#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.

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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.

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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. Denerim and Redcliffe have 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.

If Branka lives what happened to her?

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."

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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?

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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?

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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.

[frailsituation]

Tips for writing a villain

1. Give them a twisted backstory

• A compelling villain has a past that explains why they became who they are. Make their history dark and personal, shaped by betrayal, loss, or abuse.

• What works? Their backstory should not justify their villainy but rather explain how it festered into a desire for control or revenge.

• Example: A villain who was once a loyal soldier but was betrayed by their closest ally, sparking a thirst for power and retribution.

2. Give them a ruthless goal

• Villains and antiheroes are driven by desires that justify any action, no matter how destructive. Their goal should be selfish, twisted, and all-consuming.

• What works? Let their desire for power, revenge, or domination overshadow everything. They believe they are justified, even when causing harm.

• Example: A villain who seeks to overthrow a kingdom, not out of idealism, but simply to make everyone bow before them in submission.

3. Make them calculating

• Villains are often detached, seeing people as pawns in their grand schemes. They plan meticulously, moving with purpose and efficiency.

• What works? Their actions should be deliberate and strategic, not driven by impulse. Show their intelligence, but also their complete lack of empathy.

• Example: A villain who uses people as tools, manipulating alliances and backstabbing to climb higher, all while remaining eerily calm.

4. Embrace their darker nature

• Villains are not plagued by guilt—they embrace their dark nature. Let them find power in their cruelty, and let it drive them forward.

• What works? Show them as unapologetic and even proud of their actions. They have no qualms about being feared and are often defined by their cruelty.

• Example: A villain who enjoys tormenting their enemies, finding satisfaction in their pain and suffering as a means to assert dominance.

5. Make their flaws have consequences

• Villains don’t have redeeming qualities. Their flaws—greed, pride, wrath—define their path and ensure they fall further into darkness.

• What works? Let their flaws be the driving force of their villainy, and don’t shy away from making them destructive.

• Example: A villain whose pride is so consuming that they refuse to ever admit fault, causing their empire to crumble because of their refusal to accept failure.

6. Show their manipulation

• Villains thrive on control, often using manipulation to bend others to their will. They know how to push buttons, exploit weaknesses, and get what they want without lifting a finger.

• What works? Let your villain be the master of deceit, convincing others to do their bidding without them ever truly getting their hands dirty.

• Example: A villain who manipulates a group of rebels, using their emotions to stir discord, only to turn them against each other in the end.

7. Make them evil

• A villain’s cruelty knows no bounds. They do what needs to be done, and that often means eliminating anyone who stands in their way—without hesitation or remorse.

• What works? They should be willing to destroy people, relationships, or even entire societies for their goal. Show no mercy.

• Example: A villain who doesn’t hesitate to wipe out entire villages to send a message, and enjoys the fear that it instills in others.

8. Let their obsession to consume them

• Villains are often driven by obsession. This obsessive need for power, revenge, or control blinds them to everything else—relationships, morality, or even their own humanity.

• What works? Let their obsession escalate over time, showing how it spirals out of control until it consumes them entirely.

• Example: A villain who is obsessed with immortality, willing to sacrifice everyone they care about, including themselves, to achieve it.

9. Allow for betrayal and treachery

• Villains thrive on betrayal. They have no loyalty but to themselves, and they often betray others before they are betrayed.

• What works? Let your villain double-cross anyone in their path—friends, allies, and even family. Their only loyalty is to their goal.

• Example: A villain who promises to spare their rival, only to turn on them when the rival is most vulnerable, solidifying their role as a traitor.

10. Let them unravel

• As villains grow in power and dominance, the pressure to maintain their control will cause them to crack. Their downfall can come from their inability to manage the very chaos they’ve created.

• What works? Show their confidence slipping, as the consequences of their choices catch up to them. This can bring about their ultimate defeat or destruction.

• Example: A villain who, after accumulating power, loses control over their empire, eventually crumbling under the weight of their own tyranny.

11. Allow for redemption (or not)

• The possibility of redemption adds complexity. However, it’s important that it feels earned. Alternatively, allow your villain to continue spiraling if redemption is out of reach.

• What works? Either let them evolve toward redemption—or show that their flaws are too deeply ingrained for them to ever return from darkness.

• Example: A villain who, after everything, is offered a chance to change but chooses power over love, reinforcing their villainous arc.

Follow for more!

