#and seemed to actually enjoy his bond with Mila some | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

novoaa1writes · 3 years

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candles

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pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x reader

summary:

you’ve been feeling strange for the past month, particularly when it comes to dating.

you do your best to ignore it, thinking it’ll resolve itself on its own—given time, that is.

it doesn’t.

(and it’s got everything to do with wanda.)

[also available on ao3]

word count: ~5,300

rating: mature

warnings: dark!wanda, NON-CON spanking (with a belt), NON-CON BDSM play, mental manipulation, partial mind control, emotional manipulation, mental coercion, trauma bonding, toxic dynamics, drinking, possessive!wanda, non-con mind-reading, vandalism, adultery (not in reference to you or wanda), brief instances of slut-shaming

notes: [requested by anon] reader’s sexuality isn’t explicitly stated, but ex-partners of different genders are referenced/mentioned

— —

wanda uses a couple bulgarian terms of endearment for reader here, so below is a lil’ list in the order of which they appear.

*note: all of these are exactly one letter away from being precise matches to synonymous terms in russian. HOWEVER, the bulgarian alphabet and the russian alphabet are different—granted, in fairly minor ways. for one, while both are comprised of cyrillic lettering, russian has 33 while bulgarian only has 30.

— —

You have no fucking clue what’d gotten into you.

One moment, things were fine—good, even. And the next… well.

You’ll explain.

It was something like 11:30 on a Saturday night, and you were drunk.

Well, not drunk. More like buzzed.

But whatever, right? Considering the week you’d had, you deserved to let loose, even if only for a night.

Monday night saw a very angry and decidedly unhinged soccer mom banging on your door, screeching vehemently about the ‘two-faced slut’ who ruined her marriage and demanding to be let in so that she could ‘make her sorry.’ Turns out, the older guy your roommate had been sleeping with as of late was married—not that he’d bothered to share that particular bit of information with her, obviously.

The two of you spent the better part of the evening barricaded inside, passing a bottle of cheap wine back and forth while trying to explain to the 911 operator that you weren’t messing around, that there really was an angry soccer mom on your doorstep and you were actively fearing for your safety.

She eventually left around 10:00pm—no thanks to the police, since the 911 operator hadn’t even bothered to give them a call. It wasn’t until the next morning when you left for work that you saw the woman’s parting gift to the pair of you: the word ‘HOMEWRECKER’ spray-painted across the front door in obnoxious red lettering.

Bye-bye, security deposit.

That same night, you made your roommate promise to start dating people in a similar age range—because really, the both of you were stressed enough as it was without worrying about coming in between yet another middle-aged couple’s dying marriage.

The rest of the week wasn’t much better.

On Thursday, your balding creep of a boss had made yet another blatant pass at you in the workplace, making you seriously consider (and not for the first time) the prospect of just quitting and being done with it.

Then, at shit o’clock on a Friday morning, you awoke to an urgent phone call informing you that an ex of yours (one you were actually on semi-decent terms with) had gotten into a fairly serious car accident, and still had you marked down as her emergency contact.

30 minutes later found you showing up at the hospital just moments after your ex’s current girlfriend had arrived, which then prompted the whole ‘you still being your ex’s emergency contact’ revelation when the current girlfriend demanded to know what you were doing there, which ended up being… well, you’ll just say it wasn’t pretty, and leave it at that.

And your ex was going to be completely fine, anyways. She just had some minor cuts and abrasions, and would need to undergo a fairly minor (read: minimally invasive) surgery over the next couple days.

Before leaving, you instigated a quick check-in with the doctors to ensure they had everything they needed—which then turned into you providing a list of allergies, as your ex wouldn’t likely be conscious for another couple of hours, and apparently the current girlfriend didn’t know of her sensitivities to penicillin and phenobarbital… which the current girlfriend was less than happy about, if the daggers she glared at you were any indication.

Whatever. You were just trying to help.

You thanked the doctors, told them to feel free to call you if anything went awry, then asked if they might tell your ex to call you when she awoke. You thought about offering some words of comfort to the current girlfriend as she sat vigil at your ex’s bedside, but the murderous glower she shot you the moment you got within ten feet of her was more than enough to make you think better of it.

With that, you left.

So… yeah. It’d been a shitty week.

And now, here you were: a girls’ night out at the lively nightclub you and your roommate had scoped out just last weekend, tossing back $12 cocktails and letting the trashy EDM beat blaring over the speakers drown out the rest of your thoughts.

You’d been feeling a little weird all week—all month, really.

As far as you were concerned, this was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

So, when a cute guy wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt that was at least a couple sizes too big yet did well to compliment his well-muscled torso came up to you and started chatting you up at the bar, you didn’t blow him off.

The exact opposite, in fact.

He was nice, and funny, and had a gorgeous smile that made your chest feel warm for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol. When he flirted with you, you flirted right back.

You felt a little guilty for doing so, though you couldn’t exactly put a finger on why that was. Either way, you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it for very long.

After all, you’d been feeling hints of that for the past month, if not longer. It seemed to happen whenever you flirted with a cute guy, or went out on another Tinder date with a pretty girl, or even hugged one of your close friends.

You’d get this painful tightening sensation in your gut, nausea roiling in your abdomen… a distant, lofty voice in your head telling you that this was wrong, that you already belonged to someone else.

Which was pointless, really. Stupid.

You were single.

Your last serious relationship (barring the one with your now-hospitalized ex-girlfriend) had been over seven months ago with an eccentric guy named Lukas. He was kind, well-meaning… a bit of a dork at his very core, but you always found that more endearing than anything else. You’d dated him for four and a half months before deciding to break it off; because as much as you cared for him and enjoyed being around him, you didn’t love him, and you knew by then that you never would.

You thought about him, from time to time—even missed him now and again.

And yet, the strangest thing about the shameful feeling you’d get whenever your roommate so much as brushed a friendly kiss up against your cheek—it had absolutely nothing to do with Lukas.

You didn’t know how you knew that, but you did.

Whatever.

This guy was not Lukas.

His name was Des—short for Desmond, you learned over your fourth sugary-sweet cocktail of the night. He was charming and slightly foul-mouthed, but conscientious and passably polite where it mattered. He didn’t grope your ass or stare at your tits, nor did he make any lewd commentary about your body in any capacity.

He also smelled… really good, like Old Spice and spearmint gum and the barest hint of cigarette smoke.

That was more than enough for you.

(Whatever, alright? Decent guys were in short supply these days.)

You smiled and let him buy you another drink, even after you’d insisted that he really, really didn’t have to. And when an obnoxious pop song with a beat that was far more catchy than you’d have liked to admit came over the speakers, you let him coax you out to the dance floor with minimal resistance.

It was… fun. You liked the way his hands rested on either of your hips—gentle, almost careful; holding you like he understood he didn’t have a right to your body, like he was more than content that you allowed him this to even think of demanding any more.

Despite the twinges of guilt flaring in your gut, you let yourself get a little more comfortable… dancing closer and closer to him amidst a packed crowd of writhing bodies, letting your breasts graze up against his chest.

It was teasing—provocative, even. A test, of sorts—one that Des passed with flying colors.

He didn’t do a thing to rush you, just kept dancing across from you with his hands on your hips and his darkened gaze on yours—seeming fully content to let you set the pace for the moment. And God, but the way he was looking at you… patient but eager, like he wanted nothing more than to crush your body against his own and grind himself into you like an animal—and yet, still, he held himself back.

You couldn’t help but find that attractive as hell.

Looping your arms around his neck, you let your body to press flush against his as you swayed to the beat of the song, not shying away from the slight stiffness you could feel growing against your hip.

That guilty, nauseous feeling in your gut pulled tighter.

You ignored it, and, when he leaned a little closer to shout over the deafening music, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”... well.

You wasted absolutely no time in lunging up on the tips of your toes to capture his lips in a messy open-mouthed kiss, the strobe lights of the club fading into obscurity around you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours—tentative, at first, until you pressed a little harder and traced the seam of his lips with your tongue… and, yeah; that did the trick.

A moment later, his lips parted to let out a quiet groan directly into your mouth as he began to reciprocate in earnest, setting every nerve ending on your body alight with electrifying want.

And that’s when it happened.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a twisted sort of clarity hit you square in the chest—slowly, and then all at once.

The next bits were something of a blur.

You tore yourself away from Des, turned to forcibly elbow your way through a floor of grinding bodies. You thought you heard him call out your name, and more than a couple people on the dancefloor turned to glare at you as you rudely brushed past them without care—but, whatever.

You texted… someone, telling them you were headed back to the apartment, so they shouldn’t bother waiting up. The group chat, maybe?

And now… Now.

Before you can blink, the past crashes into the present, and you find yourself back outside in the pitch-black night.

It’s dark… chilly. A brisk wind catches you the moment you stumble out onto the sidewalk, assaulting every inch of your exposed skin like scores of needles piercing your flesh. You whimper, shudder, and hug your arms around your body—trying to warm yourself back up like a scared little kid who forgot their jacket.

For the first time that night, you regret the tiny black babydoll dress you’d chosen to wear for the evening—and that’s not even to mention the four-inch heels.

It’s miserable, to be sure, but you can hardly focus on it for very long.

No, you have to go somewhere. You feel sick, and cold, and wrong in a way you’re loath to even begin explaining to anyone else.

And your head… you’re positively aching for something—someone to make this better.

You need… Wanda.

Yes, Wanda is the person you’re looking for. She can make all of this better.

You don’t know why, but you’re sure of it. You just need to find her. Hopefully she’s spending the night in her apartment on that super cozy sofa of hers, drinking hot chocolate and binge-watching something on Netflix like the two of you did a couple weeks back.

A fond grin curves your lips at the recollection as you stumble off down the sidewalk, headed for the nearest subway station.

Another wintry gust of wind hits you square in the chest, and you pinch your forearm hard, silently willing yourself to focus.

The station should be less than a block down, if you’re remembering correctly.

At the next street corner, you manage to brandish your pepper spray in one hand while you rummage around in your purse for your MetroCard with the other.

It’s cold as hell, and you’re probably a little too drunk to be walking through the City streets alone right now, but you don’t much care.

All you gotta do is find Wanda. That’s all.

She’ll make everything better again.

— —

Where everything else is confusing, there’s one part that seems to make sense—Wanda.

You nearly pick a fight with the card reader at the subway entrance when it makes you swipe your card three times to let you through, and even the stairs leading down to the lower tracks are more of a challenge than they probably should be… and yet, somehow, the rest of it is blessedly simple. A no-brainer, really.

You know which train you need to take… the blue one that arrives in four minutes. You know you need to stay on it for five stops before getting off.

Once you’re up at ground level, you’ll have a short walk ahead of you—one that you know like the back of your hand despite only ever having been to Wanda’s a couple of times.

You’ll enter Wanda’s apartment building, take the elevator right up to floor four, and boom! Home free.

You do exactly that.

It takes a short time (thankfully) and there’s not an ounce of uncertainty within you all the while, like you’ve done this 100 times before.

In seemingly no time at all, you’re there—standing on Wanda’s doorstep, knocking a couple times just beneath the burnished bronze ‘4A’ nailed into her door.

Your head feels all light and dizzy; you’re still shuddering from the time you spent out in the cold; but—

“One sec!” Wanda’s muffled voice comes from inside, the mere sound of it washing over you like a soothing balm—promising relief.

You’re safe now.

You made it.

— —

The moment the door swings open to reveal a bleary-eyed Wanda Maximoff dressed in tiny grey pajama shorts, an oversized Star Trek T-shirt, and nothing else, it’s like everything falls back into place.

It’s like… like you can breathe again.

You’re still drunk, and shivering, and more than a bit confused; but now that Wanda’s awake and here and smirking like she knows exactly what’s happening even if you don’t, you feel… better, somehow. Not nearly so lost as you were before.

“Y/N,” Wanda greets, stepping aside and offering out a hand to help you inside. You’re quick to take it. “I was not expecting you,” she drawls, though everything about her demeanor is saying the opposite as she shuts and locks the door behind you.

You pay it little mind. “Yeah, I... ” you trail off, turning to face her even as an embarrassed flush warms your cheeks. All of a sudden, you can’t help but feel rather ridiculous for knocking on her door and barging in so late—especially without calling first. “I’m so sorry, I... I don’t know why I’m here.”

Wanda just tilts her head, appraising you curiously even as the ghost of a knowing smile curves her lips. “Are you sure about that?”

