occasionally giving his ass smacks. His pale flesh began to turn red because of it.

You grip his sides at you began to fuck him faster, the pillows could no longer contain his moans. You leaned yourself over him, nipping and biting his shoulder and back. You pulled his head up to look at his face. His mouth was gapped open, tears streaming down his face. He was so loud, a noise escaped his mouth each time the head of your cock quickly touched his prostate. You hips coming in contact with the flesh of his ass. "Please." He whimpered and his body started to shake.

"What you begging for slut? I'm giving you what you want." A loud moan escaped his mouth as his body stuttered, another orgasm crashing over him again. "Another one already" You said you yourself, slightly teasing him. He thrashed as your continued to fuck him through it and after it. You picked up the pace, getting to your high. "Just a little bit more, I'm almost there." He babbled something, but you couldn't make it out. You latched your teeth onto his shoulder as you went over the edge, coating his walls with your cum letting him fully fall on the bed. He groaned as you pulled out of him and turned him over.

He expected you to enter him again but was met with soft kisses on his jaw. "We're done?" He mumbled softly, assuming it due to your change of touch

"For right now, you need a break." You continued to kiss his body. Your thumb went to his face, wiping the remaining cum on his face. "Don't go to sleep on me, alright. I'm not done with you" You playfully nipped at his lips

"Kiss me to keep me awake." You didn't waste one second after the words fell from his lips. You pressed your lips deeply against his

[lucysstoryworld]

The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (1)

Summary: The aftermath of Bryce Quinlan's arrival has stirred up some trouble for the Night Court. After weeks of trying to resolve the issues on their own, the inner circle of the Night Court are left having to consult a dangerous female to complete the job much to Azriel's dismay.

Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda.

Warnings: CC3 SPOILERS, NSFW from the get-go, canon-typical violence, angst.

No use of (y/n). I might have gotten some info wrong about acotar and can't double check bc I gave my friend my books so pls be aware of that. I would also massively appreciate any criticism! I'm trying something new and would definitely appreciate any pointers of any kind!

Words: 3620 | Part Two Here

Azriel stood before his High Lord and Lady, frustrated and exhausted. Irritation was rippling off him in waves, his shadows swirling as though there were snakes poised to strike. Azriel was poised as though he was going to strike. The fresh spring wind had melded into the sweltering summer breeze since he had last been in Velaris. Gods he wished he could sit on one of the many balconies of the River House, with a whiskey and book in his arsenal. The feeling of the sun on his wings, the sweet scent of Elain’s garden being pushed around by the wind and the faint sound of Nyx cooing close by felt like a dreamscape away.

“So there’s nothing,” Rhys stated, more than asked.

Azriel felt his muscles tighten and his fists close. More than anything, he felt the tiredness weighing on his eyes as he furrowed his brows. The actions were so slight that, to the normal eye, they would go unnoticed. But to Rhys and Feyre, the actions were as obvious as the sky being blue. “Not even a trace,” He started, reigning in his annoyance. “My spies have tried, their connections have tried, I’ve tried and I can’t even pick up a hint of a track.”

Azriel wished he could go back in time and make Bryce undo whatever it is she did to the Prison during her impromptu visit. Azriel had spent the last number of weeks cleaning up after her. Or attempting to at least. Azriel watched as Rhys assessed the weight of his words, observed as he and Feyre spoke mind-to-mind.

Feyre lifted her chin. “So what we are faced with is that this is not something we can resolve…” she looked hesitantly toward Azriel, trying to lay the words delicately. Feyre very rarely saw Azriel so wound up. There had been glimpses in the war, like when Elain had been lured away by the cauldron. But this was a different ball game. Bryce had stirred up Prythian in her desperate attempt to save her world. Feyre could not fault the girl for that, no matter the swagger Bryce flaunted. But, they had been cleaning up, Azriel had been cleaning up the chaos she left behind. “Not on our own at least,” She finally finished.

Azriel struggled to move past the feelings of failure with his High Lady’s words. Though his bones were aching, his wings seemed heavier and heavier with each tick of the clock and his shadows now swirling lazily as if they were the embodiment of his exasperation, Azriel couldn’t help like feeling he could have done more. Like he could dig that little bit deeper to give his brother and Feyre some semblance of information. Anything, if it meant they wouldn’t have had that slightly disappointed look on their faces.

