#mirror mirror is my personal favorite version
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Enchanted
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Pairing(s): Rhysand x reader
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Every birthday girl makes a wish... yours has been the same for years. One you began to doubt would ever come true; but what happens when it does?
SR’s Note: I am honestly giggling and kicking my feet over this one, and lately Rhys hasn't even been my favorite... I don't care. I like how this turned out. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift, of course. Enjoy (:
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Everything about the final day of Autumn was as it usually was; the cool sun bathing the Velaris cobblestone in light, the crisp breeze ruffling your hair, causing you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. Even the townsfolk presented the same familiar faces you’d seen nearly every day now on your way to the public library.
Today was a treat; the day before your birthday, of course. The first day of the Winter season would mark the day of your birth, and usually you’d spend the day before spoiling yourself as you’d usually end up having to work on said birthday. This year, it was no different.
That is, before two large Illyrian warriors donning seven gleaming siphons each landed right in the middle of the square, their enormous bat wings spread wide. The townspeople, as well as yourself, whirled in shock at the sight. After straightening, the taller one (Cassian? You thought?) cleared his throat.
“Greetings, Velaris,” he said, voice echoing down every corridor and alleyway around you. Every wide-eyed fae stared back in awe as he looked from person to person.
“As you know, the High Lord will be having his annual Winter Ball tomorrow evening,” he continued. You’d known; it was an annual tradition. One you’d always ended up working as the bakery your parents owned supplied the delicacies for the event.
“…andddd this year, the High Lord has made it very clear that the celebration is to be extended.” He coughs. Gasps and murmurs begin around you, and you glance side to side as chatter begins.
“The ballroom cannot accommodate all of Velaris; so only a select few will be receiving invitations.” The spymaster calmly cuts in, and the chattering crowd around you stops. All eyes return to the pair in the middle of the street.
“The festivities are to be celebrated here in the city, though, should you not attend the ball,” Cassian fumbles. His brother raises his eyebrows, releasing a breath and gazing at the crowd once more.
“If you’re to be invited; you should expect to receive an invitation in your mailbox by this afternoon.”
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You practically jumped on the mail man when he approached your drive, scaring him half to death as his letters tumbled from his hands.
“I’m so sorry! I’m, um… just, really hoping something came for me today.” You laugh sheepishly as he thrusts a pile of letters into your hands.
“Yeah, you and every other female in Velaris.” He continues on his route with a hmmph, and you begin anxiously thumbing through the letters.
You almost trip when you finally make it back into your small flat, sitting at the kitchen table. Your hand shakes as you get to the last envelope in the pile, only one elegant word written across the front of it.
Y/N.
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“I don’t know if that’s the right… I don’t know, color?” Your best friend eyes you in the mirror, and you twist to one side, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“Maybe not. I don’t know, it’s just not quite… right.” She says, the statement only a repetition of how your morning’s been going. You’ve spent the entire morning trying to find a gown for the ball tonight, but every single one you’ve tried just isn’t quite… the one.
You let out a frustrated sigh, and your friend / shop owner flits toward a wall of dresses, brushing through them once more.
“I feel like I’ve tried on a million,” you say. She returns just a moment later, a lovely steel silver gown in hand. You raise your brows at her.
“Yes, but, it’d be dress one million and one that might catch the High Lord’s attention.” You can’t help but blush, turning from her. It was no secret you found the High Lord of the Night Court quite intriguing; Gods, half of Prythian did.
She tsked at you and shooed you towards the dressing chamber, only for you to reappear a moment later in the gown. She didn’t hide back the gasp, or stunned expression on her face as you approached the mirror to look yourself.
“Oh come now, it can’t be…” But, it was. Seeing it in the reflection, you understood her reaction a little more. You were breathtaking; this one. It had to be this one.
You spend a good few minutes twirling, admiring the gown hugging you in all the right places. You finally glance down at the price tag, and your heart sinks. It was way too expensive.
“I don’t think I can…” You say. Your friend shakes her head, leading you back to the dressing room to change.
“Nonsense.” She says. You stare at her, a blank expression on your face.
“I can’t afford it.” You say. She only winks at you before shutting the chamber curtain, allowing you privacy.
“Consider it a birthday gift!”
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You'd never been to one of these before; not coming from a wealthy family, or even being High Fae yourself, there was never any reason to attend such an event held by Night Court royalty.
Yet, here you stood. In front of the polished black gate, separating you from the awaiting festivities inside.
"Uhh.. miss?" You turn, to see another guest had silently approached at your side. "Are you going in?"
You nod. "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry if I held you up-" He shakes his head, a small smile offerred to you as the gates open and he steps beyond. He looks over his shoulder to you.
"No worries... but, I think it's beginning soon?" You hear the groaning of the iron bars and quickly step inside, keeping in step with this new aquiantence. You politely converse until you've reached the main building, and females in lovely gowns pass by you. You nervously look around; maybe you should've prepared better for this.
"I'll see you around," with a small wave, your company stalks off toward a group of males he seems to know. You sigh, taking in the beauty around you. The gleaming faelights, all of the attendees meandering around you, the scent of jasmine in the air-
"I personally want to thank you all for your attendance tonight," you hear, and the room is instantly filled with silence. All eyes are peering toward the front of the room, and the crowd shuffles together to hear the speaker more clearly. You try and get a good look, but you can't really see over everyone's heads.
"I haven't had one of these events in a while where I get to invite our court's friends to join us, and as this marks the first night of Winter," the voice drawls. It sounds lovely, as though it was coming from a cello - deep and smooth. Not like the sounds from Azriel or Cassian, but this one was much different.
"...we are very happy you're all here. So, let the dancing commence!" And with that, the crowd is in a frenzy, chattering and partnering off for the first dance of the evening. Your cheeks heat in embarassment as you realize you have no one to dance with, and you recede towards the stone wall to hide in the shadows for this one. You feel a light hand on your elbow, and you whirl around to come face-to-face with the kind male from earlier.
"I don't have a partner either..." He says, his cheeks flushing rosey-pink. You give him a soft smile, your embarassment fading with every passing second.
"I'd love to dance with you." You slide your hand into his and pull him to the middle of the crowd, just as the music begins. His hand rests on your lower back, the cold metal ring on his finger sending a chill up your spine. You suck in a breath as he pulls you closer to his chest.
"Is this... alright?" He asks. You nod, resting your free hand on his shoulder. Now that you're close to him, you get a better view of his face; his sharp jaw, auburn freckles dusting over his nose. His sultry amber eyes that match the flaming locks upon his head; he truly is beautiful.
But not the reason you came tonight.
He engages in polite conversation as you continue the waltz, asking you about yourself, laughing and making light jokes with you inbetween the spinning and dipping as the music intensifies. You laugh with him, appreciating him more and more by the minute. When he's turned you around, his back to the dias at the head of the room, you swear you meet those violet eyes, staring right back at you. Maybe you're just thinking wishfully, maybe... maybe he is just looking at everyone, but he looked irritated, besides the sweet sentiment he'd made before.
You have to look away, your partner realizing you're staring.
"Is, everything okay?" He politely asks you. You nod, reassuring him everything was. But it wasn't. You were living in this moment; the music, the liveliness of the room, the way you were pushed so close with this male's hand on your waist-
But it still wasn't who you wanted.
You wanted him.
His hands on you. Your body against him. His eyes looking into yours.
You felt like a fool for thinking that coming here would change anything for you.
"I, uhm," your partner fumbles for words to distract you. "I didn't catch your name?" He asks. You meet his gaze, smiling again at him. You knew the High Lord wouldn't need or want you, so you may as well make the most of your night while it lasts.
"Y/N," you reply. He grins.
"What a lovely name," he tucks a flyaway tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes catching when it is exposed. He immediately sees it is rounded; and shame courses through you again as you know he is High Fae.
He clears his throat. "What a beautiful name," he reiterates. "...for a beautiful girl." You can't help but blush at his words, this male is laying the flirting on you thick. Doing quite well at that, too.
"Why thank you," you say, voice feeling small. You didn't register that the song had already changed, your bodies abseltmindedly falling into rhythm as you continue to sway with the music.
"I should probably relieve you from me," he says, dipping his head and huffing a small smirk. "Had I known who you were, I would have let you dance with someone else. I'm sure Rhys will have my ass for this anyway," he concludes. You furrow a brow, as the song engages in the final chorus.
"Whatever do you mean?" You ask. He opens his mouth to answer, but clapping erupts and conversations get too loud around you. What was he even talking about? You'd never met the High Lord, not officially, anyway. Maybe in passing, but there was nothing there.
Suddenly the room feels too small, too warm, his hand on your back feels like fire and you feel like you are sweating. You could pass out, you just needed a minute to breathe and get out of this crowded room.
"I have to um," you shout, over the loud conversing around you. "I need a breath of air!" You say. He nods, and pulls you close, hands still holding yours.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He politely asks. You lean back, meeting his eyes and shake your head.
"I'll be fine!" You say loudly. He nods, and you lean up and kiss his cheek. "I'll find you later?" You say, and he grins at you. What a cutie.
You search for an exit, clammy hands brushing the sides of your skirts. You find an open doorway, and travel down a side hall that leads to an unmarked door. Chest tight, you open it -- revealing the most wonderful sight you've ever seen.
You step out onto the stone terrace, walking all the way to the railed edge to get the best view. You let out a gasp; you can see all of Velaris from here. Soft music echoes from beyond, and you watch as a single shooting star stretches across the sky.
"This is, my favorite place to see the whole city too." You turn abruptly, not realizing someone had followed you. You stare in shock as Rhysand leans against the open doorway, arms folded, and one ankle crossed over the other. You immediately get embarassed again, remembering this is his building and his terrace and you were out here without permission-
"No need to worry, darling." He strides over to you, and you feel a tiny tickling inside your head. Your fingers brush your temple on instinct, and you remember that he could in fact see what you were thinking.
"Enjoying the ball?" He asks, his silky tenor causing your attempt to clear your mind to fail. You huff, turning back to the city beyond. He puts his hands on the balcony railing next to you, one hand nearly brushing yours.
"Oh! Um... yes. Yes I have been." Your mind flashes to the dances you'd shared with the readhead, how he held you, and how you'd wished it was Rhys the whole time...
Clear your mind, Cauldron! He could easily see what you were thinking.
"That's... great." His sudden clipped tone had you side-eyeing him. The night seemed to radiate off of him, the onyx crown atop his head gleaming in the moonlight. He was definately intimidating, but you remembered what your new friend said. Did you even catch his name? No. You were too focused on the High Lord, though this other man was nothing but nice to you.
Cauldron, boil you.
"Can I ask you something?" You say. He angles his head to you, a small smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.
"You'd like to know why I asked you here tonight?" He answers. You gape at him, and he chuckles, the sound like soft rain outside an open window.
"How did you-" You begin, and he turns to you, a hand tracing his knucles down the side of your face. You flush at the contact, as this was something you'd only ever hope for in a dream.
"This... is something we can work on later." He looks at the top of your head, the idea of mind shielding grazing your brain.
Has he been inside your head this whole time?
You almost feel violated; if it was anyone but him, you'd tell them to leave you be. But... you couldn't. He was finally here, with you -- but, you can't help from a little bit of your attitude peeking through.
"If you wanted me here so damn bad, whatever the reason may be," you start, pulling back an inch from his touch. His brows raise in amusement. "Why were you pouting about in there? I didn't even see you dance once." You finish. His gaze softens, and his free hand brushes yours on the railing. The hand that once grazed your cheek is now gliding down your arm, tracing over every inch of exposed skin.
"The partner I wanted was already taken." He answers lowly. You don't miss the way his eyes darken a bit, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard to try and stop from freaking out and dissolving into a puddle right then and there.
"Well..." You begin, taking one step closer to him. The soft scent of sea salt and nectarines graces your nose -- of course, one of your favorites. His gaze stays locked on you, drinking in every inch of you with his eyes.
"I'm not now." You say, as confidently as you can muster. His lips twist, trying to supress the huge smile he eventually allows to take over his face. You can't help but smile back; his gorgeous features only more enticing up close. His hand slips around the curve of your waist, pulling you in closer. Your breath catches, as his other hand guides your idle ones to his neck.
"I've waited much too long for this," he says. You are sure you look like a tomato; there was no way he was fawning over you like this. The way you'd done, every night in your room; every day in Velaris, constant reminders of him all over the city; every year when you'd use your bithday wish just to see him, just once -- and there he would be, waltzing into your parents shop before the ball as if he wasn't reducing you to mush each time.