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4

PART 3 THE CHECKMATE CHAOS

Night had fallen, and some boys were arriving at the cabin, buzzing with excitement. Their backpacks jingled with snacks, random knick-knacks, and a chessboard that looked like it had seen better days.

In the dim light of the cabin, Mattia set up the chess pieces with a confident smirk. "Alright, who's next to lose?" he taunted, brushing off imaginary dust from his hands.

A boy grunted, flopping down on a nearby beanbag after being defeated. "You’re impossible, dude."

"It’s all skill, my friend," Mattia said, flashing a cocky grin as he rearranged the board.

"Stop lying," Casey, his best friend, teased as he swatted the back of his head. "You’re just lucky."

Mattia shrugged. "Luck, skill… same difference. Anybody else want to play? Come on, don’t be shy..."

"Did someone call me?"

The room fell silent. Enter Matheo Sainz, swaggering in with the kind of confidence that could rival a rock star. His dark blue varsity jacket was slung casually over his shoulder, and, for reasons no one could understand, he was wearing sunglasses. At night.

"Matheo," Mattia muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"Mattia," Matheo replied smoothly, sliding off his glasses and tossing them onto the table. He placed a small pouch of coins on the board. "Care for a game?"

Mattia leaned back in his chair. "You sure about this? I don’t go easy on anyone."

Matheo smirked. "Neither do I."

The two sat down, locking eyes like they were about to duel in an action movie. The cabin crowd circled them, their whispers laced with anticipation.

Mattia moved his pawn. "Ready to lose?"

Matheo countered with his knight. "We’ll see who’s losing."

As the game progressed, tension built. Pieces were captured, strategies were debated, and snacks were abandoned in the heat of the moment. Finally, Matheo leaned back, his smirk growing wider.

"Let’s make this interesting," he said. "Loser has to... jump into the lake."

Mattia raised an eyebrow. "That’s it? Weak."

"Fine. Loser has to jump into the lake… naked," Matheo added, drawing gasps from the crowd.

Mattia grinned. "Deal."

The game reached its climax. Mattia’s fingers hovered over his queen, his mind racing. One wrong move, and it was over. Finally, he placed his piece with a triumphant smile. "Checkmate."

The crowd erupted in cheers, until Matheo casually slid his rook across the board.

"And… checkmate," Matheo said with a wink.

Mattia’s jaw dropped. "What?! No way!"

"Way," Matheo replied, standing up and stretching.

"Better start stripping, Mattia," Dean teased, barely containing his laughter.

A grumbling Mattia trudged toward the lake, shedding his shirt along the way. The group followed, cackling as he dove into the freezing water.

"Happy now?" Mattia shouted, teeth chattering.

"Very," Matheo replied, holding up Mattia’s clothes. "Goodnight!"

"Wait, what?!" Mattia scrambled out of the lake, only to find his shoes sitting alone on the dock. "Matheo, you’re dead!"

***

The next morning, Matheo’s laughter was short-lived. He stepped out of his cabin to find their beds hoisted onto the roof, a giant London flag waving proudly from the flagpole.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered.

Nate, his best friend, snickered. "Looks like Mattia struck back."

Matheo glared at the chaos. "Oh, it’s war now."

That night, revenge brewed. Armed with honey, whipped cream, and a roll of yarn, Matheo and his friends snuck into Mattia’s cabin, giggling like maniacs.

"This is going to be legendary," Nate whispered.

"And sticky," Dean added, spreading honey across the floorboards.

***

By dawn, chaos ensued. Mattia woke up to find the cabin transformed into a sticky, stringy mess. Honey clung to his feet, whipped cream smeared across the walls, and water balloons rained down from the ceiling.

"You’re the worst, Matheo!" Mattia shouted, shaking his fist.

Outside, Matheo doubled over in laughter. "That’s what you get for messing with me!"

Their antics didn’t go unnoticed, though. Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Russell arrived with a megaphone.

"Surprise inspection!" Mr. Hamilton announced, stepping into the cabin, just as a bucket of paint tipped over, drenching him in red.

Matheo froze. "Oh no."

Mattia smirked. "Serves you right."

"Both of you," Mr. Hamiltom growled, "pack your things. You’re on isolation cabin for the rest of the week!"

The two boys groaned in unison.

As they scrubbed honey off the floor later, Mattia glanced at Matheo. "You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met."

Matheo smirked. "You’re not so bad yourself."

And just like that, the prank war was officially on.

