#that was me i was one of them i first heard this story because of phantoms and then read it in full | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcuamerica · 1 day

Text

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

Series Masterlist

Join the taglist here

Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadow139 @mybestfriendmademe @atomolvnar @complete-randomness2 @lilah-asteria @tele86 @mariahoedt @6v6babycheese @secretsthathauntus @krowiathemythologynerd @fightmedraco @he6rtshaker

#acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #the shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #katie writes

58 notes · View notes

peachesancreams · 2 days

Text

Expanding on the Wives

everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~

Alastors wife

Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)

They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?

They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.

They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.

Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.

Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?

When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.

They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.

Now for the second and remembered meeting!!

Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.

It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.

Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.

"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."

Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.

He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.

Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.

Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!

They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.

Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.

She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.

Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.

Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.

It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.

They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.

Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.

Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?

#x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #1920s-1933 alastor #tried to keep it time accurate #dividers by #saradika-graphics

50 notes · View notes

myfairkatiecat · 3 days

Text

Guest pastor at the church I play piano for decided to be a real piece of work this week :)

Okay gonna put the rant under the cut in case someone doesn’t feel like scrolling past my indignant ranting about the guest pastor at my church

we’ve had arguments in the past over picking hymns. Because that’s my job. If she were the actual pastor she’d get final say, but as I am the one actually employed at this church and she is a guest, technically I get the final say.

That’s technically. But in practice, I’m seventeen, and she’s sixty-something, and I don’t like getting into arguments with people with a lot of years on me.

But she picks gross hymns that no one can sing, and the congregation backed me and said I need to get to pick the hymns. So we compromised. She picks the middle hymn, I pick the opening and closing hymns.

Whatever. That’s only one weird hymn a week.

Weird hymns are also really hard to play because they make no musical sense (there’s a reason no church ever sings them ever). So I spend most of my time practicing the weird song.

Today I got to the church and I practiced briefly the ones I picked, and then extensively the weird one she picked.

Then, one minute til the service starts—and I mean 9:59 for a 10:00 service—she says, “just to be clear—we aren’t doing number 650, we’re doing ‘his banner over me is love.’”

And I was like 🧍‍♀️ what

And she’s like “I emailed you this weeks ago…..”

So I pulled up the email she sent me weeks ago and pointed to the fact that she said we were doing hymn 650. Which was a horrible terrible disgusting hymn I never want to ever have to play ever again ever

She points to the bottom of the email, which is a link to Ultimate Guitar, and says, “but we talked about this song and you said you loved it and already knew it!”

And I was like

Huh

I’ve never heard that song in my life

What the heck are you talking about. That conversation definitely did not happen.

So I’m like “listen. That’s a link to chords on ultimate guitar for a song I don’t know. You said you’d ‘love to play it during the sermon’ underneath the part where you explicitly said we were going to sing hymn 650 this week. I can read chords, but I don’t know the melody so that doesn’t really do anyone any good. I assumed when I first got this email that when you said you’d love to play this song during the sermon, you meant that you’d have a recording, because in the past you’ve played recordings of songs before during your sermons. It was also below you explicitly saying that we were doing hymn 650, and we’ve established that you only pick one song a week.”

And she said, “I only picked one song… it’s this song”

And I’m like “then WHAT IS THIS??” Because the email she sent DEFINITELY had that song explicitly written on it!

She kept not answering that part and I couldn’t isolate the question and force and answer cause like I said it was 9:59 for a 10:00 service

So I told her, “I’m not going to play this song, because I don’t know it and you did not make clear that I was supposed to learn it, you also didn’t send me actual sheet music for it and explicitly named your one hymn choice for this week that you are now saying I wasted my time learning.”

So she’s all upset and passive aggressive like “whatever 🙄 we’ll just sing it without music. I’ll teach it to them. EXCUSE ME EVERYONE! IM GONNA TEACH YOU A SONG NOW!”

And the congregation is kinda like……ok??????

And she starts singing but no one can follow her because she’s not really in any particular key……..

So uh

That’s my story from this morning

*deep breaths* I am a Christian and Christians love I am a Christian and Christians love I am a Christian and Christians love

#Christianity #Katie’s church job

44 notes · View notes

ghostsandmermaids · 13 hours

Text

Fandom Manifesto: Hello From The Hallowoods

(Originally written for the Fandomanifesto community on Pillowfort.)

Here's a (mostly spoiler-free) fandom manifesto for my favorite podcast, Hello From The Hallowoods. (Please try to keep the comments on this post spoiler-free as well.)

What is a fandom manifesto?

Inspired by ship manifestos, a fandom manifesto is an essay meant to introduce people to a fandom and promote it by explaining its appeal. It's a really fun tradition that I would love to keep going.

What is Hello From The Hallowoods?

Darker than your dreams, and farther North than you remember, there is a forest where life and death meet…

Hello From The Hallowoods is a queer horror podcast written and produced by William A. Wellman (they/them). This is the official description (taken from Spotify):

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, a cosmic narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

It's set in a forest in northern Canada (the Hallowoods) in a post-apocalyptic world plagued by the black rains. The story follows the inhabitants of the Hallowoods—only some of whom are alive and human—as their lives become increasingly interconnected.

The podcast is narrated by Nikignik (he/they), also known as One Hundred Eyes in the Dark, an eldritch god who speaks directly to the listener via their nightmares. He begins to tell these stories because he's grieving his partner, another god called Marolmar (he/him), and humans were the last thing Marolmar created. Over time, Nikignik changes from a more passive narrator to an active character in the story.

There are a lot of characters, including but not limited to:

a nonbinary Frankenstein's creature piercing together their identity

a trans ghost dealing with his occultist father

an invisible man finding love at first sight

a genderfluid storm witch trying to prove themself

a retired rockstar and her punk butch lesbian daughter

a floral-suit-wearing demon on a celestial audit of earth

a starwolf on a mission to kill said demon

a killer robot skull and his pet dead seagull

an unkindness of ravens (yes, they are one character)

… and many, many more.

How scary is it?

It's a horror podcast, so there are some scary moments, but for me, the story feels very comforting and bittersweet as it explores horror tropes in a really unique way. According to the website:

It's been described as a show that helps you sleep easier, rather than one that keeps you up at night.

The story also explores themes like religious trauma, isolation, death, grief, and queerphobia, so please check the content warnings at the end of each episode description or at the start of each episode transcript. Transcripts are available on the website.

Why should I listen to it?

If the description above didn't convince you, here are some more reasons why you should listen to Hello From The Hallowoods.

There is so much content! I often complain about books being almost always standalones or duologies lately and TV seasons only being 8-10 episodes. If I really like something, I want to spend as much time with it as possible!

With HFTH, I don't have that problem because there is so much to listen to! There are currently (almost) 150 episodes available (plus a few live shows and bonus episodes), and new episodes come out every Wednesday. There are also weekly 100-word bonus stories on Patreon, and a tie-in novel called One Hundred Eyes In The Dark is currently in the works, so if you're looking for a story you can get really invested in (or if you're angry that all your favorite shows have been canceled), HFTH is perfect for you!

There are so many queer characters, disabled characters, and characters of color! If you're looking for a really diverse show, you will love HFTH. (I cried when I heard a character describe herself as aromantic.) But even aside from the diversity, the characters are just amazing. I mean, "What if Frankenstein's creature got love and support and was an absolute cinnamon roll?" is the perfect character concept. The villains are also really compelling and well-written.

It's a great introduction to podcasts, especially for book lovers, because it often feels like a very immersive audiobook! The voice acting and music are incredible, and even though there are a lot of characters, you can tell them apart very easily by their voices. If you like fantasy and horror books, this could be your introduction to the world of audio dramas.

That being said, if you have listened to other horror podcasts before, you will still love this one! It sometimes reminds me of Welcome To Night Vale, but the setting and characters are very unique, and the writing is so, so beautiful.

It's also a great introduction to horror! I used to avoid horror media because I get scared very easily, but horror podcasts (and especially Hello From The Hallowoods) made me discover how much I actually enjoy horror. HFTH explores horror tropes in such a kind, unique, and hopeful way, and as sappy as that sounds, listening to it makes the horrors of everyday life a little easier to deal with.

If you like Malevolent (another really great horror podcast), Harlan Guthrie has a guest role in HFTH! You might also recognize Mx. Wellman's voice from other podcasts like WOE.BEGONE, The Silt Verses or Old Gods of Appalachia.

The fandom is amazing! Everyone is so kind and talented, and we always have a lot of fun theorizing about what will happen next. There's even a fan-run Discord server!

We also have a fan wiki, and in addition to the official information, we also have a "fun gender" for each character. Here are some of my favorites:

Tumblr Sexyman (Official)

Eye-Affiliated Podcast Host

Deer that will fuck you up

Whatever the hell was going on with the guy from Shape Of Water

Nightmare Personality

Hot Topic Goth

Dilf Automobile

How do I listen to it?

You can listen to Hello From The Hallowoods on the podcatcher of your choice. Here are some suggestions from the Hallowoods website:

Spotify

Apple Podcasts

Podbean

YouTube

Google Podcasts

It's not an anthology, so please listen to it from the beginning to see how the different characters and plot threads come together.

The show is entirely ad-free and sponsor-free, so if you like it and want to financially support it, please consider joining the show’s Patreon.

And that's it! There are many things I didn't include for spoiler reasons, but this should give you a basic idea of what HFTH is about and why I love it so much.

I hope I convinced you to listen to Hello From The Hallowoods, and maybe you will love it as much as I do!

#hello from the hallowoods #hfth #fandom manifesto #podcast recs #podcast recommendations #horror podcasts #long post

51 notes · View notes

viesanterieures · 3 days

Text

𝑨 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟐

Robert Fischer (Inception) x Reader

previous chapter next chapter

summary: Robert and the reader have nothing in common. He's the son of a multi millionaire and future heir to a massive energy company, she doesn't really stand out in the big city Paris. But then Robert catches her trying to steal from him. No longer able to stand the pressure from his father and his company, Robert offers her a deal.

warnings: bad father-son relationship

word count: 4,8k+

note: you don’t have to watch inception to understand this story.

"Okay, listen. The hotel has a couple of back doors for the staff. That way we can get you out of here unnoticed."

Robert just nodded silently as he packed some of his stuff into a suitcase. Then he put on a pair of black sunglasses and a grey cap that completely covered his dark hair.

YN couldn't help but laugh a bit at his outfit, but then quickly pulled herself together. She poked her head out of the room to make sure the hallway was empty. "Come on!" She hurried across the corridor and down the stairs to the ground floor with Robert in tow.

"Damn it, why can't we take the lift?" she heard his deep voice grumble behind her as he dragged the heavy suitcase along.

"Just so we're clear, if you're going to live in my two-room flat, you're going to have to do without any luxuries," she hissed in his direction.

She pulled out a key and unlocked a narrow door. The cool night air hit you as she opened the door. "Come on, let's go! We need to get to the Metro Station as soon as possible. Luckily, it's just around the corner."

Robert looked at her in disgust.

"We’re going to take the underground? Don't you have a car?"

"No, I don’t have one and now come with me or you'll be sleeping under a bridge tonight."

Roberts looked at her with a horrified expression on his face, and finally they hurried through the narrow, poorly lit side streets together.

It occurred to her that it was completely crazy to trust Fischer, since she didn't know him at all and had only met him half an hour ago. But she had got herself into this situation and there was no going back.

When they finally arrived at the Metro station, she glanced around to make sure no one was following them.

"The next train leaves in five minutes..." She exhaled exhaustedly and ran the sleeve of her jacket over her forehead.

There was comparatively little going on this late in the evening, but what frightened her a little was a greasy old man who kept staring at her. Without realising it, she moved a little closer to Robert, who put a protective hand on her shoulder. He must have looked pretty scary in his black coat, dark sunglasses and cap, because the old man looked away immediately.

She was incredibly grateful when the train finally arrived, the doors squeaked open and she quickly squeezed in with Robert and his suitcase.

She sat down on one of the old and a bit dirty looking seats and Fischer sat down next to her, wrinkling his nose and trying to avoid touching the seat. YN guessed that this was probably the first time in his life that he had used public transport, because super-rich little Robbie must have got his first chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce for his 18th birthday.

They sat there for a while, looking out of the windows into the darkness.

"It's crazy what we're doing here," she finally broke the silence.

"Yes, it is," Robert confirmed.

"If someone had told me this story... I wouldn't believe it." She began to laugh, finally eliciting a small smile from my male companion. It was a shame that the dark sunglasses and cap covered half his face. He must have looked so handsome underneath. She quickly pushed the thought aside and braced her feet against the seats in front of them.

"What happened to your shirt?" She pointed at the huge brown stain.

"Nothing. Just probably the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me," Fischer replied, lost in thought.

"Please tell me," she begged him.

Robert sighed slightly annoyed. "The secretary of my potential new client obviously can't serve coffee and spilled it all over me.

YN looked at him in confusion. "But it's not your fault. If this is the most embarrassing thing you've ever experienced, then you're really lucky. I'd rather not tell you about my school days."

"I was home schooled," Robert replied seriously.

"That explains a lot," she said as the underground came to a screeching halt. "Come on, get up. We have to get off."

***

She saw Robert frowning beside her as he looked up at the dark building, which looked more like a large grey box with windows than a house. He was dragging his suitcase behind him with one hand, making a lot of noise in the stairwell.

"Shh, are you crazy?" she whispered to him, putting a finger to her lips. "The neighbours are very noise-sensitive. Madame Dubois stands outside my door and complains if I even cough at night," she whispered in his direction. She tried to help him with the heavy suitcase and carry it up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Finally, relieved, she pushed open the door to her flat. "Come in."

He looked around the flat curiously.

"I know, I know, you're probably used to different and more luxurious things ... But…"

"It's...small... but it's nice here. I like it." Robert interrupted her.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. She had expected anything, but not such a reaction. But he was probably so desperate in his situation that he was happy with anything.

YN led him into the living room and pointed to the sofa. "You can sleep here, I'll get you some blankets and pillows. Make yourself comfortable. Also..." she laughed briefly. "You can take off your disguise now."

She quickly drew the curtains so that no one outside could see who she was hiding in her flat.

"I need a shower first," Robert said, opening his suitcase and pulling out some clean clothes, all of which looked more expensive than YN's entire flat.

"Straight ahead, second door on the right, there's the bathroom," she told him. He thanked her and disappeared.

"There are clean towels in the cupboard under the sink," she called after him, sitting down on the sofa with a sigh. She hoped desperately that the whole thing wouldn't end in a total disaster and that Fischer would just stay with her for a few days unnoticed before disappearing again.

As the minutes passed, YN finally got up suspiciously and knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you okay? Or did you climb out the window?"

"No, I'm still here," his muffled voice came back.

"My God, you take twice as long a shower as I do. I still have to pay my water bill this month, so please don't overdo it".

"How nice that you have a millionaire's son who can pay for it," Robert shouted. YN did her best to hold back her laughter.

Finally the door opened and Robert stepped out. His hair was still a little damp, he was wearing a white shirt and wide pajama pants, only the smell that filled the room confused her a little.

"Wait, did you use my shower gel and shampoo?" she looked at him questioningly.

"Yes, I forgot mine. Now I smell like a woman. When you go shopping in the next few days, please bring me a men's shampoo. I'll give you the money for it but please not the green one they sell, it smells like an old shoe."

"Will do it", YN looked at him with amusement. He was so unbelievably spoilt and vain, but somehow still likeable.

Yawning, he sat down beside her. "You're sitting on my bed," he looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sitting on my couch," YN replied seriously.

"Just kidding." Robert laughed and patted her lightly on the shoulder.

Wordlessly, she threw an open magazine into his lap.

"What's that?" he asked, confused. "Please don't tell me you read these tabloids. It's all rubbish in there."

"But it was right that you were staying at the Ritz Hotel. They wrote about that yesterday," she told him.

He picked up the magazine and started to read the article.

Scandal around the Fischer family - multimillionaire on his deathbed, son on a spending spree!

A drama straight out of a Hollywood film is currently happening in a hospital room in Sydney: Maurice Fischer, the 64-year-old king of the energy industry and CEO of the Fischer Morrow mega-empire, is fighting for his life on his deathbed, while his 32-year-old son Robert, who grew up in luxury, is waiting impatiently for him to die - just so he can grab the family inheritance!

Growing up wealthy, Robert Fischer has never worked a day in his life. Instead of supporting his father in the most difficult and likely final weeks of his life, the young Fischer seems to have his priorities elsewhere. Rumour has it that he is currently enjoying a luxury holiday in Paris, - all at his dying father's expense!

Maurice Fischer had hoped his son would take over the family empire, but with Robert's laziness, that is now in doubt. The world is watching this drama of power and money with bated breath. Will Fischer Jr. inherit his father's legacy and run the empire, or will he simply sell it and continue to live in luxury at his father's expense even after his death? It remains exciting!

Below the article was a large photo of Robert in an elegant black suit and tie. He had his arm around the shoulder of an older man with a moustache and grey hair, who was also wearing a suit. They both were laughing, admittedly a bit contrived, into the camera.

Robert lowered the magazine with a sigh. "You don't really believe what they write, do you?"

Wordlessly, she took it from his hand. "Then why aren't you with him if he's so ill?"

"It's been going on for months. I wanted to visit him in hospital so often, but he didn’t want to see me most of the time. Besides, I'm not lazy and I don’t live at his expense. I have a university degree and I'm an external representative for the company. I’m a grown man and I earn my own money. The press think I’m a little spoiled baby and write one false article after another."

YN rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She was starting to understand that Robert was trying to hide in front of his father and the press for a few days. Even if there were certainly other options than staying with a woman he had just met.

"I'm very sorry for you, Robert," she said quietly and stood up slowly. "Good night, sleep well."

"Thank you, you too," Robert replied tiredly, lay down and pulled the soft blanket up to his neck.

She gave him one last look before turning and disappearing into her room. The fear she had earlier, that Robert might be a serial killer, had completely disappeared. He just seemed like a very stressed young man, under enormous pressure from his father and the public. You could almost feel sorry for him, despite all the money.

***

Robert opened his tired eyes and yawned softly. The sun shone through the curtains onto the beige carpet, drawing a bright line across it. He sat up slowly and looked at the clock beside him. It was half past seven, Saturday the 16th of May. His throat was incredibly dry. Groaning, he got up and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where he could hear soft sounds. Was YN awake?

Curious, he pushed open the door and jumped back, startled. There stood a woman about his father's age, staring at him confusedly as she placed apples and bananas on the kitchen table. She looked at him from head to toe, which made Robert feel very uncomfortable as his white shirt was quite see-through and his hair looked quite messy.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur?", she said, looking at him questioningly.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Robert finally asked.

The woman put down a plastic bag and came towards him, smiling. "I'm YN's mother. I go to the market every Saturday morning and bring her fresh fruit because it's a bit cheaper than in the supermarket," she explained to him, Robert having trouble understanding her with her strong French accent. "And you are..." she continued to look at him and then smiled a little more. "YN didn't tell me she had a boyfriend."

"Well... that... I..," Robert couldn't get out a single sentence.

"I understand. She doesn't make a fuss about it. But I have to admit she had no reason not to tell me about you," she winked at him with a laugh, "but she's never had an Englishman before".