The heat in your cheeks seems to intensify tenfold at that. “I… I need to tell you something,” you hear yourself say, and the moment it’s registered, you realize that it’s true.

You feel… guilty, all of a sudden. Nauseous, too. Scared.

You danced with that guy—Des. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… You kissed him. Why would you do that?

In the present moment, Wanda nods, like that makes perfect sense. Like all of this makes perfect sense.

“Okay,” she acquiesces lightly, flares of crimson flitting through her measured gaze. “Is it something I’ll have to punish you for?”

‘Punish’ me? What—?

You feel Wanda’s presence in your head… inconspicuous tendrils sifting through your thoughts, worming their way through your scattered memories.

No point in lying.

“Y-Yes,” you hear yourself say. Much like earlier, it isn’t until the moment you’ve confirmed it aloud that you know it to be true. You danced with someone else. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… kiss you. “I… I’m so sorry, Wanda; I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You see the moment Wanda finds it—your memories of the nightclub. Meeting Des at the bar. Flirting with him… Kissing him.

The look on her pretty features goes from bemused to disbelieving to absolutely murderous in zero seconds flat, and the realization hits like a freight train that you’re really in for it now.

Fuck.

“Go to the bedroom,” she snarls, her typically blue-green eyes burning with scarlet light. “Then take off that slutty dress. I want you on the bed, face down, naked. Do you understand?”

Your head is spinning; confusion rears its ugly head in your gut even as every ounce of your being screams at you to just obey—‘cause if you can just do that, the rest of it will start to make sense. (Maybe.) “O-Okay.”

— —

You don’t know how you know the way to Wanda’s bedroom, but you do.

You slip inside a room shrouded in darkness, and no matter how it strains your eyes to look around, you don’t dare turn on the light.

It’s a modestly-sized bedroom with hardwood flooring, fairy lights along one wall, and an adjoining bathroom just opposite the entrance. There’s a tall, wooden dresser pressed up against the wall directly across from a large, king-sized bed. That’s pretty much all the detail you can manage to make out in the darkness.

Well, either way, you suppose it isn’t really your business.

Wanda gave you specific instructions, and you intend to follow them.

Not for the first time tonight, you’re quite happy about the babydoll dress you’re wearing—particularly for how easy it is to pull it up over your head and off, leaving you in panties and a strapless bra in a matter of moments.

You fold the dress neatly in your hands, then leave it atop the dresser. Your panties and bra come next. In seconds, you’ve formed a small, tidy pile.

As you step out of your heels and approach the neatly-made bed, you’re struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu… like you’ve done this before.

It lingers in the forefront of your mind as you crawl up onto the bed, biting back a groan at how easily the plush mattress gives way under your hands and knees.

God, you’d kill to have a nice nap in this absolute cloud of a bed.

You shake the thought off, simultaneously willing the haze of intoxication fogging up your brain to abate.

You’re not here to nap.

You settle face-down onto the bed, just like Wanda said. You’re careful not to rest your face on the pillows, though, since you have the distinct feeling that’s not something Wanda would want you doing without permission.

Instead, you fold your arms and rest your head atop your forearm, staring straight down into nothing. You scrunch up your features and let out a quiet huff as the black duvet tickles the tip of your nose.

It smells like her—all of it does. Cinnamon, vanilla, and something indefinable; something that belongs to Wanda, and Wanda alone.

You feel your body stiffen as a familiar set of footsteps draw near, approaching the room where you lie—naked and vulnerable atop Wanda’s bed.

The patter of Wanda’s gait becomes almost soundless as she enters, circling around the bed over towards the nightstand. You don’t dare to turn your head and watch as she pulls out one of the drawers, rummaging through it until she finds… well, whatever it is she’s looking for, you suppose.

A moment later, there’s the telltale chk! of a match being struck, and a hiss as the phosphorous tip lights itself aflame.

It’s quiet for a minute... then two. The only sounds you can hear are your breathing and the strike of a match every time Wanda lights another.

Gradually, gentle flares of light grow in your periphery, bathing the room in a dim, yellow-y glow. She’s lighting candles—a lot of them.

You’ve always loved candles.

A couple minutes later, she’s finished, and she returns to tuck the matchbox safely back in the drawer.

You lose track of her as she retreats once more, and your mounting curiosity is more than piqued when you hear her rummaging through the dresser near the foot of the bed; still, you don’t dare turn and look.

Instead, you wait, fetid nausea churning low in your gut, pinpricks of apprehension dancing across every inch of exposed skin. Your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage as she takes something out from the dresser drawer, then shuts it with an audible thud!

You swallow the lump in your throat and urge yourself to focus on your breathing.

In, out.

In… out.

“I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” Wanda’s voice comes from somewhere behind you, genuine hurt coloring her hushed tone.

You have to fight the urge to shudder as a chill runs down your spine. “I… I’m sorry, Wanda,” you say meekly, pathetically, cheeks hot with shame.

And the worst part? You’re not lying.

You listen carefully for the sounds of her bare feet padding across the floor as she circles the bed once more, crouching down right beside you in the very corner of your periphery.

“Look at me,” she orders, gentle yet firm.

You do.

The moment you meet her gaze, you can’t help the errant thought entering your mind that she looks so pretty like this—face bare of makeup; long brown hair piled into a messy bun atop her head; dainty features cast into darkened shadows by the low, yellow light of burning candles clustered together atop the nightstand.

The muted light seems to soften her anger, her pain… allowing her to really look her age for the very first time since you’ve known her.

“You think too loudly, Y/N.” Wanda’s words are dry, almost teasing as they jolt you back into reality. “Focus on me, please.”

You do.

“You belong to me,” she asserts after a beat of silence, an uncharacteristically intent and almost solemn look splayed across her dimly-lit features. “I thought you understood that.”

The words confuse you even as they seem to resonate poignantly with some fundamental part of you… a part of you that categorically refuses to be ignored.

“Wanda…” you trail off, bewilderment and contrition warring violently within your chest until it aches to draw breath. “I’m confused, Wanda,” you whimper out finally, overwhelmed tears burning in your eyes. “I-I-I don’t understand what’s happening—”

Wanda cuts you off with a derisive snort. “Yes, clearly,” she agrees, her tone ripe with sardonic ire. “You’ve forgotten yourself. You’ve forgotten who owns you.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, desperately trying to make sense of it all. “Is that why…” You search Wanda’s eyes intently. “... I-I felt sick, an-and… guilty about dancing with Des.”

Something like anger flares in her gaze, hot and bitter, and you have to resist the urge to shrivel beneath it. “That boy had no right to touch what’s rightfully mine.”

“B-But then… why didn’t I remember?” you ask, utterly forlorn. “I-I felt it last weekend, too, but I… I didn’t—”

“Last weekend?” Wanda repeats, features hardening.

Oh, shit. You feel your cheeks get hot again. “I… I shouldn’t have brought it up, Wan’, I’m sorry—”

“What happened last weekend?” she interjects, her tone cold and hard like a double-edged blade. “You can tell me yourself, or I can start looking.”

You shiver. “I… I went on a-a… a date with a girl that I met online,” you admit, tears welling in your eyes even as Wanda’s jaw visibly tightens. “I-It was just the one time! A-And nothing happened; we didn’t even k-kiss! I just… I didn’t… I didn’t know—”

“Yes. You’re right; you didn’t know.” Wanda stands abruptly, then, and it’s at that moment that you see the folded belt in her hands—thick, worn leather with a sterling silver buckle.

An icy sense of dread blossoms in your chest, chilling you from the inside out.

Is she going to—?

“I was indulgent before… I let you get away with far too much. I will not make the same mistake again.”

With that, she turns to circle back around the bed, the belt buckle audibly jangling in her hands with every step.

“I have to punish you, принцеса,” she continues, her voice scarcely more than a whisper as she comes to stand near the foot of the bed—and somehow, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no convincing her otherwise.

She’s going to punish you, and it’s going to hurt. Bad.

All at once, panic seizes you. You squirm, writhing in an effort to get up and off the bed—

Only to be stopped by tendrils of lurid crimson curling around either wrist, forcing them together just over your head like magic—glowing crimson cuffs holding both arms fast to the headboard. On a whim, you test your legs—tensing and pulling, only to be met with iron-clad resistance encircling either ankle in a tight, unrelenting grip.

Well, fuck.

“W-Wanda,” you plead, hardly paying any mind to the way your voice trembles. “Please, I—I don’t want—”

“I do not enjoy punishing you, мила,” she laments, almost sounding genuinely apologetic. It tugs at your heartstrings in a curious way—something you really don’t have time to examine right now. “But you did something bad. And when you do bad things, there are consequences. You understand that, don’t you?”

A tear trickles down your cheek, warm and wet as you steel yourself for the first hit. “Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Wanda lauds, and you can’t help the surge of warmth that washes over you at the simple praise—the pride that blooms in your chest at knowing you’ve finally done something right. “Now—try and relax, принцеса, okay?”

It’s all the warning you get before the first blow comes down upon your bare arse with a resounding Crack!

White-hot pain flares across your bottom, racing up your spine like wildfire and tearing a strangled whimper from your throat.

Jesus fucking Christ, that hurt—

Crack!

Holy fuck.

The impact of the leather against your naked cheeks leaves strips of fire burning in its wake, expelling all the air from your lungs in a choked-out rush.

“P-Please, no, Wan’,” you beg breathlessly, struggling in vain even as coils of vibrant scarlet hold you fast, “it hurts, please—”

Crack!

“This is for your own good, baby,” Wanda coos, sounding for all the world as though she truly believes every word of it.

Crack! This one lands directly across your sit spot, ripping a shriek from your lips as molten agony rocks you to your core.

“Wan’—Fuck, please, no—”

Crack!

“G—God, fuck, pleasestop, please—”

Crack!

“P—Please, hurtssobad, I’m—”

Crack!

“FUCK !”

Tears stream down your cheeks, wetting the black duvet beneath your face. You’re absolutely beside yourself with torment, your bare ass aflame with a pain unlike any you’ve ever known.

Crack!

… And the hits just keep coming—raining down stripes of blistering heat across your sore, bruised buttocks; pummeling your throbbing, exposed rear until it feels as though the entire area has just become one puffy, pulsating bruise.

Crack!

All the fight has completely gone out of you; now, your body completely slack—devoid of any resistance even as every hit seems to sear itself into your impossibly tender bottom like a third-degree burn… The pain is absolutely incredible, unlike any else you’ve ever known.

You’ll do anything—and you really do mean anything—to make it stop.

“P-P-Please, stop it, Wanda, PLEASE—”

Crack! Another hit directly across your burning sit spot rips a watery sob from your throat, followed by—

Crack!

It’s all you can do to keep yourself from hyperventilating until you pass out.

Crack!

Agony blackens the edge of your vision, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks as you await another strike…

But it doesn’t come.

Wh—?

“Have you learned your lesson, мила?” Wanda asks, and this time, her voice comes from closer… like she’s right beside you.

You don’t have it in you to be startled when a feather-light kiss lands itself between your shoulder blades, nor when one hand begins stroking up and down your heaving torso in soothing motions.

“Y-Yes! I—please, God, yes,” you babble, overwhelmed by the sensation of unadulterated pain branding every inch of your battered arse. “I promise I’ll never, ever, ever do it again, Wan’—Won’t ever be with anyone else—jus-just please stop hurting me—I’ll be so good, please—”

“Shh,” Wanda shushes you tenderly. You feel yourself twitch as the mattress suddenly dips beside you. “It’s okay, любима,” she soothes, coming to rest beside you. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe.”

‘Breathe’...

Your pulse thunders in your ears; your ass is on fire with an anguish far beyond your years; and yet, there’s something undoubtedly soothing about her words as they wash over you in gentle waves… something that tells you you’re safe.

Were you a little more lucid, you might’ve found that quite the nonsensical paradox—this feeling of safety and security with the woman who’d just beaten your arse raw without mercy no matter how you wailed and sobbed and begged for her to stop.

But as it is, you’re not.

Instead, you’re just broken and teary-eyed and in pain, and Wanda’s tenderness is a most welcome respite to alleviate that excruciating ache.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, even if it burns your lungs something awful, and force yourself to let it out slowly.

In, out.

In… out.

“That’s it, мила,” Wanda praises gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re doing so well… Just like that.” Her fingers come to rest beneath your chin, urging you to turn and face her…

And you do, far too exhausted to even think of doing anything other than what she tells you to. Your lungs burn; your nose runs; and the pain in your bottom hasn’t abated any—if anything, it’s intensified.