Azriel did not acknowledge Feyre’s words, instead picking a spot on the wall behind both of them. A pawn, ready to be ordered to their next position. Rhys could see his brother recessing. He remembered the time he saw Azriel again after the first wars, that same demeanour being mirrored right before his eyes. “We will discuss what to do later. You’ve been gone awhile, brother. Rest for a bit,” Rhys declared, and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. A sliver of guilt snaked up Rhys’s spine when Azriel seemed to deflate slightly, as though he was prepared to go back into the field if he was ordered to. Azriel finally met the High Lord’s eyes, a silent thank you and apology all twisted into the gentle nod. We are grateful, Az,he whispered into his mind.

With that, Azriel left Feyre’s study. Walking the halls, Azriel debated saying hello to the members of his family that were in the River House. One would think that he would have been excited to see them. Typically, he would have. Though, this mission was particularly gruelling and with no result, the thought of disappointing anyone else on that day was the very last thing he wished to do. So, Azriel stopped in his tracks and winnowed to the House of Wind. Usually, he flew home so he could enjoy the sight of his home after a long mission like this but, it was an effort to keep his wings from dragging on the floor.

***

Steam billowed in the grand bathroom, so thick it was hard to determine where the steam began and Azriel's shadows ended. The aforementioned Illyrian warrior breathed a silent thanks to Nesta and her power for granting the House a consciousness. The bath was already drawn with various oils diffusing into the air by the time he left his knives down in his room. Slowly, Az began to peel his leathers from his aching body. Bit by bit, the articles fell away revealing the constellation of scars mixed with tattoos. Azriel stood bare before the mirror, studying the reflection before him. His eyes skimmed and paused a different points, though they were sure to keep clear of his hands. Scuffs of mud clung to Azriel's legs from the trenches he had to almost wade through, along with a few almost-healed scratches he acquired that morning. A few past battle wounds decorated his torso, the newest being from the arrow that had pierced his chest the day Nesta and Elain were Made. Averting his eyes, Azriel focused on his face instead. As if just taking his eyes away could take away from his failures of that day. Failing his High Lady and failing each of her two sisters was something that would take a few more years to be at peace with.

Azriel admittedly looked like shit. His hair was much longer than when he left, and he had done a few rough chops in the time that passed. Darkness underscored his eyes, and his skin looked like it had aged a few decades, if that was even possible. Azriel lowered himself into the almost blistering bath. A sigh loosed from deep within his chest, relief prickling across his skin like wildfire. Stretching his wings out in the water, his muscles relaxed from the weeks of pent of frustration. Azriel scrubbed gently, almost massaging his worn out body. The lavender and honey soap clung to the dips and bumps of his body. Gladness was all Azriel could feel. Finally, he felt like he was home. No disappointment or worry, just the pleasantness and serenity that Velaris promised. Azriel supposed the only thing that could possibly complete this scene would be a loving mate, massaging his scalp with her soft luscious legs wrapped around him from behind. Maybe she would kiss his neck, or whisper how much she loved him in his ear. The thought sent a rush of blood between his legs, arousal beginning to cloud Azriel's mind. Azriel gripped himself and began to pump slowly, thinking of how her body would push against his back. His head rolled back as he imagined her soft tits against his wings, her nipples grazing against the sensitive area close to the base. Suddenly, his hands were hers. Her fingers would be wrapped around his cock, stroking away his tough day as she kissed and nipped at his neck. Closer and closer, she would take him to the edge of ecstasy, running her thumb over the head of his cock. Shivers rippled through Azriel's body as he neared completion, his toes were curling as he felt his head became light. His mate would begin to lick at the spot on his neck that drove him wild, and her other hand would reach to lightly caress his wings. The thought of the sensation sent Azriel careening through his orgasm, spilling into the water around him.

With laboured breaths, Azriel got out of the bath. While he needed release, it seemed to highlight just how lonely he was feeling. How he wished the cauldron had blessed him with Elain that day, instead of matching her to Lucien. But alas, like always, he was not worthy of such a fate. Drying off, Azriel heard a slip of paper land on the vanity nearby. A letter from Rhys. Padding over to it, it read that there was a family dinner that evening to celebrate his return and have a discussion with everyone over what to do. Confirming his attendance, because with his dear brother it was always a choice, Azriel let the paper vanish into thin air. Until then, he was going to crawl into the mass of satin sheets and plush cushions that were seemingly screaming his name.

