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#scholar's mate
evilwriter37 · 1 year
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Commission for @ashleybenlove!
Rated: explicit
Warnings: drug use, hard drugs, extremely dubious consent
Pairings: Viggo/Hiccup, Hiccup/original characters
Word Count: 2,380
Summary: If chapter 30 of Scholar's Mate had gone a different route. Eva and Ambrose have some fun with Hiccup while Viggo's gone.
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bookofmac · 1 year
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Renee/Phoebe slowburn real I am speaking it into existance
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never before have i been so intrigued by a journal title
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the vegetarian personality...
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snickerdoodlles · 10 months
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setting aside the fact that chess is a proven terrible metaphor for a strategic person/character in the first place, i have the silliest hangups about chess master!Korn in anything because Korn’s canonically terrible at playing chess. he wins because his victims know better than to beat him, not because he’s good at it.
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samtalksmusic · 6 months
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e4 Bc4 Qf3 Qf7# checkmate
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naranjapetrificada · 9 months
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tfw you have a genuinely intellectual question about something in a fandom but are terrified to kick the hornet's nest of asking it
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frankenfossil · 1 year
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no offence.......
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theimperialnuisance · 2 years
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FFXIV Write 2022 //ffxivwrite info//Prompt list//Characters//master post// Prompt seven: Pawn | noun; a person used by others for their own purposes/a chess piece of the smallest size and value. | Word count: 475 Characters: N’noah Wiloh, Emmanellain de fortemps, with mentions of characters belonging to @circusredmage and @tokki-yue CW: none Notes: Set after the end of the Dragonsong War in Heavensward but no major spoilers. Figured I’d give a little fluff since the last few things have been a bit heavy. Formatting will be fixed once I’m at my computer and not a phone. ——-
“Checkmate.”
N’noah sat back in her chair, crossing her legs and arms as her lips curled into a smug smile. Emmanellain sat across from her, staring down at the chessboard dumbfoundedly as he tried to make sense of what just happened. Outside, a snowstorm raged but it was quite cozy in the Fortemps’s palor with a large fire crackling in the hearth and everyone gathered together for a quiet evening to relax.
Quiet, until Emmanellain loudly proclaimed he was the chess master in his family and challenged N’noah to a game, despite Kien and Tokki’s strong discouragement. But with Bastian and Saraphina baiting him and telling him about N’noah’s past winning streak, the younger Fortemps was not easily swayed.
And so while N’noah and Emmanellain settled across from each other to begin the game, Kien, Tokki, and Alphinaud took their places behind the Elezen to watch while Bastian and Saraphina took a seat behind the Miqo’te. Blaise returned just shortly after the game begun with the tea tray for everyone and sat down next to Alphinaud, intrigued as Kien quickly filled her in on what she missed.
The game ended as soon as it began. After a mere four moves, N’noah had her bishop and her queen diagonally from Emmanellain’s king which hadn’t even moved.
Emmanellain had to do a double take just to make sure he was seeing things correctly. “Wha—but—how?!” He looked back up at N’noah, mouth agape. “We’ve only just begun!”
“Experience, old boy,” N’noah giggled as she leaned forward, folding her hands on the table and resting her chin atop them. She watched in amusement as Emmanellain tried to recount his moves, picking up various pawns as he did so. Kien sympathetically clapped his shoulder with a silent ‘I told you so’ while the other three exchanged looks of amusement.
“Up to your old tricks again Noah?” Saraphina snickered but only loud enough for her cousin and Bastian to hear.
Bastian shook his head at the seeker with a smirk. “One of these days, you’re going to get caught.”
N’noah feigned a look of innocence as she twisted around in her chair to meet Bastian’s deadpan expression. “Mayhap, but I didn’t cheat this time, swear it.”
Bastian crossed his arms in disbelief. “Really? Show me then.”
N’noah rolled her eyes and turned back to face the board, gathering her small pile of sacrificed pieces and placing them back on the board. “Bastian doesn’t believe I played a clean game,” she loudly proclaimed, gaining the attention of the room again. “So Emmanellain, I challenge you to round two!”
Emmanellain groaned. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” Even so, he set up his pieces again and made his first move.
N’noah arched a brow in amusement—he made the same opening mistake twice. She shot a playful glare back at Bastian. “Watch closely now. I’ll win this in six moves.”
Sure enough, six moves later and a sacrificed queen, N’noah curled his lips into a smile and sat back in satisfaction.
“Checkmate!”
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captainclickycat · 5 days
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Doing some nostalgia rereading of the Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen series and reflecting on the fact that it could never happen today.
Largely because guaranteed at least one person in their little group at that concert afterparty would have had a camera.
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evilwriter37 · 2 years
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Scholar's Mate - Chapter 55
A/N: Well, this is the end of the story, folks. Thank you so much to everyone who stuck around, and for newcomers to this story! Just... thank you!
I've announced this before, but I'll say it again: I plan on changing everyone's names and publishing this as an original novel. I'll be self publishing, so maybe it'll be able to stay here on ao3. I really hope that it will be able to. Again, thank you all for your support. ❤️
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paranoidmayfly · 17 days
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alas.....