You’re more than happy to be given something else to focus on.

When you look at her, her blue-green eyes are wet—glossy with tears.

“Wanda?” you manage weakly, feeling your brow crease with worry. “You ‘kay?”

Wanda sniffles, huffs out a watery-sounding laugh. “Yes, Y/N, I’m alright,” she whispers, then leans forth to plant a gentle kiss upon the tip of your nose. “I’m just so very, very proud of you.”

Despite yourself, you feel a pleased flush spread throughout your body at that. “Really?” you mumble, exhaustion drooping your eyelids until it’s a challenge just to keep them open.

Wanda nods, a tear sliding out of her eye that you yearn to reach forth and catch with your thumb—but alas, you’re far too weak. “Really.”

You hum, burrowing your face further into the duvet beneath your cheek—even if it is still damp with your tears. “‘M sorry I was bad, Wan’,” you murmur, feeling darkness near on every side. “Didn’t mean’ta make you upset.”

“I don’t like punishing you, принцеса,” she says once more, and this time, you have no reason to doubt that she means it. Honestly, you don’t know how you ever could. “It hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

You hum again. Your eyelids feel too heavy to open. “‘M sorry,” you say. “Gonna do better… make you proud… I promise.”

Wanda chuckles. The sound of it makes your chest feel loose and warm and happy. “You already do, darling girl,” she murmurs. You don’t know if it’s because she’s whispering, or you’re fading into sleep, but you can barely hear her when she repeats it once more: “You already do.”

Sleep descends upon you, then, and you succumb to it willingly, feeling safer and more at peace than you have in a very long time.

— —

tagging:

[marvel]: @normanijauregui

— —

end notes: yeah i don’t know what this is either. i was only aiming for maybe 1,000 words or something, but things happened and...

look. i haven’t been to therapy in a hot minute, ok?

link to masterlist

#stuff i wrote #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #f!reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x f!reader #dark fic #mcu fic #marvel fic #scarlet witch x reader #dark!scarlet witch x reader #dark!scarlet witch #reader-insert #requested

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bangfantanfic · 4 years

Text

Our Own World: Chapter 3

Warnings: None???

Type: Not set genre

Authors Note: Hey~ again, so sorry I took so long ;-; I do have two jobs and both are basically full time so I haven’t got much time. This chapter isn’t as good as it could be, I apologise! But now shit can get spicy!!! I hope you guys enjoy 💕

Your brother's guilty face spread across your laptop screen as apologies tumbled past his lips.

“— it’s not like I wanted to be sneaky, I just really needed you!”

“Oh, come on Y/N don’t look at me like that!”

“I would’ve called sooner, you know that!”

Throughout his 25 minute speech on how sorry he was, then how he actually wasn’t sorry, but still was sorry, your brother groaned obnoxiously. It was late at night for him, his jet lag still messing with his body clock. Beside him Mila slept.

You were jealous of how heavy a sleeper she was.

“You’re the only person I could trust with this, Y/N.” He finally said, exhaustion coating his words. “Mom and dad are too interested in them, they would’ve made the boys uncomfortable. I knew you wouldn’t be interested in them from a scientific perspective. I just wanted them comfortable that I forgot about how you would feel.”

You narrowed your eyes at his confession, his face dropping at the expression.

“You’re lucky I didn’t leave.”

He nodded wildly, agreeing.

Your expression relaxed, your glasses sliding down your nose. You wish you could just leave. But you’re too involved now, and you weren’t one to give up so quickly.

“They’re good guys, Y/N. You should give them a chance.”

“Oh, you’re out!” A surprised voice chirped from behind you.

You spun on your heel, cheeks heating up as you caught sight of the familiar polar bear hybrid. He stood with his hands shoved into the pocket of a large brown sweater that hung not too far off his knees.

“Are you hungry? I made sure the boys didn’t eat everything, we’ve been rationing.” He explained, waving you over to follow him.

He led you into the kitchen, swinging open the fridge. His hands now resting on his thin waist as he stared at the contents. His pretty plump lips were pursed into a pout as he seemed to consider what there was to offer.

“Anything in particular you want?”

You weren’t actually that hungry. The house had been quiet, you thought maybe you had found the perfect opportunity to get some fresh air without being spotted.

Clearly, you failed.

But the excitement on the hybrids soft features made your heart clench. How could you possibly say no to him when he’s looking at you like that?

“A sandwich will be fine.” You smiled sheepishly, watching him nod to himself.

“The others are probably off sleeping somewhere,” Seokjin explained. “Hobi and Yoongi are out in the cages, but otherwise I’m guessing they’re sleeping.”

The cages?

You remembered that was where they had been when you first arrived. Your cheeks turned pink at the thought of them watching you fail at your one job.

Why would they be back out there?

Seokjin must’ve seen the frown on your face, quick to change the subject. He began to babble about how the younger boys had been on his back, bored and missing their gaming.

“You’ve probably noticed the two computers in your room,” He said knowingly. “That’s where we would game, but the boys are under strict orders not to go in there.” He laughed.

You nodded, they were the first thing you noticed when you found the room. Two large PC’s back to back, with multiple screens and fancy setups that you couldn’t even begin to understand, but you knew it all cost more than your entire education so you didn’t dare go near it. You knew your brother loved gaming, he always had. It was one of the only things the two of you had ever managed to bond over, even if you weren’t that good.

You felt bad. They’re all clearly bored, unable to leave the house without your brother and you had taken their favorite form of entertainment away, unintentionally but still.

“They’ll live, they have the console out here and phones. They’re just dramatic.” He laughed, cleaning up the mess from lunch.

“Hyung— oh,”

You stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, eyes glued to the hybrid in front of you that grinned at the new comer.

“Namjoon, back inside already?”

You shifted, turning to see a taller male. He had tan overalls on and a white, muddy shirt on underneath. His silver grey hair was fluffy, clearly not done and standing up in every direction, almost covering up the pointed ears on top of his head.

“It started to rain…” He trailed off, although he wasn’t talking to you he was staring you down, his tanned cheeks slightly pink. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.” He added sheepishly, a dirty hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

You nodded, smiling slightly “I’m Y/N.”

He nodded, smiling bigger. “It’s nice to see you out, I was starting to think we never would.” He admitted, carefully walking over to Seokjin.

He moved and spoke to you like a scared animal, how ironic.

You watched as Namjoon washed his hands in the sink, giving you a chance to get a good look at his face.

He was cute, his face round and eyes reminding you of a dragon. A rounded nose and deep dimples on either side of his cheeks. He was beautifully tanned reminding you of honey, and his smile as he listened to Seokjin just made him all the sweeter.

“Miss Y/N, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” Seokjin asked after a moment.

Namjoon’s head perked up at the question, and although he was trying to make it seem like he wasn’t watching your reaction, or listening to the conversation, you could see him watching your through his eyelashes as he pretended to clean under his nails.

“Ah, I guess if you guys don’t mind?”

“Oh—ow dammit Namjoon, be careful!” Seokjin scolded, making you jump at the raise in tone.

Namjoon flushed bright red, straightening up and grabbing his silky tail. “Sorry hyung, I didn’t mean it!”

The two bickered, Seokjin telling the younger to be more careful with his emotions if he couldn’t control the physical side of it. Meanwhile Namjoon complained that he needs to word things better because he sounded gross.

Maybe for once your brother was right.

The lead up to dinner was nerve wracking. You had spent the remaining hours in your room scolding yourself for agreeing.

You weren’t sure if you should dress somewhat nice? It would be your first time meeting them, did you want to make a good impression? After all they probably all thought you were a scared, stuck up princess.

Scared? Definitely.

A stuck up princess? Maybe a little.

In the end you just settled on what you had put on that morning after your shower. Sweatpants and hoodie. It’s not like you had to impress them.

Right?

“Miss Y/N?”

Your pacing halted. The voice was familiar, but definitely not Seokjin familiar.

“It’s Namjoon, Jin told me to see if you wanted me to walk with you to the kitchen?”

He sounded just as nervous as you felt. You quickly agreed, swinging open your door and almost sighing in relief when you saw him in a similar outfit to your own.

The walk to the kitchen seemed to drag, Namjoon taking him time as he explained a few things about his “brothers” to you.

“Jimin and Taehyung might be a little much, they’re pretty social. Hoseok is pretty loud, he loves to socialise as well.” He had told you, holding three fingers up as his listed people off. “Yoongi and Jeongguk, they may seem rude and maybe even intimidating, but they’re softies. They’re just wary of new people, which is understandable.” He concluded, looking down at you with a small smile.

“Everyone is super nice, I promise.”

When you both arrived at the kitchen three others were already seated, and Seokjin was running back and forth from the table to the stove. Three backs faced you, white hair, brown hair and black hair.

They didn’t turn to acknowledge the new arrivals in the kitchen, but it was obvious they knew you had arrived. The way their backs tended up and ears twitched gave it away.

Namjoon placed a large hand to the back of your shoulder softly, noticing your anxiety. He had honestly expected you to flinch away from his touch. But instead when you leaned into his touch, practically burying yourself into the side of him, he practically disintegrated where he stood. Just when he thought the pink on his cheeks couldn’t get any worse you looked up at him, glasses hanging low on your nose, through your eyelashes and gave him a weak smile.

And that was all it took.

“Boys, why don’t we all introduce ourselves?” Seokjin said once he was seated beside you at the head of the table.

Seokjin sat to your left and Namjoon to your right. Across from you was a boy with white hair and soft features, to his right was a boy with brown hair and then finally, another with black. Two of the three smiled at you, one more shyly than the other, while the third kept his eyes to his plate.

“I’ll go first,” Seokjin suggested, clearing his throat. He shifted himself in his seat so he was facing you properly, a warm smile on his thick lips. “I’m Seokjin, you can call me Jin. I’m, as you know, a polarbear hybrid.”

You smiled, nodding your head. You liked Seokjin. He gave you a warm, cosy, homey vibe which was something you hadn’t felt around anyone else other than your brother. But even then it was a different feeling.

From beside you Namjoon spoke next.

“Namjoon, I’m a wolf— Alaskan interior wolf to be specific.”

You frowned, you had just assumed all wolves were the same. You didn’t realise that there were multiple different breeds. When it comes to animals you really were clueless.

“I’m Taehyung, we already met when you were sleeping!”

“Taehyung, that’s creepy.” The white haired boy snorted, rolling his eyes. The brown haired boy frowned for a moment, thinking before he grinned. A large boxy smile that showed off his teeth and squinted his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running long fingers through his hair. “I’m a capuchin.” He added, his tail flicking out from behind and waving. “Not, a furry.”

You wanted to glare, or even flip the grinning boy across from you off. But instead you felt your cheeks burn red and your body curling in on itself. You had a feeling the boy wasn’t going to let your insult go.

You didn’t notice Namjoon glare at the monkey hybrid, or the warning look that Jin shot the boy before turning his attention to Jimin.

The white haired boy smiled, and at first glance you would’ve mistaken the smile as shy. But you knew better.

“I’m Jimin, Arctic fox.” He introduced simply, leaning back into his chair. You noticed he was sitting with his legs crossed in his seat, long fluffy white tail wrapped around his stomach as his brown eyes sized you up.

“And the last one is Jeongguk, he’s your age.”

Your eyes met with the dark haired boys, your back stiffening when you noticed he was already staring at you. He didn’t make any move to look away, in fact his glare seemed to get icier the longer you looked. Your head shot down, eyes to your bitten nails.

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

Dinner went by smoothly. Namjoon was proud of his pack, for the most part they made sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were even smiling and occasionally, even though you tried to hide it, he heard you laugh. He wanted to hear you laugh properly. Out loud, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. So he left you to laugh to yourself.

He couldn’t help himself throughout the meal, moving closer hoping you didn’t notice the way he inched his chair closer to yours until they were barely a few centimetres apart. You were warm, heat radiating off like the fireplace in the living room. It was his favourite spot to be too, curled up with a book in hand, glasses perched on his nose and the fire roaring beside him. You felt just like that moment.

You were pretty, glasses snuggly sitting on the bridge of your nose, shiny eyes focusing intensely on whoever spoke, all your focus and interest pouring into the one person. Your nose was a cute button shape, and your lips naturally poured, thinning slightly whenever they were stretched back into a smile.