***

Rhysand or Feyre must have brought everyone else up to speed on Azriel's mission before he arrived because no one had asked about it and they were already three courses into dinner. He momentarily caught Feyre's eye, questioning her with a single glance. His High Lady merely winked and smiled, then returned her attention to the cooing babe in her arms. Trust Feyre to take care of their family in ways they didn't know they needed. Azriel allowed himself to sink in to the idle chatter, striking up a conversation with Nesta and Cassian, who looked as though they were about to have a domestic.

"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own against me in a couple decades, Nes," Cassian teased and looked to Az for backup.

Nesta caught the bothers' exchange and directed her cutting glare to Azriel. "Well?" She calmly demanded, though like always, there was a cool fury ready to strike.

The Shadowsinger raised his arms, "Maybe when you can reanimate a skeleton and kill a Middengard Wrym with it, then perhaps you'd be able to hold your own against her," Azriel quipped, earning a satisfied humph from Nesta. Cassian chuckled, squeezing his mate's shoulder.

Mor, in true Morrigan fashion, used the allusion to recent events to bring up the topic that had been looming in the air since Azriel arrived. "So... how do you think we should tackle the escaped prisoner issue?" She asked everyone. Everyone halted their conversation, waiting to see what the others came up with. Azriel dipped his head slightly, embarrassed at his lack of answers.

Rhys sighed deeply, his brows knitting together. He kept his eyes trained on his hand, which was currently being toyed with by Nyx. He studied it for a moment, wishing he could be as innocent and oblivious as his son. "I was thinking that there might be one person left who would have the knowledge to track them," Rhys started. He was unsure, not enjoying the idea of what he was about to suggest.

Azriel seemed to catch on and he couldn't help the scoff and eyeroll. Elain looked between the two brothers, "What?" She asked, wariness prickling down her arms. Elain had never seen Az so tired and irritable than this evening. It had to be bad, for Azriel to act so animated compared to his usual demeanour.

"Nothing," Azriel nearly spat, "It's nothing because we are not going to see her."

A collective realisation occurred across the original members of the inner circle, and more confusion within the Archeron sisters. Everyone's reaction was different. Mor frowned, Amren remained unsurprisingly indifferent and Cassian puffed a breath out of his cheeks. "Amren, will you explain please?" Feyre asked, clearly not in the mood for dramatics.

"The 'her' they are referring to is a female gifted with a magic long since purged from this world," Amren explained. "She is known in this land as the Veil Whisperer. The Veil Whisperer has been known to exchange services in return for hefty bargains, some of which has left those who have availed worse off than before they struck the deal."

"This sounds like it is ill-advised," Elain replied, rubbing her hands over her arms.

"It is ill-advised," Azriel affirmed, sticking Rhys with a hard glare.

Squaring his shoulders, Rhys did not yield. "Does anyone have a better solution?" He asked everyone, though his eyes remained on Azriel's.

"I hate to say it, Az, but Rhys could be right. We are in under our heads here," Mor added. "I don't like it either, but what other options do we have?"

"Why don't we ask our friends in other courts? Maybe Helion could offer us something we don't have?" Nesta questioned.

"We didn't tell any of the other courts about Bryce's arrival or what she did when she was here. We would have to explain that in order to explain why we are in this predicament." Cassian's words breathed a sense of awareness across the table. Of course they couldn't ask for help. Not without creating tension and distrust with their friends and fraying what little lines they had with other courts.

"So we are on our own in this," Elain began tentatively. "If we do attempt to solicit this Veil Whisperer, who's to say she will accept the job?" Azriel felt gratitude towards the middle sister for the support.

"Rhysand has only had dealings with the Veil Whisperer on a very limited amount of issues. Each time, her price is different than what she is typically known for," Amren's voice was unforgiving.

"I have only heeded her services a handful of times, for very specific reasons," Rhys told the sisters, Nyx's eyes began to lull as he nestled into his mother's chest. "I asked her to hide my mother's ring in a place that would be hard to get it out of."

Feyre's lips straightened into a line, and she met Rhysand's eyes, and damn... if looks could kill, the High Lord would be dead five times over. "I thought you put the ring into the Weaver's cottage yourself," Feyre stated, a slight hiss in her tone as her jaw clenched.

Cassian had to conceal his grin as Rhys looked at Feyre apologetically. "Not exactly," his brother began, and a barely muffled snort erupted from the general. "You remember that my mother wanted it to be a challenge. The only person I thought could be creative enough to hide it would be her... and I was right," Rhys explained and shot his brother a glare, returned only by a smug Cheshire smile.