"I'm not very good," he admits with a small laugh. You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you don't allow him enough time to read your mind before the words are spilling out-
"I don't need good. I need you." You take the lead, swaying to the distant music from the walls beyond and streets below, and he only follows. Its his turn to feel flattered, as his hands gently trail up and down your waist. You try your best to keep from shaking in excitement; but it isn't long before you see another star flying across the sky. He glances in your line of sight, grinning and letting one hand go of you. He takes the gleaming onyx crown off his head, replacing it atop yours, tucked behind the brained crown near the top.
You stare at him wide eyed as he pulls your body flush with his, leaning in to whisper, "I'm enchanted to finally meet you," as his soft lips lightly graze the shell of your ear. You can't help but let out a small chuckle, not knowing if you are going to cry or not. You could; you'd only wished for this very thing for years and years.
"You truly are a princess," he drawls on, fingers tracing your jaw lightly. His gaze flicks to the star trailing across the sky, and back to you once more. "One that still needs to make her birthday wish."
Your hands play with the soft hair near the nape of his neck, eyes loving the way he practically wills your mouth to his. It's like there is a thread, a rope connecting the two of you, and he is using his end to pull you closer, closer...
He finally kisses you, softly cupping your jaw as your hands slide down his chest. Pressed against him like this, that rope feels more like a threat tied so tight, golden aura coming from deep within you at the scene around you. He slowly pulls back, eyes searching yours for reassurance. You only reach up and swipe a tear away from his cheek, the new feeling connecting the two of you reassurance enough.
"I don't have one this year; it has already come true."
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#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#acofas#acosf#acotar#lucien acotar#lucien vanserra#lucien x reader#a court of frost and starlight#acotar smut#rhys acotar#rhysand#rhys x reader#night court#nesta archeron#night court 2023#high lord rhysand
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Rachel Zeglar: I’m gonna be the first Snow White who is not going to be a damsel in distress dreaming about true love and instead she’ll learn to become a fighter and a great leader for her kingdom! No one’s ever done an independent Snow White before!
Me:
#and guess what?#these versions of Snow White got to be a badass AND find true love#YOU CAN DO BOTH DISNEY#mirror mirror is my personal favorite version#snow white#snow white and the seven dwarfs#mirror mirror#snow white and the huntsman#red shoes and the seven dwarfs#once upon a time#Disney
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youtube
I think it's really tragic that this has below 10k views for how much it made me laugh so I'm sharing it. Please watch this please
#for anyone who HAS seen this. Watch it again#“If you think you can stop the symmetry that's false” with False's minecraft skin being mirrored to create symmetry is my favorite part#Like there's so much really genuinely good comedic genius in these visuals#blabber#more content like this should exist#I discovered this is a remastered version of the same idea being done by this person beforehand but the OG also made me laugh a lot
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#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy 14#ffxiv#ffxivedit#zenos yae galvus#zenos viator galvus#gamingedit#myedit#mp#one of my favorite parts of ew tbh#not even because i enjoy zenos#(which i do greatly)#it's just so fitting and both meaningful to the wol and the player#did you enjoy the story? was it worth it?#piano versions of answers playing in the background to bring it full circle#and like here they are...the two people who were everything the ancients weren't to the extent that they could stand against meteion#the same in their passion and finding meaning in their life but so different in how they approached it#two sides of a coin...a fractured mirror#i still stick with my headcanon that zenos was the one to materialize the teleporter at the end#because of what it says about the wol...the person who can make friends with anyone...can make even the worst person a little better#can inspire someone as selfish as zenos to do this one selfless thing at the very end#that's who they are!
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Are there any other Kirby fans on here who are also fans of Star Trek? I know of a couple people already, but I’m trying to see if there’s anyone else. I personally see a lot of parallels between Kirby and Star Trek, and some of my Kirby fanart is Star Trek-inspired, so that’s why I’m asking.
#text post#Kirby#just asking because when I eventually get around to drawing my Susie redemption arc comic#it’s going to have a lot of Star Trek references in it and I want to make sure people understand them lmao#also I see a lot of parallels between Kirby and Star Trek in general#I think the biggest one is the parallel between what the Borg do to Captain Picard and what Susie does to Meta Knight#context for Kirby fans who do not watch Star Trek: the Borg are a collective of cybernetic organisms#they assimilate other organisms into their collective against their will to gain those organisms’ knowledge and abilities#in The Next Generation they assimilate Captain Picard and use him and his knowledge to attack Starfleet/the Federation#it’s basically what Susie does when she mechanizes Meta Knight and turns him against Kirby#the episode of the anime where Dedede gets the Scarfies as pets also reminds me of the Tribble episode from Star Trek: The Original Series#another big parallel between Star Trek and Kirby is that both franchises have a mirror universe with evil versions of the characters#also Magolor as a character reminds me a lot of Quark from Deep Space Nine not sure if anyone else sees it lmao#anyway if there are other Kirby fans out there who like Star Trek what’s your favorite show from the franchise?#my personal favorite is Voyager but I also really like Deep Space Nine too I’m rewatching it right now with a friend#I’ve seen all the shows and some are definitely better than others but they each bring something new and interesting to the franchise#I wouldn’t say that there are any shows in the franchise that I hate or think are awful#it’s kind of like Kirby too in that just as there are no bad Kirby games there are no bad Star Trek shows lmao at least in my opinion#there are some shows that are weaker than others or have some annoying features but I wouldn’t say they’re bad
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— “Okay, but in what way do you love me?”
☀︎ — pairing: tutor/nerd azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader
☀︎ — summary: It’s confession time! Last night you said you like him but over analyzing azriel needs to know exactly what “like” means.
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, confessions, creampie, fluff, azriel needs clarification even though you are VERY clear
☀︎ — amara’s note: pls enjoy and lemme know what u think💗 also sorry for it being short it’s only bc i’m posting another drabble very soon, and it’s a personal favorite 👀💗
series masterlist
“Why are you staring at me, Az? Is there something on my face?” you ask panicked as you grab your hand mirror on his desk and check your flawless face
Azriel's gaze softens as he speaks, “No, there's nothing on your beautiful face. I just like looking at you. And, I want to ask you something.”
You exhale calmly, pleased with your appearance, as you turn your body towards him, jewelry jangling.
His stomach feels leaden, and he feels nauseous. What if your version of "like" and his version of "like" aren't the same? What if you say you like him, but only in a friendly way?
You are miles out of his league, but he's not complaining. You actually make him happy and mushy when you call and ask him to go on little shopping trips with you, and it’s even better when you let him fuck your brains out from time to time. But he is in love, like deeply fucking in love.
“Okay. Do you recall—remember yesterday when you said you liked me? Do you want to clarify what that means? Why do you like me?”
The question makes you tilt your head in confusion, brows drawing in curiosity as you pull the strawberry-flavored lollipop from your mouth, resulting in a loud pop, lips covered in a thin layer of sticky, red residue.
“Wait, huh? What do you mean, Azzie? I don’t like you, I love you.”
Oh my fucking god, what? Okay, so he was literally about to throw the fuck up but he was a little hesitant to respond. Azriel couldn't help but think about the meaning behind your words. You were always so bubbly and affectionate, even with strangers. Did your "I love you" hold the same weight every time, or was it just another sprinkle of your charm?
“Okay, I hear you but in what way do you love me? Do you mean it as a friend or—?” He questions behind his glasses.
Azriel had, for the first time ever, brought you to his dorm. You were just laying in bed next to him but decided to straddle his lying body, smiling as his hands automatically held your thighs.
“No silly! I loooove you and I want you to be my boyfriend. You’re so hot and sweet and kind and you care about me, like a lot. Always keepin’ me outta trouble and kissing me too. You love me too tho, right?” You gaze down at him, your big doe eyes shimmering with hope, and your glossy bottom lip slightly quivering.
Love you? He was almost insanely obsessed with you. There was something about you that drove him crazy. How could he not love you? He gives you an assuring nod, all of your previous worries disappearing in an instant. “Yeah, I do. I love you too. So much.”
“That’s so adorable, gimme a kiss.” You puckered your lips, the sweet scent of your Burberry Her Elixir filling his senses.
He tries to remove his glasses, but you stop him with a swat. “No, keep ‘em on,” you insist between kisses.
—
To no one’s surprise you were bent over his desk, getting fucked stupid as he made you list what you loved about him.
Maybe it was a little mean since you couldn’t focus, your fuzzy brain filled with pleasure, but Azriel wanted to know anyway.
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
So you did, saying everything you loved about him. Every single detail.
“I love it when you make me breakfast— fuck, and—and when you carry me whenever i want. ‘m so close, az,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum — harder than ever, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him.
“a-azzie,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“you’re so perfect. prettiest girl i’ve laid my fucking eyes on —prettiest pussy ever too. i, sh-shit—” he falls into his own orgasm, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sighs into your neck, fucking his load into you.
“Holy shit,” Azriel mutters before he kisses the back of your head, the biggest trail of cum he’s ever seen leaking out of you when he pulls out.
“I wanna go again, please Az, let—let me ride. I’ll tell you more things I love,” you lock eyes with him over your shoulder, a smirk playing at your lips.
Azriel obviously doesn’t deny. He’s happy someone for once in his life wants to tell him how much they love him. Especially when that someone is his first and last girlfriend💗.
🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwlyniii @scooobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter
#talkswithamara#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#azriel#azriel imagine#azriel fic#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acomaf#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#az x reader#azriel x reader#azriel fluff#azriel x bimbo reader#azriel x fem reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x yn#azriel smut#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#acotar smut#the sessions series#acotar x bimbo reader#bimbo reader
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devil's spawn.
angel alastor w/ radio demon daughter reader
(notes: based off of the concept of my other story 'my angel baby' except alastor and his adopted daughter switch places and personalities. In Alastor's pov (?)in this chapter.)
(caution: RUSHED!! definitely rushed qwq so I greatly apologize. Not proofread in the slightest. Might have cringe parts am so sorriy qwq)
(Alastor is still in a way the angel version of 'the radio demon' except he's called 'the radio angel' by his fans, but he doesn't refer to himself as such since angel alastor is actually humble)
(I'm willing to make another part but considering Hs becoming more stressful and it blowing my brain up it'll definitely take time, but always willing to make more if wanted/needed)
It was another bright and fresh day in heaven, Alastor clinging the laundry up on the line while his mother, whom he managed to find in his decades inside the pearly gates, sat on a rocking chair reading a book as she usually would.
The bright heavenly lights making his halo shine, complimenting his wings, other neighborly 'winners' he would be acquainted with would walk by and greet him with a wave or a tip of their hats to him while he was outside fixing their clothes.
In this particular universe, Alastor is the complete opposite of his original counterpart. Where the original Alastor would hurt and destroy, this version of him would care and heal. He was selfless, kind, compassionate and sympathetic to which again is also a complete twist around compared his original self.
Alastor died out of an accidental kill, mistaken for a deer and shot through the head while he was out in the forest collecting his adoptive daughter's favorite flowers, at her favorite flower meadow on the day of her eighteenth birthday.
Unfortunately due to missing his baby girl's birthday and being taken away from her too soon for his liking he has been living in pure regret, panic, and pure sorrow form having to leave her too early and it pained him everyday.
He raised you all by himself while juggling his passion for radio hosting, finding comfort in your innocence and smiles when he first found you and as you grew up you gave him a reason to live and work.
That's the only thing that him and the original sadistic version Alastor have in common; the fatherly love for their daughters who are also their entire lives. Their love traverses across universes.
Eventually the more you grew up the more.. peculiar and unique you became.. your innocence would melt away with a sadistic fire in your eyes that he would notice at times but would try his best to lead you in the ways of love and compassion which you had for him but lacked for those around you..
Alastor was finishing up his morning chores for his mother's home before he would eventually go back inside and get a few necessities before leaving his home. His pearly coat, his shining microphone staff, fix his appearance in the mirror just a tad, and finally hugging his mother goodbye from the porch to head up and down the street towards the main part of the city.
Yes, he was still a radio host as well too.
Instead of broadcasting screams of pain and terror from sinners he instead would give voices to those who wished to express their passions, interview everyday folk and influential people on opinions and advice to those listening to his radio show and he even has good connections and acquaintances to the high Seraphims of heaven in order to get the latest news in the ruling of heaven.
He's just as famous as he was in life, maybe more considering how many people there are in heaven alone.