You were easy to read, every emotion spilling across your face. He wasn’t sure if you meant to be like that, but he was thankful for it. He could see how nervous you were the entire night, see how tensed and stiff your shoulders were. It took his entire restraint to not rest a hand on your thigh and to promise you were safe with him by your side.

He really didn't want to scare you off.

After dinner Namjoon was sent off to take the missing two their dinners while the younger three were left to clean up. Seokjin happily accompanied you back to your room, a bright smile on his lips as he babbled away about how well behaved his brothers were. It was sweet how proud he was, and you had to agree for the most part they made sure you were comfortable.

You were surprised how much you had enjoyed the night. Sure you were filled to the brim with anxiety that at some point someone would snap and tear your jugular out, but they all seemed weirdly human too, even with the unique body differences.

Namjoon had made himself closer to you throughout the night, and oddly enough the act didn’t terrify you. It was actually comforting. At one point you had to remind yourself that just because he, and the others, looked more human than animal didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear you limb from limb. Maybe him moving closer was a hunting strategy. But then you realised just how awkward he seemed to feel, the way his foot was bouncing off the floor. How he gnawed away at his poor bottom lip and was practically sitting on his hands to keep them at bay.

His round, dimpled cheeks were flushed pink the entire night, and every so often you could feel him staring.

But there was no way in hell you’d call him out on it.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You pinched your leg, smiling. And for the first time since arrived it was actually genuine. “I’m actually really good! I had fun.”

The blonde smiled, his eyes crinkling and thick lips thinning ever so slightly. You don’t think you’ll ever get use to how inhumanly beautiful he is.

Usually, beautiful isn’t a word you would say to describe a man, mostly because you remember how annoyed your brother would get every time your mother said it, but in this situation you couldn’t help it.

The man was the definition of beauty.

“We had fun too. I hope this means we’ll see you more often?” He looked nervous, his fingers tightly gripping the other hands. You could see he looked hopefully even with his face near only showing anxiety.

“Definitely.”

#bts #bts scenario #bts hybrid #btsxreader #bts reaction #bts fanfic #bts jeongguk #bts writing #poly bts #hybrid bts x reader #Our Own World

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Alone in the Ashes {7}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Enjoy this long, emotionally charged chapter. Review trigger warnings above..

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“Have you ever had so much to say that your mouth closed up tight struggling to harness the nuclear force coalescing within your words? Have you ever had so many thoughts churning inside you that you didn’t dare let them escape in case they blew you wide open? Have you ever been so angry that you couldn’t look in the mirror for fear of finding the face of evil glaring back at you?” ― Ellen Hopkins, Crank

Mor was at Azriel’s.

Feyre knew, because she had called her in a panic. After waking up to a naked Rhysand on the couch, his arm tossed around her waist, Feyre snuck away and closed herself in the bathroom, where she called Mor.

Hi, I need you, something happened.

Are you okay? I’m at Azriel’s, got in early. Come over.

After throwing on a pair of athletic leggings and a tank top, Feyre slipped on her flip flops and was running to the other side of the apartment complex, where she knocked quietly on Azriel’s door.

Mor opened it up, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand. “Well, hello, beautiful.”

“I fucked Rhys,” she whispered.

The two stared at one another in silence, Mor’s eyes wide, the mug in her hand long forgotten. She looked over her shoulder at the quiet apartment - Azriel and Mila must have still been asleep - and took a step outside, closing the door gently behind her. “You did what?”

The panic set in again. “I….we had a little bit to drink and then, I don’t know, we were talking about that one time he banged Macy Woodsworth in high school, then I told him I had a sex dream about him, and it all escalated pretty quickly after that.”

Mor blinked, lips parted. “You...slept with Rhys.”

Feyre’s face fell into her hands. “Fuck me.”

“It sounds like my cousin already did.”

Feyre’s hands fell to her side and she glared at Mor, who was smiling.

“Why are you smiling?” Feyre whined, sitting on the concrete outside of Azriel’s apartment.

“Well, this is a good thing, right?” Mor asked, sitting next to her, legs crossed. “I mean, Rhysand has been in love with you for years, and you obviously care for him.”

Feyre tensed. “What?”

Mor rolled her eyes. “Don’t act like you’ve never noticed. Everyone knows.”

“He’s my best friend-”

“No, no,” Mor said, taking a sip of her coffee. “Don’t give me that shit. Yes, he is your best friend. You two know each other more than anyone else. You have a bond that is unbreakable. To me, that sounds like the foundation of some solid soulmate-shit.”

Feyre fell silent. Rhysand was in love with her. He had never said anything, never hinted at it. But, Mor was right. There were times when he would look at her, and she knew.

“The second I woke up this morning, I felt so peaceful,” Feyre began, remembering the early morning light streaming through the living room window, lighting up his tanned skin. “But then I started to freak the fuck out. What if that was a mistake? What if I mess it up? What if we were to try something, and then it went to shit? Or, what if we don’t try something, and then it’s awkward because we had sex? I don’t want to lose him, Mor. He has been my one constant for all these years.”

“Want to know what I think?” Mor asked.

Feyre nodded.

“You need to go wake his ass up and talk to him about it,” she said, patting Feyre’s knee.

Feyre sighed. Of course, Mor would say the one thing she didn’t want to do. “I know.”

Mor smiled, and took her friend’s hand. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Feyre winked. “Sorry I woke you up so early to tell you that I banged your cousin.”

Mor shrugged. “I like being the first to know things.”

Feyre snorted, and repeated, “I missed you.”

Mor grinned. “We’re going out tonight. I expect you and Rhysand to have talked it out and not make it awkward.”

Feyre nudged Mor’s shoulder. “Yeah, thanks, no pressure.”

“Just saying,” Mor crooned. “If you show up acting weird, I’m getting you drunk and making you sing Madonna on karaoke again.”

Feyre would never live that down.

A few minutes later, she was walking back toward her and Rhysand’s apartment. The walk seemed to take forever, the nerves inside of her stomach growing wild and untameable.

But when she opened their door and let herself inside, Rhysand was gone.

~~~~~

“I’m fucking coming!”

Cassian stumbled out of his bedroom and down the hall, Bryaxis on his heels. He glanced at the clock above the stove as he passed the kitchen.

It was just after 8.

The knocking started again just as Cassian was throwing open the door, still half asleep. “Rhys?”

Rhys was covered in sweat, his shirt off and tossed over his shoulder. “Hi. Yeah. Good morning.”

He swept past Cassian, into his apartment.

“Did you run here?” Cassian asked, brows raised.

Rhysand nodded.

“Are you-“

“I had sex last night.”

Cassian halted, then nodded. “Nice. Proud of you. Thanks for coming by so early on a fucking Saturday to let me know.”

Rhysand mumbled something as he opened Cassians fridge.

“Hmm?” Cassian asked, closing his apartment door and pulling a chair out from the kitchen table. Once he sat, Bryaxis laid by his feet.

Rhysand closed the fridge and leaned against the counter. As he opened the water bottle he had grabbed, he said, “With Feyre.”

Cassian blinked, then a smile spread wide across his face. “Well, it’s about damn time.”

Rhysand rubbed his temples with his index fingers. “No, you don’t - she was gone before I woke up this morning. I tried calling her, but her phone was on the kitchen table. She’s fucking ignoring me. Probably regrets it.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Doubtful. I bet everything I have on the fact that you’re overreacting.”

“Feyre doesn’t just get up and haul ass in the morning,” Rhysand continued, lost in his thoughts.

With a sigh, Cassian got up and pulled a bottle of whiskey off the counter and a glass out of the cabinet. He poured it a fourth of the way up the side and handed it to Rhysand.

“It’s eight o clock in the morning.”

“Yeah, well,” Cassian said, pushing the glass into Rhysand’s chest. “You need it.”

Taking the glass, Rhysand hopped up onto the counter top and gulped it down.

“Take it easy,” Cassian muttered. “Did something happen? Was it awkward? Like that one time with Macy Woodsworth?”

Rhysand shot him a glare. Cassian brought up the Macy Woodsworth situation at every opportunity. “No. It was great. Natural.”

“Was she...pleased?”

Rhysand took a deep breath in before punching Cassian in the shoulder.

He just laughed. “Ow. I’m just saying. It’s a valid question. Maybe her expectations were too high….”

“Prick,” Rhysand mumbled. “Trust me, I did my part well.”

“And did she?”

“I hate you.”

“Just curious.” Cassian grinned. “Look, I’m sure she’ll be waiting at the apartment when you get back. Alright? We’re all going out tonight, though, and if you two make it weird, I swear I’ll kick your ass.”

“I-”

“Go home, Rhys. Proclaim your love. Have a Shakespeare moment.”

Rhysand lifted a brow. “A Shakespeare moment?”

“Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet,” Cassian said, pulling a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

“I’m assuming you’ve never actually paid attention to Romeo and Juliet, Cass.”

“True,” he agreed. “Not the point. Go home. Talk to Feyre.”

“But I-”

“Home. Feyre. Fucking go.”

Rhysand’s lips tightened but he nodded. “Fine.”

“Good boy,” Cassian grinned. “And I’ll see you both tonight.”

Rhysand mumbled something incomprehensible before flipping him off, giving Bryaxis a quick tummy rub, and storming out.

He was always so over-dramatic.

“Wanna go for a walk, Ax?”

Cassian had barely gotten the words out before Bryaxis was running toward him. After hooking his leash onto his collar, Cassian slipped on his tennis shoes and fled.

Cassian preferred walking in the morning. The heat wasn’t out in full force yet. Bryaxis, however, liked walking, always, and getting him out of the house was much easier than getting him back in.

“Do you ever wear a shirt?”

Cassian tugged on Bryaxis’ leash and turned around. Walking behind him, along the Sidra, was Nesta, one earbud in her ear. She wore a pair of shorts, a black sports bra, and her tennis shoes.

Cassian looked over his shoulder, then back to Nesta. “Shit, are you talking to me?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I already regret it.”

Cassian smirked. “And you’re admiring my body, it seems.”

“Asking you why you’re half nude is not the same as admiring you,” Nesta said, stopping in front of him, hands across her chest. “You shouldn’t think so highly of yourself.”

Cassian shrugged. “Someone has to.”

He swore she almost smiled.

“Look,” she began, looking away. “I was going to come by later. To tell you thank you. For yesterday.”

Cassian tried not to look too shocked. “What are neighbors for?”

She nodded, starting to walk past him. “Right. Well, I’ll see you around, then.”

Cassian watched as she picked up her pace before calling out, “Hey! A bunch of us are going out tonight, you should come.”

Nesta turned around, jogging backwards. “Don’t push it.” She turned her back to him, and then she was gone.

~~~~~

Azriel cursed. “When was the last time we all went out together? High school?”

“Something like that,” Mor grinned. She looked in the backseat, at Mila. “Are you excited to play with your friend?”

“Yes!” Mila grinned, just as they pulled into the driveway. “We’re here!”

Azriel laughed as he parked his truck. “Be right back.”

Mor nodded and bid Mila goodbye.

She hopped out of the truck into Azriel’s arms and, along with her backpack, he carried her to the front door and rang the bell. Elain opened the door a second later, smile bright. “Hi, Mila!”

“Lain!” she giggled.

Azriel set her down. “Hey, thank you again for agreeing to watch her.”

Azriel had felt uncomfortable asking, but he didn’t trust many people with Mila, and Mila really seemed to get along well with Elain.

“It’s really no problem,” she smiled, leaning against the doorway. “I figure we’ll play some games, have dinner, and watch a movie.”

“Yay!” Mila laughed, bringing her backpack inside.

“Sounds great,” Azriel said, attempting his best smile, hoping he didn’t look too unconvincing. “I’ll be back around 10 or so, if that’s not too late.”

“Not at all,” Elain said, eyes soft. “You have my number. Feel free to call.”

“Likewise,” Azriel said. “Alright, Mila. I’m leaving. I love you. Be good, please.”

She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “I’m always good!”

Azriel snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Go enjoy yourself,” Elain said. She truly had a beautiful smile. “We’ll be fine.”

Azriel nodded. “No, I know. I just...call me if you need anything, yeah?”

Elain nodded. “Of course.”

After one last goodbye to Mila, Azriel was back in the car. The second he closed the door, Mor was staring him down.

“Yes?” Azriel sighed, pulling out of the driveway.

“You are so into her,” Mor said, shaking her head.

“Wipe that smile off your face,” Azriel said. “No, I’m not.”