"So you let this Veil Whisperer do your dirty work then." Trust Nesta to not pass up the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

Cassian outright cackled at his mate's criticism, "Nes has got you there, brother!"

"No, Nesta," Rhys challenged. Things had not been completely amicable between Rhys and Nesta since she gave away the Mask to Bryce. "I do not let her do my dirty work. Let's not join in on discussions you couldn't possibly have any understanding on."

"Rhys," Feyre warned.

The warning went unheard, as Nesta tipped her chin -- a tell-tale sign that she was about to enter battle. "No, what understanding could I possibly have. Surely no one else in this room has superior knowledge to their High Lord," She spat. Tension began to thicken in the room, like a fine soup. "Well, unless that 'understanding' matches your own. Gods forbid anyone truly disagree with you... Rhys." Nesta's eyes narrowed and when she saw her words had hit their mark, a smirk tugged at her lips.

"Well, now that we're totally off topic," Mor drawled. "Anyone fancy another drink?"

"She's right," Feyre sighed. Rhysand broke his staring competition with Nesta, anger coiling in his gut. "We need to make a decision on if we are going to approach her or not."

"What price does she typically demand?" Elain questioned.

"For my mother's ring, she demanded a specific tea." Rhys looked at everyone but skipped over Nesta. "I thought she took mercy on me. But no, this tea comes from a particular plant that grows in the Bog of Oorid, and happens to be protected by the Kelpies." Everyone looked reasonably put-off, Nesta particularly whose mate pulled her hand into his own. "Not to mention that it is poisonous in its plant form so I had trek back to the Whisperer's dwelling feeling like death warmed up."

Elain frowned, her mind trickling through her knowledge to determine which plant could have possibly debilitated the High Lord of Night. "She didn't tell you that it would do that?" Elain already knew her answer.

"No," Azriel finally spoke. "The Veil Whisperer is a master of manipulation. Everything that leaves her mouth has an ulterior meaning. Lies hidden within lies. You won't know the truth unless she wants you to. Not telling Rhys about the tea was her way of showing that she can down him in ways he would never even think of, without even a touch of her magic. She is a snake and jumping into this with her is stupid," He finished with a grunt.

"Have you ever seen her magic?" Nesta asked the table.

To the sisters' surprise, everyone shook their head. Nesta raised a brow at Amren, thinking out of anyone she would have seen it. "I do not enter into bargains with the likes of her," Amren stated as though it was obvious. "And I have never been in her presence. She does not participate in war, under any circumstances. Though I have heard that she works with other... deities. A rumour, but a dangerous one to float in these lands." Everyone remained silent at that little bit of information, not entirely sure on how to digest it, let alone comment on it.

"All this being said... I don't see any other viable option," Mor declared. The lack of argument was agreement enough.

"So how should we go about this?" Feyre asked. She hated instances like these. As High Lady, she should be able to provide solutions for her friends and family but her overall lack of old age inhibited her in these niche situations.

"The Veil Whisperer lives in the Middle. Azriel and I will go there tomorrow and ask her if she wants the job."

Before Azriel could even protest his involvement, Amren cut in, "She will want this job. She will gain information that she can work to her advantage, and that says nothing of her asking price. Tread carefully, boy." The warning was not taken lightly. Rhys dipped his chin, though his mind seemed a million miles away.

Feeling his social battery wearing quicker than usual, Azriel declined any offer of further drinking and decided to return to the House of Wind. Though he gave the excuse of being tired, which he was, he caught the look in Elain's eyes. The look that screamed that she could see right through the excuse. Whether it was her seer abilities or that she had come to pick up on Azriel's subtle giveaways, he was unsure. Feeling the need to fly off some of his stress, Azriel made for one of the balconies. Though the aforementioned middle Archeron sister followed him to the terrace. "You don't have to go. You can stay and talk, if you wish." The kindness and observation rattled Azriel's chest. He had never experienced a female be so attentive and caring toward him before. Not one he also cared for anyways.

His shadows began reaching for Elain, slithering and weaving affectionately. "Thank you, Elain. I'm okay for now, I will sleep it off. But I appreciate the offer." Well, it meant something to him but that didn't mean her gesture was enough for him to emotionally offload onto her.

Frowning ever so slightly, Elain's shoes clicked on the polished marble as she shortened the gap between herself and the Shadowsinger. Gingerly, she reached for his gloved hand and squeezed gently. "I hope you know that I truly mean that. There is nothing so severe that it should be shouldered by you alone."