His polished shoes creating sounds on the pavement as he hummed a special tune that he adores, a tune he used to sing to you. Yet again still greeting passing by acquaintances and fans of his show with genuine glee and care.
Alastor waved off to an old friend while walking by, shining his taken cared for smile. "Good to see you again Roger, don't forget to tune in soon in a few hours! It'll be a real gas so don't miss i-- oh my!"
Alastor looked down as he seemed to bump into someone small, looking down at his feet he saw a young little girl. Another fellow 'winner' she seemed to have bumped into him with chocolate smeared around her mouth with a giddy yet apologetic smile on her face. And unfortunately smeared some chocolate on his pants.
"Hiya mister!" she waved, showing her dirtied little hand as well "Sorries! I didn't watch where I was going..!"
Alastor noticed the stain and his jaw hung slightly from surprise but then immediately laughed it off, petting the young girl on the head in understanding.
"Oh little one, don't worry about it at all! Here, so you can clean yourself up." He then took a white embroidered handkerchief for his chest pocket to give to the little girl who then wiped her face and her hands, seeing her struggle a bit Alastor graciously held her hands gently to wipe them off for her and her nose as well.
"Mary!" A voice exclaimed that approached, a woman than came into view, a winner as well. "Oh! Well if it isn't our most kind radio host! I deeply apologize about my daughter sir.." The mother would smile sheepishly and apologetically. "Thank you so much for helping my little girl, I apologize for her clumsiness! Could I perhaps offer you help of any kind?..”
Alastor shook his head as he would then neatly fold the handkerchief and saved it in his coat this time so that he could remember to wash it when he got back home. "Oh no no! No need ma'am, it's nothing a little magic can't cover up for the time being!" He smiled at the woman who now had her hands placed on her daughter's shoulders with a sigh slipping through her lips. He looked down at the girl as he gave her a pat on the head "On the other hand, are you okay dear? I do hope you didn't hit yourself too hard!.."
The little girl shook her head as well in reply, "Nu-uh mister! Thank you for helping me! I promise not to bump into anymore misters or any misseses!" Oh her messing up of words ringed a bell in his head
"How darling! Take care of yourself and your mother now, " He looked up at the woman to then lower his head slightly in respect before resuming his steps again "Apologies for the rush, just trying to see if I can get some special guests on my radio show tonight!"
The woman waved at him 'goodbye' with her young girl following suit "Oh I sure hope they agree! Good day to you Alastor!"
"Good day to you as well madame!" he waved back as he finally took enough steps away from them to now get a clearer view of the inside of the city.
He couldn't help but sigh in despair, he remembers when he used to have his own little girl.
Took care of her as if she was his own blood, as if they came form the same flesh and heritage.
And although you didn't, he never loved you any less.
His smile faltered slightly but picked it up quickly, rushing towards the next moving tram that he recognized to get to his destination: the middle of the city. Once he saw one and hopped on, he could feel his heart pump with blood he once had as red and now as gold as the tears of the elder angels.
If what he heard was right, he would try to get a segment with three special guests from hell.
Sure, he knew that they came from a place of bad and evil but that didn't deter him any less. From life to death he would give voices to everyone that needed to be heard and he would follow it no matter where someone came from.
The fresh breezes and the smell of bakeries, restaurants, the sounds of workers in mom and pop shops and independent growing businesses were like music. He could've sworn that even the laughter of children and the chattering of friends, couples, and families amongst each other turned into melodies in through his brain circuits.
Heaven was.. heaven.
But his only sin was not speaking out at heaven's hypocrisy or flaws at times. Many times he would but it turned into heaven setting restrictions on him.. silencing his own voice. He was never fond of that but apparently according to Sera and that blasphemous Adam, it was required. 'To avoid panic and prevent disturbances amongst the people of heaven' or so they'd say.
He was working on a way to go around that.. change their minds. But it was much harder than he anticipated.
Oh!-- The tram stopped with a loud hiss and ring.
Alastor snapped out of his thoughts would hop off the tram and finally start resuming his walk. He was now just a block away, the more he walked the less the voices and sounds of work distanced, entering a quieter part of the city. He was now in the smack middle of the entrance to heaven, where ice cream shops were laid in rows, cafes as well, people quietly chatting and drinking their beverages or eating their food.
Oh! And he could heard a familiar tune! It was that one.. welcome song that St. Peter would often sing..
Not a favorite song of his.. at all.. but he applauded them for effort!
Maybe a splash of swing or jazz would bring it to life.. but he assumed that was the old man in him talking.
For the time being he decided to watch some place nearby yet not too close since he knew that if he stayed where he was he would be caught up in the performance and he would have to sing with them..
Waiting at the side and hearing the singing come closer and close Alastor would make himself busy by polishing his microphone with his breathe and sleeve, fixing and dusting himself off as to not give any bad first impressions.
And thankfully he managed to remember his stain that the little girl left-- forgetting about it due to wanting to get to his destination on time and helping the poor thing. With a gentle swish of his staff pointed at the stained he then managed to cover it with his heaven-given magic.
Once the full group performance made his way towards his direction was when he stood up straight, chin high, shoulders fixed, looking good as always Alastor.
He heard Emily's voice among the performance, the youngest of the two Seraphims.
He's quite close with the two, at first only starting as something for business until one day he got closer to them and confessed his past, and his regrets.
Emily reminds him much of his daughter, the high angel having an enthusiasm and mentality of a late teenager or young woman, same age his daughter was when he last saw her.
He thought, wondered, pondered, dreamed-- what his little girl grew up into.
His eyes stared at his microphone, the shine of silver blinding him when he turned it for a spot of sunshine to burn his eyes slightly.
Did she grow up into an incredible woman? Did she ever find love? Settle down and have children? How has she matured? Does she resent him for leaving him so soon even if he never meant to? Does she look completely different? Did she ever change her name?
Were you even up here at all?
He hopes you were, looking and asking for you far and wide in heaven. Did you seclude yourself? Did you hide from him on purpose?
Or were you simply in hell..
No-- his little girl couldn't be in hell. Sure she had concerning hobbies, thoughts, ways of doing things but it didn't deserve her going to hell of all places.
You had to be up here, somewhere.. you had to.
A somber sigh escaped his lips as he stared at his reflection in the object between his palms and fingers. His heavy heart tugging and ripping itself apart.
'my little girl.. where are you?'
"Alastor!! Hey!"
A young voice shouted at him from afar, looking up he saw Emily wave and ushered him to head towards her way from afar.
He let go of his guilt for now, and shined his iconic smile as always.
"Why hello Emily, Sera," he lowered his head at the high angels in respect for them "How may I help you ladies today? I see we have new visitors!" His head moved to look at the other three ladies in front of him that came from below.
There was a young woman with eyes that shared the same enthusiasm as Emily's did, hair of sunshine and gold, fangs as sharp reminiscing those of a blood bat, small and thin frame and an outfit that successfully mimics casual sophistication.
Another young girl to her right was one that seemed more reminiscent of an angel, her long hair filled with silver and moon, a gaze as sharp as broken, stance serious and unapologetic, she seemed ready to protect the blonde girl beside her but also had eyes of worry and a sense of uncomfortability haunted her features and her almost slouched back.
The last one, really shook him up.
The next young woman to the left of the blonde girl was adorned in nothing but pure red with tones of a deep hot pink in her entire look. Her clothes were of an era he knew of very well, of course he'd recognize clothes from the 30s!.. except they had a few odd touches that more or so reminded him of the 40s or heck maybe even 50s.. a bit more ahead of his time. She had a large sharp smile that screamed of mischief and eyes that are waiting to do something-- anything sinister.
Despite all this, these characteristics weren’t the ones that shook him to his core.
She looked like someone he knew, that he missed.
"Everyone, this is Alastor. He's heaven's most famous and influential radio host! Giving voices to the voiceless when he was alive and even more up here, and of course due to his selfless acts when he was alive he was blessed to be let through the gates of heaven." spoke Sera, introducing the 'winner' as he chuckled sheepishly.
"Oh thank you Sera, but it's nothing really! Just had to do what was right."
Sera then lead his eyes back to the newcomers, having him face directly to the girl with hair of sunshine first. "Alastor, I present to you the Princess of Hell and heir to the throne, Charlie Morningstar. She's here to present a few ideas to the court the next day."
Alastor's eyes widened in surprise, "Princess! I didn't know royalty were to visit us today!" he bowed down towards the girl as to pay his respects, standing back straight once he finished. "A pleasure to meet you sweetheart quite the pleasure! Didn't expect our guests to be of royalty so apologies to any bad manners."
The princess shook her head with a large smile "Oh!-- don't worry you didn't give off any bad manners! It's nice to meet you too Mr...Alastor!.. it.. it's very admirable what you did before and what you do now! You seem to have earned your place here quite well!"
The man shook his head as well in reply "Oh like I said it's nothing! If anything I should thank my daughter, she was my reason and my motivation to be nothing but kind to others to present a good example! I continue to do so in her honor."
Charlie's eyes grew as a soft 'awwww' escaped her lips "You must love your daughter very much..!"
Alastor nodded, "Of course I do! As a father always should!"
Charlie opened her mouth again to speak, her eyes filled with a sense of bittersweetness until she was suddenly interrupted by the young woman dressed in red. She walked in between Alastor and Charlie with a sense of charm and enthusiasm, the spirit of a presenter or spokesperson shining in her body language and way of speaking.
"How delightful! The love of a parent transcends heaven and earth! Now that's poetry!" the girl's voice was glitched out and heavily amplified with a strong sound of static, as if her vocal cords came straight from a radio speaker. She held a staff much similar to his, except her's was shorter and more compact-able.
The girl with silver hair rolled her eyes in nothing but pure irritation, Charlie giggled nervously as she then pointed her way towards the one who spoke. "And this is ______! She's the founder and host of my hotel back in hell! She's helped me throughout everything and I dont think I would be able to get to this point if It weren't for her help as well!"
Ah,
He knew it.
______, anyone could have that name.
But you looked like his daughter, his pride and joy.
His face still shines with a smile but his eyes are baffled with the sudden hit of realization.
It couldn't be a coincidence-- you looked like her, your eyes had that spark he always used to see in his daughter before he left. The way of speaking, that stance-- more confident and mature but the way you spoke.. your vocals were a match to his daughter's just with a touch of years to it.
And you looked at him as if you knew as well, eyes narrowing with piqued interest. Sharp smile widening an-
wait..
what?..--
You seemed to have almost hopped right in front of him with your hand suddenly shaking his. "A real pleasure to meet you sir! Quite the pleasure!"
You mimicked his greeting yet somehow you spoke it so naturally, as if spoken a billion times before. He was stunned, if there weren't people around he would've slipped and broken down right here right now--
but he cannot, will not.
He will not worry others, he will not bother others with his emotions.
"Good to meet you Ms.."
"______. Simply call me ______." Your sinister grin only stretched, a sense of despair fell into the pit of his stomach,
His little girl in hell?
Did he.. fail at raising you?
Was dying too soon the reason why you let yourself fall?
Whatever the case, Alastor was nothing but stuck in a small limbo of his own guilt again
If he did this to you-- even indirectly,
he wouldn't ever forgive himself.
"Ms.. ______..."
'my little girl' he would've said, 'my daughter, how I've missed you. please forgive me for leaving you so soon... I'm so so sorry my darling..'
the words were stuck to his throat.
a small gust of air was the only thing that escaped from his cords.
Sera clapped her hands together once as a way to announce, "Well Princess Morningstar. I hope your stay here is nothing but comfortable, and I say that to your companions as well."
Sera looked at the 'winner' with confusion and a sense of concern but she knew she had to leave due to duties calling for her and Emily's presence.
Sera gently put her hand on his shoulder, "Alastor, would you perhaps show them where their hotel is and how to check in? It's going to be the one nearby."
'the one nearby' he thought, 'a block away.. '
"of course! anything to make our guests feel more welcomed!"
Sera nodded in 'thanks' before flying off with Emily on her side, herself also waving goodbye to all of you as well.
Alastor paused, before finally turning his head at the girls.
"Well, let's get you all to where you'll stay for the time being!.."
He will find out what happened to you, what went wrong, how he messed up.. he'll beg for forgiveness from you. for you were and still are his reason for who he is.
you were his one and only daughter, he will make it up to you.
"Follow me now! Time isn't going any slower!"
Little did he know, he wasn't at fault at all.
You were just born that way.
You knew what you were and you embraced it as a way to cope from him being taken away from you.
Of course you had to blend in and you took on the mantle of taking over your late father's radio show, eventually becoming as famous as he was and you were nothing but just as charming as he was on his show.