Robert forced a smile, but felt his cheeks blush.

"Australian," he corrected her, "I... I'm going to the bathroom, ma'am."

As he closed the kitchen door behind him, he put his hands over his face. YN, who had just got up and walked past him, looked at him questioningly. "What's going on?"

"Shh!" he hissed at her. "Your mum saw me. She thinks I'm your new boyfriend."

She looked at him with her mouth open. "Are you completely braindead?"

"I just walked in, I couldn't have known that your mother would turn up on a Saturday morning. You could have at least warned me".

YN remained silent. "Go to the bathroom, I'll talk to her".

Without another word, she went into the kitchen and closed the door immediately. Instead of going to the bathroom as she had told him to, he stayed in the hallway and listened. Robert's French wasn't good enough to understand every word, but he picked up a few sentences.

"Is it something serious between you and him?" YN's mother asked.

"I don't think so," YN said seriously.

"Are you sure? It looks different to me," said the mother. Robert smiled a little. "He's so handsome, YN," she said. "My God, why don't you take the chance?"

Her daughter remained silent. "We are so different. He's so handsome and extroverted that he attracts all the attention. I'm the invisible one, nobody notices me.

Robert didn't understand what else they were saying except for YN‘s mother telling her daughter: "He looks so familiar, like I've seen him somewhere before."

Robert bit his lip, turned and pushed open the bathroom door. Did she suspect something?

***

Fortunately, the next few days passed without incident. Robert spent his time in YN's flat, usually relaxing in front of the television, reading the books on the shelf, looking after the cat he'd quickly grown to love, or, when YN returned from work at the hotel on Monday, cooking a fresh meal for them both.

She was amazed that he could cook so well, because she had assumed that Robert had had a housekeeper since he was a child. But Robert explained that it was his passion and that he had always done it himself.

He had turned his mobile phone off for the last few days, which meant he hadn't answered a single call from the company or his father since Friday night. He was pretty sure it would explode as soon as he turned it back on. But Robert was enjoying the silence.

YN somehow liked living with Robert. She had been alone for years and every time she came home in the evening she found a dark, empty flat. With Robert it was different. She felt that he really waited for her to tell him about her day and he always listened attentively. She really began to trust him and felt more and more attracted to him, although she would never admit it. He had also agreed to pay for the food, electricity and water she used, and even a little more, so that YN didn't have to worry about her bills this month.

When she came home from work on Wednesday evening, she pulled the latest issue of the gossip magazine out of her bag and handed it to Robert.

He quickly leafed through it until he found the article.

The Fischer scandal continues - millionaire's son suddenly vanishes without a trace

The drama surrounding the Fischer family reaches a new climax when Robert Fischer, heir to the millionaire empire, suddenly disappears. His seriously ill father, Maurice Fischer, is desperate to find his son.

Robert Fischer was last seen in Paris on Friday 15th May and has since vanished from the face of the earth. Speculations about his whereabouts are spreading like wildfire - has he gone into hiding to avoid responsibility and to live a life beyond parental control?

The Fischer family is in shock as the search for their missing son intensifies. As the world waits for answers, the suspense and mystery surrounding Robert Fischer's sudden disappearance grows. Will he be found before it's too late and his father dies, or will he remain in the dark forever?

Robert shook his head in disbelief. "Every time I think the articles can't get any weirder, I'm proven wrong."

"Do you really think they‘re looking for you?" YN wanted to know.

"I'm pretty sure they do. My father is probably worried that something has happened to me. And no, not because I'm important to him as a person and he's worried about my wellbeing, like a normal father would be. It's because he's afraid of not having an heir and having to hand over his company to a stranger when he dies.

YN was silent and reached for Robert's hand. She felt so incredibly sorry for him. It seemed he had never been truly loved.

Just in this moment the phone rang. Sighing, she got up and picked up the phone. "Bonsoir, Maman…Oui… oui…"

YN raised an eyebrow and turned up the volume on the phone. Robert listened carefully, although once again he couldn’t understand everything they said.

"No, we can't do that, we can't do that."

"But why not? He's your friend and we want to meet him too," his mother's voice came through the loudspeaker.

"I told you it's nothing serious," YN replied stubbornly.

"I saw the light in your eyes when you told me about him. It is serious, admit it."

Sighing, YN touched her forehead. "Maman, I..."

"Look, I've already told the others and they're looking forward to meeting him. There's nothing wrong with you bringing your new boyfriend to a family gathering. Or is there something wrong with him?"

The last sentence sent a shiver down Robert's spine.

"No, everything's fine. We'll be there tomorrow evening." YN hung up and looked at Robert a little desperately.

"We're coming? Are you crazy?" Robert looked at her angrily.

"What else could I do? My whole family thinks I have a new boyfriend, how embarrassing is that? And I have a feeling my mother will be sceptical if we don't come." Lost in thought, she chewed her lower lip. "Look, we'll go to this family party, pretend we're lovers, then leave unnoticed and pretend we've broken up again. My family lives under a rock and doesn't read any tabloids".

Robert rolled his eyes. "Good plan."

"Is there anything else left for us?" she wanted to know.

"No," he said. "I just don't want the whole thing to end in chaos."

Hey, thank you for reading!

I was thinking about writing the ending in chapter 3, like his father finds out that he‘s with the reader and the press will photograph them together and write false articles about an affair…

#cillian murphy #cillian #robert fischer #inception x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy ff #inception fanfiction #inception #cillisn murphy fanfiction #christopher nolan #tommy shelby #oppenheimer

31 notes · View notes

theperfectawful · 3 days

Text

Blind Item / Chapter 1

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC

Chapter 1: Gimme More

Rating: Explicit (18+) Series Summary: 2007. Hollywood, CA. As a former child star, you face the harsh reality of growing up in the unforgiving spotlight. A car crash on Sunset Boulevard and a cocaine scandal give you one option: Rehab. Reluctantly agreeing, you embark on a 90-day stay at Promises Malibu to attempt to salvage your career. But when Dieter Bravo arrives, your journey takes an unexpected turn. Drawn to each other, you navigate sobriety and the wreckage of your reputation. As the double standard of Hollywood's treatment of troubled stars becomes evident, you question if redemption is truly possible in a world of unequal consequences. Word Count: 11k

Content/Warnings: Age gap (~10 years, Dieter is in his mid-thirties), alternating POV, heavy drug use, illegal drug use, alcohol use, driving under the influence, frenemy dynamics, oral sex (f!receiving), dubcon/noncon, it is neither reader nor Dieter's finest hour when we meet them. Period-typical language and behavior, Hollywood assholes.

Notes: This is my first fic - I've never written or posted anything like this before, so please be kind and feel free to share any feedback or suggestions. I never would have been able to write something like this, let alone work up the nerve to post it, if it hadn't been for the kind and gracious support of @pennyserenade, @whatsnewalycat and @frannyzooey all lending me their advice when I slid into their DMs. They all inspire me endlessly with their work and talent and it’s because of their work that I was inspired to write something of my own.

Our reader is, for now, and unnamed OC. While I’ve done my best to avoid using physical descriptors of her, it should be noted that this story is a period piece that takes place in early 2000s Hollywood. The main character would have been a contemporary of stars like Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie, and there are certain assumptions I’ve made about what she looks like based on that factor of this particular story. The early 2000s could be dark, ruthless times, y'all, especially for young women in and effected by Hollywood. My intention is to examine that. Thank you for reading!

Desperate times call for desperate measures: sources say that this former child star’s team is working overtime to keep her employed. When she made her not-so-graceful exit from her latest film, the star cited conflicting schedules as the reason for her departure. The film’s producer has a different story: the Hollywood juggernaut has been heard around town calling the star unprofessional, accusing her of being late to her call times and using drugs in her trailer. She’s got a shot at a last resort: a return to television. Word is, the bad publicity has her team bargaining and drawing out sober contracts just to get her hired.

Whenever you were in town for work, you stayed at the Chateau Marmont. You were in Los Angeles often enough and long enough to justify buying a home there, but you refused, the idea of actually owning a home in LA never quite sitting right with you. Instead, you rented the same room each time you visited. You loved that little bungalow. The thick, lush landscaping shaded the windows and kept it nice and cool inside, and your front door was only a stone's-throw from the swimming pool.

It felt like home after a few years, anyway. These old, tucked-away places were what you liked most about Los Angeles, unlikely, quiet havens hidden between sky-high condos and overly sleek offices. The building breathed old-Hollywood luxury, vintage tiles and original hardwood floors and the ghosts of silent film stars wandering the hallways. The staff knew you well. The same breakfast was delivered to your door at noon every day. The top-tier maid service employed by the hotel kept the living room, kitchen, bathrooms and second bedroom impeccably tidy, though they were given clear instructions not to enter your bedroom.

Your bedroom did not inspire the same glamorous aesthetic as the rest of the hotel. Clothing was piled high against the walls and pouring out of dresser drawers, tags and receipts discarded in the wake. Empty bottles cluttered the hardwood floors, clear, crushed water bottles and rattly orange pill canisters. A full ashtray sat on a side table, a makeup mirror and various products scattered next to it.

In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed, an antique walnut headboard sprawling against the wall with a mountain of sheets and blankets layered atop a deep mattress. You laid swaddled in those sheets, rubbing your palms into your shut eyes and groaning as you rolled over, dragging your hands wide across your face to peek out at the clock on your nightstand.

4:41pm. You blinked, straining your eyes to focus and confirm you read that right. 4:41pm. Fuck.

Bleary-eyed, you reached for your phone, met immediately by a barrage of missed calls and unread messages when you slid it open.

MELANIE [3:21 AM]: Bathrrom

PETE [3:36 AM]: Did u leave

CORINNE [9:00 AM]: Call with NBC @ 1. Please be available. Corinne Roxford.

MISSED CALL: CORINNE

CORINNE [11:30 AM]: Confirming availability at 1pm. Corinne Roxford.

(212) 555-4325 [12:06 PM]: Hey gorgeous ;)

MISSED CALL [12:30 PM]: CORINNE

MISSED CALL [12:45 PM]: CORINNE

MISSED CALL [1:00 PM]: CORINNE

CORINNE [1:03 PM]: ??? Corinne Roxford.

MISSED CALL [1:05 PM]: CORINNE

CORINNE [1:07 PM]: Call immediately. Corinne Roxford.

“Hiiiii,” a soft, tired voice called from across the room. You looked up, squinting, at your best friend Natalie leaning in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Mmmm,” you hummed in response, peeking out from where you lay buried in the sheets. “Hi.”

She crossed the room, kicking piles of clothes out of the way and perched herself on the corner of the bed, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. You cracked open one eye, locking eyes with her. In an unspoken acknowledgment of your situation - what you got into last night, the state you’re currently in, the splitting headache you’re certain she has, too - you raised an eyebrow at her. She smirked back at you and the two of you erupted into laughter. You lifted yourself up to sit, pushing your foot into her side from under the covers.

“You were insane last night!” she accused, still smiling as she resumed brushing her teeth.

“Me!” your voice was raspy and you coughed. “Me? You were the one making out with the bartender.”

“He wasn’t a bartender. He said he was with the DJ or something.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s better,” you snorted, the sound muffled by the plush pillows that cradled your head. You rubbed your palms across your face again, feeling the coarse texture of your own tired skin. The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of morning seeping through the half-closed blinds.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, disrupting the quiet ambiance. You picked it up, groaning when you saw your manager’s name blaring across the bright screen. With a sigh, you slid it open.

“Hi, Corinne,” your voice was a hoarse whisper as you did your best to sound alive. Natalie stirred from her spot and crossed back to the bathroom, old floorboards creaking underneath her feet.

“I needed you on that call this morning. This is your career I’m trying to save here. Do you think I’m doing all of this for my health?”

“I mean… you’re not not…” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it. She is on your payroll.

“Very funny. I don’t think I need to remind you that you’re running out of friends and favors here, hun. I don’t think you want me to join that list.” Her sentence was punctuated by the sound of her horn honking and a muttered expletive. She sighs. “NBC still wants to speak with you, and soon, but they want to do a four-episode Growing special. The rest of the cast is on board, and they think if we play this right we can turn into a full-on reboot. But you have to straighten up, do you understand? I need you in the Santa Monica office first thing Monday to sign the paperwork.”

“I’ll be there. I promise.” Your eyes closed again, and you sunk into the plush embrace of the king-sized bed, the soft cotton fabric soothing against your skin.

“I don’t know how to make it any more clear to you how much trouble all of us are in. This is your shot at a comeback.”

“I understand.”

There’s a bit of silence, the noise of New York traffic floating through the airwaves and into your ear. You insisted on total honesty from Corinne, unable to tolerate your team coddling you, so her words might have hurt more if this was the first time you’d heard them. Or maybe if the haze you’d woken up in were a bit thinner.

“Tomlin and the team will be in on Thursday night to get you ready for the VMAs. I’ll see you then, too.” Corinne changed the subject, her voice a mix of stern professionalism and genuine concern.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet, a defensive baby voice you switched into when you were nervous, a trademark of yours that had been mocked by everyone from ex-boyfriends to the cast of Saturday Night Live. Corinne said goodbye and you felt Natalie’s weight return to your side.

You groaned, long and drawn out, tossing your phone into the labyrinth of sheets and blankets surrounding you. The show she referred to was a reboot of the sitcom you spent your childhood working on - Growing Together. It's one-half cast reunion, one-half desperate, nostalgic cash-grab. The producer you sat across from at the pitch meeting was almost delirious with excitement - explaining what a smashing success it was sure to be, a “televised homecoming for America's favorite family.” It took so much strength not to roll your eyes right in front of him that you thought you’d pop a blood vessel.

“Are you in trouble?” Natalie asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Yeah, almost always," you replied, casual in your admission. As you sat up, fully awakening, you stretched and planted your feet on the floor. You chugged the warm Vitamin Water on your nightstand before reaching for your bag on the floor and digging through its contents. Gum, a fluorescent orange paper wristband, a baby pink Juicy Tube, a black and white photobooth strip of you and Natalie with your tongues out. Not finding what you were looking for, you dumped it out onto your bed and continued rummaging through the items and garbage inside. Your iPod, a receipt from the drugstore, 3 loose cigarettes and half a dozen empty quarter-sized plastic bags. You sighed, shoving everything back inside carelessly.

“Did we finish everything last night?” You call out, patting the bed behind you, your gaze darting around in search of your phone.

“We?” Natalie’s laughter rang through the room. “I don’t know about ‘we!’”

“God, no wonder,” you muttered, the realization of this morning's particularly splitting headache dawning. Locating your phone again, you typed out a text message to your dealer, padding out of your room to the kitchen.

[5:13 PM]: Andyyyyyy. U going to Lush tonight?

You tapped the side of your phone restlessly for a beat, then texted again.

[5:13 PM]: Can you bring what u brought last night

In the kitchen, you opened the cabinet, revealing an array of neatly arranged pill bottles. Without looking, you pulled out a bottle of Advil and an empty glass. Seated at the kitchen table, engrossed in her Macbook, was your assistant, Rhea.

“Corinne’s pissed.” She said before she even looked at you, focused intently on the screen in front of her.

“Good morning,” you responded, filling your glass at the sink and beaming an exaggerated, pageant-queen smile at her. She scoffed in response.

“The sun is going down in… 40 minutes.” she retorted, her gaze flitting momentarily to the clock on the wall, then back down. You made a mockingly offended expression, hands lifting with dramatic flair.

“Time is a social construct, Rhea,” you declared, tossing back the Advil and chasing them with the full glass of water.

“Yeah, for you, maybe.” She muttered, still typing like a maniac.

You were fired six weeks ago.

The movie was meant to signal a departure for you, a leap into serious territory - a drama marking an overdue graduation from the teeny-bopper films you’d spent the last decade of your life making. You’d been lucky a year ago - a really excellent writer took a chance on an elevated high school comedy with you at the helm that had people in the industry, finally, taking you more seriously.

Seriously enough to get you in the door, at least. Being on set gave you a different impression. You felt as coddled as ever, still treated like an unqualified child star whose presence was more of a slightly annoying novelty than a creative asset.

You wanted to be treated like an adult - a real actress, a professional. This movie was supposed to accomplish that. Despite the fact that this project had a huge, award-winning director attached to it, it was subject to the same issues you’d experienced on countless, lower-tier productions. Poorly communicated call times, technical issues, handsy producers hanging around your trailer. The latter issue caused you to insist on Rhea being by your side whenever possible - power in numbers in an attempt to keep greasy Hollywood exec’s hands away from you.

You weren’t going out any more often than you usually did. Now that you were old enough to not have to sneak into clubs anymore, you were having fun. Though your evenings often bled into mornings, occasionally pushing the limits of your call times, it felt manageable. However, Corinne was relentless in reminding you of the stakes and your professional expectations: show up, behave, perform.

That morning, exhaustion hung over you more heavily than usual. The night before, you’d been out celebrating Natalie’s 23rd birthday. A friend of hers had just returned from Amsterdam and brought with him a bag of European ecstasy as a souvenir. After Le Deux closed, you threw an after party at the Chateau’s pool, you and Nat drank champagne on your floaties as the chemicals rushed through your systems. Your fingers dipped in and out of the heated pool, the two of you gossiping and giggling and floating along until the sun came up.

You were on set on time - early, in fact - but the MDMA had worn off and your energy was plummeting fast. You’d run through the scene several times with Rhea, but it didn’t seem to have helped much.

“Cut,” the director called out, sighing and stepping out from his position behind the camera. Your costar groans softly, standing up from his spot across from you and stepping away as the surrounding crew moves quickly to reset the scene.

“I’m sorry Alan,” you offered immediately as the director approached your mark. A makeup artist swoops in, tapping a brush to your under eyes.

“You’re furious with him, remember,” he coached you. “I understand it’s early, but I need you to manage to muster up some energy.”

You nodded, trying to focus despite the persistent buzzing in your head. “I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t need you to apologize to me like a punished child, I just need you to perform the way I’ve asked you to. Can you do that?”

"I'll get it right this time, I promise," you assure him softly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He eyed you skeptically, his weaning lack of patience with you made clear by his expression.

“We’ll break for five.” He called out to the room, still staring at you as you stood up and shuffled off behind him.

Rhea arrived at your side with your cell phone and a Red Bull. You flip open the screen as you walk, quickly scrolling through your text messages and trying to distract yourself from your dull, nagging headache.

“That was okay, right?” You asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the uncertainty in your voice. “Is it as bad as he says?”

“You were fine,” Rhea’s voice was uncharacteristically high-pitched as she held out the straw of your energy drink in front of you. Her eyes flit back and forth, scanning the area, and her voice lowers into a whisper as she continues. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m tired,” You brushed her off, shaking your head and handing your phone back to her. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Rhea nods, a concerned eyebrow lifting as you arrive at your trailer. Everyone in your life was looking at you like that lately - as if doing anything less than completely coddling you would cause you to fly off the handle. The cautious glances, the careful choices of words, the subtle tiptoeing around your every move - especially from Rhea, who never gave a fuck about your feelings - it all grated on your nerves like an itch beneath the surface.

She held out her hand and you took it quickly, grabbing an orange bottle from her and slipping through the door of your trailer.