“Are too. I was watching every second of that.”

Azriel eyed her. “You couldn’t even see my face.”

“Az, honey, I’ve known you for a long time. I know your body language. I have never seen you as relaxed as you were for those three minutes.” Mor grinned. “You’re fucking smitten.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “I don’t even know her. All I know is that she was the fucking prom queen. Do you know what I did at prom? I was getting baked under the bleachers.”

“Well, we’re not in high school anymore, are we,” Mor added, clearly amused. “You should ask her out.”

“No.”

“You should know by now that I don’t take no for an answer.”

Azriel just laughed, and shook his head. “You drive me crazy.”

“But you love me.”

“Yes,” Azriel sighed. “Yes, I do.”

~~~~~

“Just come to the bar, alright? I’ll ask the guys if they know where he’s at.”

“Fine. Be there in ten.”

Mor hung up. Feyre had called her nearly ten times that day, freaking out. Although, if Mor slept with her roommate and that roommate had avoided her all day, Mor probably would freak out, too.

She sat back at their table in the corner alongside Azriel and Cassian.

“Have either of you heard from Rhysand today?”

Azriel shook his head, but Cassian sighed. “Yeah, he showed up at my place way too early this morning. He was panicking.”

Mor raised a brow. “Is he still at your apartment?”

Cassian chuckled. “Fuck no, he left like twenty minutes later.”

“Why was he panicking?” Azriel asked, sipping his rum.

“Because he slept with Feyre,” Mor and Cassian said, simultaneously.

Azriel slowly set his glass back down on the table. “And I’m the only one that didn’t know?”

Before either could reply, a small woman with short, black hair and a deep, green mini dress slid into the booth next to Cassian.

He grinned, throwing his arm around her. “Ah, Amren. How I’ve missed you.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and Amren just scoffed. “Don’t flatter me. Continue talking about how Rhys fucked Feyre, please.”

Azriel blinked. “Seriously? You knew? You just got here!”

“I’ve seen it coming for some time,” Amren grinned, and Mor loved that grin, because it typically terrified men.

Too bad the two men at the table were used to that grin.

“Can you see where Rhys is now?” Mor asked. “Because, apparently, he’s missing.”

“And Feyre?” Amren asked.

“On her way,” Mor supplied. “She’s been wound up tight all day. The woman needs a drink.”

“Well, good thing we’re at a bar,” Cassian said, calling the waitress for a pitcher of beer.

Then, his smile faded as he looked toward the door. “Ah, fuck.”

Mor looked over her shoulder where Rhysand stumbled in. He was still wearing his running clothes, which were wrinkly and surely smelled like shit. He saw his friends and waved, obnoxiously, before heading to the table.

“Mor,” he smiled, eyes glazed and lids heavy. “Amren, fuck, so fucking nice to see you. Welcome home.”

“You okay, bud?” Azriel asked, cautiously.

“Oh, I’m fucking great,” Rhysand beamed. “Yeah, no, I’m so...so fucking great.”

“Have you been back home today?” Mor asked. “Feyre’s been looking for you.”

Rhysand’s hand clutched his chest and he frowned. “Oh, fucking Feyre, I fucking...No, no no no, I’ve been ignoring her. Because she hates me.” He threw his hands in the air.

“How much have you drunk? Have you been drinking all day?” Cassian asked. “Because you're scaring me. You know, a little.”

“Let him make a fool of himself,” Amren muttered. “Entertainment for all.”

“Let’s sober him up before Feyre gets here,” Mor said, reaching for Rhysand’s hand.

But he stumbled back. “Feyre,” he began, “is coming now? Oh, no, no, no...I’m not-not ready.”

But the front door opened, once more, and Feyre came in. She spotted them all, then Rhysand, and froze, before taking a deep breath and walking their direction.

“Feyre!” he called out to her, holding his arms open. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

Feyre eyed him wearily as she approached, then turned to the others. “He’s already “fuck” drunk?”

Rhysand’s mouth became significantly dirtier as his alcohol consumption increased, it was true.

“Yeah,” Mor said. “He was drunk when he got here.”

Feyre blinked, then looked to Rhys. “Rhys-”

“D-Dance with me,” he slurred, before grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the dance floor.

“Poor Feyre,” Azriel muttered.

“Poor Rhys,” Cassian followed. “Because I’m never going to let him live this down. This falls right under Macy Woodsworth.”

Amren snorted. “For someone so handsome, he certainly knows how to embarrass himself.”

Mor watched him dance with Feyre, brow furrowed. Rhysand wasn’t okay. She knew her cousin, he didn’t get this drunk for no reason. He was in love with Feyre, she knew he was, but something wasn’t right. He had waited for years to have a moment like this with her, and now, he was drunk as fuck and acting like an idiot.

Feyre let him swing her around the dance floor, but she was watching him intently.

“Should I go save her?” Mor asked. “Come on, Az.”

Azriel hesitated. “What? Why me?”

“Cause you’re sitting next to me and Cassian likes dancing with Amren. She lies and tells him how great he is.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a great dancer.”

Amren grinned, that little, wicked grin. “Yes, you are. Now come.”

Cassian followed Amren out of the booth, sticking his tongue out at Mor as he did so.

Mor just rolled her eyes. “Come on, Az. Please. For me.”

Azriel sighed. “I hate dancing.””

“But you love me,” she smiled, pulling on his hand. Reluctantly, Azriel let her drag him out onto the floor, next to Rhysand and Feyre.

Feyre was watching Rhysand wearily.

“You okay?” Mor mouthed, as Azriel pulled Mor into his arms. As much as he claimed he hated dancing, he was a lovely dancer.

Feyre nodded, attempting a smile, but Mor knew better: her eyes were full of worry.

“Enjoy yourself,” Azriel whispered into her ear. “They can take care of themselves.”

Mor knew he was right, but it was hard watching your closest friend and your cousin in such an odd situation. “Fine,” she called back. “Now, tell me how you’ll ask Elain out.”

Azriel shook his head, but he was smiling, faintly. “You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

She nodded, and twirled herself around. “Yes, yes I do.”

~~~~~

“I like this movie.”

Elain had dug up The Land Before Time, which her father had kept through the years from her childhood. It was on VHS, but was eventually transferred to a DVD, which was how they were now watching it.

“I like Littlefoot,” Mila continued. “He’s nice.”

“Yes, he is,” Elain chuckled. “Your uncle will be coming to get you soon, but I think we’ll be able to finish the movie before then.”

Mila looked over at Elain, on the opposite end of the couch. “Do you think Uncle Azzie is cute?”

Elain’s brows rose. “Why do you ask that?”

Mila shrugged. “Some girls at the store were telling Uncle Azzie he was cute. Do you think he’s cute?”

“I suppose so,” Elain said, trying not to laugh.

“He thinks you’re cute, too,” she said, looking back toward the t.v.

Elain froze. “Why do you say that?”

“I asked him,” she said, as if it were nothing.

Then again, could she really trust the word of a four year old?

“Well, that’s very kind,” Elain continued, unable to find anything else to say.

“I love Uncle Az,” Mila smiled, stifling a yawn. “But I miss mama.”

Elain watched the little girl for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry to hear that, Mila.”

Mila looked over at Elain. “Uncle Az says she has to go bye-bye. I won’t see her for a long time.”

Elain tried to connect the dots, but came up short.

“Will you marry Uncle Azzie?” Mila asked, when Elain said nothing.

Elain nearly choked on nothing, the air growing thicker. “I don’t think so, Mila.”

“But I want you to,” she said. “I like you.”

“I like you, too,” Elain said.

Mila didn’t say anything more after that. She watched the movie for about five more minutes before she was sleeping soundly.

It wasn’t much longer until the doorbell rang, and Elain hurried toward the door. Azriel stood on the front porch, hands in his pockets.

“Right on time,” Elain said, stifling a grin. “You could’ve stayed later, you know. She’s been great.”

“I have trouble letting loose,” he said, then shrugged. “So I’m told.”

Elain laughed, and nodded. “I see. Well, she’s asleep on the couch.”

She stepped aside and, after a polite nod, Azriel came in. He saw Mila and chuckled. “She’s an interesting four-year-old, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Elain agreed. “She’s very….observant.”

Azriel’s smile wavered, but he nodded. “Yes, she is.”

Elain grabbed Mila’s unicorn backpack off a chair in the corner and handed it to Azriel. He put it over his shoulder.

“Thank you, again,” he said, quietly, smiling at Elain. For once, his smile didn’t seem forced. “Really, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Elain said. “Truly.”

That smile returned, and Elain felt it throughout every inch of her body.

Azriel scooped Mila up off the couch and cradled her in his arms.

Azriel walked to the door, but then he stopped. “Hey, um, I was….wondering. I know we don’t know each other that well, at all, really, but, I...would you like to go out to dinner? Maybe Friday night?”

Elain froze. He was asking her out? She hesitated, and a nervous laugh shook her body. “Okay. Sure. Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Elain nodded, that nervous laugh returning.

Azriel smiled, and cleared his throat. “Alright. Great. I’ll text you?”

Elain bit her lip. “Perfect.”

“Okay,” Azriel said, quietly.

“Okay,” Elain said, too.

Azriel laughed quietly as he pushed open the door and carried Mila to his truck. “Goodnight, Elain.”

“Goodnight,” she breathed, but the door had already shut. She watched him put Mila into her car seat, then got behind the wheel, himself.

She noticed a woman sitting in the passenger side.

She must be a friend.

Family, maybe.

After they drove away, Elain gingerly shut the door and leaned back against it, the Land Before Time still playing in the background.

He’d asked her out.

Elain was going out on a date.

~~~~~

“Not that I don’t love having you, but why don’t you wanna stay with your parents?”

Amren snorted. “My dad is a dick and my mom kisses his ass. I prefer the company of Bryaxis.”

Cassian laughed, under his breath. “Not my company?”

Amren debated it. She shrugged. “You’re the bonus.”

“I’ll take it,” Cassian grinned, pulling into his parking spot. “Speaking of Bryaxis, he’s probably aching to go out.”

He got out, and Amren was close behind. She had left her belongings at her parents house earlier that day. She’d stopped to visit them before she took the bus to meet the others at the bar. She promised to get her bag filled with necessities tomorrow; but, until then, she’d sleep in Cassian’s old Velaris High Basketball tee.

They reached his apartment, and went inside. The moment they entered, Bryaxis was jumping up on Amren.

“I’ll never understand why he likes you more than me,” Cassian muttered.

Amren grinned as she scratched Bryaxis behind his ears. “I love you too, Ax. Yes I do.”

Cassian slipped off his boots and crashed on the couch. “So, tell me what’s been going on lately. What have I missed while you’re away at school?”

Amren sighed. “In a year, I will finally have my degree and be able to open my own law practice. Until then, I will be hiding away in my apartment in Adriata, hoping all the other college assholes leave me alone. I’m so fucking sick of going to school.”

Cassian chuckled. “Well, I’m proud of you. You’re almost done.”

Amren agreed and stretched out on the floor, alongside Bryaxis. “I met a guy.”

Cassian’s gaze snapped to where she laid atop the rug. “Yeah?”

Amren nodded, still focused on petting Bryaxis. “Yeah. Varian. He’s a good guy.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll pretend I’m not offended that you didn’t tell me.”

Shaking her head, Amren snorted. “Mor knows, but that’s all. I didn’t want to tell everyone if it was nothing.”

“And?” Cassian asked, tossing an arm behind his head. “Is it nothing?”

Amren took a moment to answer. She laid on the rug, petting Abraxos, who was in Heaven. “He’s special.”

Cassiain’s smile softened as he said, “Good.”

The two sat in silence for a moment - a comfortable silence. He and Amren had known each other since high school. They had spent many nights, up late talking about everything and nothing. After Cassian’s mother died his senior year, it was Amren who laid awake with him at night, sitting with him in complete silence, keeping him company so he didn’t feel so alone.

“What about you?” Amren asked. “Is there a woman?”

A woman with spiteful, gray-blue eyes popped into his mind, but he quickly shook the thought away. “Happily single.”

“Which means you have a lot of meaningless sex.”

Cassian laughed, voice light. “Sex isn’t such a bad thing.”

Amren was quiet for a moment before she said, “It’s better when you care about the person, though.”

Cassian stayed quiet. She wasn’t wrong, he knew as much. And he agreed with her. But, finding someone you cared about, who cared about you, too, was much easier said than done.

“Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find that soon, then,” he said, quietly.

Amren had closed her eyes, but she still said, “You will, Cassian. I know it.”

“Since when did you become such a romantic?” he laughed.

“Since Varian,” she confessed. “Since I grew older and realized there was more to companionship than pleasure.”

Cassian sighed. “I’m too busy at work to find anything serious.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” Amren scoffed. “You spend half your time rebuilding motorcycles. That doesn’t affect your ability to find someone who cares for you, Cass. We’re inching up into our thirties, it’s time to settle down.”

Thirties.

Cassian groaned. He felt like, just yesterday, they were all seventeen without a care in the world. Then, suddenly, they were adults. He was twenty-seven. There was only so much time left. Life went by fast. Some days he felt like an adult, sure, but other days he felt like a kid playing dress up, pretending to have his shit together when he really didn’t.

“This Varian guy,” Cassian began, “he treats you good, yeah?”

Amren nodded, and she smiled, and for once her smile didn’t make Cassian fear for his life. “Yeah, he does.”

“Good,” Cassian whispered, and the room fell quiet.

He closed his eyes, wondering what his neighbor across the hall was doing. He couldn’t read her, not one bit. Last night, she was biting his head off. And yet, this morning, she had thanked him.

Maybe he would invite her over for a drink, one more time.

Really. How many times could she say no?