But then you killed, the power imbalance favoring you was nothing but amazing to you.
Years later, you enjoyed it. Killing was your life's purpose. Your crimes were never a subject for you to ever regret or feel guilt for.
You regret nothing.
You were a merciless killer then, and one now.
Through earth and hell, forevermore.
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel x reader#angel alastor#angel hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fandom#viziepop#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin angst#the radio demon#alastor x reader platonic#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#alastor fanfiction#hazbin fanfic#charlie hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#vaggie#sera hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel
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My Top Milo Quotes
i wanna devour this man so bad. the original version of this is at least triple the length omfg. @mrsmiagreer it’s finally here <3
“From one pretty face to another.”
“Bedroom? Oh. Ohhh. [gremlin giggling]”
“Cute?! You’re gonna come here, into my home, uninvited, and tell me I look cute when I’m mad? First of all sweetheart, you’re damn right I’m cute—“
“Jesus Christ who taught you how to do healing magic, a construction worker with a jackhammer?!”
“Me and Ash give each other shit all the time. He calls me a runt, I call him a bitch bottom, we laugh, we move on.”
“Cuddled up with you, in front of a fire? That’s a one-way ticket to sleepytown, USA, population: this guy.”
“I do not spoil him! Well whaddya want me to do? He’s my lil guy.”
“I swear to god, if I’m lyin I’m dyin, he looks him dead in the eye and says “if concerns about the future of your relationship with Amanda are weighing on you too heavily, I’m sure I can get by with just Milo and Asher here.”
“Are you Lasky?”
“Touch me and your life will be measured in milliseconds. I can see myself out.”
“It’s back. I’m back.”
“And next thing you know, boom, you’re sitting here, a broken man, barefoot with no fucking dress socks.”
“‘So Mr. Greer, what was it that ultimately pushed you over the edge?’ Oh, I don’t know officer, might have something to do with the walking terror I call a mate.”
“So what if I am sappy? I’m running on sleepy middle of the night brain, you get what you get. Shhh. Hush. Don’t you be mean to me. I’m trying to help.”
“He’s a good little dude. Isn’t that right, bub?
“I got to hold my favorite person in the whole world. And only occasionally had to threaten to choke them out.”
“Mmm. You’re cute. Yeah, I called you cute. What are you gonna do about it? Get grumpy? Just makes you look cuter.”
“Do not call them my ‘titties’ you asshole!”
“Personally, I think I’m better at getting clothes off a ya than putting em on, but I’m ever at your service, baby.”
“No no no, don’t do that button. Yeah. Yeah, leave that one undone.”
“There’s my sweetheart.”
“Yeah. Well, it beats for you, sweetheart. A little more sappy shit for the road.”
“There ya go, that looks perfect! Yeah, what you’re wearing right now! You look fucking incredible in it. Yeah, I know you haven’t even started changing into the next look, what’s your point?”
“When I say you’re my mate, I mean it with every inch of me. When I say it, my core lights up like a firework. And when I feel your core answer it, and mirror it back, it feels like the fourth of fucking July in my chest.”
“I mean, obviously we’re gonna look fucking great no matter what, it is us after all”
“Hey, I know Ash is your mate, but would you mind if I use that choke collar you have for him real quick?”
“The power couple”
“And the energizer bunny takes a tumble.”
“And you won’t believe this next part but, uh, as a wolf, I don’t have hands.”
“You don’t have to ask, baby, I trust you. I know you’ll be gentle.”
“You feel like forever in my arms.”
“Oh my god, do they think my house smells weird?”
“I don’t want this for you, baby.”
“These muscles got more knots in em than you had wrapped around you the other night. And that’s saying something.”
“You run through my blood like oxygen, sweetheart.”
“Whose mouth is this?”
“And do not wear that belt, how old is that thing? It looks awful!”
“You’re not alone. I’m here. The pack’s here.”
“You want to see a hissy fit, bootlicker?”
“Cmon, head up. Up for me. There you go. I wanna see this pretty face.”
“Kissing my palm like that… you’re too fucking cute.”
“I just wanna feel you.”
#sorry this took so long#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redacted milo#redacted sweetheart#bubbler’s top quotes
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Wassup my children I came back with the(ir) milk :b
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MC and their boy toys or the characters with a toxic MC
Warnings: Wrong use of car, smut, wrong grammar, wrong spellings, overstimulation, orgasm denial, semi-public, the reader is Implied to have a strap or a disco stick but not specified, bottom characters, not choking but air deprivation
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
He is one of the most regal personalities in the whole of Hell
So thinking that he would be submissive, to a human at worst, will not even cross a normal demons mind
But that does not stop him from falling into your alluring spell now
Being ready to please and even walk on all fours just for his favorite human behind closed doors
You slammed the door open and when Lucifer heard that familiar entrance he just can't help but stand up from his seat out of instinct "I-Is there something wrong..?" He stuttered out, getting too excited knowing what will come next.
You wasted no time, closing and locking the door immidiately and making your way into his desk. Carrying him and slamming him into his own desk before you buried your tongue down his throat.
You ripped his shirt open and exposed his neck before you buried your teeth in it, leaving the beautiful marks he will treasure every morning in front of the mirror.
"M-My love... Please answer my question-" He begged just to got quite down when your hands gripped his cheeks "Shut the fuck up now, since when did I let you talk without permission?" He gulped at your response, a twisted feeling of lust rising up his stomach.
MAMMON
People knows how much Mammon treasures his previous cars
Not even letting his brothers use it and only driving it when going into casinos saying that it brings him luck when he do so
But that's not what MC knows when he made Mammon drive that car in a hidden spot inside a forest almost every night.
"S-SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCKK FUCK B-BABY PLEASE!~" His moans grew louder and louder as your pace went faster and faster, moving yourself up and down his already bruised hips.
"W-Wait pl-ease!~" With that final phrase his hips bucked up meeting yours with his third release for the night.
"NOoO PLEaSE, STOP STOP STop stop!" He continued to beg as his sobbed interrupted with his speech after he noticed that you're still not stopping.
LEVIATHAN
He locks himself up for three reason, that's what he tell everyone and he refuses to elaborate
But what the people know is that one of the reasons is that he doesn't like to socialize
Another reason is because of his obsession with his anime and games
But the third reason remained unknown for everyone else except for you and Levi
"N-NO I-I'M NOT IGNoriNG YoU MASTER!" His speech slurred as his legs that is placed on your shoulders shook violently as you repeatedly abused his hole with that new toy you got.
He knows his begging is not working when he felt the vibration get more stronger "AH HAH FUCK FUCK fUcK PLeaSE!" drool seeped out the side of his lips as he tried to refrain his hips from pushing the toy deeper.
"I C-CAME! MANY! MANY!" He repeated over and over again as his brain started to shut down out of all the stimulation he have been feeling since earlier.
SATAN
Satan loves the library like it's his own child
He likes the smell of old books
And the quietness inside
Of course, he loves the activities you do inside of it too.
You removed your lips off of his cock making a lewd pop sound before saying "Keep your mouth shut." as you smirked while looking at the poor blonde who's legs are on your shoulders and his hand covering his mouth so obediently.
His eyes are starting to cross as he nod his head obediently. You took him in back to your mouth making him arch his back "N-NoOo! Cum-CumMING!" with that his hips bucked forward, pushing himself deeper down your throat.
You looked up at him as you swallowed his load "Hah! HAH! U-Ugh F-FUck!" He won't stop panting as he gripped the shelves behind him as if his life depends on it before his tears went down "T-Too much!"
ASMODEUS
People always wondered why the social butterfly Asmo started renting private rooms in the club when he's with MC
Maybe
If they turned their music down a little
And stick their head on the door of the private room, they will now.
"A-AH! So GOooOD!" His voice cracked as you ride his cock, even faster than before right after he came.
How many rounds has it been? Three, five? He doesn't remember anymore. All he remembers is that you bent him up and started riding him like the complete slut he is for you.
His loud moans that matches the rhythm of your pace is such a beautiful melody "T-TreAT Me SH-SHOooO goOod!" His speech slurred as his hips moved upwards because of another orgasm.
BEELZEBUB
Beel I known for the emotionless expression he wears everytime
But this class is different
He seemed disturb and hot? Looks like he's bothered...
You made Beel sit in the back with you for two reason, one is because you already know the lesson and two because you wanted to see how long he can keep that expression while you're jerking him off under the table.
"U-Uh..." Is all he can muster up as his legs shook after all the orgasm denial you gave him, you can't let him stain the table with cum now can you?
Right when he started twitching, you moved your hands up and down even faster and stopped it right on the edge again but surprisingly he grabbed your hand and refused to let your hand off his dick.
Guiding your hand to continue moving.
BELPHEGOR
They thought you simply forgive Belphegor for the crime he did
For killing you
But what they didn't know is that you're making him experience it too.
You grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head up from getting buried in a pillow "H-HWAH!" He panted, finally breathing the air you deprived him off earlier.
Right after he started panting, wails and cries escaped him as you pound his ass "S-SHIT! MC!" He managed to scream between sobbs as he felt how his ass is already bruising from how long you've been fucking him.
"I-I'm SO SORry!" His back arched as he shoot another load, adding to the puddle of cum bellow him and yet you never stopped "PLeaSe S-Low DOWN ATleAst!" He wailed before you pushed his head back to the pillow.
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#obey me fluff#obey me headcanons#obey me nightbringer#obey me scenarios#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me x reader#obey me crack#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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The Corinthian: more than an object but less than a human and a wretched reflection of his creator
My obsession with the Corinthian is so funny because at first it's like ok. Cool. He's this gay serial killer nightmare with creator issues who's turns out to be a charming antagonist while he's pitted against dream and going about his nefarious plans on screen. What's not to love?
But then there's the next layer of oh...he has preferences and quirks and interests, but he's not a person enough to be a human he's a tool.. that's why he gets unmade in the middle of the street by his lord!! That he had a couple millennia of history with!! Because it's easy.. Dream has the blueprints, therefore remaking the Corinthian and editing out these faulty design aspects is pragmatic. It's efficient. It's less effort and way less emotionally taxing that trying to wrangle in your rogue creation and trying coax them back into doing their job. A human makes a mistake, you correct and reprimand them and offer a better course of action. But if your wrench rusts, you throw it away and buy a new one. It doesn't matter if it's your prized or even your favorite wrench, if it's been rusted to the point of uselessness, you toss it.
And the Corinthian, the agonized wrench, can probably only think: "Did I really mean so little to you?"
I think it totally fucks with his mind. The fact that Dream refers to the Corinthian as his masterpiece and yet he is still lesser in every form of his being—his agency is lesser in every form.
But you can't really blame Dream, can you?
Dream treats the corinthans agency like he treats his own—unnegotiable. For him, it has always been perform your function or die.
Dream: We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than what I am.
And the Corinthian, in his own eye teeths, has performed his prescribed duty perfectly without hesitation or fail for thousands of years as well and worn as a well used knife—but he knows he can do more, so he does. Because if his function is to chase and slaughter in the dreaming, what's to say can't do it in the waking too?
Besides, in the waking, he's realer. More combobulated. More valued. If you're a mirror for long enough you start to crave a look of your own.
And oh, even with the thrill of newfound freedom, he loves his lord. He's eager for to give to him—to share with him—everything that's ever been dreamed of. In the Corinthians long, long, life he has only ever had his purpose and his lord and for a while that was enough, but his expectations evolve, he changes.
And that's really what dooms him.
Over the course of The Sandman you can see that looking deeper into Dream's ideology "perform your function or die" reveals one of the true themes of the sandman which is "change yourself or die." The Corinthian, whether intentionally or unintentionally serves as a mirror to dreams own character arc and the way dream treats himself.
Like how people put facets of themselves in their original characters, I think that in the corinthian Dream put a version of his own insatiable hunger; to break every rule, to run freely, to enjoy hedonistically. In creating the Corinthian as a mirror Dream unknowingly reflected a distorted face of one of his own buried desires—and i think he couldn’t accept that.
The Corinthian even calls dream out for it at the serial convention (even though he's advocating for murder) he's also jabbing at Dream's unwillingness to show emotional vulnerability and the cage he's built around himself.
Corinthian: Or you might actually feel something.
The dream the Corinthian knows he always cared exceptionally little for humans save for a select few, so what remains is this. Dream might've cared for the Corinthian, but he would unmake him, his prized creation, not for any moral justice, not for a personal slight, but for his rules and nothing else.