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crowncursed · 7 months
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After Simon returns to Ooo, several people ask him why he doesn't just try to find someone as wonderful as Betty, and he reply is always "I don't think I can."
He does not fall in love again in that lifetime, content to wait until they meet in the afterlife ♡
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snickerdoodlles · 9 months
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me: I don’t really care about chess
also me: *complains extensively about characters terrible chess playing in DMs*
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labellerose-acheron · 9 months
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The Scholar's Mate *** [Loud Bell]
In which the Bonfamille Acherons convene after Hades is removed from his place as Mayor...[takes place: July 3, 2023]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @lou-bonfightme
[tw -- scheming lol]
*** *** ***
[link here]
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Of Oblivious Minds (3)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst
a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
~~
Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 
A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 
He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.
He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 
Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 
So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 
He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 
Not that you would reciprocate either. 
You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 
His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 
But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 
“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 
“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 
Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 
“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 
Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 
Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 
“When can I leave?” 
Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 
Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 
“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 
“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 
You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 
“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 
A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.
He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 
He committed it to memory. 
“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 
Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 
Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 
“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 
“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 
His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 
Azriel had had enough of distance. 
He nodded his head all the same. 
And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 
You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 
Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 
“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 
“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 
And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.
It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 
“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 
“Of course.” 
“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 
Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 
Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 
“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 
“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 
Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 
“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 
He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 
He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 
There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 
Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 
Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 
And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 
The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.
Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 
And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 
He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 
He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 
The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 
He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 
“Late night then, Az?” 
You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 
Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 
It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”
The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 
The months following were different. 
Everything was different. 
But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 
Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.
That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 
And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 
“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 
The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 
“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 
“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 
The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 
“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.
“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 
“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 
Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 
“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 
The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 
“I think forever.”
Part 4
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imxnotxhere · 5 months
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Acotar Men Fic Recs
** Updated 09/02/2024 **
I already made a list for azriel which was actually meant as a list for all the characters I read for but I read a lot more of azriel fics because he's my baby and the list was getting too long. So here are the rest of the characters and I also added some more azzy drabbles sorry
Azriel (drabbles)
@gothicbabydollz
az spitting in your mouth - smut
@princess-tulip-writes
az pleasuring his mate with truthteller - smut, big fan of truthteller
@fieldofdaisiies
azriel... - fluff, smut
azriel's hands - fluff, smut
Rhysand
@azsazz
dioxazine part 2 - fluff, smut, modern au, art school au
the lord's work - smut
if you should die before you wake - smut, rhys x cass x azriel x reader
just hold on - smut
a court of four horsemen - smut, part of a series
double duty - smut, rhys x reader x cass
what's mine - smut, rhys x eris x reader
@tadpolesonalgae
mine - smut, check warnings!
knocked up - smut
vampire!rhysand drabble - smut
professor!rhys headcanons part 2 - smut
soothing - fluff, aftercare
@leafsandstarlight
easy like sunday morning - fluff, smut
@azrielbrainrot
my body keeps saying it's yours - smut
@writingsbychlo
home to us - fluff
rhys as a pleasure dom - smut - technically a drabble? blurb?
@azrielscrown
mirror mirror - smut
daylight - fluff
@acourtofwhatthefuck
shrinking violet - smut
@shadowdaddies
if i catch you i fuck you - smut
Cassian
@azsazz
mirror mirror - smut
take it - smut
a court of four horsemen - smut, part of a series
@tadpolesonalgae
on the strategy board - smut
pools of sunlight - fluff
@leafsandstarlight
halley's comet - angst, smut
@princess-tulip-writes
drabble - smut - az x cass x reader
Eris
@acourtofmenandthirst
runaway - angst, smut
fox hunting - smut
closed until further notice - fluff, smut, coffee shop au
smut blurb
smut blurb II
@leafsandstarlight
destiny's battleground - angst, smut
my lovely throne - smut
despite our differences - angst, smut, series
the prince of blood part 2 part 3 - vampire!eris
@tadpolesonalgae
servitude - smut
thumb prints - smut
@serpentandlily
sly fox, dumb bunny - series
@azsazz
the burning of the autumn leaves and the roaring of my yearning heart - angst, smut
soul on fire - smut
a court of four horsemen - smut, part of a series
@azrielbrainrot
fire on fire - angst?
@gothicbabydollz
riding eris' face - smut, drabble
riding eris' thigh - smut, drabble
@honeybeefae
cauldron fated - angst, smut
@princess-tulip-writes
making out with eris while giving him a handjob - smut, drabble
praise kink eris - smut, drabble
Lucien
@tadpolesonalgae
solecist night - smut
@acourtofwhatthefuck
yell at me again - smut
personal problem - smut
the moon on a string - fluff
@princess-tulip-writes
drabble - smut
drabble - smut, az x lucien x reader (kind of)
@gothicbabydollz
dom lucien - smut, human!reader
Helion
@leafsandstarlight
a high lord's scholar - fluff
@tadpolesonalgae
new mechanisms - smut
sweet like peaches - smut
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