~~~~~

By the time Feyre dragged Rhysand into their apartment, he was finally starting to sober up. Considering he was already drunk as hell when he got to the bar, they all vowed to let him not drink anything else - besides water. It worked, for the most part, although Feyre caught him sneaking a shot out of the corner of her eye at one point.

The car ride was silent, and she only had to pull over once for him to puke on the side of the road.

The moment he walked through the front door, he was stumbling to the couch, eyes half-closed.

Feyre got him some ibuprofen and a lemon-lime Gatorade before plopping down next to him.

“Here,” she said.

He took them, gladly.

Then, he asked, “Are you going to yell at me?”

Feyre shrugged.

Rhysand sighed, closing his eyes. “I wish you would. Yelling is better than silence.”

“Yelling would imply that I’m mad,” Feyre said.

“Aren’t you?” he asked.

Feyre took a minute to consider. No, she wasn’t mad. She was confused. “I’m not mad, Rhys, I just….where the fuck were you all day? After last night…” Feyre’s words trailed off and she tried to convince herself that her eyes were growing blurry because she was tired.

Rhysand must have heard it in her voice because he opened his eyes and looked at her. And she knew the emotion that sparked in those beautiful, violet eyes: guilt.

He hung his head as he said, “I know, I was an idiot today. But, I woke up and you were gone, and I panicked.” He met her gaze, his brows furrowed. “I thought that, if you were hauling ass so early in the goddamn morning that I did something wrong. So, I went for a run, somehow ended up on the other side of town at Cassian’s, and his go-to for everything is whiskey, so he gave me a shot, and that calmed me down, but then he kicked me out because I was being a fucking idiot, so I left, and I was coming back here….but then I passed a bar where everything on draft was half price, so I went in there….”

Feyre was trying not to laugh now, and Rhysand gave her an apologetic smile.

“Long story short,” he went on, “is that I got intolerably drunk and made a fool of myself.”

“Mhmm,” Feyre grinned, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah, you did.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand whispered, and placed his palm gently, lovingly, against her cheek.

She leaned into his touch.

“I was at Az’s this morning,” Feyre said. “Seeing Mor. Because I was panicking, too.”

Rhysand tensed.

“Not because I regret it,” Feyre added, quickly. Rhysand’s body relaxed. “We’ve just been friends for so long, Rhys, and you’re the most important person in my life. I thought that you might regret last night, or that we’d start...dating, or whatever, and I would mess it up. Then I got worried because I thought it may be too soon, after Tamlin, you know? I mean, I know our relationship was shit for a long time, but I only moved out a month ago. Then, after he knocked you on your ass last week-”

“I was unprepared,” Rhysand muttered.

Feyre huffed a laugh, fingers grazing over the fading bruise on his cheek. “That’s not the point.”

Rhysand nodded, smiling affectionately. He held Feyre’s hand in his as he said, “I won’t pretend that I know what’s going to happen with us, Feyre, but even if one of us messes this up somewhere along the line - which, it would definitely be me, I think I proved that today - I wanna do it. I wanna do this, us. I don’t regret last night. I could never regret it, Feyre, I’ve wanted to do that for a fucking long time, with you.”

Those tears returned to Feyre’s eyes, and she cursed herself for getting so emotional. But it was Rhysand, her Rhys, and she couldn’t help it.

“I love you, Feyre,” he breathed. “I have always loved you.”

Feyre laughed, and she didn’t know why she was laughing, why she was crying while she was laughing. Confusion swept over Rhysand, but even he was unable to stop his smile as he watched her.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” he said, smiling brightly as he wiped away her tears.

“Because today was ridiculous,” she said, laughter still lacing her tone. “Rhys, I love you, too. You know I do.”

Her voice was quiet, but Rhysand clung to every word.

“I’m sorry I was gone this morning,” she said, pushing his hair back, off his forehead.

Rhysand chuckled. “I’m sorry I was getting drunk all day.”

Feyre laughed, and Rhysand leaned into kiss her, but she stopped him, fingers against his mouth. “Take a shower, brush your teeth, and meet me in my bed.”

Rhysand’s eyes lit up, and then he smiled, playfully. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh no,” Feyre said, shaking her head. “That smile - I don’t trust that smile.”

Rhysand stood up from the couch and pulled Feyre toward him, picking her up, tossing her over his shoulder.

Feyre yelped, and laughed. He was still in the clothes he wore running that morning. “You smell so gross!”

Rhysand’s body shook with laughter, and then he bit her ass, through her jeans, which was right by his face - which, Feyre was certain, was why he picked her up in such a position.