For the corinthian, who has spent years upon years upon years with his lord, fighting in his wars, chasing after his approval, pouring every ounce of love and loyalty to him—it stings.
And then there's this scene.
Dream: You're right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you. But I created you poorly then.
This is the Corinthian, knowing he is about to die, spilling his frustration and spite to his creator for maybe the first and last time and trying, desperately, to make dream understand that none of this is fair (it's never been, for either of them. It's been the function and nothing else for an eternity but they could be happy.)
This is Dream purposely misinterpreting the Corinthian in the way that is guaranteed to hurt the him the most. Dream, with a writer's indifference, reduces the Corinthian's complicated desperate desire for freedom, rebellion, and his creator's love to his typo. Like a character’s grievance towards their writer, like a man’s outrage towards their god, Dream decides not to deign the corinthian with even the right to call his treason his own. He will not even let him have that bit of agency. No, Dream made the Corinthian wrong.
And then Boyd Holbrook does a phenomenal piece of acting here—he knows how to play evil and charming so well but the Corinthian’s vulnerability is so starkly on display it feels like a knife.
And when you imagine he is about to burst into bloody tears and anguished final words, this is how it ends: they leave each other cruel and jagged, because the corinthian will not end pathetic and he will have the last word.
The Corinthian: I am only sorry I won’t be here to see Rose Walker do the same to you.
The first Corinthian never gets a happy ending.
I don’t think there’s any universe where he doesn’t bite more than he’s allowed to and there is no world where he can really be forgiven. As there is no universe where Morpheus Dream does not stubbornly tie himself to his function and hurt himself and those around him with his pride.
In objectification and the inability to change, they exist as wretched mirrors of each other: The first Corinthian, sick of his function and executed for abandoning it, and Dream, unendurably tired, taking his sister's hand in his when he can no longer bear to perform his duty.
#sandman spoilers#this is literally just me going on a long winded and poorly organized tangent 😭#the sandman#the corinthian#dream of the endless#corintheus#character analysis#musings#long post
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The Informant
[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]
Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3
Summary: So, Anakin found out that you informed on him and Padmé at the Temple, leading to the end of his romance? Oh, your mistake. Just wait until he barges into your quarters to settle the score fairly.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | brutal smut | hate sex | angst | mirror sex | slapping | reader's serious injury during sex (head smashed against the mirror) | blood | PiV unprotected | hair pulling | cursing | degradation | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | reader is toxic af | no comfort | no aftercare
Author note: Yes, I haven't written many warnings before, but I consider this story to be one of my favorites that I've written. I've edited it many times - today I'm sharing it in a completely different form than it was meant to be, and it was supposed to be much darker. However, I don't want any content drama- I'm coming back after a long break and I want peace, so I assure you that every brutal move described in this story is motivated by immense sexual frustration on BOTH sides.
Word Count: 3,5k
Anakin stood behind the corner when you were selling him. He was there, gazing at your face, which seemed to be proud of itself and could barely restrain its foolish grin because you thought you were executing a perfect plan.
"General… Unfortunately, they were there again, together… I want the best for Master Skywalker, and I can't help but be concerned that perhaps he puts… THOSE feelings above the gravity of the mission..." you spoke to Kenobi with that artificially emphasized solemnity from beneath which protruded the most insidious idea.
Anakin clenched his fists, struggling to listen to your report deliberately designed to undermine him.
He didn't know you had seen him with Padme.
You didn't know he had seen you when you were informing.
For a while, you were entangled in blissful ignorance, but soon everything was about to end in the worst possible way.
.................................................................................................................
Weeks had passed since that incident, weeks during which Anakin ceased to be himself towards you - yet he had no intention of telling you why.
In the first days, your training sessions became more intense - when you fell, he wouldn't lend you a hand, and when you took a hit too hard, he had no intention of apologizing, and your days didn't end with a smile he used to give you.
You were sure that maybe he had worse days, perhaps the Council was giving him a hard time… There was also another option that you considered, and although you couldn't say it out loud - you counted on it the most.
Troubles with Padmé.
Your unhealthy desire to take the place of that woman overshadowed your common sense, and you convinced yourself of it day by day, implementing increasingly risky and far-reaching ideas into your life. Your latest one was soon to show its effects- it was about to explode when early this morning, you learned that the senator you despised had left the Order's gates.
The relationship between Anakin and Padmé had come to an end, and you were glowing.
On that day, you didn't encounter Anakin in the Temple. Your usual training took place with Kenobi instead, and although the older Jedi tried not to convey any negative emotions that day, you felt a crisis atmosphere in the air.
You didn't know the details and were unsure of what exactly was happening. In the morning, you questioned your friendly, usually well-informed guards if they knew where your Master might be, but each person you asked seemed to have the same rehearsed version they were allowed to share.
Were the details crucial to you? Probably not, as the only thing that mattered to you was to sense the right moment to implement your next plan. A plan titled: a caring, concerned Padawan who gets what she wants.
As you returned to your quarters in the evening, the corridors seemed darker than usual.
With no significant missions left for the day, you had lingered a bit too long in the cantina, and it would be a lie to say that during your time there, you hadn't thought about Anakin.
Where he was, what he was doing, what he was feeling…
But what did his feelings truly mean to you, when your hands reached for the knife that, though invisible, stabbed Anakin straight in the heart?
You didn't know yourself, but ironically, you were certain that the pain that would accompany your achievement would be swept under the rug.
At this hour, you passed no one in the corridors- the atmosphere was so chilly that you instinctively quickened your pace to reach your quarters as soon as possible, to freshen up and forget all the tension.
The doors, which you always had to unlock first, turned out to be unlocked- you probably forgot to do so the last time you left your place, and knowing your absent-mindedness well, you didn't dwell on it too much, simply closing them behind you and shedding your outerwear without hesitation as you made your way to the bathroom.
Though you felt like you were shining, you weren't shining at all.
When you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you focused on the dark circles under your tired eyes, and your hair was a mess. So, you reached for the comb and painstakingly untangled each strand of your hair, helping yourself with your fingers.
Finally feeling that your hair was suitable for a neat ponytail, you grabbed the nearest hair tie within your reach and tied your hair back enough so it wouldn't bother you while washing your face.
The first splash of water was a relief for your face, but before the water reached the temperature you expected, the clogged sink managed to fill halfway with water.
However, this didn't stop you from finally being able to apply your favorite cleansing gel to your face and wash away the dirt from the whole day.
Sudden pain.
Sudden pain stole your senses as you bent down under the running water.
Instinctively, you grabbed onto the porcelain countertop when you choked on the water - not from a single drop, not from a stream accidentally spraying into your nostrils.
Your face submerged in the water standing in the sink, and there was a hand on your neck that didn't belong to you.
For a moment, you felt like you were in nightmares, which, although rare, when they did occur, manifested in their most intense form.
You thought someone or something was using the Force on you, but the touch squeezing your throat was real. Desperately, you gasped for air as the mysterious hand impulsively pulled your face out of the water, and when your lashes were finally free of water, the answer to all your questions was found in the mirror.
"M-master…?" you mumbled with a muffled voice, feeling water rushing into your sinuses.
Anakin stood behind you, his face practically devoid of any emotion, which probably scared you the most in this picture. His eyes, with dilated pupils that seemed darker than ever, stared at your reflection in the mirror lifelessly and without a hint of empathy.
"What do you want to happen next?" he asked in a cold, hoarse voice.
"Master, I think I don't underst…"
"I'm asking clearly. What do you want to happen next?" he interrupted, sensing that you were playing dumb by responding this way to his words.
"I… I… Really…" you started to stammer, lowering your gaze from his reflection in the mirror, but he was quicker to interrupt you again.
You felt the strong grip of his second, mechanical hand on your shoulder as he turned you towards him, so that you leaned back against the sink, and your face, though much lower due to your difference in height, was inches away from his face.
"You know what happened. No one had to tell you. You know she's gone, and you know who's behind it." he continued, his hand that was previously on your throat now gripping your chin.
"Master, I really don't…" you began, wincing in pain as his hand tightened almost to the point of bruising on your chin.
"You damn well know who… And I damn well know who… All I want is to hear it from you." he added through gritted teeth, and at that moment, you felt a hatred unlike any you had ever felt before - not even when facing the worst, hostile scum on missions.
"I… I…"
"Exactly. You. You. And if something had tempted me earlier… I would have been done with you long ago, but I decided to wait, maybe nothing would happen, and I'd ruin your life…" Skywalker continued with deadly seriousness, and you realized how utterly hopeless your situation was.
"Anakin… I didn't want to! I didn't want it to happen this way! I…" you could have continued shouting, if Anakin's finger hadn't found its way in a silencing gesture over your lips.
"This way… Funny. Funny, because you did. You wanted it to happen, but according to your delusional script." Anakin spoke, and you preferred to stay silent. You listened and wished the ground would swallow you whole, most of all, terrified by the realization that everything he said was true.
"And you know, delusional scripts of filthy bitches like you rarely come true, don't they?" he continued, holding onto his terrifyingly serious tone.
Overwhelmed by shock, all you could manage was a numb nod of disapproval - you couldn't squeeze out a single word, and Anakin didn't even expect you to.
"Let's consider, though… How it would look in your little, stupid head…" he added after a moment, lowering his hand from your chin, leaving your delicate skin reddened from the strong grip.
"Assuming I didn't see or hear what you did in the council, and I lived in blissful ignorance… You'd now play the hero and pretend in front of me that you have shreds of humanity left in you and want what's best for me, wouldn't you?"
"But… I didn't say that I…"
"And you didn't have to. Just thinking it was enough, wasn't it?" Anakin folded his arms across his chest as he spoke these words, and you would be inclined to admit that beneath his controlled demeanor, he seemed on the verge of exploding at any moment.
You wanted to run away, but you couldn't.
You wanted to defend yourself, but you had nothing to defend yourself with.
You wanted to speak, but you had no words.
"It's nice to ponder like this… 'What if'… But we're here and now, and you still haven't answered my first question..." Anakin continued, and upon hearing the mention of the question, you raised your gaze to look at him.
"What do you want to happen next?"
Skywalker left you in complete emptiness, posing the question once again. You felt so depleted that you had no idea what to expect - from him, from yourself, from everything.
Your heart rate quickened with each moment of silence, and this time, Anakin seemed genuinely eager for your response.
"Oh, don't bother. Especially since I know very well what you want to happen next." Barely had you processed your Master's words in your mind when two strong hands grabbed you at hip level and turned your figure back towards the mirror.
You leaned against the porcelain sink with your front while he stood behind you, just inches from your back, his gaze fixed on your figure in the mirror wild and filled with hatred.
"Do you know you've hurt me?" he asked after another moment of silence, placing his both large hands on either side of you, enclosing you.
"And you know it's going to hurt?" he added shortly after, not giving you time to respond, assuming you knew well what you had done.
"I know." you answered with a trembling voice, not really aware of which of the two questions you subconsciously answered to him.
"Good." he replied with a terrifyingly calm voice, then you heard the clinking of the belt from behind, sending shivers down your spine.
"Bend over." he growled, and you did as he commanded, trying to sneak glances at him in the mirror opposite.
"Give me that." he added after a moment, pointing towards the bandage scissors lying closer within your reach, and you obediently handed them to him.
Anakin snatched the scissors from your trembling hand and without further hesitation, swiftly cut your thin jumpsuit at the waistline with one quick motion, without considering whether it would injure your skin. You hissed sharply as you felt the blunt blade irritating your skin, and just a few seconds later, a shallow, bleeding cut on your skin could be seen from the hole.
He had no interest in bothering with the zipper on your jumpsuit when he had a sharp tool at his disposal. The material split precisely at the cut, allowing him to tear it further and rip it around the circumference, so Skywalker didn't wait any longer. He yanked on the exposed fabric, and when he could afford it, he began to pull down the lower part of your torn jumpsuit.
"You fuckin' slut…" he muttered when he saw that the part of the material he was pulling down revealed your bare ass without any underwear. You had your head bowed down, but upon hearing his words and being aware of what was happening, you smiled to yourself at the corner of your mouth.
Your overly confident, slutty smile quickly vanished from your face as you opened your mouth in shock when Anakin entered you without warning - so quickly and desperately that part of the carelessly pulled-down fabric of your jumpsuit irritated his balls as he tried to bottom out.
"Fuck…" he muttered through clenched teeth as you let out a long, dull moan.
From his throat emanated a range of sounds that you had never heard before - even before he fully filled you, his breath was heavy and distinctly audible, but it was only now that you could hear the frustration pouring out of his vocal cords.