Azriel brushed her cheek with his free hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged on his lips. "And I truly appreciate that, thank you Elain. Your kindness is beautiful, I truly hope it never pales." He said by way of a goodbye and backed away from her blushing face, stretching his wings. He could tell she wanted to stop him but he launched himself from the balcony before she had the courage to respond. Azriel felt like an ass, pushing her away when she was trying. He often found himself slipping under Elain's spell of sweetness and beauty, yet something in the back of his mind always reeled him back to reality. He desperately wished it wouldn't, he ached for the companionship both his brothers had. Though it seemed the Mother had different plans for Azriel... if she has any at all Azriel often thought to himself.

Azriel pushed all thoughts from his head and soared higher and higher, testing his limits as the air thinned around him and became harder to fly through. Up and up, closer and closer. Then, his wings stilled and curled around him. The descent was vicious, the earth was pulling Azriel down with a fury. The air whipped past the Shadowsinger, and finally, his mind felt empty. In that moment, Azriel was nothing more than a drop of rain from a cloud, falling from grace. Opening his eyes, the lights that dusted Velaris like golden glitter inched nearer. And just as they went from specks of stardust on the ground to discernible buildings and faelights dotted along the river, Azriel finally opened his wings and levelled off. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and finally shook the cobwebs that felt adhered to his bones. Azriel soared across the sky, allowing his thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow through him.

And when he eventually touched down, Azriel felt prepared for tasks laid out before him. Felt prepared to come face-to-face with the Veil Whisperer.

Part Two Here

[webslingingslasher]

peter being a brat for no reason like she’s just decided (situationship) peter is annoying her today😁😁 she storms up to him and he’s like “hello? take a seat” and she says don’t mind if i do :) and just goes and sits on one of the bros laps giggle giggle

i feel like being mean to peter rn. idk why. i think it’s pms but i hope he gets angry and cries😁❤️

taking a proud seat on ethan’s lap just to prove a point and poor ethan wants nothing to do with the petty argument. he’s hovering his hands, making it clear he’s doing no touching of the sort.

peter is very unimpressed. ‘trouble.’

you double down and wrap your arms around ethan’s neck, he shows distress instantly. ‘ah, ah, ah. no, no, no, no thank you.’ your hold is lightly picked apart, ‘i want no involvement in this. parker, i’m doing the best i can here.’

‘get off ethan.’ you cross your arms over your chest, ‘only if ethan tel-‘

‘yes. get off me, please god get off me.’ peter’s been in a mood all day, not just with you, with everyone. and ethan wants as little as a target on him as possible, he has no active participance but he’s gonna be the one to get yelled at.

peter smirks, like he just won a point. it makes you want to super glue yourself to ethan, but you move, only because ethan asked.

‘you’ve been so grouchy today,’ you pat ethan’s arm with the back of your hand. ‘hasn’t he been grouchy today?’

ethan spins his head around, straining to hear what’s happening in the kitchen. ‘did you hear that? i think someone’s calling me.’ he’s gone in a flash, peter stares at your face.

‘we don’t use friends as pawns. it’s not nice.’

you scoff, mumbling your words like a child. ‘you’re not nice.’

peter sighs before rubbing at his brow bone. ‘i’m sorry, trouble. i didn’t sleep good last night, i’ve been grumpy all day.’

peter’s not going to outwardly blame you, but you know he’s referring to your constant tossing and turning and cuddles. each time he got comfortable, you’d switch it up on him.

‘wanna take a nap? i won’t join if you want some alone time, you can spread out.’ peter shakes his head, the idea appalled him. ‘we’ll go have a nap, yes.’

[literalite]

mistki's the land is inhospitable and so are we (2023)!! as edits featuring mine and some of my friends ocs 😁 had a lot of fun with this project... rough explainer of how/why each song corresponds to each character/s under the cut because i love symbolism and talking! sorry it is long

bug like an angel - sapphire

without spoiling too much of her story and arc... sapphire's life is not easy. she's hurt by people she cares for and who care for her, although inadvertently, and in turn hurts people who she cares for and who cared for her, also not by her own volition. it's kind of a terrible truth that you will harm and be harmed by the people you love, even when you and they truly don't want to. it's up to you how much you're willing to take and deal. you can't keep every promise you make and you can't right every wrong. but you have to keep trying anyway. that's sapphire's strength, and the core of her goodness and why i personally consider her one of my favourite ocs. i chose to depict bug like an angel in mitski's more positive interpretation here and in that light i think it works best for saph