Feyre shrieked and smacked him in the back as he brought her into the bathroom, started the shower, and stripped her down.

~~~~~

Nesta couldn’t sleep.

Her father’s words replayed in her mind. They were always replaying in her mind. Everyone says you shouldn’t hate your blood, but Nesta loathed that man.

Your mother…good thing she didn’t wait to see how you turned out.

Maybe he’d been right. Her mother would not be impressed with her. She would surely be ashamed, disappointed, embarrassed.

Maybe it was better that she was dead.

The thought shook through Nesta’s core, and she instantly felt guilty for thinking such a thing. Her mother had been a saint - a kind, beautiful woman.

Nesta tried to convince herself to cry at her mother’s memory, but nothing came.

Emotionless.

Numb.

She wandered into her bathroom and flicked on the lights, cringing at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, her eyes glazed over from exhaustion and the bottle of chardonnay she had downed. She barely filled out the thin, black nightgown she had on. She’d barely eaten that day, barely eaten since the failed dinner the night before. Constant anxiety and crippling depression had that effect.

She opened the top drawer and took out a bottle of painkillers, prescribed to Tomas after his shoulder surgery the year before.

She took out two, took out her toothbrush from the glass toothbrush holder, and used the bottom of it to crush them up until they became a fine, clumpless powder. She found a thin comb and used the straight end to gather the remnants into as much of a straight line as she could. .

She pulled back her hair and took one last look in the mirror.

No.

Her mother would not be proud.

Her father was definitely not proud, even though he was no better than she was.

Elain was worried.

Feyre ignored her.

Tomas, the dick that he was, even thought she wasn’t worth it.

But none of it bothered her.

“Fuck,” she breathed, anger brewing. She just wanted to fucking feel something, anything, other than fucking anger, all the fucking time. “Fuck!”

She was tired of it.

Tired of the numbness.

Tired of being pissed the fuck off.

She hated it.

Hated what she had become, hated what her life had become.

Her dad had been right.

He was always right.

Nesta clenched her teeth, closed her lips, closed one nostril with her middle finger, and breathed in the line with the other.

Maybe now she would get some fucking sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #nessian #feysand #elriel #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #tacmc AITA

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

Star, March 1

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Humiliated Jennifer Lopez used for money and fame by Alex Rodriguez

Page 1: Princess Eugenie and her husband Jack Brooksbank, who is a UK ambassador for George Clooney and Rande Gerber's tequila brand, welcomed a son on February 9 at London's Portland Hospital

Page 2: Contents, Robin Thicke in front of a piano at Gold Diggers studio in L.A.

Page 3: Star Shots -- Serena Williams honored late Olympic gold medalist Florence Griffith Joyner by rocking a one-legged Nike catsuit at the first day of the Australian open, Chrissy Metz brought some vibrancy to the virtual SCAD aTVFest where she discussed This Is Us and was honored with the Vanguard Award, Olivia Culpo checked out the view before heading to the Shaq Bowl in Tampa

Page 4: Inside Britney Spears' nightmare -- a shocking new documentary exposes how Britney was used and abused by people she trusted -- Britney's unable to communicate with fans directly without permission -- fans flooded Justin Timberlake's Instagram to demand an apology for what one called profiting from trashing a woman

Page 5: Facing a lawsuit from her estranged older sister has rattled Mariah Carey -- Alison Carey alleged to a NYC court that Mariah had intentionally inflicted emotional distress by writing about her in the 2020 tell-all The Meaning of Mariah Carey and Alison is seeking $1.25 million after the singer accused her of, among other things, throwing boiling hot tea on her and trying to sell a 12-year-old Mariah to a pimp -- now Mariah has become wary of even those in her inner circle and is making longtime employees re-interview for their jobs -- Mariah's always been on the paranoid side but everyone is a suspect now and she's grilling everyone from bodyguards to chefs to stylists and household staff who have been with her for years and if anyone pushes back they are shown the door -- her great fear is that people could cross over and spill secrets to the enemy because she's been caught off guard before by those she trusted

* Catching ZZZs has become a real problem for Kelly Clarkson -- between her gig as a daytime host, trying to sell homes in Nashville and Encino, and battling her ex Brandon Blackstock over custody of their two kids, she is beyond stressed and she can't sleep and nothing works; the most shut-eye she gets is two to three hours -- it's gotten so bad she's even tried hypnotherapy but her workaholic brain outwits it -- meanwhile her legal woes including a lawsuit with her husband and ex father-in-law's talent agency are getting nastier and Brandon has told her in no uncertain terms that he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants which is a ton of money and time with the kids

* She was the most loathed mother in America and now Casey Anthony wants her say -- 10 years after she was acquitted of murdering her two-year-old daughter Caylee, Casey is making a documentary about the trial and she thinks she can clear her name -- she's not looking for sympathy but she believes she's a victim too and was unfairly convicted in the public eye -- she is planning on dropping bombshells in the doc including her take on the theory that the toddler accidentally drowned in the family pool as well as shocking secrets about her own abusive upbringing but don't expect much remorse

Page 6: Just over a year after her father Kobe Bryant and sister Gianna Bryant perished in a tragic helicopter crash, Natalia Bryant who is Kobe's oldest daughter, has signed a modeling contract with IMG Models who also represent Bella Hadid and Gigi Hadid and the just signed Inauguration standout poet Amanda Gorman

* Rumer Willis was heartbroken when her months-long relationship with Armie Hammer fizzled out in December but after harrowing reports of Armie's alleged abuse of women including asking to barbecue their ribs and carry their severed toes in his pocket, Rumer is telling friends she feels lucky -- she wanted to defend him when the cannibalism stories first came out because she thought they were outrageous and now she feels badly for all of the victims and she's really grateful she didn't get caught up in the Armie nightmare

* Star Spots the Stars -- Eva Longoria, Mandy Moore, Demi Lovato, Dan Levy, Dorinda Medley

Page 8: Star Shots -- Meg Ryan wore some wide-legged trousers and a cute cap on a nature walk in Santa Barbara, Gavin Rossdale wore pink socks while playing tennis in L.A., Ciara holding six-month-old son Win during a family getaway to Hawaii

Page 9: Delilah Belle Hamlin and Love Island's Eyal Booker removed their masks for a quick street smooch during a coffee date in L.A., Sofia Richie enjoyed some PDA with shipping heir Gil Ofer in Miami

Page 12: Kate Upton doing yoga, Tia Mowry-Hardrict and her husband Cory Hardrict shared dishwashing duty after cooking at home, Robin Roberts tasted a treat on Good Morning America in New York City

Page 13: Pregnant Brittany Cartwright brought her dog along to retrieve the mail in L.A., Victoria Justice showed off her toned tummy post-workout in L.A.

Page 14: Goldie Hawn turned quality time with granddaughter Rani into a workout toting her in a backpack, Madonna and Guy Ritchie's son Rocco Ritchie waded in during a vacation in Tulum in Mexico, Lucy Hale on a stroll with her dog Elvis in L.A.

Page 16: Chris Noth put in a day's work on The Equalizer in Paterson in New Jersey, Flavor Flav and Flo Rida at The Super Glow Super Bowl kick-off party in Tampa, Bradley Cooper kept daughter Lea close as the two ran errands in NYC

Page 17: More than a week after celebrating 18 months of sobriety Lily Allen enjoyed a snack on-the-go in London, Jessica Alba lifted her son Hayes while riding scooters with husband Cash Warren in Beverly Hills

Page 18: Normal or Not? Cody Simpson got physical with new girlfriend Marloes Stevens during a romantic getaway in St. Barts -- normal, Selling Sunset's Christine Quinn picking up a portrait of herself in L.A. -- normal, Jack Black raised Thor's hammer in a parody posted on Instagram prompting Chris Hemsworth to call it the greatest thing he's ever seen -- not normal

Page 19: The Crown's Emma Corrin looked intrigued by a leafy object she stumbled upon during a stroll in London -- not normal, Sarah Jessica Parker kicked back in heels during a break from assisting shoppers at her flagship store in NYC -- not normal

Page 20: Fashion -- stars look sweet in tiered dresses -- Maude Apatow, Logan Browning, Margot Robbie

Page 21: Julianne Moore, Camila Morrone, Saoirse Ronan

Page 24: After months of quietly dating, Aaron Rodgers and Shailene Woodley are ready to marry and they announced it in the most low-key way possible and the couple are madly in love and feel unequivocally that this is the real deal -- Aaron and Shailene were friends long before sparks flew in August last year and having to endure a long-distance romance during football season actually made their bond stronger -- Aaron and Shailene are already planning to start a family and they're at that stage when they feel ready to be parents and are keen to have a baby

Page 25: Olivia Wilde and Harry Styles have found another dynamic duo to spend their downtime with which is Florence Pugh and Zach Braff -- the foursome hit it off on the set of Don't Worry, Darling which Olivia is directing and in which Florence and Harry star -- they have the best time together and know how to forget the world outside -- as it turns out bearing witness to Florence and Zach's happy relationship despite their 20-year age difference played a part in Olivia taking a chance on dating Harry who is nine years her junior following her split from Jason Sudeikis and seeing them together inspired Olivia to go for it with Harry and she's so glad she did

* While some couples are overwhelmed being with their kids 24/7 in lockdown, Prince William and Duchess Kate have enjoyed the extended family time with Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis -- having the kids at home during the pandemic has given Kate baby fever and she loves being around them and wants to have one more and she and William are trying for another, with Kate saying she's hoping for a girl -- as for raising four young kids, the pair are up to the challenge because Kate's a pro at multitasking and William is a devoted dad and they'll split parenting duties

* Matt Damon is hoping a change of scenery will save his rocky 17-year relationship with wife Luciana Barroso as the couple and their three girls have set up house in a lavish $7000-a-night rental in Australia's tony Byron Bay while the actor films Thor: Love and Thunder -- the beachy new surroundings are just what the couple needs after hitting a rough patch and Matt is working overtime to make sure Luciana enjoys herself Down Under by arranging date nights and buying gifts for her to open every day and even when he's working he's got time set aside for just them and the gestures seem to be working and it's the shot in the arm they both needed

Page 26: Cover Story -- Jennifer Lopez humiliated and used -- shocking cheating allegations rock J.Lo's world as fiance Alex Rodriguez's mistress Madison LeCroy tells all -- while Jennifer is putting on a brave face the affair rumors are devastating to her whether she admits it or not -- after revealing she and Alex exchanged DMs Madison said she doesn't want anything bad for his family or for hers -- Alex says it was innocent and that nothing happened but Jennifer is not fully buying it -- Jennifer and Alex's relationship is personal but it's also business; together, their fortunes have doubled

Page 30: Chip and Joanna Gaines -- inside our farmhouse reno -- Chip and Jo are expanding and renovating their Waco home and it may be their toughest job yet

Page 32: Celeb Parenting Fails -- these celebrity moms and dads share their hilarious hapless moments -- Anne Hathaway, Brad Pitt

Page 33: Willie Geist, Mila Kunis, Pink

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Despite it being her first concert in over a year, Miley Cyrus was ready to rock while headlining the TikTok Tailgate Super Bowl pre-show event in Tampa -- the show treated 7500 Florida-based healthcare workers to a set that included guest appearances by Joan Jett and Billy Idol, who both collaborated on Miley's latest album

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shcwclf-archive · 3 years

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🙌

Send a “🙌” and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse.

LITTLE SHIT / GRADE 3 STUDENT

— October 30, 2012 @ 3.33am — born: Cedar Sinai Maternity, Beverly Hills, CA. — connection: Mila’s daughter from her second marriage. — triggers: death (murder), stress, postnatal depression, grief, pregnancy, surgery ( C-Section ).

Mila really wasn’t expecting to have any more children, in fact she had planned on her son being her one and only, so when she discovered she was pregnant, not long after she married Jack (and that she was already 12 weeks along, thanks to a faulty hormone rod in her arm), she wasn’t a hundred percent sure how to feel. Jack had always wanted children however, and while he often joked (was it actually a joke? she really couldn’t tell) about having a large family with 4 or 5 children, fate had other plans for them. It took Mila a little while to adjust to the idea of having another child, and everything seemed to be progressing quickly. It wasn’t long before Jack was deployed again, this time for only a few months. he was expected home just before the due date so Mila was reluctantly fine with that. reluctantly.

Mila wasn’t exactly sure when Jack would return home, but as the weeks went on, she got slightly more anxious. at 32 weeks she got an email, saying that he was fine, but their mission had been extended and he probably wouldn’t make it back in time for the due date. She dealt with it, knowing that she had support if she should need it, but she always hoped that Jack would make it back in time. At 36 weeks pregnant, Mila received word about the accident. She wasn’t told much, but that seemed to sink in was that Jack wasn’t coming back and that he’d never meet their child. It seemed all a little too much for Mila to really grasp hold of, and as such, stress and other complications saw to her daughter being delivered by emergency C-section at 38 weeks. it took a lot for Mila to even hold her daughter, @calxlucas being there to be the first one to end up holding the infant, the first to see the baby’s face. Mila couldn’t for the life of her look at her daughter and not see her late husbands features reflected in the infant. everything about her just screamed Jack, and Mila just couldn’t deal with it. without Cal there, Freya wouldn’t have been given the love she needed when she was first brought into the world, she wouldn’t have had that connection with someone, or be given the decency of a smile. In many ways, Mila hasn’t forgiven herself for this, but she also couldn’t be more grateful for cal and his involvement in Freya’s arrival.

Mila attempted to do what she needed for her daughter, but the more she forced herself into it the further away from her she wished she were. it was a week before Mila even put a name on the birth certificate, and it was only through the pestering of her mother that she did so. the name Freya wasn’t actually one that Mila had chosen, but it was the name that Jack had mentioned in his last conversation with her, a name that he said he’d really come to love, so Mila decided to give her daughter the name. There were Pavlov traditions she had to follow and without Freya earning an even longer name than she had already been given, Mila had chosen to give Freya a middle name relating to her father, choosing Jacqueline. the French name seemingly upsetting Mila’s mother, but she didn’t let that bother her. She allowed for Pavlov tradition to follow by giving Freya a second middle name, handing down the name Ksenya. If she were to follow her family’s who tradition, Freya would be Freya Jacqueline Ksenya Dragomira Pavlova- Fallon, but Mila chose otherwise, settling on Freya Jacqueline Ksenya Minkova-Fallon.

It’s safe to say that without Cal, Mila wouldn’t have ever pulled herself out of her depression as well as she did. It was rough enough to deal with the grief of losing her husband, but when evolution had made sure that his genes were represented in every single one of Freya’s features— Mila couldn’t deal. she spent her days in bed, attempting to sleep but never really being able to. she was well and truly numb. Cal moving in didn’t change that at first, but it did allow her time to be able to grieve the way she needed to. He made sure her children were fed, even when it came to reminding her that she needed to do the thing with the pump so that Freya could get a feed, he made sure her twelve year old son got to school and home safely, that he did his homework and that he wasn’t too much of a shit for his teachers. he made sure Mila ate and drank water, that she bathed, washed her hair (even when he had to do this for her) and got outside to get some sun occasionally. He took her and Freya to every single appointment, every single follow up and every session she had to attend and through all of that, he stayed. Looking back at it now, Mila realises that he did all of this not out of dedication to the family, but because he loves her. she didn’t see it then, but maybe she had too much else to focus on to notice.

Mila found herself slowly getting closer to Freya, watching Cal fall asleep with her on his chest and laying down beside them, just to learn to close that distance between them and then eventually letting her fall asleep on her own chest (obviously making sure Cal was there at first, just in case). Eventually Mila got to know her daughter through Cal, and she’s sworn ever since that she’d never let herself fall so low again. Cal was eventually able to move out, mila functioning on her own again, able to handle a busy life of a single mother of two. the next two years would prove very difficult with the murder of grandfather six months after her birth, Freya wasn’t out of the woods yet and while Mila tried her hardest to be present and there for both her children— losing a parent makes that very difficult. Cal, perhaps without knowing it, stepping into the father role again for both her children, but this time never really stepped out of it.