His gaze in the mirror, aiming straight into your eyes, was both humiliating and arousing.
You wanted it, and you couldn't hide it.
If anyone was to destroy you after the failure of your plans, it was him - Anakin Skywalker. The man who was currently destroying you in the way you had dreamed of.
"Anakin!" you yelled, your voice growing increasingly breathless by the second as he began to rhythmically pound into you.
"What do you want? Should I go harder??" he grunted, gripping your hips tightly, occasionally tugging down on the shreds of your jumpsuit material that bunched up from his movements in frustration.
He initiated it sloppily and desperately - without any preparation, standing behind you in his black robes, his cock protruding from the unbuttoned fly, teasing you with every dangling stride.
Hopelessly, you nodded in agreement to his words, slowly allowing yourself to be completely consumed by the sensation he was giving you, but your lack of a clear response only fueled his frustration further.
"Stop nodding and speak. I want to hear it." he demanded in a louder tone, his teeth almost constantly clenched.
"I want… I want it harder…" you mumbled, unaware that you had just revealed to Anakin what he feared most - pleasure from what he was doing to you.
He didn't want pleasure - he wanted a lesson that you would remember for the rest of your life - a lesson that would engrave into your mind that those who live by the sword, die by the sword.
"You want it harder, you'll fucking get it harder." he whispered gruffly into your ear just before he began to thrust into you with all his length.
With each forceful thrust, his partially exposed lower abdomen collided with the tattered fabric of your jumpsuit top, and with each deep penetration and withdrawal, you screamed in ecstasy. He wanted to see how he filled you inch by inch, so at one point, he hiked up part of his robe and looked down, proud of depriving you of your sanity.
"You fucking wanted this, huh? You fucking wanted this!" he grunted, instinctively quickening his movements, causing your body to arch to the point where the torn seams of your jumpsuit began to give way.
When your eyes met again in the mirror, Skywalker couldn't resist and grabbed your tied-up hair with one of his hands that wasn't occupied with your hips. As you felt the intense tug, something inside you snapped – you didn't want to fight Anakin, but instinctively, you raised one of your hands, previously resting on the sink, and without knowing where you were aiming, you struck him in the neck.
"Whoa… woah… What? Don't like that anymore? What were you trying to do? Go on!" he paused his movements for a moment, holding onto the spot where you hit him for a few seconds before slowly continuing, leaving you completely disoriented and unsure how to explain.
"Come on, slap me! Slap me!" he continued in a terrifyingly excited tone, and the slower he made his movements, waiting for your reaction, the more he motivated you to fulfill his demand.
You swung your open hand towards his face, but from the angle you were in, you couldn't do it with force, and your hand barely touched and grazed his cheek.
"I said slap me, not grab me! Come on, try again, show me what you've go..." he interrupted as you made a second attempt, managing to slap him with an open hand to the face in the manner he expected. Initially, he fell silent in surprise, then let out a psychopathic laugh.
"Was that so hard, bitch?" he muttered through laughter, not giving you a chance to respond, completely disconnecting you from your senses as he began to fuck you with a speed your body couldn't handle.
You bounced off him like a lifeless ragdoll as he used you like a fleshlight. Your babbling and moans were pathetic and unintelligible- clearly showcasing to Anakin how empty-headed you were at that moment, and he seemed newly recharged, ready to drain every last bit of energy from you.
Both of you screamed, the mirror fogging up from your aggressive breaths, and your hands trembled, struggling to find stability on the porcelain sink. You saw sweat flooding him, his curly locks sticking to his forehead, framing his wild eyes, whose beautiful blue irises were barely noticeable with his dilated pupils. You saw the trace of your small handprint on his cheek, but the more aggressive thrusts you took, the blurrier your vision became.
"An… Anakin… I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"
Sudden impact.
A sudden impact momentarily cut you off from the world, and you began to see stars. Not from a spectacular orgasm, not from pleasure. His mechanical hand pushed the back of your head towards the mirror as your forehead shattered it into pieces, creating a spiderweb of glass adorned with your fresh blood.
Perhaps both of you were shocked at that moment, so Anakin slowed his movements, but he had no intention of stopping, wide-eyed as he saw you disoriented and bloodied in the reflection of the shattered mirror.
Seeing yourself, you felt like screaming, but you felt a hybrid of physical pain and the beginnings of an orgasm that robbed you of your voice. While adrenaline surged in Anakin to a dangerous level, he began to tremble. He began to pulse inside you, feeling on the brink of his own orgasm even amidst the awareness that he might have seriously injured you.
"M-master… I think… I think I'm bleeding." he heard your words as if through a fog, hearing only the buzzing in his own head signaling that he was about to climax.
Your elbows buckled beneath you as his weight involuntarily pressed down on your body, and Anakin began to gasp chaotically with his head on your shoulder as his movements became erratic, and his warm seed filled you from within.
You groaned with him, unsure if it was from pain or from finding yourself on the edge but not even attempting to explain it to yourself. Skywalker froze inside you for a moment, still pulsating, fearing that if he pulled out, his unstable trembling knees would give way under him, so he breathed warm breaths on your neck, unable to utter a word.
As soon as he pulled out, and you lost the support on his silhouette, you slid down, banging your knees against the cabinet under the sink and landed half-sitting on the floor.
You saw Anakin tripled, looking up at him with tears-filled eyes as he stood, his hands trembling against the edges of the sink, and gazed at you with a hint of fear in his eyes. But as Padme returned to his mind, fear subsided, and he saw a successful revenge. He saw a conquest that wanted to be conquered, and he achieved it in the most unexpected way - unexpected even for himself.
"Anakin…" you whispered with a broken voice, smudging the blood flowing down your eyebrow with the tip of your finger, and he just watched, at a loss for words.
"It hurts… Can you…"
"I warned you it would hurt." he interrupted with a hoarse, dark voice as he fastened his belt and adjusted his clothes, clearly preparing to leave.
Initially, he intended to leave without a word, took a few steps, casting a final glance at the shattered mirror, but paused at the door upon hearing your sobs.
"Grab a towel when you go to the Med Bay. Nobody wants a mess." he uttered in a cold tone without even making eye contact with you, then tossed you one hanging on the nearest hanger.
"Tomorrow morning, you're expected at training. I don't care what condition you're in. Alive or barely alive." he added before disappearing and slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone with your worries.
You sat there, wounded and exhausted. Bruised and broken.
Your Master - Anakin Skywalker - destroyed you, and you'll thank him for it.
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Wanted - Hobie Brown x Black Fem Reader
No minors, 18+ only
Tw: Angst, Rough Sex, Dirty talk, dick piercing, cheating
You rubbed your eyes as you blankly stared at your work screen, the days bleeding into weeks–into months as life went on. Relationships are hard; bearing your soul to another person and allowing them to see the most authentic version of you is scary, downright nerve wracking. Pulling your locs into a loose bun as you doubled down on your report that was due in the morning.
It’s been days since you last saw Hobie. One moment, the two of you were at a concert, enjoying yourselves and the next moment, he was gone in a blink and you couldn't help the nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach, unable to hold anything down. ‘It’s fine—he does this all the time, I don’t know why it feels so painful this time.’ But you knew why; exactly two months ago, Hobie and you were relaxing in his apartment—he finally had a day where the corrupt government wasn't planning anything too inferious. You watched him strum his guitar, humming to himself.
“What’s going on in your head, pretty girl?” He rasped as he lazily glanced over, the weed making his eyes slightly closed, mirroring your expression. “Nothing, just relaxing.” A lie. You loved the Spiderman in front of you, you wanted nothing more than him to reciprocate your feelings, but he didn’t like conformity and labels—which made life with him difficult. Hobie and you were very touchy with each other, lingering hands and stares were common and talking freely about past sexual conquests was a staple in any conversation. Then that’s where the lines between friends began to blur.
You couldn’t deny your feelings for the self proclaimed anarchist, he knew you from the inside out and backwards, which made it harder to go see when he was around. A cute little blond, chilling on his bean bag and greeting you like you were an old friend. “Hey, this is Gwenie, Miguel just brought her in.” Your world shattered instantly, Hobie looked at her as if she had painted the stars. You’ve known Hobie for years, earning his trust and being exposed to deep, personal things, which made it a slap in the face, especially when Gwen knew about their inside jokes.“Love, you’re spacing out again,” Hobie snapped his fingers,”I said, what are you doing this weekend? I asked Miguel to give me a weekend off and wanted to spend time with my favorite girl.” You snorted, rolling your eyes as you hit the bong, blowing smoking into the room as you leaned your head back. “Going on a date with a coworker.”
Hobie paused, narrowing his eyes as if you had grown a third head. “A date?” “Yeah, we’ve been talking for a moment,nothing too serious.” His blood began to burn, nodding his head as he stared blankly at the wall. “Nothing serious, ay? What about us-” “About what? We fuck, we smoke, that’s really about it. We barely hangout, I kinda chalked us to be friends with benefits, but you don’t like labels nor conformity.” You pushed yourself off the bag as you grabbed your bag, slipping on your sandals. “Love, where are you going? You gonna leave this? Be a coward and run away?” You shrugged your shoulders, nodding your head. “Yeah, I am because I don’t like my time being wasted and that's what you’re doing. Hobie–fuck, I think I may love you and I don’t want to be another notch in your bed frame. You don’t value me as a friend, why does Gwen know our inside jokes? You only call when she’s busy, it’s like I became a backup to her and it’s not fair to me.”
Fast forward two months, Hobie seemingly ignored your confession and acted like nothing happened, you weren’t going to bring it up, so life continued on. It just felt like a massive wall between you, hangouts became even more rarer and as if you lost your best friend overnight. Eric, your coworker, he’s fun, safe, and don’t get it twisted, you like him, but he could be a little boring at times. “Babe, there’s an event going on tomorrow night at the science museum, underneath the stars while being able to observe natural history.” Your eye twitched, sighing softly before you flashed the fakest smile. “Yeah, sounds great, let me check my calendar.” Spray Painting Session w/ Hobie. The last time you and Hobie hung out, it ended early by him stepping away for a smoke break and never returning. Did you really want to risk that, because things were awkward and you tried to address it, but he was adamant about not hearing you out, playing the “I’m busy, gotta go" card.
“Sure, I have to go shopping for a decent dress after this email.”
You sighed as you admired your in the mirror, donning this slick, elegant black little number, pulling your locs to the side. Eric has already left, claiming that his manager needed his expertise on some stuff. “Dressed up for me?” You scoffed at the familiar voice, continuing to blend in your foundation. “Why you getting dressy, we’re only spray-painting-” “Hobart, I’m going to a private event tonight with Eric.” Hobie watched you through the mirror, locking his jaw–his hands grazing the backrest. “Not the government name, must be serious then. Why you choosing that tosser over me? What so great about him?” Hobie watched as you stepped away, slipping into elegant velvet heels. “He’s my boyfriend and I want to support him, is that a difficult concept for you to wrap your head around.” Hobie clicked his tongue, sprawling out onto the silk sheets, much to your annoyance.
“It’s not, but I don’t appreciate my girl isolating me for some git. “ Hobie narrowed his eyes at your appearance. You looked absolutely stunning, there was no doubt in his mind, but this? Yeah, this was supposed to be meant for him only. “‘Your girl?’ That’s funny, I didn’t know that I was already spoken for, Hobie, look–you lost your chance, I confessed my feelings for you and you proceeded to ignore it, so I don’t appreciate being treated like some dog.” Brushing out a few winkles, you finished with the final touches as you grabbed your purse. “Love, you know I never meant to make you feel lesser, but labels-” “You hate labels! You hate consistency! I get it, but you actively led me on! The touches, the stolen kisses–I’ve cleaned your wounds, waited on hands and knees for you! What more do you want from me, I’ve given everything that I can.”
Hobie saw a broken girl in front of him, seeing the exhaustion in your eyes as he tried to come up with something–anything, scoffing you walked away, grabbing your keys as you headed out the door. He sighed, slipping through the window, the shadows masking his figure as you stepped out and met Eric outside. "Oh wow, darling, you look absolutely stunning.” Eric smiled as he twirled you around, Hobie’s fists clenching in jealousy at the site of the couple. He watched as Eric’s hands traveled down your back, pulling you closer to him. “Aw, thank you, I-” Eric’s phone ranged, much to your annoyance as he flashed a pathetic smile as he stepped away. “Sir, we’re about to the event. No sir, but I would-okay. Okay, I’ll finish those tests tonight.”