In your trailer, you sat at the vanity and closed your eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths before opening them and gazing at yourself in the mirror. You opened the bottle, pouring out two small pills on the counter in front of you. Scanning the surface quickly, you located a plastic card and pushed it against the pills with the ball of your hand. You pushed it again and again, finally finishing and scraping the excess powder from the card onto the table. Dragging the powder into two lines, you leaned down to inhale them and stood straight back up. You licked your finger and picked up the excess residue, pushing it into your gums and taking a couple more deep breaths to re-center yourself.

The acrid taste of the pills gave you a Pavlovian surge of energy, the anxious buzz in your chest subsiding and easing into a steady hum. You sat at the mirror, dragging a finger underneath your eye to wipe smudged eyeliner from your face. You sniffled, forcing the action into another deep breath and staring at yourself in the mirror. You belong here. You do. You know what you’re doing.

A sharp knock at the door pulled you back to reality with a jump.

“Jesus,” You called out “Alright, Rhea, one second!”

“It’s Alan. Open the door.”

Fuck. You frantically began cleaning the counter in front of you - slipping the credit card into your pocket and brushing your hands across the surface.

“Now!” Alan boomed from outside.

“Okay, okay!” You moved to the door and turned the lock, opening the door just enough for him to see you. You sniffled again, trying to camouflage the reaction with a cough. “Yes?”

Pushing the door firmly, Alan moved into your trailer, his body dwarfing yours in the small space.

“Listen to me,” he said, low but firm. “I’m done. I’m not doing this with you. I am not letting you fuck up my movie.”

“What?” You were dumbstruck.

“Don’t play dumb. Not now. You know exactly what I mean.” He was inches from your face now and getting angrier by the minute. You swallowed, desperately looking around for Rhea. Tears stung the corners of your eyes and you fought them, willing yourself not to blink.

“They’re prescribed,” you attempt. It doesn’t work.

“I don’t care what you do on your own time,” he continued “But this is mine. This is important to me and to everyone else out there whose livelihoods depend on this project, and I’m not going to let some spoiled, coked-out little actress spoil it.”

Your face burned with humiliation.

“Corinne fought hard to get you on this project. This was more of a fucking favor to her than you. But this movie does not live and die by your actions, do you understand me? You can kill yourself if you insist, but you will not pull my movie down with you. You’re fired.”

Your jaw dropped. You were unable to find words let alone choke them out. Rhea’s face was stark white when you spotted her just outside the door of your trailer, her cell phone firmly against her cheek, whispering into the receiver with her eyes wide.

“This is no longer viable for me or anyone else on this crew. I want you off my set now.”

You couldn’t move, your heart pounding in your chest. He stood there for another moment before exiting the trailer and slamming the door behind him. The force of the slam caused the door to open slightly, revealing Alan standing in front of Rhea.

“I don’t want to see you here again.” He said to her, loud enough for you to hear, his voice stern and uncompromising. “You’re lucky I don’t call the cops on you for bringing drugs on my set.”

You hung in the doorway as he stormed away, and as the room swirls into focus you see the eyes of the crew on you, their faces filled with curiosity and concern. Turning your head, you quickly blinked away your tears and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

Officially, you’d been let go due to ‘scheduling conflicts’. It was flimsy, Hollywood jargon for your star showing up fucked up, and unfortunately, the euphemism did little to quell the relentless scrutiny surrounding you.

Rhea had shown you the footage of you that began making the rounds after your firing was announced - a creepy, shaky video leaked by some PA of Alan berating you on set, cut with another clip of you walking around the soundstage. It was embarrassing - your hair was disheveled and you were pacing around in a way that looked strange out of context, but there wouldn’t have been anything interesting about it at all if the rumor hadn’t gotten out that you’d been fired for your drug use. Since then, the attention on you had been relentless.

The paparazzi had been a regular part of your life since you were a young teenager. It, generally, wasn’t as bad in New York, which is part of the reason why you preferred to stay there, but in LA it felt as if you were never more than a few feet from a camera.

When you were 16 and working on your first film after Growing Together ended, you started going to clubs with your coworkers. No one ever gave you any trouble, and you didn’t even start drinking until you were 18, but despite that, the mere optics of a child star reveling in nightlife proved a lucrative angle for the media to exploit.

Since then, you were followed almost constantly. Leaving home, returning, getting groceries, getting your nails done, driving through McDonald’s - flashing lights in the corner of your eye were such a regular thing that you barely even noticed it anymore. There were photographers you knew at this point, friendly ones who knew your angles and creepy ones who constantly tailed your car.

It’d never been like this before, though. Literal throngs of photographers showed up anywhere you went, watching you like hawks, all waiting to swoop in on the slightest slip up. Going shopping was an event that needed to be scheduled in advance, boutiques needing to be warned that you’d be coming in so that they could prepare to lock doors behind you. Every step, every breath, felt scrutinized and captured for public consumption, leaving you suffocated beneath the weight of it all.

You were so angry about being let go - your behavior, truly, was no different from what any other actor your age was doing. You partied with your friends, you were out late sometimes, but you knew you were a good actress. It had been your passion since you were a child, and it was beyond frustrating to hear people tell you they loved you and wanted to see you win and then have them turn against you the moment you made a mistake.

So, although you’d behaved and spent the first week or two lying low at the insistence of Corrine, you were over it now. You stayed in LA, uninterested or unwilling to go home to your family and friends in New York and explain to them what's been going on. You were going out with Natalie every night, usually to Le Deux or Lush or Teddy’s. You stayed out late and slept in late and generally just did your best to avoid confrontation with any paparazzi or journalists or producers you’d pissed off.

You weren’t lying to Alan when you told him you were only taking what had been prescribed to you. It just happened that a lot of things had been prescribed to you. Lately, you’d been alternating between Adderall and MDMA for the last week or so, making you too speedy and anxious to really dwell on the current state of your career. You were, admittedly, running through your prescriptions more quickly than usual, causing you to need to make some calls in order to fill in the gaps.

Throughout dinner, you anxiously slid the screen to your Sidekick open and shut, open and shut. You thumbed through the wheel of apps, trying to will into existence a text from Andy that didn’t seem to be coming. It’s not exactly like you expected rigid punctuality from the guy who sold you drugs, but his radio silence was making you antsy.

[9:05pm]: Hellooooooooo

Natalie exclaimed as a tray of shots was delivered to the table, echoed by the group of acquaintances that you met up with at Don Antonios, the restaurant you always went to before a night out. Eagerly, you took one off the tray, blindly grabbing another as you knocked the first one back. You chased that shot with the other, the warmth of the liquid making you feel more like a human being and less like a raw nerve.

Seated to your right in the booth was a girl you kind of knew. She was always hanging out on the fringes of your group, some friend of a friend of a friend who was for sure going home and telling everyone she partied with you. She’d been gawking at you all night, beady eyes locked on you since you sat down, craning her neck and sitting uncomfortably close to you, your dress pinned under her studded jeans. You’d been resisting the urge to ask her what the fuck her problem was for the better part of an hour. As the group around you became distracted by the arrival of the shots, you seized the opportunity to confront her.

“Can you please get off of my dress?” you spat.

Her eyebrows shot up as she took her eyes off of you for what felt like the first time that evening to look down, apologizing and scooching over. She had tall red stilettos on and, when she looked back up at you, you could see the smudged mascara on her eyelid. Just as you were going to take the opportunity to move away from her, she leaned over to talk to you over the noise that surrounded you.

“Sorry. Hey, I’m Katie.”

You grimaced, not in the mood to talk to this person.

“Hi.”

You turn away for a beat, but your attention is grabbed again by Katie’s voice lowly in your ear.

“Hey, I have Xanax, if you want one,” the offer took you by surprise, the prospect lighting you up immediately.

“Oh, my god, I love you,” you said, quickly turning towards her and extending your palm. “Please?”

Downers really weren’t your thing, even booze wasn’t your favorite, but this evening was going to turn from boring to maddeningly insufferable fast if you didn’t get your hands on something.

“I know someone who needs one when I see them,” she laughed, discreetly dropping two pills into your palm.

The clubs in LA were the same thing every time. You showed up in big black SUVs, posed and made nice for the photographers outside for a moment and then clamored inside towards the booth that was waiting for your party.

It felt like high school. Well, you assumed, since your high school experience took place entirely on set. You saw the same people everywhere, all scattered around the room, broken up into their own little cliques. All gossiping, the room alive with murmurs and whispers. Who’d just shown up? Who was fighting with who? Who’d stolen whose boyfriend? It all felt so juvenile, but not being here was worse, so you put up with it. The people changed, but not really - you usually ended up surrounded by the same cast of promoters, wannabe socialites and greasy LA club dudes, swapped out every couple weeks by stand-ins and understudies and new arrivals. They circled your table like vultures, mingled with one another and made use of your tab while you sat engrossed in your Sidekick.

The night became slightly more tolerable once you’d taken one of the bars Katie gave you, but you were still desperately trying to get a hold of a dealer. By the time you left the restaurant and were climbing into the backseat of your car to head to Lush, you’d even resorted to texting backup options, people you’d partied with once or twice who you suspected might be around.

Sinking into the plush booth, you let your head loll to the side, eyes shutting against the assault of strobing lights. The steady, pumping rhythm of the bass sent a rattle through your bones.

After a minute, Natalie's hand landed gently on your knee, snapping you back to reality.

“You okay, girl?” She asked. Her voice felt distant, barely audible over the pounding bass reverberating through the room. The glitter on her eyelids shimmered in the blue light, the only part of her face you could clearly make out in the shadowy corner of the booth.

“I’m fine,” you answered impatiently, kicking your feet up into the seat next to you. Just then, your phone finally buzzed, your heart skipping a beat as your dealer’s name flashed across the screen

ANDY [11:03PM]: not goin tonite

You scoffed, pausing for a second before furiously tapping out a response.

[11:03PM]: FUCK U ASSHOLE

You hit send and threw your phone into your purse with a huff. You were going to have to come up with something else. Or maybe just slit your wrists right here at the table instead.

You surveyed your group as bottle service brought two large bottles of tequila to your table along with a tray brimming with shots. knew all it would take was a couple hundred bucks from a photographer outside for them to spill about how you’d begged them for coke. They'd probably do it for free just for the attention. You'd already asked Katie, but all she had was Xanax and a joint, and Natalie would've let you know if she got a hold of anything else.

You started scanning the rest of the room, looking for anyone you knew. The club was packed, some sort of launch party that’d booked a huge DJ filling even the VIP section from wall to wall.

Suddenly, your attention was grabbed by the sound of a man shouting at the booth directly across from yours. He was the typical guy you'd find in places like this: a douchey-looking producer type, each of his arms wrapped around two miserable-looking models to his left and right. Intrigued, you followed his gaze to see who he was yelling at.

Oh, bingo.

Dieter Bravo. You recognized him instantly. An actor like you, you knew you’d seen him around at award shows and parties, but you’d never met. His reputation preceded him, though; you knew he partied, knew that he, too, had been let go from movies due to 'scheduling conflicts' more than once. You knew he’d been in trouble for drugs. Last you'd heard, he'd been in the news for cheating on his wife or something. You were certain that all it’d take was a little bit of flirting and buttering him up to get him to share whatever he had with you.

Without a word to anyone, you rose from your booth, ignoring Natalie's questioning as you strode towards Dieter's booth. Immediately, though, you lost your footing, lightheaded from standing up too quickly. You brushed it off, saved from a fall by someone at your booth. Straightening your dress, you grabbed a bottle of tequila before pivoting on your heel and starting back towards Dieter.

Dragged out against his will, Dieter was a guest of honor at a launch party for Elysium Fragrances, the cologne brand he’d shot a campaign for last year. His presence was requested tonight as a make-good for being a no-show at the launch of his own campaign, instead being spotted that evening by the California Highway Patrol speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway with a model in the passenger seat.

He’d been stopped by a cop as he attempted to pump gas, some asshole photographer seizing the opportunity to swoop in on the interaction and hurl all sorts of insulting names at his date. Dieter lost his patience, blowing past the cop to shove the paparazzo to the ground, shattering his camera in the process. He was arrested that evening on five charges - assault and battery, destruction of property, drunk and disorderly conduct, assault of an officer (come on) and, thanks to a thorough search of his car, possession with intent to distribute.

As his smug-faced mugshot circulated the tabloids, it eclipsed the glossy editorial photos that the brand had invested millions in. The extravagant campaign was reduced to a joke, its over-the-top glamour juxtaposed with candid snapshots of Dieter’s angry face shouting at the photographer.

Unbelievably, the brand hadn’t thrown him out then and there. He almost wished they had - he preferred the couple of nights he spent in jail to the following days spent in meetings, his team arguing with Elysium over their ability to sway this and use his reputation to their advantage. Ultimately, they maintained his status as a face of their brand as well as his 6 million dollar contract, with the stipulation that he shoot another campaign and make himself available for any event, launch or party the brand requested for the next year.

Being asked to party in exchange for six million dollars was a sweet deal - he understood that - but the reality of being a cosmetics brand’s puppet meant that he ended up at the same fucking parties week in and week out, always babysat by an appointed employee of the brand or, failing that, someone on his payroll.

Tonight was particularly torturous. The tabloids had latched onto the whispers of his crumbling marriage - rumors that were, fortunately or unfortunately, completely legitimate. Heidi was meant to be the one to tie him down, set him straight, clean him up. Their wedding photos looked like a fucking editorial, glossy photos ran with headlines predicting their domestic bliss. But a year and a half, a relapse, a DUI, and a string of affairs - all on his part - had shattered those illusions.

Last week, Dieter returned home from a 3-day bender to Heidi’s mother on the landing at the top of his stairs. She was screaming and hurling the contents of his closet at him, plus whatever else was within arms reach. Heidi, her once-bright eyes now dull with tears, cowered in a doorway behind her mother, slamming the door behind her when he called out in an attempt to reason with her. Her mom located his Oscar, hurling it towards his head with a warning to leave the house before she called the cops. He’d ducked just in time to avoid the statue concussing him, it instead crashing through the glass window of the door behind him.

The stories spread like wildfire, his team scrambling to reshape the narrative, casting Heidi as the cold, unfeeling spouse who couldn't handle his demons. They painted her as the villain, accusing her of rejecting him for his vices - after all, she knew who she married - all the while conveniently forgetting that she had stood by him through more than most people would be able to tolerate. It was an angle he wasn’t happy with; He may have been hedonistic but he wasn’t cruel. In the interest of giving her space and avoiding any additional negative attention sent her way, he moved out. He kept an apartment closer to town, and staying there made it that much easier to avoid any reminders of his failures.

The word on the poor, dejected husband had spread, causing every asshole he ran into tonight to look at him with the same pathetic, sympathetic expression. He resented their pity. He resented this party, this club, his obligation to be seen holding some stupid bottle of cologne in order to maintain his career. The four whiskies he'd downed had done little to numb him from it, and even the lines he'd snorted on the way over had failed to dull the edges of this evening.

You’d stumbled in about an hour ago, perching yourself in the booth across from his own. Your eyelids were heavy in a familiar way, his dirtbag instincts making him suspect you’ve popped a painkiller in addition to whatever you’ve been drinking. A group of giggly, hungry hangers-on swarmed around your table like flies, posing for pictures and parting only to let bottle service in and out.

Dieter knew you - or at least, he knew of you. The cute little starlet who always popped up next to him in the tabloids. He’d seen you in enough movies and on enough billboards to recognize your face, and he’d lurked around clubs like this often enough to have seen you before. Before you’d walked in, he’d resigned himself to an armchair as far back in the VIP section as he could find, determined to wait out the evening before bringing home whatever model ended up in his car. The whiskey he’d been drinking was only just beginning to kick in and he didn’t fight it, leaning back and willing the time to pass faster. But you… you were interesting.

Your gorgeous legs were stretched out along the booth, climbing up to the hem of your dress, a pink silky thing he imagined he could tear off of you with the smallest amount of force. Glossy lips pouted at your phone, eyebrows furrowed in a sweet little frustrated expression. When you looked up he didn’t look away - he kept his eyes trained on you as you looked around the room. You were looking for someone, obviously restless. A boyfriend? The thought twisted at his stomach uncomfortably and he willed himself to stop watching you, putting his glass to his mouth and draining it with a single swallow.

“Bravo!” a voice bellowed from his left, snapping him out of it. Clint - some hack from Elysium Fragrances and tonight’s designated narc waved enthusiastically from the booth next to him. “You gonna sit there and fuckin’ mope all night, bro?”

Fuck this guy. Like most of his brand-approved chaperones, he was content to accept the babysitting opportunity and spend the evening running up Dieter’s tab and shamelessly hitting on the girls at his table. The least he could do would be to leave him the fuck alone.

His attention returned to you when he heard a commotion from your direction. There you were, knees buckled, held at your elbow by one of the guys surrounding your booth. A couple of cell phone cameras lift and snap photos behind you as you attempt to compose yourself. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you stand back up, adjusting yourself, your little dress riding up for just a moment before you smooth it back into place.

The bottle he’d finished had begun to cloud his vision, so it took him a moment to realize you were stumbling towards him, your plush lips slightly parted as you swung a bottle of tequila at your side. Despite the haze, your smile was unmistakable as you arrived at his chair. When you held up the bottle with a subtle lift of your eyebrow, he nodded in agreement.

He wasn’t entirely sure if you climbed into his lap or if you simply floated there, an ethereal presence that captivated his senses. You were such a gorgeous little thing, soft legs draping over him effortlessly, while your electric fingertips traced delicate patterns along his arms.

“Where’ve I met you before?” You slurred, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt as you settled in his lap.

You were fucked up. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. Good - he was, too. His plan had been to leave, get one of the models at his table to come home and roll over for him without much effort, but passing the evening with someone in his same state of mind would spare him from having another dull fucking conversation tonight. Plus, you were so pretty, big black pupils dilated and fixed on him beneath the lazy black fan of your eyelashes.

“You tell me,” he answered, running his finger along the rim of his glass.

Did you know who he was? He goes along with your guesses as to where you’d met before. Miami, London, the Met, whatever you said, as long as you didn’t piece together that you know him from a TV show that aired when you were still in middle school.

Music blasted through the speakers surrounding you, strobe lights flashing and highlighting flecks of glitter on your shoulders. He lifted his hand to run his finger along the thin strap of your dress as you lifted the bottle up between you and raised your eyebrows in question. He nodded, holding up his empty whiskey glass.

“Glastonbury?” You asked as you filled his glass.

“That must be it,” he agreed, knowing he hadn’t been to Glastonbury since 1995, and clinked his glass against your bottle. He watched as you took a long draw from the mouth and could see the grimace you were holding back as you squinted, your throat bobbing as you swallowed. He followed your lead, emptying his glass in three big gulps. Your eyes flitted over momentarily to the group he came with, crowded around the booth to his left, then back to him.

“You alone?” You asked him, glossy lips smirking.

“Just like you.”

You let out a knowing chuckle and leaned in closer to him, tequila and lime and smoke on your breath as it mingled with his own. The way you dragged your lower lip through your teeth had his cock twitching, the combination of the chemicals in his system and you purring in his lap like a kitten destroying any shred of inhibition he had left.