buffalo replaced - heiya

well first and foremost the vibes of the song fits heiya perfectly fhgjk but also lyricism and tone... yep. quick breakdown of heiya's background since i doubt i'll ever be able to do it properly she's an interesting character for me because she like a lot of my other characters has lost. everything. she had a wife and a child and they were both killed and she had to leave her home again and again and unlike how some of my others would have taken this she has never flagged in her unwavering dedication to preserving hope. for herself for her people for the future etc etc. which is a very fucking difficult thing to do! the world changes faster than you can keep up with it sometimes but for heiya she will not let herself tire and be swept away in it all. people rely on her. she's a guiding star as much as she is a woman. she's a lover and a fighter and thats what buffalo replaced means to me! so

heaven - vinny and caleb

i feel like of all my oc couples so far they have like. the sweetest most kind of simply mutually trusting dare i say straight forward love. they just love each other so much and thats all. the world could end around them when theyre together and it'd be okay truly. also yeah vinny is ostensibly in heaven now bye angel i feel like this one was pretty self explanatory. me and who WHEN

i don't like my mind - sunny

he just like me fr (said in denji voice) anyways wow ha. unstoppable unending guilt due to past actions that haunt your every waking moment? throwing yourself into any and all distraction just to take your mind off it, filling your time with other shit so that past sin doesnt for once echo in your awful and hollow brain? this song is perfect for sunny honestly just that sentiment also the "please don't take this job from me".... sometimes the coping is worse. you can be proud of something because you can do it better than anyone else even if that thing is terrible

the deal - wolfgang munch by @gunthermunch

Wolfgang Amadeus Munch. umm this will make more sense later on but it still kind of makes sense now i think. he doesn't want to be himself he keeps . leaving and moving and running away from his own memories his own self in reaction to others. if he could pawn it all off he would. if he could be better in an instant without having to feel every agonising second of change he would! but thats not how the world works. or is it. read munch by gunthermunch thats an order

when memories snow - lilian

i feel the older you get the more your past kind of swells up and trails behind you... at least for lilian that is shes very linked to the different versions of the girl/young woman she used to be. for her its a double edged blade, a lot of her own strength is drawn from who she was and what happened to her throughout her life. they haunt her but she's haunting it back in her own way

my love mine all mine - saige, bellona, ari

stares you down okay so usage of this song very much almost verges into spoiler territory but uhm. uhm. starts twitching basically the whole dynamic here is . sometimes when you love you will sacrifice. and while that is usually a good thing sometimes it is not but sometimes it still is. sometimes you pay your dues for love and sometimes someone else has to pay for your love as well. and whether that is worth it to them remains to be seen. but it's all about love still. whether that's a worthy cause is up to you i suppose

the frost - yoshiki and hikaru from hikaru ga shida natsu

fun fact (or not so fun fact since i had it listed as such) this slot was originally meant to be taken up by a gojo/geto edit and while it still works for them frighteningly well i swerved to do another black and white haired doomed gay pairing gfhjkl; i really recommend yall to read hikaru ga shinda natsu/the summer that hikaru died because honestly it speaks for itself! it's SO good i love it so bad

star - ari and luca by @anjitrait

wow these two did not deserve the horrors the narrative (me) slammed down onto their heads. they're kind of the most married of all time to me but like of course under pressure even the strongest most loving of bonds will warp. they've been together for roughly a decade and a half now. they know and love each other as totally as you could possibly imagine. despite it all i am yours, no matter. are we picking up what i'm putting down chat

i'm your man - nayef and sióar by @lucidicer

after the album dropped like at least 3 people swung into my dms with a ?this you?? about this song which. i mean the fucking dogs that start barking halfway through the song. are you kidding me. but anyways sioyef and devotion. sioyef and putting yourself in your lover's hands and looking to them like they are a god. this is super self explanatory. you know

i love me after you - redacted and ophelia

HM.... all i'll say here is that sometimes the homoerotic tension filled high school friendship where both parties have something very wrong with them but in totally different directions can be. scarring. bad. sometimes love just isn't enough when you don't know what you're meant to do with it and when you've lived in survival mode all your life. but that once the dust clears you can scrape yourself off the ground get up keep going and that isn't gonna be the end for you there. or for love, even. sometimes shit just ain't meant to be and thats ok