[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)

[fadelion]

I keep thinking that Signal would fight crime differently than Batman. It's not because of the daytime patrol, but it's how Signal himself goes about patrolling. He's on the streets, not the rooftops, and that puts him in the middle of people. It might be easy to be a target in a crowd, but Signal has that way of not making people want to hurt him, not from fear alone, but a mix of fear, respect, and admiration, leaning more towards that second one.

He'd be the type to feel like he's gotta be a known and trusted face in the city, not myth or a force of nature like Batman. Is he brutal when it comes to it? Absolutely, and everybody knows it. Either by it being daylight or it being in some more populated areas, Signal's greatest hits make the rounds on social media at least once every other month or so. New villains and old keep trying the new hero, and the new hero keeps finding ways to win. (The Riddler doesn't know whether to be frustrated, frightened, or flattered that Signal's been studying his tricks for years.) But he'd take that whole "Batman keeps candy in the belt for the occasional kid he runs across on patrol" thing to the next level. It'd take a lot of work, but he'd start to be treated like one of those police officers who make themselves known and not just their presence.

I also think that this would eventually give him that kind of worst kept secret identity that Daredevil does (or like Black Lightning wben he was Secretary of Education under Lex Luthor's term as president), where a whole bunch of people know his face or maybe exactly who's under the helmet, but if you press them, it's "Man, I ain't know nothing about no bat. All I know is Signal is Signal, he wear bright ass yellow, and he the type of MF you can flag down if he ain't moving full speed, and instead of needing to know who he is, you NEED to start dapping him up instead of hating on his ass." People could probably pick him out of a lineup, but they'd intentionally not do it. He'd have a bunch if people willing to come to him with a problem or give him a tip or something.

It's rough at first, because everybody sees him like just another Bat, and everybody in the Narrows has a story of how somebody they know or love got done dirty by the big bad Bat. ("That MF powerbombed a guy off a second story balcony onto the roof of my car. Woulda lost my damn job if my auntie ain't give me a ride after her night shift. Almost died, cause she tired as fuck after that double. Bat done broke all my windows and shit. I just got that MF detailed and tinted too!) He's almost seen like a cop at first, and people in the Narrows are wary at best and downright hostile at worst, criminal or not. (Duke gets it. He's as much "Fuck the Police" as he is "Be the change you want to see in the world.") But they notice Signal seems to be a lot more careful than the other bats. Stick Robin is a coin flip on whether he actually cares or is just getting info or stopping crimes, and Sword Robin doesn't give a fuck how uneasy he makes you. The girls are fine, unless they after you, then you paying Ms. Rita or Mr. Raymond to set your bones back and maybe getting some crutches from Shawn that fell off the back of a truck or out the pawn shop or a neighbor or something.

("Red Hood, like, he a'ight. I mean, he killed Unc and them, but his rules really did make it a bit better out here tho. Just took a minute.")

But Signal? If he got you, you really did that shit. Like, you was talking to people you shouldn't have been talking to and making deals you shouldn't have been doing. Signal will give you the chance to turn yourself in, or just stop, or something. You'll be breaking in the trap house for the first cook, and Signal will just pop in like "Did you know Mama Shirley about to retire from her job at the post office?" And he'll just look at you like you're stupid until you turn off the stove, and then he'll pat you on the shoulder and leave. And when you finally get that job, within the first week, Signal calls you by name and asks how the job treating you. Signal will stop the robbery at the corner store and then drop the robber off at his granny's house because that punishment would feel way worse than jail time. Signal having people to call off drive-bys because he was spotted on the next block playing basketball or getting lunch at that one food truck or talking with the old heads or something.

(When the Flash, on a rare trip to Gotham, notices and compliments him on it, Duke grins responds "I'm just trying to get like you.")

[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...

[gouraminnow]

Short Yandere Crocodile Drabble

Been rolling around the idea of Yandere Crocodile and a Selkie reader... not polished but essentially, someone has taken your pelt.

Luckily enough, they don't know that they've stumbled upon- they just think they've found a high-quality seal pelt. Unfortunately, your coat ends up as the subject of a series of auctions and pawnings, moving surprisingly quick as you desperately try to catch up to it. None of the people who touch your coat realize what it is, which is good. As long as they don't know about you, and don't give you an order, you don't have anything to obey even with your fur in their possession. It's a race to track down your pelt and retrieve it before somebody realizes just what it is that they have.