There’s an acknowledgment between people like you and Dieter. It’s one of those things that doesn’t lend itself to description, but he knew it when he saw it - in the mirror, in friends and acquaintances and enemies, in blown-up photographs on the covers of tabloids, suicides and DUIs announced in newsstands. Raw nerves covered in glitter, celebrity or civilian, death drives winning over life drives every time. He saw it in your dilated pupils and the way your thighs were rubbing together, the silk of your dress doing nothing to hide it. You’re like him, too, and most importantly, you know better than to ask why.

His hand cupped your face before he realized he’d done it and he closed the space between you, your lips soft against his the next sensation he was aware of. You tasted good, and he wanted more right away, deepening the kiss and digging his fingers into your thigh forcefully. He ran his tongue along the seam of your mouth, his own lips going numb as he licked into yours. He pulled you up to straddle him and you moved easily, hips lowering onto him immediately and settling, the lace of your panties brushing up against the thin fabric of his pants. His mouth trailed to your ear, worrying your earlobe between his teeth and guiding your hips to roll against his crotch again and again.

“You don’t give a fuck, do you?” He said, his voice low and hoarse in your ear. He knew you had the attention of his group and your own, not to mention anyone else who happened to look over, but it didn’t seem to matter to you. He knew you’d been in trouble lately - the same limelight, coming-of-age growing pains he’d been through himself several years ago - and his own instincts threatened to kick in and shield you from the excess attention.

You laughed with a shake of your head, tossing your hair over your shoulder and, without looking away from him, lifted his hand from your thigh to your lips, dragging your tongue across the length of his index finger and popping it into your mouth.

Oh, you were fun. You were already making him hard, and he knew you could feel it as you grinded into him again and again, letting his finger drop from your mouth when he pressed his lips back to yours. He needed to be careful - the linen lounge pants he’d thrown on to come here would betray nothing if you kept it up much longer.

It’s a noticeable absence when you hum and pull away from the kiss, the urge for more of you rolling over him and causing his fingers to dig into your thighs possessively.

“Do you have anything… funner?” You asked, big, blown out eyes pleading as you lifted the tequila bottle up again. Aha. It just so happened he did - a baggie of coke he’d brought along just in case sat in his pocket, along with two tabs of acid. It didn’t seem like that kind of night, though, at least not yet. He’d stick with the coke.

“I might have something,” he replied, a genuine smirk spreading across his face for the first time that evening. He sat up straight, smacking your ass and biting your jawline at the same time, the yelp it pulled from you quickly transforming into a wild giggle and sending a rush of blood to his cock as he peppered kisses and bites down your neck to your collarbone.

Quickly, he helped you to your feet and guided you through the crowded room, following you across the floor, his index finger linked with your pinky, prying eyes and pointing fingers meaningless to the both of you. You may have been stumbling, but you were confident. Or at least not at all concerned. A camera phone at the bar flashed and Dieter instinctively ducked his head, moving a hand to your hip to rush you forward and out of sight.

Tucking into a hallway at the back of the club, he kicked a door open and hurried you inside a small, dark room. It was clearly an employee restroom, high piles of backstocked paper towels and toilet paper toppling over when he pushed you up against the wall harshly, his hands cupping your face, the cool metal of his rings pressed against your cheek.

He pulled a pink baggie out of his shirt pocket, opened it and tapped a bump of white powder out onto the skin between his thumb and index finger. He held it up to your nose and, without any question about what it was, where he got it or if he’d already tried it, you’d inhaled, one hand holding his steady while the other held your nostril closed.

Fucking finally. Your head lit up immediately with euphoria and relief as the amphetamines rushed through your system and you melted against Dieter as he lifted you to perch you on a stack of cardboard boxes.

You let him move you like a rag doll, smiling as he propped you back and tapped out two more bumps onto your chest and snorted them, running your fingers through his messy curls as he dragged his tongue along your cleavage, licking up what was left.

His lips found yours again, and the pungent taste of the powder on his tongue mingling with his taste drew you in closer. Looping your arm around his neck, your free hand clutched his bicep. The acrid taste turned pleasantly tingly on your tongue, a numbness spreading as it explored his mouth.

“Here, baby,” he urged, breaking the kiss breathlessly, and you hummed in response as he tapped out another bump on the back of his hand. You inhaled it again, then he used his finger to gather the remnants of the powder. Cupping your cheek firmly, your jaw relaxed under his touch as he rubbed the excess powder into your gums. You reacted instantly, closing your eyes and drawing his finger deeper into your mouth, succumbing to the rush of sensation.

He groaned in approval, your lips already open when he kissed you again, drawing him in for more, thighs parting to wrap your legs around him. The flimsy strap of your dress fell off your shoulder, the fabric across your chest following shortly after.

Blissfully content with the relief of the chemicals rushing into your bloodstream for the first time today, you went numb, rolling your head back and watching patterns dance behind your eyelids. You allowed Dieter to touch and move you at his will, his hands skillfully brushing the other strap of your dress off your shoulder, exposing your chest completely. A throaty moan escaped him at the sight, the gentle sway of your breasts moving with the rhythm of the rough push of his hips into yours. He drew you closer, his lips finding purchase on your skin. Roughly latching onto you, he drew your breast into his mouth, his tongue drawing circles around the peak of your nipple before switching to the other side of your chest.

Sparks shot down your spine and your mind went blank for a second, lost in the feeling of him against you, the synapses in your brain firing and lighting up. You snapped back into the moment when you felt him grasp your hand with his own, his fingers intertwined with yours. He guided you down to press your hand into his crotch, grinding the firm length of himself into your hold again and again.

A soft moan escaped your lips, surrendering to the warmth and pressure of his body against yours. You tightened your grip around his neck, allowing yourself to fully yield to his control, your body pliant and responsive to his every move.

You’d fuck him, you figured, as you moved against him. He was good looking - now that you were feeling a little less edgy, you could appreciate it. Corinne would kill you if word got out, but he seemed like someone who knew a thing or two about discretion. He stiffened even more as he firmly thrusted into the cradle of your hand and you cupped your fingers around his length, the soft fabric of his pants allowing you to feel him completely. You walked your fingers up to his waistband, nails dipping under the fabric and pulling at it slightly. You’d go home with him. Whatever. You’d bring Natalie with you and you could leave by morning. He probably wouldn’t even notice a missing gram or two.

You followed the thought as he trailed kisses up your chest and neck, finally settling at your ear. His hand rose up your thigh, thick fingers dragging along the lace fabric at your center. The bundle of nerves there erupted at his touch and your thighs instinctively squeezed around him.

“Let me taste you, baby, please,” He growled just above a whisper into your ear. You arched your back into his arms, moaning and nodding in agreement, the cool porcelain of the sink underneath you causing your skin to goosebump as your dress rode up further. You opened your eyes, peeking at the chestnut brown curls, the color blending into the dark room surrounding you. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you fought to keep them open, wanting to stay present with him. But the warmth of his breath against your skin and the gentle touch of his fingers on your cheeks were lulling you somewhere else. You felt like you were floating, your vision blurred at the edges and you fluttered your eyes shut again, feeling his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and stall there for a moment.

Your fading in and out like that threatened to spook him away. You couldn’t be too fucked up. He lightly tapped your cheeks a couple of times, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Stay with me, baby," he whispered urgently. "Gotta hear you say it."

“Mmmm,” Dazed, faraway eyes looked up at him, your blown-out pupils mirroring his own. You nodded again, dragging your teeth along your bottom lip. Your pulse raced between your legs, and you felt your hips moving towards him, trying to ride something that wasn’t there yet. “Do it, Dieter, please.”

There we go. He smirked, lifting you from the stack of boxes to push you up against the wall and sinking to his knees. He bunched up the fabric of your dress at your hips, roughly pulling your panties down your legs, the black fabric hanging loosely at one ankle as he lifted your leg to hang over his shoulder.

You shrieked when he slid his tongue through your folds, your knee buckling when he repeated the motion, his strong hands moving up to your hips to support you. His tongue pushed wide against you, him tasting and exploring you as his fingers dug into your hips with bruising force.

He felt fucking amazing. You typically hated when men touched you, especially when you were high, but he felt incredible. You’d give him anything. Despite your rapidly dulling senses, the feeling of his tongue working your clit back and forth was at the front of your mind. He pushed his tongue wide against you again and again, fucking two thick fingers up into you without warning.

You gasped, your mouth opening wide as you root your fingers into his hair to ground yourself. He wanted to wreck you completely, to smear the dark makeup around your eyes and watch that glossy mouth of yours stretch around his cock. His lips locked around your clit, and as the blood rushed to the bundle of nerves there you threw your head back, chest heaving, loud, wretched moans spilling from your throat.

With your senses dulled, he knew it’d take a little more to send you over the edge. A third finger pushed into you with a stretch, starting slow and working up to get in and out of your tight, soaked cunt. You moved your hips to match his rhythm, your pace hiccuping as he began working you faster and faster, working your clit between his teeth with a pinch.

Your moans were frantic, hitching higher and higher as he confidently worked you towards an orgasm, your surroundings blurring and swirling around you.

THUD, THUD, THUD. Just as you neared your release, a loud pounding at the door shattered the moment.

He groaned in frustration, pausing briefly before attempting to resume. You struggled to regain your focus, your chest heaving with heavy breaths, nerves coiled tightly at your core.

The knock was followed by a muffled argument and the clanking of keys from the other side of the door. Reluctantly, Dieter's head emerged from between your thighs.

“Fucking assholes,” Dieter grumbled in frustration as he stood up, moving the straps of your dress back up your shoulders and quickly adjusting himself. You steadied yourself with a hand on his shoulder as you pulled your panties back up, frustration pounding angrily between your legs.

“Find me, alright?” He breathed, smoothing out your dress, his hand lingering on your ass and eyes slowly moving up your body. “I’ll take you home.”

You nodded as the door was thrown open, the bright, white light of a flashlight shining into the small room. You stood up straight, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror and sneakily grabbing the small, plastic baggie Dieter left on the counter, hiding it in your fist behind your back.

“Let’s go. Knock this shit off,” a voice bellowed from behind the light, which darted back and forth between you and Dieter. “We’re not doing this in my fucking club, get the fuck out, let’s go!”

“What the fuck is this?” Dieter asks, moving to stand in front of you and block you from the bright light.

“I’m sorry, man, I tried to stop him,” Another voice followed from outside the room. You squinted and peeked over Dieter’s shoulder, annoyance showing on your face. A large bald man in a suit held the flashlight and to his right was the small, douchey-looking guy you recognized from Dieter’s booth. Natalie’s head popped up behind the both of them, looking relieved to have found you.

“You’re not doing drugs on my floor and fucking little girls in my bathroom. That’s it, Bravo. Get the fuck out of here, let’s go,” the angry man repeated. Dieter raised his hands and murmured an apology to you as he shuffled out, one hand poised defensively in front of his face. He pushed out of the room past Natalie, her brows furrowed at him in confusion as he passed. His counterpart flocked to his side, immediately rushing into what sounded like a flurry of explanations and reassurances. Natalie slid into the room smoothly, wrapping an arm around you to usher you out. You stumbled at her side, annoyed and disoriented.

“I’m TWENTY-TWO, ASSHOLE!” You screamed at the man with the flashlight, attempting to shove him with your balled-up fists. He raised his eyebrows, bald head wrinkling and frown deepening. Natalie pulled you away from him quickly and you could hear her apologize behind you. “Don’t tell’um sorry, Nat, ’m not fucking sorry, I was in the fucking bathroom!” you slurred, your voice disjointedly raising and lowering in pitch.

“C’mon, babe, let’s go,” Natalie urged you.

“Yeah, ’s get the fuck outta here,” you agreed, stumbling as she shepherded you out. She handed you your purse and you quickly shoved your hand inside, dropping the half-empty baggie into the side pocket. One or two flashing lights from the crowd gathered at the bar stole your attention for a moment, but it quickly returned to the big, bald, interrupting gorilla with the flashlight. “This place SUCKS!” you screamed as you began to turn back towards him, leashed by Natalie’s grip around your arm.

“Let’s go,” she repeated firmly. You followed her through the crowded bar, stomping across the floor and ignoring the unending stream of heads turning towards you. The two of you shoved out the heavy metal doors of the club, clicking and flashbulbs immediately erupting around you as the cool evening air breezed across your skin. Your name was shouted from your left and right as Natalie dug in her bag for the valet ticket.

“Having fun tonight?” A photographer asked. You rolled your eyes. “Alright, over here, honey,” the same voice continued. With a resigned sigh, you turned to offer a practiced pose, your mind ticking through your media training despite how fucking annoyed you were. Stumbling a couple of times as you attempted to maintain your balance, you moved through a lazy pose or two. You knew the routine - let them get their shot and maybe they'll back off.

“Partying tonight?” Another voice interjected. Moron.

Natalie finally located the ticket and the valet handed the keys over immediately, your car already parked and waiting curbside. Impulsively, you decided you’d drive, intercepting the keys before Natalie could take them and nearly smacking them out of the attendant’s hand before stumbling towards the vehicle.

“She’s not getting in the driver’s seat. No way,” reasons the voice of a man with a video camera to your left. “There’s no way!”

Another blinding eruption of flashing lights emerged around you. You stared down at your feet as you stumbled forward, trying to see where you were walking through the relentless assault of flashbulbs. Natalie called out your name from behind you. You struggled a couple of times with the handle before throwing the car door open heavily.

“Hey, you can’t drive, honey,” Another voice called out. You rolled your eyes.

You climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, exhaling loudly as the noise of the chaos surrounding you finally muffled. Flashing lights continued, your windshield now completely blocked by cameras. The volume raised again for a moment, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks, as Natalie scrambled into the passenger seat beside you.

“Are these people serious,” you asked, angling your head in towards Natalie and shielding your eyes from the barrage of flashbulbs pointed at you, frustration mounting with each flash. “How’m I supposta drive when they’re fucking blocking me?”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t.” Natalie said, concern in her voice. “Let me, okay?”

You shook your head adamantly. “’M not going back out there.”

“So climb over,” She suggested.

“Not in this!”

Natalie let out an exasperated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her thighs.

“Hey, since when do you know Dieter Bravo?” She asks, momentarily changing the subject.

“Who? Oh,” you replied, the question registering with you once you answered. The reminder of him sent your attention between your legs and you shifted slightly in your seat. “I dunno. I know’hm from an awards thing.” You offered. It was an unconvincing lie, but Natalie didn’t fight you on it.

“He’s so random,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you hooked up with him. I think my older sister had a poster of him in high school. Right next to River Phoenix.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, everything about this evening now pissing you off. The incessant clicking of the paparazzi's cameras only added fuel to the fire, and you narrowed your eyes in irritation, slamming your hand down on the horn for a solid ten seconds in a futile attempt to disperse them.

“MOVE!” you yelled, only inciting more flashing lights.

“Let me drive, babe,” Natalie tried again.

“Oh, my god, fuck this,” you snapped, frustration finally boiling over. With your hand still shielding your eyes, you shifted the car into drive. “You're my eyes now.”

“What?! No!” She replied, her voice rising in panic.

“Be my eyes. I’m going.” You repeated. Very slowly, you eased your foot off the brake, the car beginning to inch forward. Voices clamored outside the vehicle.

“Oh my god, um, okay. Go slow. Turn left. Slow!” Natalie began to guide you. The crowd cautiously parted around the car, photographers scrambling to avoid being flattened while still unwilling to sacrifice this shot. “Oh my god, this is so stupid. Slow, slow, slow.”

“They’re fuckin’ stupid! What am I supposed to do?”

“No, yeah, okay, just slow, keep going left.” Natalie's voice trembled slightly as she continued to navigate. The relentless barrage of flashing lights illuminated the interior of the car, casting everything in stark, blinding brightness. “Okay, cut it! Cut it and keep going straight.”

You cut the wheel to the right and straighten it out, cautiously peeking through the gaps in your fingers to confirm you'd cleared the throng of photographers.

“Haha!” you exclaimed, your laughter echoing through the tense air as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor once the street ahead is clear. With a screech of tires, you peel off into the night, Natalie's nervous chuckles mingling with your own laughter. “Bye, assholes!”

You rocketed down Highland with reckless abandon. A couple of familiar vehicles creeped up behind you - regular photographers who paid their bills by stalking you. The driver to the left’s hand hung out the window, a digital camera pointed squarely at you. The light was yellow at the intersection in front of you and you smirked, not letting up on the gas and rolling your window down to flip off the camera as you raced through the intersection just as the light turned red.

“Slow down!” Natalie yelled, panicked, her hand clutching the door handle in a white-knuckled grip. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?! These guys are the ones with the problem,” you fired back, your tone frustrated. “I can’t do anything without getting fucking cornered!” Your car veered dangerously across the yellow lines and Natalie yelped. You overcorrected, the vehicle lurching back into its lane just in time to avoid a collision with an oncoming car, its horn blaring in warning. Natalie’s body stiffened further in her seat as you took a wide right turn onto Sunset. You turn on the radio, a Rihanna song picking up midway through.

“Did he give you something?” she shouted, her tone urgent. You furrowed your brow, shooting her a confused look. “Dieter,” she clarified.

“Oh, right!” you exclaimed, mood shifting as you suddenly remembered the baggie tucked in your purse. “Look what I got us!” You reached for your bag on the passenger floorboard, swerving again. Natalie lunged across the seat, her hands fumbling for the wheel to correct your course, while a chorus of horns blared from the vehicles behind you. Finally retrieving your purse, you fished out the baggie from the side pocket and held it up between your fingers for Natalie to inspect. She grabbed it from you quickly, examining it in her lap.

“What is it?” She asked. You shrugged.

“Coke, I think. Shit, hold on,” you floored the gas to race through another newly red light.

“Stop!” Natalie shrieked. “This is so fucking stupid, dude, let me drive!”

“Jesus, Nat, fine,” you groan, slamming on the brakes. You both jolted forward as the car came to a stop in the middle of the road. “You wanna drive so bad, fine.”

You unlocked the car doors, opening yours slightly and reaching down to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Are you serious?” She scoffed, disbelief etched across her features as she surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding around you. You nodded in affirmation, a defiant smirk playing on your lips. “You’re such a bitch.”

With a surge of stubborn adrenaline, you stormed out onto Sunset Boulevard, Natalie following suit. The gray Honda belonging to one of the persistent photographers tailed you, coming to a halt beside you as the driver scrambled out, camera at the ready.

“LEAVE ME ALONE” you shouted. “I gave you your shot at the club, I’ve been nice to you guys, what more do you want?!”

You considered what it would take to get him to go away. Words weren’t working. Should you kick his car? Throw something? You began to stumble towards him, interrupted by Natalie yelling your name again. You turned around to see Natalie standing in the street, gaze fixed on the intersection ahead. Your car - which you apparently failed to put into park - was rolling into the intersection on its own.

With a frantic surge of panic, you and Natalie sprinted after the runaway vehicle, the strobe of camera flashes behind you incessant. Arms flailing, you both desperately signaled to other drivers to stop, your heels clattering against the pavement as you raced towards the car.

As the car veered left, you were powerless to stop it from crashing into a parked BMW at the corner. Rushing to catch up, you flung yourself into the open driver's door, slamming on the brakes and throwing the gear into reverse. You leaned across the cab to fling the passenger door wide open.

“Come on!” You shouted at Natalie as she climbed back into the car. With a tense exhale, you navigated the car backward, turning wide in the intersection before screeching forward.