“Eric, you promised, We never get to do things anymore.” Crossing your arms over your chest as Eric kissed your temple,” It’s frustrating to cancel dates over your boss, why can’t he run tests and let you enjoy the night off?” You could feel tears swelling underneath your eyes as you sighed, pulling away from him. Your feelings for Eric were different from Hobie’s, but to be let down again, maybe you were destined to be alone. “Just text me when you get home.”
This gnawing feeling only grew with every step, close to tears as you pulled off of your heels. You sighed as you leaned against the stainless steel wall, paying no mind when Hobie walked in. “Y/N” “Shut up, please, just hush.” He scoffed as he towered over you, grabbing your chin as he made you look into his eyes. “Listen, love, I know you’re frustrated, but you don’t have to give me lip. I’m trying to be here for you.” Your blood began to flash red hot as you pushed him away, jabbing your fresh set into his chest. “Why now? You haven’t been here for months! Is it because you want to get your dick wet?!”
“No, it’s not, for fuck’s sake, I miss you alot, you make everything okay when I’m going through tough shit, but I also tend to push my friends away. Y/N, everything with the spider society, I couldn’t help, but shut you out, you aren’t apart of it and it wasn’t right of me, but you fell in love with that git and just pushed me away. You flaked out on me because of what? Him.” Hobie was absolutely right, you weren’t even trying to give an excuse. Jealousy was a twisted emotion, clouding your judgment to the point where there was nothing that he could say to change your mind. “Because he’s my boyfriend and you clearly didn’t want me, I wasn’t going to act like a puppy, so I can still have your friendship. I’m sorry, I can’t function that way.”
Hobie’s watch began to beep, groaning as Miguel’s face popped up. He shut off the watch with no regrets as the elevator’s doors opened. Storming to your apartment with him hot on your heels. “I never not wanted you! I thought that it was obvious when we slept together, do you think I sleep around town, inviting anyone into my bed?” You glared at him as he flopped onto your bed, his eyes watching you through the vanity mirror. “But it didn’t stop you flirting with girls right in front of me.” He watched you debeautify yourself, the dark circles underneath your eyes becoming more apparent. You two remained in silence as you began to strip down, revealing the deep emerald lace thong. “You wore that for him and he still left? The boy is so ungrateful,” Hobie pushed himself off the bed as he grasped your hips, pulling you flush against him,”Having the most beautiful little thing in his bed and not doing a damn thing with you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as his rough hand traced along your body, tugging at the thin material as his other hand grazed your collarbone. Snapping out of your trance, you pushed him away, immediately slipping on a robe. “Yeah no, you’re done, get out. I’m not cheating on Eric with you.” “Why are you pushing me away so much? You clearly want me and I want you, what’s so difficult about that?” “Because Hobie, I want you a boyfriend, I love you and I don’t want anyone else, but you don’t like labels, exclusivity is hard for you-” “Bullshit, it’s not hard, I just didn't want my old flings, you want to know why? They weren’t you, just how Gwen and I are close, I don’t want her because I knew you were jealous of her. She may know some of our inside jokes, but she doesn’t have what you have.” Hobie pulled you onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you as if you could break free from his grasp.
“Y/N, we have history together and it’s frustrating to see this wedge between us, it’s hard coming home and knowing that you won’t be there, eating my snacks and being menace to me.” He fondly smiled at your giggle, pulling you closer to him. “I love you, if I wasn’t being clear, Y/N, I know you don’t love Eric, he’s obviously a distraction. Come back to me, let me show you why it’s worth it.” Your breath hitched as the palm of his hand trailed upwards,tugging lighty at the thin piece of fabric. His warm breath fanned against your throat, leaving small kisses starting the base trailing towards your jaw. “Darling…” “Hobie, what about-” You winced at the sharp pain, you could feel his eyes staring into your fiber of yourself. “Don’t speak about him, it’s just us, princess.”
Hobie stepped out of the bed, pulling off his studded jacket and shirt. He bore a shit-eating grin, knowing you were just as excited as him, shaking like a chihuahua. He pulled you towards the edge by your ankle, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses down your leg. “Take it off, show me your tits, sweet cheeks.” Hobie groaned as you tossed your robe to the side, taking in everything. Gasping as his rough hand immediately latched onto your boobs, pinching and twisting your nipples being mindful of your nipple piercings.
“H-Hobie, please-” He gave you a warning look as he bent down, taking one of the pierced buds in mouth, rolling it around as he relished in your cries. It’s been too long and he knew Eric wasn’t fucking you right. He groaned as he felt you rub against his bulge, your legs were wrapped around his waist as if he was going to vanish into thin air. “Nah, princess, this is about you, don’t worry about me.” Hobie ripped off your thong with ease, tossing the shredded fabric to the side.
You hid your face in the plush pillows as he rubbed your clit with no mercy, just the way you like it—much to his annoyance. His hands tangled in your locs, yanking your head up. “None of that hiding shit, let me hear you.” He grabbed your hip with his free hand, pushing two fingers in, immediately curling upwards as you cried out. “Words, princess, you miss my fingers? You squeezing me like a vice.” He pushed your limits as he nipped and sucked at your neck, relishing in your cries.You pulled him towards your lips by his wicks, sloppily making out as you reached his belt, tugging at his spiked belt. “My fucked out little whore, god I missed this look on you.” Hobie has pulled your hair back, shoving his drenched fingers down your throat. He could see the lust in your eyes because he knew that cornball wasn’t satisfying you.
Meanwhile Eric raced home, rushing through the lab results, uncaring if they were accurate or even legible, he just needed to get back to you as soon as possible. He patiently waited to be let in, he couldn’t wait for the day that he moved in with you, the buzzing in and then waiting seemed stupid to him. He waited patiently, humming softly as time went on. “Eric? What are you doing down here? I thought I could hear you and whats her name.” One of your neighbors gave him a puzzled look, letting him inside of the building. “Oh no, I had some last minute business at the lab, I’ve been there for awhile now.”
“A fucking cock whore,”Hobie brutally fucked your throat as you leaned off the bed, pinching your nipples,”You love this cock, don’t you?” Bobbing your head as he reached further down your throat. He watched as your eyes rolled back, jaw going slack. “You ain’t passing out on me?” “No..’m not passin’” You weakly sat up, trying to catch your breath, but not before being pushed down onto your silk sheets. “Good, because I’m not done yet.” With no remorse, he pushed inside of your pussy, setting a brutal pace as you screamed into your pillows, his prince albert piercing was way too overwhelming. “Fuck me, creaming on my cock this fast, oh I know he wasn’t fucking you properly.” You whined as he continued to fuck you with no hestation, gripping your thighs as subconsciously you knew that you would be marked by him.
His other hand reached in, furiously rubbing your clit, trying to extract another orgasm from you. “Fuck, your pussy was meant for me, only me that can fuck you so good, aint that right?” He pulled your head back, smirking at your tears. “Y-Yeah!” “Wasted two months of my time, fucking some limp dick, lanky kid, but this pussy? It belongs to me.” Hobie didn’t care about the neighbors banging on the walls, when he was fucking the girl of his dreams. “Yes, fuck! It belongs to you, only you!” Babbling as you couldn;t form a coherent thought, he slapped your tits, cursing as he felt your pussy pulse around his sensitive cock.
He could feel his balls tightening as he knew you were about to come, your moans only grew louder. “Come on, come on this cock.” Sobbing as you tried to slip from his grasp, the pleasure becoming borderline painful, but Hobie wasn’t going for that. “Come now or you don’t all.” He growled in your ear as you squirted across the sheets, your tired body trembling uncontrollably. He grunted, slamming into you, his lower half completely drenched, cursing as his warm cum coated your walls. Landing into the silk pillows face first as your arms went, Hobie plucked a plug from your nightstand, making sure you wouldn’t waste his cum. “Told you were mine, cut the bullshit labels and just be committed to one another.” He pulled you onto his chest as he drew circles onto your bare back. Hobie noticed a picture frame of you and Eric, smiling and he was kissing your cheek, webbing it to a random wall. He could finally be at ease, knowing that limp dick wasn’t going to be around for much longer.
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Yandere Simulator.
(accordingly, inspired by the game Yandere Simulator)
Pairing: Ghost/You, Price/You, Gaz/You,Soap/You, Graves/You, Konig/You, Alejandro/You, Rudy/You, Horangi/You. Valeria/You. (I assume that this is not all, since the idea is taken from the Yandere Simulator, in the harem version).
Warning: College, city and certain places and people are fictitious, the education system is fictitious, OOC is possible,My personal headcannons and character vision.Different ages, mention yandere,mentioning mental problems, etc.there may be mistakes in words, English is not my first language.
Summary: Inspired by the game Yandere simulator, where you are the main character, a simple girl in in which different guys with different types and characters are interested, and of course, there is Yandere.
you can express your opinion :)
1 part.
You were born into a simple, extremely ordinary family. Your father was a banker, walking around in his favorite stereotypical outfit: a strict gray suit and a tie, as an indicator of masculinity. Every morning, Mrs. Attwoord, getting up early, cooked breakfast, her children's favorite scrambled eggs and sandwiches, collected breakfast and, like a loving housewife wife, escorted her husband to work, leaving an imperceptible trace of a kiss on his cheek, and carefully tying his tie with her elegant fingers. Next comes the younger brother, the "heir", as his grandmother affectionately calls him, although you sincerely do not understand it: what to inherit? Your father has no company, no business, no fancy house, what can the son of a simple bank employee inherit? But it's not the point that matters. Next, after her brother, the middle daughter Eliza wakes up- an exceptional beauty, with glossy wheat hair, a doll's face- almost a copy of her mother.Eliza was a promising dancer, but she was not a good singer, but she danced perfectly, performing a light bunch of moves to some loud song at every party. Then, at the very end, you woke up.
Usually, it was the last ring of the alarm clock, which you heard through the veil of sleep, not wanting to miss the outcome of the battle between Harry Potter and some fairies. But your mother's shriek, tired of trying to wake you up, let out a loud shriek, forcing you to jump up from your seat and rush to the bathroom, showering and washing up at speed.Standing at the mirror and looking at your exhausted eyes, your hands reached for a small cosmetic bag and your favorite concealer, which, as you hoped, would hide not only the sins, but also the dark bags under your eyes. Next was eyebrow gel and lip gloss - you didn't have much time to put on makeup, and you didn't see much point in it, because you weren't going on a date. In terms of clothing, your choice fell on a skirt-shorts in a large pleated dark blue color, beige T-shirt, which for convenience you tucked into the skirt, a light cardigan for warmth, and complemented the image of black capron tights, which at least somehow but added to the image of completeness. And on your feet you left comfortable sneakers.
After stuffing notebooks and stationery, house keys, lipstick, hairbrush, and perhaps a sketchbook into her backpack, the girl quickly went down to the first floor, grabbed a sandwich from the table, and hurried out of the house, to the excited cry of her mother: "Honey! You forgot your breakfast!"
But the bus, you know, won't wait for you to finish, so you sped up and headed for the bus stop, but when you saw the damn bus in the distance, you immediately broke into a sprint, running like a marathon runner and mentally cursing.
"If you leave now, asshole, I'll put a curse on you!"
And thank God, as if hearing your pleas (curses), the driver waited for the girl in distress. Almost jumping into the bus, skipping the steps, you plopped down on the only free seat and relaxed exhaled, leaning back on the back of the uncomfortable seat. A couple of stops later, leaving the packed bus, or rather, the mechanical inferno, the gates of the college appeared before your eyes. The college was a historic building that people had equipped as a "place of knowledge". Antique patterns, massive doors made of pure wood, high ceilings - all this looked really intimidating and mesmerizing. Passing the gate, you looked at the students with interest: here were girls in brightly colored dresses excitedly babbling about something, here was a group of guys, six people laughing, and here were just loners walking towards the building with headphones in their ears. There were huge trees growing on the college grounds: pine trees, mighty oaks, and even flowers. The place was indeed beautiful. But soon after you took your eyes off the beauty of the place, you noticed that there was already five minutes of class going on! As you rushed into the building, you slammed into someone's strong chest. When you looked up, trying to catch your breath from a short jog, you saw a guy, tall, sturdy, and wearing a half-face mask, which was a little weird, because it wasn't quarantine period or anything. Well, maybe it's an image of him, you thought. Realizing you've been staring at each other for a few moments, you mumble.
-Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there.