But then of course, your worst nightmare. Crocodile just had to come across it, and take interest... and you need to get it back before it ends up as the lining in one of his new coats. And that's how you find yourself skulking through Rain Dinners. It had been... unsettlingly easy, but the pull of that stolen part of you is irresistible- telling you exactly where you need to go. You're careful, you're quiet, you duck down hallways and behind corners at the slightest hint of a presence, until finally, finally you come to a set of double doors. You should have been more cautious, shouldn't have barged in, but...

But you don't.

You ease the door open and he's there. Your pelt held in the curve of his hook, fingers rubbing the soft, short but densely-packed fur. Your breath hitches, and still you move closer- trembling when his steely gaze finally meets yours. You wished you'd had the sense to question the strength of the pull- not that it would have done you much good. Sir Crocodile knows exactly what he has.

It dawns on you far too late that you hadn't just been following the pull of that missing piece of yourself, but a command. You find yourself sliding right into the seat across from him, trembling at his desk. He chuckles, a deep sound that makes you wince- carefully laying your pelt down on the desk before him. You stare at the fur, cold sweat running down your neck. His sharp grin widens when he sees your fingers twitch, but he doesn't say anything. You... can't reach for it. You want to make a grab for it, but your body just won't. "It's nice of you to join me," he rumbles, pulling a silver tray closer- with two glasses and a bottle of scotch. "Would you care for a drink, while we talk business?"

Your eye twitches. Business? "No," you whisper, hands trembling. "I'm just here for my coat."

"Well then..." He opens the bottle- an effortless, fluid motion. His hook rests on your fur, gleaming in the low light of his office as he pours himself a drink. He leans back, swirling the glass, and you hear the creak of his chair under his massive frame. "I apologize... you're going to be sorely disappointed. I know a high-quality piece when I see it, after all."

He's not looking at your pelt when he says that.

[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.

[storiesbyrhi]

Part Four: Friends, family, feelings

Eddie Munson x Reader Series Masterlist 1256 Words

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

Warnings: canon typical violence, references to sexual assault, swearing, drug and alcohol use, sexual references, child neglect, death/grief, references to organised crime

Late, October 29, 1995

“Gideon’s Pawn Shop just burned down to the foundation,” Grange announced, walking into a room where Brenner sat at a large table. The room was otherwise unoccupied. It was cold, industrial. What Brenner was doing was in there was anybody’s guess.

“Nobody cleared this little event with me,” Brenner replied.

“I didn’t have nothing to do with that,” Neil piped up, lingering in Grange’s shadow.

“And I’m sure you must be awfully disappointed,”

“And I got trouble. One of my crew just got himself perished,”

“And who might that be?”

“Tin Tin… Someone stuck his blades in all his major organs in alphabetical order.”

Brenner looked at Neil. “Well, gentlemen, by all means… I think we ought to have an introspective moment of silence for poor ol’ Tin Tin.”

Neil knew better than to reply to that.

“You’re working for me tomorrow night, right?” Brenner asked.

“Whatever you say, I can do,”

“Good. That’s very good… That’s very reassuring… So, I haven’t heard the story of why Gideon’s burned down? Was it a natural catastrophe or an act of God or something? Call it my need to know.” Brenner nodded at Grange.

The Pit was no place for a teenage girl. It was no place for anyone with a soul, really. Still, Max walked into the bar with her skateboard in hand. She located her mother.

“I told you not to come in here,” Susan whispered.

“Guess I shouldn’t expect you home tonight?”

Susan sighed. She pulled some dollar bills from her bra and put them on the bar. “Go get some food,”

“Someone already bought me dinner,” Max spat. “The police!” She said it loudly, ruffling the feathers of more than one patron.

“Shhh!” Susan warned.

“Don’t bring him home. Especially if he’s got his asshole son with him,”

“Maxine!” was called from somewhere behind her.

Max grimaced. She knew that voice. “Speak of the asshole himself.”

Billy laughed. “Why don’t you go play with your dolls or something, huh?”

Max threw him a look and the finger, grabbed the money, and left.

Billy took her place in front of Susan. “Better get your little bitch under control there. Don’t want T-Bird hearing about her quality time with Hop the Cop, yeah?”

Susan clenched her teeth, lowered her gaze, and nodded.

Max skated through the dark, wet streets. She was upset but wouldn’t let it show. She concealed as much as she could. Still, she often got lost in her thoughts, her memories. They hurt like a bad headache.