Your mind was completely clear with pure adrenaline. You were only a few blocks away from the hotel now, the castle-shaped outline shrouded in trees just ahead on your right. You floored it, a tense silence hanging in the car, both you and Natalie’s eyes locked forward on the road in front of you.

Only slowing down to make a right turn into the hotel driveway, you didn’t bother waiting for the valet. Tossing your keys onto the driver’s seat, you left the door ajar as you stormed through the garage toward your room, ready to put this evening behind you.

#blind item #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo x reader #putting this out into the world and definitely also shitting bricks

41 notes · View notes

white-00-7 · 19 hours

Text

The fallen

Lucifer x reader

( after Adam died)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It was a regular day in the hazbin hotel. Charlie was doing redemption exercise with Angel Dust. Nifty was running everywhere to dust the place up, Vaggie was close to Charlie to help her , Alastor was in his chair as in the lobby could be heard a soft jazz song. Lucifer was in his apple tower. His room and workshop when all of the sudden a bright light illuminate his room and a crash sound outside the hotel making it to tremble a little.

When thwy all go outside to see what happened they see 2 angels fighting. One was an exterminator the other was strange. Her wings were a fuze of colors as the univers with stars, her black hair as the night was tied in loose braid. She was dressed in a royal blue dress that was covered in purple armor. She had a spear next to her but she was using her fists to fight that angel. She was speaking in a language that made then wonder what is she talking about. Even Lucifer haven't heard it before. After she threatened the angel she took their halo and broke it in her hands then get up and throw then away as they angel flow to the portal to heaven the one with wings of a galaxy was screaming at them something that was like swears and threats. After the portal close she sigh then took her own halo and look at it. Then in a fit of rage she broke hers to. She turn around to see demons in front of a building and took her spear and point it at them.

"Cine sunteți? De ce va uitați așa la mine?" (Who are you? Why are you guys looking at me that way) she speaks in that strange language again. Charlie come closer the the angel and ask her "Are you ok? You look hurt....your bleeding". The angel look at her smile as she understood what language to use to speak with them. "Hello. Yes I am good. But I want to ask you if you could show me the way to Charlie Morningstar? I heard that she can help me in a way to accept that I'm in hell. But first to tell you my name." She bows softly but with elegance. "My name is Y/n. I am the angel of galaxy. First to be created by the God and the last. Queen of dreams and hope and protector of balance".

Y/n pov:

'They are looking at me like I'm some kind of ghist or something. Hell. It is because of my wings?' She thought and hide her wings in her back. The girl with red circles on her cheeks and a big smile looks like an angel....is she the daughter of my little morningstar? "Hi my name is Charlie. Why don't you come in and let us help you patch up? I think you have a story to tell and maybe you will want to stay here" she said and approach y/n and she accepted Charlie hand. She made her spear disappear then walk into the hotel followed by the rest. Charlie sat her down on the couch as the rest sit around to listen.

"Ok so as I said I am y/n. The queen of dreams and hopes and protector of balance. I was the first and last angel of galaxy that God created. To protect humans by all kinds of threats from space like asteroids or black holes, to put stars on the night sky for them and to go to the dreams realm to fight with the nightmares who terorise humans. Being just me I dress differently as you all can see. I like white but my skin is already made of moon light and stardust. Dress differently speak differently and think differently. They thought that I am the problem. When I find out what they did to my little morningstar when I was gone I started to ask why and to find out, but they sended me on a mission again. I came back a week ago and when I find out finally when they did with Samael then here in hell killing innocent demons I started to question then to press them to stop. I told the whole heaven what they did and finally when you guys saw me I was fighting and destroyed the exorcism. I'm sorry it took so long to come here. Truly." She looks at all of then embarrassed then at Charlie and what she thinks it was her little star. Samael but now Lucifer.

Lucifer was startled to hear his other name then look at her puzzled. Charlie had tears in her eyes but then Angel Dust spooke "What do you mean by your little morningstar?" She smiled at then and blush softly as then sigh and open her palms. A soft light that sparks with a light so beautiful that made you feel warm and comfortable. "This is what humans called the star of morning. The first star to appear on the sky and the last to go. My little morningstar. This star is under Samael name because God wanted it to be so." She looks at Lucifer and smile as he was almost in tears. She put the star away and when the light disappeared she looks at all of then then wince and cover her right side of her stomach. Gold blood was gushing out and she started to breath heavily. "C...can someone carry me to a room? Preferably at the top of this building and to stich me up? Thanks" after those words she fainted.

Third person pov:

Y/n fainted as soon as she finished talking and Lucifer caught her body in time before falling. He looks at her puzzled and feeling strange after hearing her story. He knew of her name. Never seen her before tough. He looks at Charlie and she got up and started to walk upstairs where she thinks is the best room for her new guest. Lucifer placed y/n on the bed and snap his fingers to make some pijama pants and shirt appear. She give then to Charlie and told her to call Vaggie and change her clothes and dress her wounds as he leaves the women's alone.

(Not my art)

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer

32 notes · View notes

idkfitememate · 2 days

Text

So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-

(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)

Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-

“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”

Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.

When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.

They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-

He sighed.

The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.

War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.

It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.

But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:

“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”

But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.

No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.

“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.

“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”

Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.

“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”

Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.

“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”

Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.

“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.

Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.

“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”

Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.

He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.

You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.

Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.

The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.

Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.

“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.

“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.

A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.

The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.

Your smile widened.

Archons you fucking loved your family.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Archons you fucking hated these enemies.

These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.

You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.

Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.

“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.

“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.

Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.

If only it could’ve stayed that way.

It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.

Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.

Everything went white in that eye, then black.

Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.

Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.

“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.

…

A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.

You refused to cry, because he’d live.

That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.

“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.

“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.

“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.

“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.

“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.

“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.

“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.

The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.

The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.

Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.

You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”

You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.

That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.

‘The Night Man became a God”

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.

He only looked back at you.

“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”

Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-

This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-

Дедушка - Grandfather

ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER

Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North

МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE

nouehuepo - my friend

приятель - buddy

#male reader #x male reader #Genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #male y/n #platonic #family #Childe!Grandpa!Reader #genshin impact x male reader

49 notes · View notes

king-paimon · 2 days

Text

Houseki No Kuni Chapter 108 Thoughts: Everything Stays....

Hello all. I hope the month of April was good to everyone. It was alright for me, though I'm just in awe by how fast it went! Time really goes by too quickly as you get older.

Speaking of time, would you look at that? The final chapter of Houseki no Kuni was released! 108 chapters over the course of 12 years. And I've been following it for nearly 5 of those years! Wow! That is quite the feat, Ms. Ichikawa.

I'd been waiting for this day for a long time, and the feeling is bittersweet, with the overlaying feeling of relief. This emotional rollercoaster that Ms. Ichikawa had sent us on has finally reached it's dock.

Phos's story is finally complete. What a ride it had been!

Now the question is: Was I satisfied?....

I'll do my best to answer this. I don't know how long this post will be, but I'm hoping that it won't be too long (edit: Oops. I was wrong.) And as always, please feel free share your own thoughts if you're interested!

Here we go:

Phos's True End: Was It Satisfying?

I reread this chapter a few times to answer this question and to be honest, I still reach the same conclusion: It was fitting. Not absolutely bad or 100% amazing, but in terms of Phos's whole journey throughout this story, I think this was a fitting ending for Phos, and that's good. And if anything else, it's a little ironic.

I mentioned in my last post that I thought it was funny that the remaining piece of Phos had become the youngest/newest member of the pebble species much like how they originally were at the beginning off the whole manga. It seems though, the similarities don't end there because of this little interaction between Eyeball/Pita-pat and Pebble Phos:

I'm sure this was supposed to be a little cheeky conversation and Eyeball/Pita-pat didn't really mean it. But still, this was an interesting exchange to include in this final chapter, especially right before it's implied that Eyeball/Pita-pat passed away.

One intriguing story choice Ichikawa made was having Pebble Phos continuously fall apart near the end to the point that they become a small spec. To be honest, I was not sure how to feel about this part when I first read, especially considering how now there's hardly any of Phos left now. Like, after Eyeball/Pita-pat saved that last bit of Phos so they could have a nice life away from humanity, it'd be unfair for them to break apart again to nothing after all of that. But I did like how the pebbles decided to view Pebble Phos' changes; that their fragments surely became beautiful comets that would brighten someone's day. And that shot with original Phos was nice...

Also, I saw the post that implied that Ichikawa released this final chapter around the same time that a rare famous comet was supposed to be seen on Earth. I want to say that I think it was a pure coincidence, but I'm not putting anything past this author!

This chapter made me think of that one song from Adventure Time: Everything Stays. If you haven't heard of it, please give a listen. It's a song about life and the course of change. It focuses on how even if things appear to stay the same over the course of time, changes still occur, even if subtle. Phos certainly changed a lot throughout their story through intense mind and physical altering events. But I also think they changed subtly even during the less intense moments. I think the moments in this final chapter fit with this song, too. Phos was always evolving, even when it didn't appear so. Through their interactions and lack thereof with others and their environment, Phos was always changing and growing, ever so subtly. And even in this last chapter, Phos is still evolving and that'll likely never end.

Interesting... after thinking about it some more, I think I feel a little more satisfied with how this chapter/story ended. I'm glad that Ms. Ichikawa didn't pull some other twist near the end; that certainly would have ruined it for me. Am I 100% happy with how Phos's story ended? I don't think so. But to me, it's a fitting end.

But what do I think about the series as a whole?

When The Journey Ends: Was It Worth It?

There are very few manga or written stories that had me wanting to see how things end because more often than not, there aren't that many stories that I've read to completion. Part of it is because I don't want the story to end; basically, I'd have the thought process that if I don't know how the story ends, the story doesn't end! Perfect logic (sarcasm). Though this usually happens because I lose interest or because the story goes in directions that I don't like, I'd say one of the main reasons I end up dropping a series is because of how a story ends. How a story ends can completely change one's opinion of a story, and I've seen my fair share of stories that end badly. Sometimes the ending is abrupt and not satisfying, especially if it was lead by a big build up, or the ending is a result of a jarring story pivot that seems to come out of left field. It just seems that many creators don't know how to end their story well. And if I like a story a lot, sometimes I'm too scared to see how it ends. Partially because I don't want the story to end, but mostly because I don't want the end to ruin my experience.

Houseki no Kuni is a unique case for me. I know I've mentioned this before but I'll state it again: I don't think I've ever been so invested in a story like this before. Though that investment had dwindled over time, partially due to me developing new interests, life, and being occasionally dissatisfied with certain story choices, I wanted to see this how this story would end no matter what. And now that it's done, I'm glad I stuck it out.

Was this story perfect? No. There were several story decisions that I wish was either told differently or completely omitted that could have made the story stronger in my opinion.

Did I get a too invested in this story? During certain points, most definitely haha. I remember getting very emotional about certain chapters when I first started making this series of meta posts. I remember seeing some posts from people stating that they no longer liked the manga because of the direction it was going and in some cases, I could see where they were coming from.

Do I regret getting so invested in this story? No. No I don't. Despite not liking certain story aspects, I do not regret getting invested in this story. Though the story was not perfect, this was such a unique experience that I'm grateful to have gone through.

I plan on talking more about how I feel about Houseki no Kuni as a whole in another post. I intend to delve into what I loved about it and what I wish was different. While I could include that stuff here, I think this post is long enough. I've already started working on it, but I know it'll be a while before it's done; you bet there will be some parts with me ranting a little haha

But long story short, despite some grievances I have with some parts of the story, I feel satisfied with how it ended. And I'm glad that I read this series.

What Happens Next: Thank you, HnK Fandom

I want to thank those who've read, liked, and even commented on my posts! I didn't think so many of you would like, let alone read, my longwinded messy posts. I loved every feedback I got, even the ones that didn't agree with me. You made me love being part of this niche fandom. Like I said in the previous section, I have at least one more post that I want to make detailing everything I feel about Houseki No Kuni as a whole. I might make another one that's more for fun, but we'll see. I encourage anyone who's interested to share your own thoughts on the post! I seriously love reading different perspectives.

But after those posts, I don't know how involved I'll be in the fandom afterwards. I may repost some art and other people's meta posts on occasion. But when it comes to meta commentary, these will likely be my last posts about HnK. I have other fandoms that I like to follow, though I don't make posts about them. Perhaps I will, though I know they will be nothing like the posts I've made about Houseki no Kuni. This was the only series I've ever felt compelled to analyze so deeply, which makes it special for me. If I were to post anything about the other stuff I'm into, it'll most likely be of fanart that I made for my own personal enjoyment. I know scare many of my followers away since they'll not be HnK related. But who knows? I haven't made any HnK art in a long time... Maybe one of these days, I can try to make some HnK art again. I have some unfinished pieces on my computer that's now years old. Yeah, I should finish them when I have the time. That'd be a fun little send off.

Anyhow, if you are interested, please hang around for my final HnK meta posts! And when it's out, please please PLEASE share your own thoughts in it! Don't be afraid to share your opinions. I promise I don't bite.

So that's it. These are my thoughts of the final chapter of Houseki no Kuni. I might add more to it, but I'm fine with what I put out. Wow... I still can't believe I got into this series 5 years ago! So much had changed in my life since then. Despite everything, it was worth it.

Thank you again for reading my jargon. It means a lot and I can't wait to post my true final meta posts about Houseki no Kuni.

What a ride this was.

Until next time...

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #hnk spoilers #hnk meta #lotl spoilers #hnk phos #lotl #hnk spoiler #hnk phosphophyllite #hnk manga #houseki no kuni spoilers #personal thoughts #hnk chapter 108 #phosphophillyte #phos #hnk manga spoilers #manga

44 notes · View notes

dontbesadsanaexist · 9 hours

Text

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Danceteacher!momo x Trainee!fem!reader

Warnings: bad language, mouth fucking, cunnulingus, smut, mention of sex, choking, friends?withbenefits

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Momo has always acted weird towards you. Treating you more harshly than the other trainees. But what can possibly happen in an empty building, at night, when you started to show your brat side?

Nda: sorry I suck at summarizing 🫡🫡 (I promise the story is better)

*★*―――*★**★*―――*★**★*―――*★*

"Start again."

The music coming from the speakers was loud. Your body sweaty, clothes almost drenched. A few lights illuminated the room as opposed to the dark corridors that you could only see thanks to the half-opened door. One of them was flashing.

It's okay, your agence never put in much efforts for their groups anyway, always buying the bare minimum.

Your body moved on his own, despite the obvious tiredness visible on your face. Your movements almost reached perfection but still,

There she was with her angry face.

You stopped yourself when the sounds stopped. The dance practice room went silent again. A glance at her let you know that she was the one who paused the music.

"Same mistake, start again."

Your throat almost burned by the desire to say something. It's been hours since it started. You felt like you would never see the end, because there was nothing to change. You came to thought that she had a wicked pleasure to make you stay, knowing you couldn't say anything.

She tapped on her phone's screen. You didn't have time to recover. Your ears are sick of hearing the same sounds again and again. Your eyes dared to close, but you promise your leader you would thew few mistakes you make, so you didn't let that happen. Instead, you restarted the same choreography.

A exasperated sigh left her lips as you almost trip on your own laces. It must have come undone during the training.

"Are you going to dance properly or should I already ask you manager to add hours for you at the end of every training day?"

"But I dance properly!"

Oups, came out on its own.

Your frustration and stress accumulated during the day heard in your replied. You didn't want to sound so disrespectful, but it was just too much. Watching all of your members leave just to stay here and make extra practice until you felt sweat slide down your body, no thanks you, if you could you would have gladly pass the offer.

"Excuse me?"

The next things coming out of your mouth were completely unexpected.

"Seriously, it's been like 4 hours since we started and you're still here saying there's something to fix when there obviously isn't."

At first she just seemed shocked by your sudden switch of behavior. But then, then, she aggressively slammed her phone on the table near her and tapped her right foot on the floor, corner of the lips trembling with angryness.

"Because you thought that i wanted to be here in the first place? Losing my time and sleep for a girl that can't reproduce a simple fucking dance?"

Okay, you had made her more angry that she already was.

"I never asked for extra help."

"See, that's your second problem. You need extra help. You suck at dancing. Everyone see it except you."

Ouch, it hurts. I mean, it would have hurt a lot more if it wasn't for your tiredness and growing angryness clouding your mind with thoughts you would never come across before. And you knew she was lying. She just saw you progress and had too much pride to admit that she was wrong. So now she put all the problem on your shoulders, and just expects you to go with it. That's what you thought, though.

You knew it wasn't true. But your fists clenched on their owns and your eyes watered. You weren't the sensible type but it was 10 p.m and you were just so done with it.

A thought crossed your mind, and your mouth was quicker to speak than you had time to comprehend what you were about to say.

"At least I've never been fired because I was too lazy to practice!"

She was shocked.

She definitely was.

Not by what you said, but by your sudden brattiness. You got some nerves to speak to her like that. She was at least 6 years older than you plus your dance teacher. She literally accepted to help you even though she was forced, but still. How dare you?

Something occurred. You heard an annoyed sound coming from her mouth then she walked towards you. A firm and straight walk. When she arrived at your level she didn't even dared to stop. She just grabbed your wrist, and dragged you with her.

She was walking way too fast. You were struggling to keep up the pace.

The entire building was empty. And since Momo had turned the lights of the room off you were both moving in the dark with, as only lighting, the flash coming from her phone. You soon arrived at a sliding door. You quickly read the inscription marked on it.

Bathroom, ladies only.

She forced you in it and harshly closed the door, creating a loud thump resonating inside.

"What are we doing here?" You dared to ask. She tilted her head to the side as if the respond was obvious.

"Do you think the way you talked to me back earlier was appropriate? Don't you think you need a little something to remind you that I am the idol here, that you're nothing but a trainee?"

She took you by the shoulders and made you enter an empty stall.

You were surely about to protest, if it wasn't for her to push you roughly on the wall. You let out a small whimper of pain and you hand came resting on you back where the impact has been made.

(You see, if anyone ever read that without context, they will surely be confused as to why she was so comfortable with touching you this way, if you were a trainee like the others. But the thing is, you weren't. To her eyes, you weren't just a simple trainee.

Let me explain:

The relationship that you and Momo shared was beyond weird. Everything started in the manager's office. You didn't even remember what you were doing here, nor how it happened. But one second, you were with momo waiting for him to arrive, and the next, your were against the desk, kissing her.

At first, it was simple make outs. In the bathroom or an empty closet, she was usually the one who initiated them. But then, it started to take a more serious turn. You would find yourself in her apartment when Nayeon was away. Or sometimes it was at your dorm (which was very risky but you both didn't care).

The first hook up was supposed to be the last one, in your head. That's what you told yourself at the end of every session. But she always finds a way to make you fall in her trap. I mean, who can resist the gorgeous and hot woman that Momo is?

The excuses that you would tell the girls from you dorm to go out were piling up, and the minutes spending with Momo were gradually transformed into hours. Hours of doing nothing but pure fucking.

But of course, you were coming after her career. That's why in Jyp's buildings, she was ignoring you. Like, completely ignoring you. She didn't even bother to throw a single glance at you. You understand how she remained clinging to her image, even though you were a bit disappointed that you were traited like any other trainee.