You didn't? That's the stupidest excuse ever, to be honest, because it's hard not to notice a big guy like that. The guy nodded, but didn't answer, and, feeling rather awkward, you threw another "sorry" and rushed further into the classroom. And good thing the teacher was late. Entering the classroom, you noticed a guy who sat with an improvised slingshot in his hands, made of two pencils and a rubber band. Oh, yes, you know this jerk - John MacTavish, a Scottish guy, explosive in character, but at the same time the soul of the company and incredibly cute and dorky guy. Noticing you he waved his hand, removing his backpack from its place and beckoning you over. Shaking your head, you quickly climb up to the top and plop down on the seat next to him, pulling out a space-print notebook and a couple of pens.
-What have you got there? When did you start liking Cosmos?- John asked with interest.
-I borrowed a couple of notebooks from Eliza,-you said, sighing, and put your elbow on the table, propping your head on your hand and staring at John, who was fastening erasers and pens with little rubber bands.
-What are you doing?
-Sword-with a serious face John answered, causing you to raise an eyebrow and ask: "A sword?"
-Yeah, the guy pulled out a little man made of erasers from his pencil case and happily demonstrated it to you.
-God, John...-a slight laugh escaped your lips.
#call of duty#captain price#gaz cod#ghost cod#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#poly tf141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#tf 141 x reader#Au#school au#college au#phillip graves#yandere ghost#simon riley x reader#simon riley#soap x reader#soap cod#john mactavish#valeria cod
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Hi there, I got started with ttrpgs after dnd 5e came out so I don't have any personal experience or strong opinions about 4e. Would you be willing to share some of the things that were different in that version that you enjoyed?
So okay with the caveat that there isn't a single edition of D&D I don't enjoy to some extent, this isn't really a "list of reasons why D&D 4e is objectively better than any edition of D&D ever," but more like "list of features of D&D 4e where I feel it distinguishes itself from other editions":
As much as D&D has always been a combat-focused game, where characters usually have to at some point rely on violence, D&D 4e is the one edition where combat has felt the most tactically engaging and where there are sometimes genuinely tough tactical decisions to be made. Part of the beauty of D&D 4e's combat is down to a very simple fact: combat isn't quite as swingy as in other editions, where a couple of lucky rounds can either make or break the combat in the characters' favor. If you lose in D&D 4e it's usually not the result of a single bad turn, but multiple turns' worth of bad decision-making and bad luck. There's nearly always a way for players to turn around a combat that's going badly. While I also enjoy the extremely lethal and swingy editions of old on the macro level, combat in them isn't as tactically satisfying as in 4e to me (but on the flipside, combat being very quick and dirty is definitely a benefit of those systems).
I genuinely feel that it does class balance better than any other edition of D&D. Class balance has always been tough in D&D: you've either had artificial balancing like "start Magic-Users weak and have them advance slower, but once they survive to higher levels they become extremely strong," or just poorly thought out "I guess one of the Druid's class features is having an extra character that's a bear and almost as strong as a Fighter, and the Druid can summon more bears while turned into a bear." That isn't to say that it's perfect: some classes had their growing pains (Warlocks weren't great to begin with, Avengers were good but not great) and some classes did outshine others (I'm not sure if this was ever the consensus, but I always got the vibe from discussions that Fighters were probably the best Defender), but it was very hard to build a character who could overwhelm an entire party or play rocket tag while everyone else was still playing D&D.
Many of the additions and changes to the lore and cosmology of D&D were welcome to me. I liked reframing the cosmic conflict as gods vs elemental primordials, as it felt like a return to the Law vs Chaos conflict of old. I liked the idea of devils as corrupted angels, punished for deicide, which also made them a great mirror to demons that in 4e were technically corrupted elementals! It basically turned the Blood War into a dark reflection of the ongoing conflict between order and chaos (as represented by the gods and the primordials)
The Warlord is such an amazing class. It is genuinely my favorite thing to come out of 4e, and the fact that it was never brought into 5e is actually the worst thing the designers of 5e ever did, even though they explicitly promised the return of every class that had ever been featured in the first PHB of the game.
Of all the WotC D&Ds it had the simplest and most intuitive action economy. Standard, Move, Minor. You get one of each. Standard action can be traded in for a Move or Minor action. Move action can be turned in for a Minor action. It's hilarious to me how simple it is and how 5e in trying to simplify it further by making movement something you have every turn by default and making bonus actions a separate thing ended up making the action economy more complex with its various if: then statements about when you're allowed to use a specific bonus action and how sometimes a bonus action you've used can limit the actions you can take.
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My 5 Most Favorite Badass Middle Age & Older Ladies in various fandoms!
(because I realize they're a rare treasure that deserve some recognition)
Chrisjen Avasarala - The Expanse
The only politician I trust. Curses constantly and it's always glorious. Would have saved the solar system in five minutes if she wasn't surrounded by idiots and assholes. And a goddamn fashion icon.
Katarina Jones - 12 Monkeys
The best example of the duality of man. Like, Dr. Unethical Human Experimentation In Order to Create Time Travel and Save 7 Billion People but Actually Just One Person. Objectively The Worst. But also we all love her.
Toph Beifong - Legend of Korra
The Greatest Earthbender in the universe. Can still take upstart little dictators down a few pegs. Beats up the hero for training purposes... enjoys it a lot.
Mirror Universe Philippa Georgiou - Star Trek: Discovery
Evil. Genocidal dictator. No remorse. Unfortunately the alternate universe version of her dead adopted daughter is a goody two shoes. Typical.
Esme "Granny" Weatherwax - Discworld
I could try to describe her... or I could leave it to Sir Terry Pratchett himself:
"Witches are not by nature gregarious, at least with other witches, and they certainly don't have leaders. Granny Weatherwax was the most highly-regarded of the leaders they didn't have."
&
"Granny Weatherwax was not a good loser. From her point of view, losing was something that happened to other people."
&
Granny’s implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extended to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains.
&
We look to… the edges,' said Mistress Weatherwax. 'There’s a lot of edges, more than people know. Between life and death, this world and the next, night and day, right and wrong… an’ they need watchin’. We watch ‘em, we guard the sum of things. And we never ask for any reward. That’s important.
& finally
If anyone locked me in a dungeon, there'd be screams.
#chrisjen avasarala#katarina jones#toph beifong#philippa georgiou#granny weatherwax#the expanse#12 monkeys#atla#star trek#discovery#discworld#terapsina rambles
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Think About Me - (c.b)
Pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader
Warnings: maybe a swear word or two, angst to fluff
“But now that we’re done and it’s over
I bet you couldn’t believe
When you realized I’m harder to forget
Than I was to leave
I bet you think about me.”
“He asked about you the other day.” My eyes shot up from the computer screen at Kat’s words as we sat in my darkened living room. “Sam misses you too.”
“I don’t feel guilty.” Colby and I had been together for two years when he ended things. It had been another argument. Hateful words thrown at each other like sharpened daggers intended to kill. In the end, his excuse for the breakup was that our personalities clashed and we were just too different.
Now, months later, after removing myself completely from his life he still felt the need to ask Kat about my whereabouts or more importantly my current dating life. She did her best to stay neutral claiming we were both her friends but I knew it affected her being caught in the crossfire.
“Anyway, Sam can call me. I broke up with Colby. Not him.” Kat shrugged her shoulders and popped a few pieces of popcorn in her mouth. “What did he even ask this time?”
“If you were dating anyone.” Part of me wanted to believe that Colby felt guilty about how things ended between us. That was why he kept such close tabs on how I was doing but as weeks turned into months and he didn’t reach out I knew it was just his way of making sure I wasn’t moving on. That I was just as stuck as he was. “I love Colby but,” She paused waving her hand to swallow whatever she had eaten and flattened her palms out on the couch. “If he wants to talk to you, I’m sure you would answer.”
“You’re giving me too much credit, KitKat.” With a swift eye roll she throws a piece of popcorn at me and I chuckle lightheardly. As we go back to watching whatever show is playing on the television I know her words ring true; if Colby were to call me, I’d answer.
Fall had always been my favorite time of the year. Apple picking, pumpkin carving, and Halloween being some of my favorite pastimes. That’s when being with Colby had been the easiest. It was the constant feeling of putting that last puzzle piece into the puzzle. The arguments had subsided and our days were filled with laughter as both of us prepared for our favorite holiday.
“What are you and Colby going as?” Kat asked looking at the dress in the mirror that was pressed against her body as she twirled around in debate. “Sam and I were thinking of going as Alice and Mad Hatter.”
“That would be so cute!” My excitement quickly fizzled as I recalled Colby and I’s conversation from the day prior. “Colby suggested not doing couple costumes this year. Which is weird because he seemed so excited about it two weeks ago.” Kat’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion and the dress in her hands is forgotten.
“But Colby loves couples costumes. He and Amber did matching costumes the year before you two got together and they weren’t even dating. Did you ask him about it?” I scoff and look down at the rack of shirts in front of me.
“Obviously. You know what he said?” I pause and she shakes her head. “I don’t see the big deal, babe. It’s just a costume.”
“Something is up with him.” As if on cue my phone vibrates and I pull it from my pocket. As my eyes skim over the text I can feel a lump in my throat. “Hey, everything okay?” I shake my head and push my phone into her hands as tears begin to roll down my cheeks. “Are you serious? He broke up with you through text?” A choked sob escapes my lips and Kat quickly wraps an arm around my shoulder to lead me from the store.
“Hey. Where did you go just now?” Kat asked as I look up from my dinner plate.
“Just thinking. Can I ask you something?” She nods before pressing her elbows against the table and resting her chin against her palms. “Why was it a text? Didn’t I at least deserve some kind of explanation?”
“Honey, you didn’t do anything wrong with Colby. You loved him. You gave him everything you had to offer and he was just too ungrateful to see it. I love Colby and I love you. I don’t want to place the blame on anyone. Was he wrong to break up with you through text? Yes. He should have spoken to you in person but sometimes people just grow apart. Maybe it was the right person at the wrong time.” I sigh heavily and push my plate away, my appetite long gone.
“I just wish-“ my words are cut short by a knock on my door.
“Are you expecting someone?” I shake my head before rising to my feet and heading to the door of my apartment. “Are we about to be robbed?”
“Kat!” She shrugs her shoulders and I turn towards the door to look through the peephole. Standing on the other side is a drenched Colby Brock. “It’s Colby.” Kat’s eyes widen as she races over to the door and pushes me out of the way to see for herself.
“I’m heading home. Let him in.” She says frantically as she begins to grab her purse and jacket. “Talk.” Her eyes are pleading as she grips onto my forearm before throwing the door open. “Colby! Didn’t expect to see you all the way out here.” She gives me one last look before retreating down the hall and out of sight. My eyes finally land on the man leaning against the doorframe. Water dripping from his drenched clothes and his eyes red rimmed and watery.
“Colby? What are you doing here?” He clears his throat before motioning behind him with his left hand.
“I, uh,” he pauses as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. “I heard your favorite song on the radio and I turned it up.” I raise my eyebrows in confusion waiting for him to continue. “I hate that song. I turned it up because that’s what I did for you. Any time that song came on the radio you would light up. Just like the sun. So I would turn the radio up and when you weren’t there, it hit me like a train.” More tears roll down his cheeks and he uses his wet sleeve to attempt to wipe them away. “I messed up. Months ago.”
“Colby, if I let you in, you have to promise me I will not get hurt.” He reaches out a shaky hand to which I happily oblige. “Colbs, you’re freezing.” A small smile creeps onto his face as his eyes meet mine briefly.
“God, I missed that.” I pull him into my apartment before starting to pull at the hem of his hoodie. “Woah, take me to dinner first.” He jokes before inhaling deeply.
“Colby.” I warn. “You need to get out of these clothes and into a warm bath.” His hand presses against my cheek and I finally meet his eyes for longer that a fleeting moment.
“Take me back. Please.” My heart aches at the crack in his voice and I sigh heavily into the space between us.
“Promise me I won’t get hurt.”
“I promise. Never again. Not intentionally.” For a moment my mind wanders back to the months of heartache that had me in shackles but as I stare into his blue eyes the fear starts to melt away and I lean into him. His lips meet mine in a fervent kiss before he’s guiding us backwards towards the room we used to share. “I have other way for us to warm up.” He mumbles in between kisses.
“Oh, you perv.” And before I can say anything else he hoist me up by my thighs to carry me away from the living room.
#sam and colby#colby brock imagine#colby brock x reader#colby brock x y/n#colby brock x you#colby brock#colby brock angst#Spotify
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