She was under one of these spells as she skated out onto the road. Someone grabbed her from behind, saving her from becoming roadkill. She thrashed in their arms, screaming, “Get off me, you creep!”

Eddie let her go.

Max yelled after the car, “You didn’t slow down, dickhead!”

“He couldn’t have stopped,” Eddie said.

“Whatever. I could’ve made it…” She looked at him, though he tried to hide his face. “What are you supposed to be? A clown or something?”

“Or something,” he replied.

Max shrugged and moved to retrieve her skateboard from the gutter. “It’s more like surfing than skating out here,” she said absently. “I wish the rain would stop just once,”

“It can’t rain all the time.”

Max knew that voice. She knew that line. “Eddie?!” She spun around, but the street was deserted.

Hopper sat at his desk drinking coffee from a mug that read ‘mornings are for coffee and contemplation.’ It was a few hours until midnight.

“Don’t thank me,” Office Annie Cooper-Smith said as she dropped a file on his desk. “Are we fighting the good fight?”

Hopper hesitated. “Double homicide a year ago. No convictions…”

Annie took the paper from Hopper and read aloud. “We, the undersigned tenants of 1986 Caulderon Court Apartments- What is this? A petition?”

“A big kick-me sign for a very nice girl who found herself a cause,”

“A cause that got her killed?”

Hopper said nothing.

“She was fighting tenant eviction in that neighbourhood?”

Hopper sighed. He said your name. Paused. “Her and her heavy metal boyfriend Eddie Munson.”

Annie left Hopper to look over the files. He found a picture of Eddie. It was a promotional shot taken of his band, Corroded Coffin. Hopper pulled out a black pen and coloured in Eddie’s face.

Hopper was keeping his own secrets. Maybe, he thought, so was someone else.

November, 1994

It only worked until Hopper walked in. Before him, you’d been feigning some sort of amnesia.

It wasn’t as though it was easier pretending you’d forgotten. That’s why people usually faked memory loss, you figured. Remembering hurt, so it was easier not to. Easier to bury the past. The truth was, either way was agony. Either way was an army crawl through Hell.

You pretended you’d forgotten so you didn’t have to say it out loud. So you didn’t have to use words to describe the sound of Eddie’s scream or your own death rattle. Describe the sensation of a knife hitting your bones. Describe the torture. The rape. The begging. The sobbing. The extinguished hope that accompanied knowing Eddie could not have possibly survived the fall, despite what Hopper told you.

You pretended so you didn’t have to tell anyone what it meant to die. Or how you’d never forgive them for bringing you back to a world without Eddie.

Hopper, who hadn’t always been a good cop but had always been a good person, told you that if there was any shot at putting the men responsible behind bars, you had no choice but to remember. And he had no choice but to hand you over to people who could protect you.

April, 1995

It had been over 150 days without Eddie. Over 150 days since you’d died. Brought back. Induced coma. Awake. Relocated. Hidden. The hospital staff were told, once you’d been moved, you’d passed away. Everyone involved – the cops, paramedics, all your friends and family – thought you’d died and resided six feet under alongside Eddie.

Hopper held that secret and buried all the guilt that came along with it. The penance he’d pay for lying to the grieving was keeping a close watch over Max, buying her hotdogs when she’d not eaten, staying on her case when she skipped school, learning the difference between a kickflip and an ollie.

You didn’t speak to him. There had to be no connection between your life before and your life now. No Max. No Gabriel. Just long days of nothingness as you went through the motions.

In just under 200 days, it would be Halloween again.

You counted the days since. Counted the days to. Counted the physical scars. The permanent and lingering consequences of the attack. All the ways you continued to hurt. Nothing helped. It was all morphine for a wooden leg.

October 29, 1995

You had the news on all day, waiting for the reports to roll in. Devil’s Night was spreading, an epidemic. A war America was losing. But still, it was always the worst in the city you used to know.

It always started with a single flame. The fires were beacons, urging on all the people just itching to come undone. Vandalism. Looting. Carjacking. Robbery. Assault. Murder. It wouldn’t end. Not for days.

You didn’t know what you were watching for. It wasn’t like Brenner or any of his pawns were going to be rounded up and carted off to prison. Still, whatever was going to happen, you were bearing loyal witness.

End Note: There are a lot of iconic lines from the film and comics. Iconic, but a little cliche. We are cringe, but we are free.

We have obviously diverged from canon and now, and this marks the halfway point. How are feeling? xo Rhi

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[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.

[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