The only thing you didn't understand was the way she acted when you make a mistake. With the other girls from your group, she would just show them the correct movement. But with you, she would just look at you, and expect you to get the right move on your own. And when you didn't, it frustrated her. To a point where she would be so irritated she would just complains about you to your manager, as if it was your fault. And right now, it was one of those moment. But instead of calling the number she knows so well from you, she decided to take care of the problem on her own.)

You jaw ached when she grabbed it firmly to make you look at her. "So, what are you gonna do know hm? Are you gonna keep responding ? I can let you go if you politely apologize to me."

You looked at her dead in the eyes. You could apologize. But you're certainly not going to do that. She irritated you too much and you weren't going to let go of your pride.

"Go to hell." Your respond left even though she pressed your cheeks together making difficult for you to talk. Your hands tried to push her arm away, and that only made her grip on you stronger, to the point it started to hurt. Like really hurt.

She huffed as she expected an apoligize. She didn't think for you to put such an attitude towards her. Usually, you would obey her every command, like the good little trainee you were. This, this was none of that. And she didn't like it.

Your eyes landed on her other hand, which was going way too close to your face to your liking. Then, you felt two of her fingers pressing against your lips. You immediately sealed your mouth, without even knowing what she was going to do next. Of course, you could just submit to her, like always. But your pride was way too big for that.

"Open your mouth."

Her command felt harshful. You tried to shock your head as no, but she didn't take that as a respond. She forced past your entrance and the next thing you know, two of her fingers were deep in your mouth, almost reaching your throat.

Now your hands were desesperatly trying to get her grip off of you. You felt her fingers retired completely, just to push back in with full force.

And in continued like this.

Her digits reaching the far back of your throat.

Her breathing on your ear made you close your eyes tightly. "Isn't that a good idea? Fucking your mouth will make you learn how to shut it like how it's supposed to be."

Her deep chuckle when she heard you chocke send a shiver down your spine.

Each time her fingers would push in, spit would dripped down your mouth making a complete mess on your chin and neck.

It felt like hours before her mistrations stopped, which left you caughing with a hand rubbing your aching throat.

Momo smiled at your state. Her fingers were covered in your drool, almost reaching her wrist. She took you aback when she pushed your shoulders on the wall, her fingers replaced with her lips.

Your whines of rejection could be heard in the room which weren't really of rejection but you couldn't let her know she turned you on. Your nails digged them self on her shoulders to try and hurt her. But she didn't care really. A little girl like you isn't going to do much against her anyway.

She kissed you deeply, swallowing your whines and parting your lips. Just like before, you felt something slipping in your mouth. A wet, warm thing.

The feeling of her tongue against your own made you release a small whimper. The kiss left you breathless and panting, like every time you were alone with her.

"Enjoying it?" She teased you, but it wasn't funny for you. Your mouth opened to say something but she beat you to it.

"I didn't think you would be such a brat today. What happened to my good girl? That attitude you pulled me earlier has put you in so many troubles..."

She didn't let you respond. She never. Her hand wrapped around you neck and you felt a pressure on your throat, choking you a bit.

"How should I punish you? I've got so many ideas in mind..."

Okay, now your body was... betraying you.

A sudden wave of heat arose in your body at the thought of her touches. You didn't want to let her notice that the way she talked to you made your panties soaked, but at the same time the ache between your legs was starting to be bothering. You refused the thought of taking care of the problem yourself later in your bed. Her doing it for your was a better idea. And you know what, fuck it.

Your hands stopped trying to get her away from you, and instead, grab her waist and brought her closer. Momo looked at you with a confuse look. Your behavior was indeed weird.

"What it is n-"

"Kiss me"

Your request was followed by a small please that even you could barely hear. Her lips slowly turned into a smile, and she was quick to catch your mouth with her own. The previous painful pressure on your neck feels now deliciously pleasuring

The kiss felt even better than the one before now that you fully enjoy it. Her rosy lips that you would stare at so many times were now moving against yours, creating a delicious pressure.

"Didn't you want to punish me or something ?" You dared to ask her as your bratness was showing again.

"Just shut up please."

The wet sounds of lips touching each other echoed in the purple bathroom stall, such as small sighs of pleasure. You two would parted away from time to time, getting the minimum of oxygen in your lungs before diving into the other's warmth again.

Before everything started, a kiss from her would've been enough to make you melt in place. But now you had all freedom to do whatever you wanted, and your fingers tingled with the desire of more. Your hand slipped on the skin of her neck to her nape, before being stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.

Momo pushed her lips away from yours. A string of saliva connected your mouths for barely a second. She was glad to see her lipstick embellished the lower part of your face, the color suited you better, especially with those swollen lips of yours.

She observered you.

How your would bite your bottom lip, cheeks blushed by the lack of air. How your carbage would move up and down, breathlessly. The way you were shamlessly eye-fucking her, thigh clenching together. God, what a sigh.

The succeed in making you go from a brat to a mess had increased her ego. Her hand wandered around your face, thumb caressing your bottom lip and slightly playing with it. Her lips touched your cheeks, and traveled lower. The hand she wasn't holding immediately attached to her hair and pulled her locks as soon as you felt her warm breath on your neck. Of course everybody would be able to see all the marks she leaves on you, but she didn't care really. It's not like she's the one who is risking a futur career.

You sighed blissfully as she bit your neck, making your nails dig into her skull. Her hands were quick to undo your sweat pants, sliding it down and making you shiver from the cold air due to the lack of heating in the building. She tugged your T-shirt up and stuck it in your bra, not even bothering to remove it.

"Oh, look at this." Momo rapidly noticed the wet spot on your panties that you were desperately trying to hide, even though you couldn't.

She hummed in satisfaction and brushed her fingers softly against the frabric, before pulling it harshly towards her. The sudden movement made you yelp as you hands pushed her shoulders, but she was way stronger, and the grip she had on your thighs stopped you from whatever you were trying to do.

"Let's do this. I'm gonna eat you out. If you cum before I say you can it'll be the last time for 2 weeks, okay?" She asked, which basically wasn't even a question but more of an order.

Her being so bold had definitely done something to you. You nodded your head, wanting her to hurry up and ease the feeling you had that started to overwhelm you. She dropped a small peck on your lips, making your dizzy, and proceeded to kneel down. One swift movement and your panties were gone, letting her a full view of your dripping arousal. She placed your legs on her shoulders and her hands on your waist for support. That position could be quiet uncomfortable but not for Momo, thanks to the hours spending at the gym she found you rather light.

You whined as the only friction she gave you was marking you thighs.

"Momo don't do t-" Momo glaring at you was enough to shut you up and take whatever she wanted to give you. You're not in a position to protest anything, and she was already furious at you for thinking you could talk back.

She continued kissing your flesh for a minute, before her breath change place and she blew hot air on your wet crotch. You tried to squirm but couldn't move much because of the hard grip she had on your waist. Another whine almost came out of your throat, until you felt the tip of her tongue against your folds and instead you whimpered her name. Your hand gripped the toilet paper dispenser. The edges of it were rounded so you couldn't really hold on to it but it was still better than nothing.

Momo took your clit between her lips and slowly suck it. Your eyes closed instantly as you felt the pleasure starting to consume you. Her touch were so gentle it was almost torturing. Your body enveloped in a warmth that increased your desire for more. As if they had come to life, your thighs started to buck against Momo's mouth. It was miserable how you were practically rutting on her face.

Momo release your clit from her lips and let her tongue travel lower, until it was right in front of your entrance. Your hand grabbed her hair as soon as you felt her tongue slip inside of you. "S-shit Momo... Momo!" You chanted, too focused on the way she was moving, tasting you, to care about your volume.

Her hands withdrew from your waist to grab your thigh instead, guiding you on her tongue. Your hand runs through her dark hair. You attempted to push her even closer, even deeper inside you.

The flick of her tongue against that one particular spot made your hand involuntarily grasp her hair fiercely. She released a deep groan in your core at the death grip you had on her, creating vibrations that ascended up your mouth and turned into a loud sob.

Your walls clenched firmly around her tongue, your clit throbbing continually as the tip of her nose pressed against it.

You opened your eyes all of a sudden as you felt that your climax was near. Your stomach tighten, you knuckles turned white at the hold you had on the dispenser. When you looked down, you saw a version of Momo only you could (probably) ever see.

Her eyes were tight shut. Her mouth and chin covered with your arousal. Her rosy cheeks could suggest that she was the one having an orgasm. You bet she was enjoying it as much as you do.

She reopened her eyes, meeting your pleading gaze. "Please..." was the only thing understandable you could let out between broken cries and incoherent words. You were at the verge of crying. Your orgasm was just so closed.

Momo didn't seem to be affected by your desperate state. Because as soon as she felt your legs started trembling she pushed her head away, leaving you all confused and bothered. She wiped the mess you made on her face with her sleeve and stood up.

You have returned to an almost normal state when she turned the lock of the bathroom stall's door open.

"W-wait Momo y-you said-"

"I said I would allow you to cum if I felt like it. Which I don't really. So... Guess it's for next time?"

She stepped out of the stall and took a last look at your condition. You were on the floor, eyes watered, cheeks wet and red. She gave you a brief smirk before adding one last thing. "If you're not in the dance room in 10 minutes, I'll let your manager know about your very, very, bad behavior."

She was now completely gone. You were crying, sobbing and sniffing in your arms. She left you all alone, leaving you just enough time to put your clothes back on. This was so unfair. You did everything she told you to. She was ruthless! She took time to build up your pleasure just to leave at the end, making the denied orgasm even more painful.

You were too tired to keep crying, and also a bit afraid of Momo's threat. So you just stood up, cleaned yourself and get yourself dress again. Half an hour left before you could head back to your dorm. And it promised to be long...

*★*―――*★**★*―――*★**★*―――*★*

#Twice #Momo #Smut #Jyp #Nayeon #Sana #Tzuyu #Jihyo #Jeongyeon #Chaeyoung #Mina #Dahyun #momo smut #Top!Momo #😵‍💫😵‍💫

37 notes · View notes

ashesbreadandbutter · 2 days

Note

I've got one: an Adam that can SEE soulmates. He grins nastily as he takes a GOOD LONG look at Alastor and SMIRKS "Vox, huh? You love him, hmm? I can see it written right on your disgusting soul Al-ass-tor. Annnnd even better he's your soulmate. I kill him, I cause you unimaginable pain and suffering for eternity without touching you." And then he takes off, leaving Lute and his army to take care of the hotel--who HEARD HIM to search for Vox.

The Vees are in full out panic mode, of course. They have no idea what to do. Vox say he can carry both Val and Vel through the electricity but they need a location to go too--abd the vacation home is too far, he doesn't have the juice.

Valentino is pissed at Vox for being Alastor's soulmate, and panicking about the certain death heading their way.

Velvette doesn't care: "Take us as far as you can to the vacation home and we can steal a car!"

Alastor is RAGING. How DARE that pompous f-wit threaten what is HIS?!? (Although he is pleased Adam did announce Vox was his too all of Hell. Now no one would dare try to date Vox after he killed the moth.)

(Feel free to use :3)

Thank you anon because I definitely WILL be taking this.

No really this is good, honestly you anons are helping write the best voxal fanfic with me as well speak. I think after I finish my current writing coms today then I'll start on this story. It honestly sounds really fun and I'm a bit of a slow burn kinda gal with a passion for angst so this is definitely up my alley.

The idea of Adam coming in? Mwah!

Like imagine the way Alastor freezes the moment Adam says that stuff about going after Vox and especially before Vox finds himself having to defend the vees. Bro doesn't even know what's going on at first and that he's basically one of the reasons it's happening. Imagine his shock if Alastor does hunt him down before the angels get there, both confusion AND relief showing on his face just to see Alastor. Though there's also annoyance.

"ugh! I could have handle a few angels Alastor!" He growls after Alastor grabs them after fighting and imagine something like after Alastor saves them he and Vox are having this argument just for Vox to stop when it seems Alastor did in fact take some damage.

"a few isn't tons Vox." Alastor would most like his back while cradling a wound and Vox might as well be the one to help him clean it up, matter of fact he has too because everyone is rather fearful of the pair. Alastor doesn't want anyone to deal with the wound like a stubborn dog unless it's Vox and this could leave them a lot of time just to sit with each other. It's silent as Vox carefully cleans his wounds, gentle and careful not to do anything that would hurt even more and then as he's looking over Alastor's body he'll glare at nothing halfheartedly, brows burrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"why'd you do something so stupid?" He'll ask and I can see Alastor's ear twitching. Vox basically asks him what's his problem. Why'd he go out there to fight so many angels and over HIM of all people? He's both flattered and a bit unnerved.

If Alastor really did all that to help him then maybe he SHOULD go back to the hotel just to keep an eye on Alastor's healing though maybe it's just a way to get closer because though Vox being Alastor's soul mate is life changing on his own, knowing and seeing Alastor after such a fight and touching his wounds really manages to draw Vox in. Like he wants to be with Alastor in the same bed and everything as he heals.

I wanna say Alastor will heal with no issue but imagine a case where he doesn't. Where the angel blades hold off his healing for just long enough to where Vox is actually worried over the other man.

This could be an interesting part to rebuild their connection. Seeing Alastor almost die while showing Hell that Vox BELONGS TO HIM really makes the TV demon flustered and more than he's ever been before. (Vox likes knowing Alastor is possessive enough to literally have a battle of his own with heaven. It makes him feel special and more than he ever has before)

I'd like to say this situation really convinces Vox but with their history he's worried about getting too close even though he wants to.

He's scared of falling in love with Alastor because what it its 'not the right time' again?

Vox is definitely an over thinker in this case, will sit through the healing process for Alastor but maybe he finds Alastor's words to be a fluke? Did he really mean it? Yeah he almost DIED but he couldn't possibly- he definitely means it.

They've had their history but Vox is a runner now and Alastor wants to chase him. After all, who could know him better than his old friend and whether Vox likes it or not no one would DARE (especially after the shocking announcement that they are soulmates) take Alastor's destined spot in his life.

I honestly love these ideas and I have many myself, keep em coming y'all!

- A

23 notes · View notes

honeygrahambitch · 7 hours

Text

One for sorrow, two for joy

Plot: Will and Hannibal are having a difficult but very needed conversation the day before the birth of their surrogate child.

"Hello." Will said as he sat next to Hannibal on the porch of their house. The sun was casting its final rays before completely hiding before the mountains. "Just so you know, we are not the worst parents on earth because we don't have a name for our kid. I've read many stories where parents just knew exactly when they saw their baby for the first time. And that will be our case as well."

Hannibal had been out there sitting on his own for most of the day, which was exactly why Will had decided to join him with two glasses of white wine. Hannibal accepted his in silence. He didn't say anything to Will's encouraging words.

Will looked properly at his face only when he heard a sniff followed by a deep sigh, filled with sorrow.

He freaked out for a split second, seeing the tears run down his cheeks, knowing it was a rare sight.

"Do you know when we will be the worst parents?" Will asked, guiding Hannibal's head to rest on his shoulder. "When we won't like her first boyfriend. Or her second. Or third. Fuck it, none of them will be good enough. Or when we will say "no" when she will want to go to a promiscuous party. But I promise that when we meet her tomorrow, we will just know exactly what to call her."

Hannibal let out another sniff and Will could actually feel his tears on his shirt. "I thought I knew what name would be perfect for her." He said eventually.

"And I told you I'm down with calling her Mischa if that's what you feel." He replied softly as he let his own head rest on Hannibal's.

"After doing some self-reflection, I realized I don't want that for her. She shouldn't carry my regrets." He said, his gaze following a magpie trying to build a nest in the pine tree which was shading their house. "Every time I would look at her, I would think of my sister." Hannibal said as he let out a soft sob. "I want her to be her own person, not to grow up in the shade of someone else who already carries so much weight."

"What else is on your mind?" Will asked empathetically after a few seconds.

"During the last years I knew that if we had a daughter I would definitely name her Mischa. I figured I would do that only to give myself the delusion of having her next to me again." Hannibal said. "Or maybe I need some sort of closure that I won't get. Truth is, I need to let her go. It's been too long."

"You know, you don't have to let her go. She is not here but she is still your sister. And she will always be. You don't need a physical reminder to get your closure. And we will make sure our daughter knows about her."

Hannibal let out another sob as he buried his face in Will's shoulder.

"There are days when I feel haunted by my own regrets." Hannibal whispered. Will knew. He had learnt to read his every expression and gesture in time.

"I also feel haunted oftentimes. But then you say something stupid like "Will, have you missplaced the corkskrew again?" And all my ghosts are gone."

Hannibal laughed bitterly for the first time that evening.

"I'm sorry, your own nerves must be wrecked as well because of tomorrow." Hannibal said as he lifted his head off Will's shoulder and wiped his tears.

"Pretty wrecked. But seeing my husband weeping tears on the porch is a rare sight. Poetic in fact."

"I'm envious of you." Hannibal said, finally taking a sip from his glass. "You're managing your emotions better than I do."

"Am I? I woke up at 5 and took apart the washing machine piece by piece because yesterday it made a subtle but weird sound. By noon it was in one piece again. Then I reorganized my lures. Then I reorganized all your spices."

"Pardon?" Hannibal asked as he suddenly turned his head towards Will.

"I was surprised you haven't noticed me spending an unusual amount of time in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and labeling spices. Some of them I had no idea what they were so I drew a question mark instead."

"I..." Hannibal started but didn't know what to say, amused by Will's coping methods. "You didn't touch my suits, did you?"

"No, I am not a psychopath. I did want to organize your ties based on warm and color tones. But I decided I wanted to be alive by tomorrow."

Will clinked his glass against Hannibal's and this time, he was the one to rest his head on his shoulder.

"And we are supposed to raise a child." Hannibal said as a conclusion. "Sorry I avoided you the whole day. I was completely unaware you took the whole house apart. You must have had a lot on your mind."

"It's not like you were doing better. But this" Will said gesturing to where they were sitting"-is a lot better than labeling your spices."

"I agree."

The sun was completely gone, a purple shade coloring the horizon. The lonely magpie was soon joined by a second one, who was carrying some straws as well, probably helping with the nest.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

princess-leaorgana · 1 day

Text

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, alcohol consumption, mild hints of abuse, and OH DEAR is that my smut I left out? Oh, that's a lot of smut. I'm so embarrassed.

Chapter One Two Three

While dinner was being prepared, Rolan helped Zelphie with her room. She had done a lot of shopping for furnishings. New curtains for the balcony window, new blankets and pillows for her bed. She had gone clothes shopping as well and she pushed him away from snooping through her new dresses, stockings and tunics. They would share dinner with each other and Lajy on the balcony. Zelphie made a fun decision to place down the old furnishings of her room on the balcony to create a nice sitting space while they ate. It was cozy, very intimate. Sitting down on plush pillows and a thick blanket on a balcony of a wizard’s tower, drinking wine, eating and watching the sunset next to Rolan seemed divine to Zelphie. As they ate, they did what felt right for a budding couple, asking each other questions. They now knew each other’s favorite flower, color, wine and sweet treat.

‘So…if you can remember, as you told me you were young when you were left on your own, is Zelphie your real name?’ He asked her and she swirled her wine glass a little.

‘No, the matron of the orphanage named me. I was named after her parrot,’ she said and Rolan shook his head.

‘That is not true,’ he sighed, almost annoyed at her story.

‘I swear it is! At least that’s what she told me. She told me she named me after the parrot because I never learned how to shut up and be peaceful,’ she said and Rolan snorted.

‘Alright, that I believe,’ he said and she nudged him.

‘How about you?’

‘I’ve always been Rolan,’ he answered her and cleared his throat. It was incredibly common in tiefling culture for tieflings to change their names. Many didn’t even have last names. Tieflings did not have a great societal sense of a family unit. Their children ran wild and some parents who did try to raise their children were ripped from their children, just like Zelphie and Rolan’s had been. The state of the orphans she had met at the Emerald Grove was normal, unfortunately. At least this was true for the tieflings of the Sword Coast.

‘What was your mother’s name?’ She asked and Rolan smiled.

‘Dayryn,’ he answered softly and leaned against the tower’s wall. ‘She was the most wonderful person in the world. Just imagine, if you will, the person who is the reason for Lia’s bravery and passion and Cal’s loyalty and kindness,’ he began and Zelphie just smiled. What a wonderful thing to say. ‘And, to her credit, most of my brilliance,’ he added with a smirk and Zelphie laughed, but shook her head.

‘She might have fueled the flames, but she did not spark them, Rolan,’ she said and he looked down at her. ‘Trust me, with the rows I’ve had with wizards and warlocks all my life, you have something more special than books can teach and devils can promise,’ she said, and she had been hiding a little secret from him. Rolan was a powerful mage, there was no mistaking that. When she first met him, he was incredibly boisterous about his talents, which was very funny to hear as he had gone on and on in front of Mystra’s previous chosen, Gale. But when she heard of Rolan’s power in the Shadowfell Lands and saw it for herself about a month ago, she knew Rolan was special. He was very hard working and well read, she wouldn’t take that from him. But he was born with a talent.

‘I’m sure there was a compliment in there,’ he said and she nodded.

‘Yes, I mean, I don’t know if you were born this way Rolan, but your magic is….different. I didn’t go to Blackstaff or perfect my craft as an apprentice. I don’t know what the spells I yield are called. Sorcerers just…do. Like blinking or breathing. Because of that our magic that a wizard may learn is always a little unique. Very strong but also unique. Does that make sense?’ She asked and Rolan simply nodded. ‘I didn’t notice it at first…but when you cast a magic missile, it has the potential to stun. That’s not something a wizard is taught. You can cast mage armor on a person wearing armor. That is not something that is taught. Gale made that remark to me a while back, about you. He noticed it right away. Were you…did you always have a connection to the Weave, when you were very young?’ She asked and Rolan frowned and nodded slowly. ‘Then…maybe…you are just a very very well read sorcerer.’ Rolan was frozen and a little tense. Zelphie had only meant for her words to be complimentary, but it seemed to not have that effect. ‘Rolan?’

‘I’m not a sorcerer,’ he said and seemed to relax a little and sipped his wine. ‘I worked very, very hard for what I have-‘

‘Of course! Oh! Rolan, I don’t mean to say all of that to insult your education. Oh, no, no I’m so sorry. Obviously everything you have accomplished in your life is incredible. I mean, wizards usually get so far up the chain because they are privileged. Gale grew up a spoiled only child in Waterdeep. Lorroakan had his family name to raise him to the top, you, you did all of this yourself.’ She rambled quickly and Rolan sighed. ‘And bully for me, I think sorcerers are impressive people.’ She said and tilted her head. Rolan’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

‘Well, of course…I just-‘ Zelphie giggled and shook her head.

‘Hush you,’ she said and leaned up for a kiss. He was very happy to oblige her. Happy to kiss her and very happy to not be in trouble for insulting her. She was just as happy. She still couldn’t believe herself. Kissing him, enjoying his company as they lounged on her new beautiful balcony. She sighed happily against his lips and she felt his arm slowly coil around her waist, pulling her closer to him. ‘Stubborn wizard,’ she muttered against his lips and he growled a little laugh. Another almost fight, and she dissolved it with grace, as she always did. This wasn’t very normal for him but he was very happy about it. He was stubborn, he knew he was stubborn. He was proud of being stubborn. His stubbornness got him where he was right now. With a little help, of course. Help from the woman who was kissing him on a balcony as the sunset on the sea in front of them.

His arm pulled her tighter, the ease in which he was able to move her made her feel good. She liked that neediness and strength. He pulled her so close she felt it only natural to get as close to him as she could. With care and patience, she crawled into Rolan’s lap. She was timid in case he would object, but no protests came from him. Just a tighter grip on her waist. Her dress lifted to her thighs and Rolan touched her thigh and laughed. She barely pulled away from him, just enough to speak.

‘What’s so funny?’ She whispered and he nipped at her bottom lip.

‘Fucking stockings,’ he muttered a pinched the soft fabric that created a barrier between her thigh and his hand. Her heart melted, hearing his voice so low and soft. Almost demanding. She could have passed out.

‘They are a nuisance, aren’t they?’ She asked and lowered her face, her lips finding the delicate skin of his neck. He shivered and sighed at her touch. ‘Good thing they don’t go all the way up,’ she muttered. Rolan was frozen for a second, and then moved his hand up her thigh slowly, until his fingertips could feel her delicate skin. She shivered and lifted her head to look at him.

‘I would…like to be a gentleman,’ he whispered, his hand moving a little more and his thumb rubbing soft circles on her inner thigh. She gasped at his new touch, that look on his face, she was lust drunk, completely different from the drunk she was earlier.

‘I’ll give you permission if that will help,’ she whispered back and his hand inched closer.

‘Whatever my lady requests,’ he whispered back, daring her, daring her to ask him.

‘Touch me Rolan,’ she said and he leaned back down to kiss her. As he did, she felt his thumb gently stroke her bare slit and she moaned happily against him.

‘Oh, maybe you aren’t my lady. Stockings but…no underwear? Tut tut, my dear,’ he said playfully and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘I promise I’ll behave next time, Master Rolan,’ she muttered and his fingers parted her lips. She moaned once more and rolled her hips into his hand.

‘Oooh, now, don’t be so greedy, I’ll give you what you need,’ he muttered into her ear and she whined, only grinding her hips harder. ‘Oh, my little hero is so desperate, isn’t she?’ He chuckled. ‘Up with you, love,’ he said and his hand moved from her groin to her hip, patting her backside a little. With a little whine, Zelphie stood up and was followed quickly by Rolan. A little too naturally, Rolan took her hand and walked her back inside. ‘Now, you be good for me and sit on the bed,’ he told her and she eagerly obeyed. For some reason, she didn’t picture him to be so commanding in the bedroom, but his confidence scaled his whole personality. Very fortunate for her, she did like it. She’d never been led before, it felt very nice. She sat on the bed, her tail beating the mattress with excitement. Rolan watched it for a moment and walked over to her. ‘My happy little sorceress, are you happy?’ He asked, getting close enough that Zelphie spread her legs easily. He tipped her chin gently and she nodded.

‘Happy is a very poor word, but yes, I am happy,’ she said and he chuckled.

‘What’s a better word?’ He asked her and she looked up at the ceiling.

‘Hmmmm….delighted, excited, enraptured, curious, a little nervous,’ she said with a giggle and Rolan’s smile just kept growing. He was terribly handsome. ‘Incredibly aroused,’ she said, running her hand down his robes. They were made of a very heavy velvet. He was a showman. Down his chest and torso her hands went before they landed to his middle, where she felt his erection.

‘You feel what you do to me?’ He asked her and she nodded, rubbing the area and he sighed out. ‘Oh, very good,’ he told her and slowly guided her face to look to the side. She easily moved her head, feeling his eyes on her, baring into her. His fingers left her chin and his nails pulled the fabric of her collar and he sighed, not gaining the access he wanted. ‘This needs to go,’ he told her and she stopped rubbing him. She placed her hands in the delicate buttons on her shoulder, but he took over. She looked back up at him, watching him fuss easily over her collar.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ she said softly, she was so lightheaded from lust and love she barely registered that her mouth opened. His yellow eyes moved from her shoulder to her face and he stopped moving for a moment, then returned back to his work.

‘You’re drunk again,’ he said and she shook her head.

‘Drunk, maybe, but not like I was earlier. This has nothing to do with alcohol. You are the potion that has my brain in a chokehold,’ she told him and reached up to his face, cupping his cheek. He was just in control. He had lost it. He had gotten her collar loose and he looked back at her. ‘Everything you do just…sets my heart on fire, Rolan,’ she told him and he searched her face. ‘You are devastatingly beautiful.’

‘Do you really think that?’ He asked her softly and she nodded.

‘Yes, I think that because you are. Your strong jaw, those beautiful eyes, I love your nose,’ she said and his brows furrowed and she giggled. ‘I do, it’s so sharp and I love the little bump,’ she said and his nose wrinkled. She laughed again and shook her head. ‘Yes, that nose,’ she confirmed and he laughed.

‘I’m sorry, but getting accolades from you is…hard to believe,’ he told her and she tilted her head. She let go of his face and slipped the rest of her dress off, sitting almost completely naked in front of him. He swallowed hard when he looked at her properly. There she was. He would have loved to control himself and be a gentleman, but his eyes traveled down her neck to her collarbone, she had freckles on her shoulders. Her breasts were beautiful and he felt his hands reaching out to touch them. Her chest heaved with a heavy breath and he glanced back at her face to make sure this was alright. She was just looking back at him. He had been in control, but now he seemed timid.

‘I’m all yours, it’s alright,’ she told him softly and she saw him swallow hard. He took in a deep breath and breathed out.

‘Lie back on the mattress,’ he requested, his voice cracking a little. She smiled and scooted up on the bed and began to remove her long stockings. ‘Mmmmm, leave those on, please,’ he told her and she giggled. As she climbed up on the bed, her tail curled to an S-shape and Rolan quickly began to undress. She sat down and watched him closely. She chewed on her lip as his robes fell around him. She ogled him a little less subtly than he had just done to her. Her grip on her own lip hardened as she took in his body. He really was beautiful. He had such a strong, lean frame. The ridges on his chest were beautiful and symmetrical. He caught her and smiled, confident that look on her face wasn’t faked. ‘I told you to lie down,’ he told her and she giggled and obeyed, lying on her back. Quickly, Rolan climbed into the bed, crawling over her. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she sighed happily. Her tail curled around his leg and he chuckled. ‘Greedy, greedy little thing,’ he whispered and his lips moved to her jaw, trailing kissing down to her neck. He leaned up a little and moved her face to the side once more and let out a very satisfied breath.

‘What are you looking at?’ She asked and he leaned down to kiss her neck.

‘Your lovely neck,’ he whispered and his hand traveled down the side of her body, giving her skin bumps and a shiver. She gasped at the light touch of his nails on her skin. Damn anyone who assumed a wizard wasn’t good with their hands. With ease and allowed access from Zelphie, Rolan’s hand returned to her middle as his kisses met her breasts. ‘Mmmmm…so ready for me already, my dear, very good girl,’ he said, feeling her warmth and wetness. She gasped in delight, his fingers teasing her, his lips on her nipple.

‘Oh!’ She squealed and gasped, which only egged Rolan on.

‘Shhhh…they’ll hear you down in the city,’ he whispered playfully.

‘Let them,’ she moaned. Her hips twitched as his fingers found her sensitive little nub.

‘Oh, lucky me, you’ll have to indulge me. I’m a bit pent up…so I’ll need some time to play. I want you to unravel, I want you delirious, begging,’ he told her, sitting up. ‘And when you have completely lost your senses, I’ll take what I’ve worked for and fuck you through this bed,’ he said, kneeling in between her legs, his thumb still rubbing her clit in a steady motion. She leaned up on her elbows and he leaned down, kissing her thighs, biting their sensitive skin. She gasped and yelped a little at the feeling of his teeth breaking her skin. He made eye contact with her and she let out another loud moan. He removed his teeth from her skin and kissed her gently in the same spot. His kisses again traveled until she felt him in her middle. His tongue ran up to his thumb and she sighed.

‘Oh…oh Rolan…t-that-‘ she couldn’t finish. His thumb rubbed her clit and his tongue entered her, attempting to lick her clean. Her head hung back in ecstasy. He hummed happily against her and she continued to moan. He felt wonderful, loving, needy, demanding. Warmth ran through her body and she relaxed, lying back on the bed, her left hand finding the top of his head and grabbed at his hair. ‘That feels so good, you’re so good,’ she moaned and he grinned, but continued eating her out, not changing anything about his movements. If they were working there was no reason to change. He wanted to feel her melt on him. Her moans and cries and shakes were killing him. He was doing everything he could not to sit up and fuck her properly. But he knew, he knew he would spend himself quickly. It had been a long time for him. Their first time must be perfect. Or at least memorable. He felt powerful watching his lovely sorceress unwind. And gods she tasted delicious.

He got what he wanted, very quickly. Her ragged breaths slowly became a little louder and more deep and he felt her hips roll up. Her hands left his hair and she held his horns.

‘That’s my girl, that’s my little love, cum for me,’ he said and her grip on his horns tightened and her thighs tightened around his head.

‘Oh! Oh fuck! Yes!’ She cried and Rolan felt her muscles contracting. He lapped up as much of her as he could handle and sat up. She let her grip on him go and he laughed proudly, wiping his face. He watched her writhe for a moment longer and she looked up at him. Her body was perfect for him. The spines down her collarbone to her breasts were delicate. He leaned over and kissed her mouth and she moaned, kissing him back.

‘Gorgeous,’ he whispered and without moving his face from hers, he lifted her hips back up and she gasped when she felt his erection right up against her. ‘Are you alright?’ He asked her and she nodded. ‘Speak, my love,’ he whispered and she swallowed hard. What had he done to her?

‘I’m alright, Rolan, I need you,’ she said and rubbed herself against him. ‘Please,’ she whispered and Rolan pushed inside of her slowly, making her whimper. He groaned loudly and stopped moving.

‘Gods you feel wonderful,’ he groaned and slowly began to thrust in and out of her. Each thrust was slow but still made Zelphie call out a little sound with each one. He felt wonderful. He leaned his forehead to hers, bending her a little, and her moans got louder. ‘Is it alright?’ He asked and she opened her red eyes to look into his yellow ones. ‘Am I alright?’ He asked her and she nodded, completely unable to speak. Just little cries and moans, so she leaned up to kiss him, her hands on his face. He had one hand holding himself up, on the bed beside her, the other hand had a very firm grip on her hip. She felt his nails clawing a little anytime he moved back in her. The sensation was nice, possession and neediness. She trusted Rolan not to really hurt her. It made her feel good to be needed so desperately by him. She felt beautiful, more than she felt if he were to simply call her that.

‘Oh gods,’ she cried when he made a simple change in pace. Her hands moved to his hair, tangling her fingers in his once neat locks. His thrusting became eager, and she gave back as she could, arching her back for him. ‘I love you,’ she muttered and his lips caught hers. She heard him whimper, feeling the vibrations of his lips against hers.

‘I-I can’t-‘ he stammered and she felt his whole body on her. His face was in her neck, shuddering and with two hard thrusts he shook and sighed out, trying to catch his breath. She still held him close. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he whispered and she caught his lips again. Her kiss was tender.

‘Don’t apologize, that was magnificent, you are wonderful,’ she whispered to him and he kissed her once more.

‘You are…you are perfection, the way you feel, those sounds you sing so sweetly, I couldn’t help it,’ he continued and she laughed.

‘There is no higher compliment,’ she told him, her fingers stroking his hair back, which had completely fallen from its neat little knot. He sighed and rolled off of her, she gave out a little wince when she felt him leave her completely. He didn’t look as happy as she felt. ‘Rolan….are you alright?’ She asked and rolled onto her side. She placed a hand on his chest and he sighed, taking her hand.

‘I thought I had more in me…but…well, when you said you loved me I just…’ he sighed and closed his eyes. She laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

‘Please, Rolan, I mean it, I feel wonderful. And you are all to blame, please tell me you feel the same,’ she said and he opened his eyes to look at her.

‘Zelphie, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that. I’m just afraid you think me….’ He didn’t finish and she smirked.

‘Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it,’ she said and he grunted, which made her laugh. ‘You make it up to me in the morning, hm?’ She asked him and littered the side of his face with kisses. ‘But until then, enjoy the afterglow, because I’m going to,’ she told him and he rolled over to face her.

‘I consider myself incredibly lucky,’ he told her. ‘Being here with you, you know…the party all those months ago, the light show? It was to impress you,’ he said and she laughed. He sighed heavily. ‘I mean it,’ he told her and she shook her head, still laughing.

‘I believe you, I’m laughing because I was enamored with you at that party. And neither of us were brave enough to admit it,’ she said and he finally smiled.

‘It was probably for the best, romance back then was probably not the best of plans,’ he said and placed his hand on her cheek.

‘I won’t regret anything, I’m very happy right now,’ she told him and she felt his tail curling around her leg. ‘Stay with me tonight,’ she whispered and he grinned.

‘Of course but uhm…if we could migrate…I uhm…I’d like to be in my own room, if that is alright. I would have brought us there in the first place had I assumed we would…’ he said and she smiled.

‘Whatever would make you comfortable. I’m very adaptable,’ she told him and he nodded.

‘Come then, let us not get too comfortable here,’ he said and grunted as he sat up. She sat up with him and when she climbed off the bed and walked to her wardrobe, finding a nightdress and a robe to wear for the quick journey across the hallway. Once she removed her stockings, she pulled her nightdress over her head. She felt the fabric fall from her head to around her body. It felt wonderful. Her skin was so sensitive. Before she could pull on her robe, Rolan walked up behind her. She hummed happily as she felt his hands on her hips. ‘Now you are devastating…’ he whispered and kissed her neck. She shivered at his touch and the feel of his lips and breath on her neck. She leaned back in him, his hands ran up her sides, grabbing at her breasts, just to feel them.

‘You better not start anything you cannot finish,’ she told him playfully. He chuckled against her skin, meaning only to play, to touch, he was too tempted by her. He nipped at her skin and little and she giggled. ‘You have a biting fixation, don’t you?’ She asked and he laughed. She could still feel the small sting of his little love bite on her thigh.

‘I suppose I do, or maybe it’s just that I’ve had a taste of my favorite treat,’ he purred into her neck and she continued to giggle. The rush of joy, lust and the feeling of his lips were driving her mad. His hands were terribly needy, but gentle. His thumbs stroked her nipples through her gown. She sighed softly. ‘Mmmmm, maybe I will be able to pay you back sooner than morning,’ he muttered and gave her neck one last little bite and walked away from her. She almost fell over. Instead, as he dressed himself, she pulled on her night robe and called for the little kitten.

‘Come now Lajy,’ she said and made a little sound from her lips to coax the kitten from the balcony. He came running and Zelphie shut the balcony door, a little embarrassed that it had been left open. ‘Lucky me, it seems I’m getting everything I want today,’ she hummed happily and Rolan laughed as he lazily redid the buttons of his robes. It wouldn’t be staying on much longer.

‘Tell me then that you wish for at least one more glass of wine, a hot bath and then a deep deep slumber?’ He asked her and she grinned.

‘You read my mind, I’m terribly lucky,’ she said and he held out his hand for her. She smiled and picked her little kitten up and took Rolan’s hand. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. ‘Even luckier now,’ she said and he gave her quite the proud smirk. He radiated joy and pride and that made her even happier. The couple left Zelphie’s room and made it to Rolan’s. She hadn’t been to the master bedroom before, why would she have? It was incredibly clear that Rolan had fully renovated this room. Not a glimmer of Lorroakan was left. The room was warm, a fireplace roaring a blue flame. It was bright but had no heat. The rest of the room was dark, but incredibly illuminated. Along with the blue flame, the ceiling had an illusion cast on it, a brightly lit night sky. Zelphie placed the kitten on the floor, but did not take her eyes off of the effect.

‘It’s not too jarring, is it?’ Rolan asked and she smiled at him and shook her head.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said softly and he smiled.

‘I hope you can sleep through it, I…I need it, to sleep,’ he said and Zelphie tilted her head.

‘Afraid of the dark?’ She asked and he nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said, very simply. ‘Well, uneasy to sleep in the dark, it was never dark where I lived,’ he said and Zelphie’s mouth opened a little, remembering exactly where Rolan was from. Elturel. Elturel, a capital city that had descended to Avernus, suspended over the River Styx, had been a daylight city. She knew very little about it, but the city was under the constant glow of a light source referred to as The Companion.

‘That must have been so strange…never seeing night,’ she said and he shrugged.

‘It was all we knew until The Descent,’ he told her and she nodded. ‘So, I sleep with a little light on,’ he said and she looked back up and smiled.

‘Was The Companion this bright, or brighter?’ She asked and he grinned, happy for her curiosity.

‘Bright as the sun, but none of the heat. It would be as bright as a spring day while it was snowing,’ he said and she laughed a little. That was joyful. She didn’t think she could deal with that much light, but it was better than the reverse. ‘But, after The Descent, we’ve had to make due with evolving our sleeping schedules. Once on the Sword Coast, after all tieflings were expelled from Elturel, I used to sleep during the day, although that proved to be very dangerous. Everyone else we traveled with seemed to be able to cope with the night sky, but…I never really could. So, this is my compromise. I hope it does not disturb you,’ he said and she looked back at him.

‘I don’t see how it could. It’s so beautiful, you amaze me with how talented you are,’ she said and his cheeks burnt up. ‘The other day you were in such awe of my concentration on a little mage hand, but you’ve had this just going on and on? Don’t you ever be impressed with me again,’ she said and he laughed.

‘Well, that is…very nice to hear,’ he said and got himself undressed.

Rolan ran the couple a bath, which Zelphie was very excited about. As lovely as their recent activity had been, she hated going to bed less than clean. The past tenday had proven to her that she still felt that way, even after her less luxurious adventures. Rolan had a large bedroom, it had an adjoining washroom, a wine rack, a desk and seating area, Zelphie could have lived in just this one room her whole life and have been happy. He also had a balcony that faced the west, looking to the mountains and sea. She looked down at fuzzy little Eliminster and wondered what he thought of the giant room. He was snoozing on a lounge chair. Zelphie poured two glasses of wine and met him in the washroom.

‘Now this is terribly luxurious, wine in a bath,’ she said, handing Rolan both glasses so that she could undress and set into the water. Boiling hot, exactly as she liked it. As she sat in the large tub, Rolan handed her her glass and he got in carefully, able to balance his own glass, sitting across from her.

‘It is the very first thing I did after calling Cal and Lia to the tower,’ he said, smiling. ‘That might have been the strangest day of my life, back at home, my family home, I was desperate to work under a man like Lorroakan. I would never have dreamed this is the situation I would find myself in. I had a lot of work to do, but that night, I needed to just…soak it all in, so to speak,’ he explained and she nodded.

‘For what it’s worth Rolan, I’m still coming to terms with the events that happened this year. When everything was over, I thought it was so strange that I would be going home, living a normal life, and going back to work. It’s what I wanted, but it felt almost wrong,’ she explained to him and took a sip of wine. He laughed lightly and was clearly in thought from what she said.

‘Back to work? What on Toril did you used to do for work?’ He asked her and she frowned.

‘I worked with a jeweler in the upper city,’ she said and took another quick sip of wine. ‘I was…I helped set stones in gold and silver and bronze,’ she explained and Rolan frowned. Zelphie didn’t really want to discuss her past work. She was a setter for a jeweler in the upper city, and she did set precious gems, but that was not all she did for her employer’s clients. Rolan took a moment, but asked against his better judgment.

‘What has you so upset about that?’ He asked. She took a deep sigh into her wine.

‘I don’t think you want to know, Rolan. I don’t…I don’t have good stories about my past employment. Either I lie to you, or you will be upset and I don’t wish to lie to you or sour the mood,’ she told him and his frown only deepened.

‘Did your last employer treat you like my last employer?’ He asked her softly and she shrugged.

‘She never touched me…but…I was a bit of a…’ she huffed and looked at him. ‘Until the refugees from Elturel came to Baldur’s Gate, tieflings were very rare in the city and some patriars found me…exotic,’ she began and Rolan’s face turned to a scowl, full of disgust. She glanced at him and looked away. She didn’t like that look on him. She swore she felt the water get hotter. ‘I shouldn’t have told you,’ she said softly and Rolan looked up and away from her.

‘Where was this?’ He asked, a cracking in his voice.

‘Like I said, it was in the Upper City, so it’s probably rubble. I think this tower is the only thing standing,’ she explained quickly. ‘Rolan, please, I shouldn’t have said anything,’ she told him and leaned forward. She placed her goblet on the side of the bath and climbed into his lap. ‘Please, don’t be upset,’ she told him softly, but he was terribly tense. She wrapped one arm around his neck and placed her free hand on his face. ‘Please,’ she begged and he looked up at her.

‘Tell me who she is,’ he asked her as calmly as he could. Zelphie chewed on her bottom lip. She was very angry with herself for upsetting him. He didn’t need to know about her past. Not that. It didn’t matter, that was well over. No one could touch her again, she was safe. ‘I’ll drop it if you tell me,’ he told her and she frowned but sighed, relenting.

‘It was in The Wide, called Love’s Secret. It was owned by a woman named Mayleen Starheart. Although, I would place a bet that was not her real name,’ she said and Rolan sighed and nodded. He sipped his wine and placed his goblet down. He would keep his promise to her for now. His arms wrapped around her and she leaned down to kiss him. She felt him relax and she leaned back up. ‘You know, I never pictured your hair would be this long,’ she said and her finger twisted around a lock behind his neck. He smiled at her.

‘If I want to keep it long, I must keep it neat,’ he told her and she nodded.

‘Could I wash it for you?’ Rolan’s eyes widened at her question and he nodded. She climbed off of his lap and he reached behind him for his soap. She took it as he dunked his head back, soaking his hair. ‘Make yourself comfortable,’ she said, sitting up high and he turned himself around, laying back, his back against her chest.

‘Is that alright?’ He asked her and she hummed. He felt like a weighted blanket on her.

‘Wonderful,’ she told him and began to rub the soap into his scalp just at his hairline, along the crowns of his horns. ‘You Lia and Cal all have fully black horns,’ she mused and he hummed. ‘I’m terribly jealous.’

‘Your horns are beautiful,’ he told her quickly and she laughed. ‘I meant it, they are very large, but they are so…graceful. They only enhance your beauty, my darling,’ he told her and she smiled, continuing her work in his hair.

‘Thank you, Master Rolan,’ she said with a smirk. He laughed, she felt the vibrations of his body against her chest.

‘We are naked, newly coupled, your fingers are in my hair which all on its own is stirring something in me, and you keep calling me Master Rolan,’ he said happily. ‘You need to stop that,’ he told her and she smiled proudly.

‘I told you earlier, I’m all yours, I think that’s a very fitting title for me to call you,’ she said and Rolan quickly submerged into the water again. After a moment under the water, Zelphie was laughing loudly. Now he was being silly. He re-emerged and quickly ran his hands through his hair to get the water out, and he got right out of the bath. ‘Uh-oh,’ she said, still laughing a bit as Rolan turned around, grabbing a towel to dry himself off.

‘Uh-oh is correct, and you’ll be in much more trouble if you don’t get that heavenly body out of that bath and into my bed,’ he told her and Zelphie almost froze. She did as she was told and got out of the bath. She grabbed herself a towel and dried herself off, glad her hair hadn’t gotten wet. Rolan gave her about ten seconds and took her hand. ‘Come come,’ he said and she smiled up at him. She might have just created a monster. He led her to his large bed, a large white blanket with dark purple satin sheets underneath. It was incredibly plush. ‘Lie back,’ he told her gently and once her head reached the pillow, he climbed on top of her. ‘You look very, very good in my bed,’ he told her and that possessive tail of hers wrapped around his leg again. He leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Her hips rolled up into him, coaxing his erection and he sighed happily. He then laughed. He laughed hard and she looked at him with wide eyes.

‘What?’ She asked, a smile growing on her face. Oh, he was incredibly silly. She loved it, she loved seeing him so happy, and she loved even more to be the center of his joy. He shook his head and kissed the side of her mouth.

‘I feel spoiled,’ he told her and lifted his head to look at her again. ‘You, you of all people in this world are in my bed. And you want me, I’m just having a hard time processing it all,’ he said and she grinned up at him.

‘I hate to boost your ego even further, but you need to know how much I am thinking the same. I really didn’t think you would ever want me, like this,’ she said and placed her hands on his face. ‘Can I show you how much I want you?’ She asked and let her tail loosen from his leg. He nodded slowly. ‘Lie on your back,’ she whispered and he did just that. Zelphie smiled and climbed over him, but stayed by his legs. She knelt between his legs and bent over, running her tongue against his erection and he sighed out with a shake in his voice.

‘Aahhh…’ he whimpered and Zelphie smiled, keeping close attention to the head of his cock, lapping at it like a cat to water. ‘Oh…you.I’m supposed to be..p-paying you back,’ he whimpered and she giggled.

‘You are,’ she whispered. He hissed and she felt him twitch. That was the truth. She wanted to pamper him. She had been earlier, washing his hair, but he needed attention elsewhere and she would give it to him. It turned her on, watching her partner be satisfied with just her mouth. She rocked her hips happily and once he was slick with her spit, she took as much as she could of him in her mouth. Rolan moaned and she felt his tail rise up between her legs, asking for them to part. She parted her knees and his tail rubbed up against her and she moaned against him.

‘Oh what a pretty thing you are…’ he muttered and she began to bob her head up and down. As she did, she naturally rubbed herself against his tail, which he kept pressing against her harder and harder. He was only encouraging her. She felt his tail move against her and she grinned.

‘Looking for something?’ She asked him playfully and went right back to her work. He made eye contact with her for a moment and she watched him. She had never seen him like that, completely enraptured, nervous, a little confused. He sighed out happily and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

‘I want to fuck you, so you’re going to need to cum for me,’ he told her softly and she wiggled her hips.

‘It makes you feel good when I cum, doesn’t it?’ She asked, using her hand to work his cock as she spoke to him. He nodded and swallowed hard. ‘You make me feel so good, Rolan,’ she said and put his cock back in her mouth. His sounds and whimpers as she sucked him, his cock growing harder in her mouth was sending her on edge. She couldn’t help it. She felt the warmth rise up inside of her and she arched her back, slowing down. Rolan opened his eyes to watch her. His tail rubbed her harder and a little faster to make up for her frozen form.

‘Yes, yes, oh you beautiful thing, yes, cum for me, cum like I asked, be a good girl,’ he whispered a spasm shot through her body as she writhed, riding her orgasm out on his tail. ‘That’s my girl, yes, enjoy yourself on me, use me,’ he coaxed her through her orgasm, leaving her legs shaking. She crawled up and kissed him hard, rolling her hips in his. He placed one hand on her backside and the other positioned himself so she could feel him at her entrance which was begging. ‘Do you want it?’ He asked her through kisses and she moaned. ‘Say it,’ he commanded her lightly and she nodded.

‘I want it, I want you,’ she muttered and he lifted his hips and she groaned as he entered her. He held her hips still so she would stay exactly where she was. In and out, so slow, so careful. With every movement of his hips she cried out. Her body ached. He watched her carefully and she sat upright. She then leaned back, her hands on his thighs behind her and bounced. He cursed under his breath and moved his right hand to her middle. His thumb rubbed her clit and she called out, feeling that rush of warmth again. She felt like she had no control over herself, pure instinct had taken over. She bounced and rocked her hips on him like a mad woman, crying out his name.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Rolan muttered. She moaned again, looking down at her.

‘Oh Rolan,’ she moaned and he leaned up on his elbow, still rubbing her clit.

‘Mmmm…take what you want, take what you want, I want to feel you cum with me inside you, be selfish,’ he whispered and that was it. She lost the ability to breath and her hips curled around, as her second orgasm rang through her. Rolan gasped and moaned and she felt him shiver under her, twitching and then his hips pressing into her more. That was magical.

‘I love you,’ she whispered and bent down to kiss him. A shiver ran up her spine and she giggled. Rolan pulled her down to lay on top of him, his arms wrapped around her.

‘I love you too,’ he whispered and kissed his lady. She giggled, a feel of pure joy and release washing over her, delusional joy. She felt happy, she felt silly, she felt stupid, she felt playful and warm. The couple stayed like that, not getting enough of the other, just kissing and grabbing in the afterglow. Their tails intertwined and fought over dominance. Zelphie kissed down his face, giggling happily and he laughed at her. ‘Oh don’t tell me you have energy left,’ he said and looked down at her with heavily lidded eyes. Her eyes were bright.

‘Is it annoying?’ She asked him, wiggling a little. He shook his head, still smiling and closed his eyes.

‘Not in the least, I just hope you know this old man is physically spent,’ he said and sighed out.

‘What old man?’ She asked and he just laughed. She crawled off of him happily and sat next to his head, and her fingers combed through his wet hair happily. He had a very low and quiet purr, but it was there and it made her happy. He scooted to his side and pulled on her arm.

‘Come down here and lay with me, I want to hold you,’ he begged and she did as he asked. Though first, Rolan kicked down the covers to situate themselves on the sheets. Once under them, Rolan pulled Zelphie in closed, their noses nuzzling and her horns clinked against his. ‘Comfortable?’ He asked her softly and she nodded, her tail and legs wrapping around his. If she could find a way to get closer to him she would. ‘Good,’ he said and leaned his face up to kiss her forehead. ‘I meant what I said, Zelphie, I do love you. That wasn’t wine or lust talking. Your courage, your kindness, your patience, your warmth, your beauty…I…I’d have to be a damned fool not to consider myself the luckiest person in Faerun by having you in my arms, in my bed. And I will take advantage of that, I will cherish you, I will make sure I am worthy of your love in return,’ he spoke and Zelphie’s mind buzzed. She didn’t know what to say. All of the accolades coming from him meant everything to her. So that’s what she would tell him.

‘That…that means quite a lot coming from you, Rolan. Thank you, and know that I will also cherish you, and boost that goddamned confidence of yours, because everything you say you see in me I see in you,’ she said and he looked down. ‘I see a trustworthy, devoted, brave, hard-working, intelligent and beautiful man when I look at you. I’d give anything to have you know that about yourself,’ she continued and he frowned a little. ‘You don’t need to fight for me. Just…promise me you’ll continue being this man that I love, hm?’ She asked and he smiled again and nodded.

‘I promise,’ he told her and she kissed him tenderly. ‘Goodnight, Zelphie,’ he whispered and closed his eyes.

‘Sweet dreams, Rolan.’

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #rolan fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

21 notes · View notes

canonicallyobserving911 · 2 days

Text

Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 27 will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I'm in the final stage of completing it and after I do, I'll proofread and edit it then I'll post it on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Currently 26 chapters completed: 1M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

{#1 Previous snippet}

{#2 Previous snippet}

___________

I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 27 because at the end of Chapter 26, while Buck was sleeping, he made a sound that Eddie hadn't heard before then he immediately sat up in bed and called Eddie's name. He was in a daze when he did and to Eddie, Buck appeared to be still dreaming but since his eyes were open, he started talking to him to get his attention.

They spent the majority of the day before in the hospital after Buck collapsed in Eddie's arms and suffered a bradycardia event of epic proportions. He was unconscious and unresponsive after he received a package that was delivered to the firehouse while they were in Europe. Once he opened it and read the letter, he reached the part where it stated someone died and it reminded him of his own death and it triggered the event.

All three members of the Diaz family are supporting one another as Buck faces the fact that he died last year and as he proceeds to deal with all 7 stages of grief.

___________

Here's a romantically fluffy and almost smutty snippet from Chapter 27 of Buck and Eddie being head over heels in love with each other.

___________

Buck breaks the sound barrier first and admits, “Eddie, I love you, so much. Do you know how much I love you?”

“I do.” He smiles and stretches his arms out as far as they’ll go and replies, “This much.”

“More!” He whispers as he moves closer and positions himself so he’s on top of his husband. He leans down and kisses him passionately and after he pulls back, he looks him in the eyes and says, “I love you to infinity and beyond.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “My love… did you just hit me with a line from the movie “Toy Story”? Didn’t Buzz Lightyear say that?” Eddie knows the movie and the line because Chris watched it over and over again when he was 6 years old.

Buck laughs and Eddie does too and before they know it, they’re both crying from laughing so hard.

When their laughter subsides, Buck says, “Yeah… he did but it’s the only way I could think of to describe how much I love you.”

And who is Eddie to refute that. “I love you to infinity and beyond too” then he lifts his head and presses his lips to Buck’s and when he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, he opens for him.

The kiss is tantalizing and magnificent because it’s filled with love, passion and devotion and when Eddie rolls his tongue like he rolls his "Rs" when he speaks Italian and Spanish, Buck thinks his heart’s going to explode in his chest because he wants to feel his husband all over him.

It’s been more than a week, actually it’s been 13 days but Buck thinks who’s counting, then he realizes he has and he can’t wait for Eddie to be buried deep inside of him again.

After more than a minute, they break it because they need to come up for air and when they do, Eddie looks at his husband and he wants to make love to him so bad right now but in the back of his mind, he hears, “You know you aren’t supposed to” but his heart and the bulge in his pants causes him to breathlessly say, “Ciò che vuoi!” [“Tell me what you want!”]

“VOI! [“YOU!”]

And that’s all it takes for them to crash their lips into each other’s again and for Buck to start undressing his husband while speaking Italian in his ear. “Voglio che tu faccia l’amore con me!” [“I want you to make love to me”].

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat but then everything that happened and was said to them on Monday comes back to the front of his mind like a whirlwind. He gasps and after he catches his breath, he whispers, “Amore mio, we should st—op!”

Buck keeps kissing that soft spot underneath his earlobe that drives him wild and after he scrapes his teeth over it, he asks, “Don’t you want me because… I really want you? Eddie, I need you!”

Without hesitation, he admits, “Of course I—I do… I always want you, more than anything but you know we can’t… not right now. We have to wait until…”

Why did Eddie tell Buck they have to wait to make love? 🤷🏽‍♀️

___________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago. They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial. But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories. Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie. It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-26 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 27 will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I'm in the final stage of completing it and after I proofread and edit it, I'll post it.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #The Diaz Family #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #911 fanfic #911 abc #911 on abc #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #Several Sentences Sunday #Seven Sentences Sunday #buddie wip #“I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

27 notes · View notes