Freya became close with her aunt @nadyaxpavlova (even though her mother and aunt’s relationship was strained), her uncle @alexxpavlov and his fiancé Sophie. the infant attached to Sophie with ease, which Mila appreciated. Sophie was a kind woman that Mila was looking forward to having as part of the Pavlov family, especially seeing how she was with her children. The attempted hit on her brothers life resulted in the end of Sophie’s own, and once again, the family was thrown into grief. it was around this time that Cal’s presence maybe lessened slightly. Mila expected this, Alex needed his best friend and right hand, and there was more to deal with in the family.

Freya grew never lacking in father figures. While she loves her uncle, the bond that her and Cal developed continued to grow. Every holiday, every father’s day, any excuse to make a craft project at day care or school, Freya demanded to make something for Cal. Paintings, key chains, mug upon mug— you name it, Freya has probably made and/or decorated it for Cal, all with DAD printed on each. She also likes to make her brother @timoteixmacgregor anything music related and has been taking piano lessons for a year or so, so that she can learn to play like him. They had always had a special bond, even with the age gap, and as Freya grew, Mila was thankful for that gap. Timo was able to help Mila with Freya more than she ever realised. He loves his sister, and she loves him.

The family’s influence on Freya’s development didn’t go unnoticed; she’s sarcastic and sassy and enjoys chaos a little too much for her mothers liking. Traits that Cal, Alex and Timo all seem to have. Freya is a very outspoken, multilingual child who is determined, headstrong and independent. Bossy? Sure! But call her that and she’ll turn around and quote Beyoncé’s “I’m not bossy, I’m the boss” quote to you before walking away. She has strong relationships with the family from her father’s side, spending some weekends and holidays with them, which Mila likes because she gets to be with her cousins and still gets to know her fathers family.

Mila does struggle some times, Freya is coming into that age where she’s beginning to understand things in greater detail and ask more questions than she did before. She’s pieced together the relationship between Mila and Cal, and is very interested in finding out exactly when her baby sister is coming, to which Mila replies with NEVER! Freya’s cousin recently told her that sex is how babies are made, and since she asked Cal if he was “sexing” Mila and he was honest with his reply, she naturally connected the dots.... the semantics of why this isn’t possible aren’t really sinking in yet, but Mila is hoping that it will some time soon. Mila and Cal are always honest with Freya, and Mila as a parent has never dumbed anything down because of her children’s ages. If they asked questions, Mila would give honest answers, and as such, Freya knows a lot about the world and is very opinionated on topics she feels well educated on.

#Freya — ( 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 )#anwered #death tw #murder tw #stress tw #pregnancy tw #birth tw #postnatal depression tw #grief tw #c-section tw #surgery tw #cal ( 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚 )#alex ( 𝐼 𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑒 )#timo ( 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 )#— ( conv. ) ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ·s ᴏɴʟʏ ᴜs ʟᴇғᴛ ɴᴏᴡ #looooong post

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doof-doofblog · 3 years

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"I Think That's It!"

Thursday 14th January 2021

Hello again everyone! Hope your week is going well so far, I'm really looking forward to reviewing today's episode! I feel there's a lot of emotion and drama going on in the soap right now, still so many secrets and lies to be exposed! I do believe that a new EastEnders trailer has gone out, I have say it looks absolutely brilliant, very exciting with confrontations between Frankie and Mick and then Ash and Suki!! Ooooo it's all going to kick off!! I'm really looking forward to seeing what's due to happen within the next couple of episodes! But back to this episode, I won't waste anymore of your time and jump straight into it!

Okay, so there's a few things I want to talk about. The first thing I'll mention first is Iqra! I do get the feeling that her relationship with Ash is kind of on the rocks, they seem to be disagreeing on things a lot. Plus Ash seems to have a big interest in Peter all of a sudden! During the scene where Iqra and Ash are sat alone in the Cafe, Peter enters and no surprise, Suki follows after a while. However as Iqra and Ash make themselves scares after Suki makes a comment on them staying up too late the night before, did anyone notice that she implied that she and Peter had slept together?! Peter orders himself a drink, to which to interrupts and offers to pay for it, telling him to enjoy his drink - to which she made a disgusting comment that she "Enjoyed" her time with him the previous night! Firstly - Ewwwww! - I don't know what your opinion is on Peter and Suki, but personally, I really don't like it! But I do have a feeling that Iqra is going to have another love interest soon! - The new girl at the Prince Albert - Mila! If she is going to become a regular character and we're going to see more of her, I think it would be nice to give her a storyline. We've already seen her beat Kim to win a job at the Albert, also seen her chatting up Frankie, and now she's been introduced to Iqra. What's not to say that Iqra and Mila begin get grow a close bond and eventually fall for one another? It would be nice to see Iqra in a happy relationship, as I feel right now, she's not happy with Ash. What do you guys think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this possible theory?!

The second thing I want to talk about is the Carter's. Shirley is determined to find her little sister, much to Gray's frustration and panic. Before Mick arrives to accompany her to the police station regarding her attack on Katy, Shirley makes a call, which is later to be revealed as one of Tina's friends, as she desperately tries to search for her sister. As she does so, Gray is looking even more worried, for his own sake. He tries to convince her not to make any calls to Tina as it will makes things look bad on Tina as well as Shirley herself! Later when Shirley and Mick arrive back from the police station, they both inform Linda that Katy isn't going to press charges on Shirley for her attack. (Deep down I'm thinking it's because she doesn't want her own crimes being revealed!) But it's during this moment, when Mick and Linda begin to fret that Tina still hasn't been in touch with any of them, Shirley reveals to them that she actually received a text from Tina, informing them that she actually had attacked Ian. Instantly, things don't make sense to the Carter family, they believe that what the message is saying isn't true. But Mick makes the valid point that even if they don't believe it, they have no proof to show that she actually is innocent. It's then that Linda takes a huge gamble and requests to speak to Max. Since Linda ended their fling, Max has been down in the dumps and moping ever since. So when he gets a message from Linda asking that they talk, he goes round to her apartment when no one else is around. She informs Max that she's sorry for the way she treated him, but regardless of sticking by her husband, she does still care for him and treasures his friendship. But she then turns the subject onto more important matters and informs him that she's worried about Tina, even though that Tina has sent them a message almost admitting to attacking Ian, the only way to prove that it wasn't her was to give the police the weapon. Now we all know that the weapon used to attack Ian was the blue Lucy Beale Award, which Max ended up stealing and burying in an attempt to save Linda. The big thing here is, is that Linda is basically asking him to give up the weapon to put Tina out of the frame, but I don't think she realises that it could make Max look guilty of attacking Ian instead, and Max makes a very valid point here, even though he cares deeply for Linda, he refuses to go back to prison for anyone! Why should he also help her family after what's happened between him and Linda? I get Linda is just trying to help her family, but honestly - I think she needs to find another way, approaching Max is the wrong way to go about it.

Thirdly, let's talk about Martin and Ruby, shall we?! When we first see them, Martin appears to have gotten off the phone to, I'm assuming, Sonia or Bex, and he happily informs his wife that he's going to be going away to see his daughter. Ruby has a face like thunder, she is clearly unhappy and as soon as Martin tells her his plans, she has the audacity lie once again to him to reminding him that she's pregnant. I hate to say it but I loved the way Martin responded with "I didn't think I'd have to ask your permission to see my daughter!". Ruby states that since she's told her husband about her pregnancy, he hasn't shown her the slightest bit of interest, however Martin puts on a front saying that he's happy that she's carrying his child, but as he leaves the room, we can see that he still doesn't feel right about it. However, later on Martin bumps into Sharon with little Albie in the park. As they begin talking, Martin reveals to her that Ruby is pregnant, even though it wasn't planned. As she congratulates him, he questions how show manages to cope, knowing that her son Albie was born on the same day she lost her other son, and also happens to mention that he never thought he'd see the day when she and Ian would be married. It's at this point when Sharon has to put on a front and basically lies to Martin, informing that even though it wasn't the future or family that she had planned, somehow it works for her. Her words must play on Martin's mind though, as later, returning to Ruby, she's alone in the house and reaches for a bottle of wine from the shelf, only to be interrupted by the front door opening, she quickly puts it back. Martin enters and comes with a peace offering, he reveals he has bought some baby items such as a baby grow, little boots and a teddy and informs his wife that she'll make an incredible Mum. Ruby seems completely overwhelmed by his surprise baby gifts, but the realisation sinks in when she realises she has to pregnant fast, before Martin becomes suspicious! What on Earth will she do? Could she convince Martin to sleep with her? Or would she have to take extreme measures and get pregnant by somebody else?!

The next thing I want to talk about is Sheree and Patrick. Trying to avoid the situation which is happening with her husband, Sheree is keeping herself busy at the salon. Cleaning things making everything look absolutely spotless, regardless of the fact that her first client isn't due for a long while. Suddenly Stacey and Jean enter, announcing that it's Jean's birthday and she's eager to get rid of the dark eyebrows that Mo has applied for her. Sheree takes it upon herself to help Jean out and stating that she has all the time in the world to help her. During Jean's time in the salon, Kim steps in and confronts Sheree about not visiting Patrick in the hospital after his stroke, she states that if she doesn't step up she'll be disowned by family. Jean witnesses this confrontation and sees the devastating look in Sheree's eyes, she takes it upon herself to console the poor woman and informs her that families can be hard to talk to if they don't understand the upset and hurt you're feeling. It's then that Jean begins to tell Sheree all about Daniel and his aspect of life, regardless of knowing he was dying from cancer, he lived every day to the full and didn't let it get him down, he was strong and was right up until the very end. I believe it's these words which really hit home for Sheree, after Jean's wise words, she rushes to the hospital to be at her husbands bedside. Meanwhile poor Patrick has been asking Isaac for his wife, even questioning why he's there when she should be at school - however what Isaac says really moves me, "I have to be here for my Dad!" - Is this the first time he ever called Patrick "Dad"? Even so, it was so moving, the look in both of their eyes was so warm. Eventually Sheree arrives at the hospital, Patrick is happy to see her but also informs her that he doesn't want her to be his carer, as that was not what she signed up for when they got married - however, Sheree informs her husband that she won't be going anywhere, she's going to remain at his side during this knock back in his health, but informs him that he will be taking all the medication he needs and following the doctors instructions.

Now, I've mentioned her already but I need to talk about Jean, we need to talk about Jean. I've said it before and I've said it again, what an absolutely inspirational woman! Regardless of coming to terms with her own personal situation, she's still wanting to help out everyone around her, previously it was Dotty and Iqra, today it was Sheree. I have to be honest, I absolutely LOVED the fact that she talked about Daniel again, even though he was such a small part of the soap, his role was very very important and he plays such a huge part in Jean's life, we need to make sure he's not forgotten, and Jean continuing to talk about him is just perfect, even if it is quite sad. After getting her eyebrows fixed and getting dressed up in another gorgeous dress (She's been wearing some stunning dresses recently!) she begins to record a video of herself. At first, I know it sounds silly, but I genuinely thought she was doing a video for Daniel, even though he wouldn't be able to see it, I just thought it would've been a way for her to still kind of talk to him, if you get what I mean? But as she continued the video and talking to the camera, I think it became clear that the video she was recording is actually intended for Stacey and the rest of the family. In the video, she announces that devastatingly that she feels in herself that the cancer has returned, even though she hasn't had it confirmed, she can feel it. Not only does she announce this but she also states that she's taken the drastic decision not to have treatment this time around, she wants to live the rest of her life to the full and be just like Daniel. She doesn't want the family to worry and to accept her decision. I did find this very emotional to watch, I mentioned this in my previous post but I can't applaud Gillian Wright enough for her performance as Jean, she is absolutely incredible actress. The only thing that plays on my mind though however is that, I would be incredibly devastated if they were to kill her off. Jean has been such a breath of fresh air in EastEnders, even during her absolute lowest moments, everyone loves her and wants her to fight through the toughest times. I truly believe that the Slater family will be lost without her, the whole Square would be lost without Jean - Oh I love her so much!

I know there are plenty of storylines happening at the moment, and with the recent trailer which has been released, I can't wait to see it all unfold. But Jean's storyline is the one that really going to keep me guessing the most I think, I hope to God that her cancer hasn't returned, or maybe it's something completely different and not cancer - (I don't know?) - But either way, I just hope Jean will be okay and EastEnders don't kill her off! What do you guys think? How do you feel about Jean's current story? Are there any storylines that are keeping you gripped at this moment in time, how do you feel about them all and what are your thoughts and theories?! I'd love to hear what you have to say, please feel free to leave me a message or a comment, I'll always respond! Thanks again folks! Enjoy the rest of your weekend and I'll be back very soon! Love you all xXx

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cfmoxie · 4 years

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&&. rumor has it ( mila syan ) has stepped into rosewood. ( she ) is a ( 33 ) year old ( sub ) currently residing at the manor as ( a sub for hire ). it’s been said that ( she ) resembles ( elodie yung ) and is into ( tpe & orgasm control ) but not ( bathroom play & infantilism ). ( she ) has been said to be ( caring & attentive ) but also quite ( impulsive & unstable ). let’s hope the manor doesn’t devour them whole.

tw: death, murder, brainwashing.

FULL NAME: Mila Syan

GENDER: Cis female

PRONOUNS: She/Her

SEXUALITY: Bisexual and Homoromantic.

HEIGHT: 5′6

NATIONALITY: Cambodian/British

BIRTHMARK: A rose gold feather at the nape of her neck. See here for visual ref.

Biography

Mila’s family didn’t particularly have much in terms of prospects growing up. Her father had moved to England from Cambodia a few years prior to her birth, met what he so eloquently would claim to anyone who asked as the love of his life, and the pair haven’t looked back since.

She loved her family dearly, but a cramped council flat certainly wasn’t the most adequate of places to raise four children despite their strong bonds.

As the eldest child, there was always a lot of pressure placed on Mila to excel in everything she did. It was something she knew full well was never meant from a place of malicious intent, and so instead of growing to resent it, she worked hard to proved their confidence in her was well founded.

She developed a love of art, music and languages, was in all the top classes throughout her school years...The A stars littering her GCSE results paper like little beacons of that better life seeming further and further within reach with every passing year.

That was, until tragedy stuck the family. Her youngest brother Arun killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, stumbling on something he shouldn’t.

The authorities were useless in their investigation, and as her grades began to slip, it also gave rise to a far darker side of the sweet young girl everyone knew.

Eventually, her feelings of uselessness and contempt manifested physically. Picking fights with anyone and everyone just to at least feel some pain she had a modicum of control over.

When the trail for her brother’s murders ran cold, she was distraught. While her parents sat and wallowed in their grief, she steeled herself to do something about it.

She even ran head first into the arms of her estranged uncle, a man who had been disowned from the family for his ties to the seedy underbelly of London city. While he agreed to look into it for her, one thing became very clear...If she wanted those men dead, she was going to have to do it herself.

The hitmen in her uncle’s circles were certainly ones she couldn’t afford, but she learnt the value of stealth early on - often sneaking around in an attempt to overhear any pearls of wisdom she could gleam from these people so adept at what they did.

She got caught eventually, such was the way with no means of formal training, but instead of making her regret it the man seem to appreciate her determination, and agreed to teach her some basics until her uncle found the names she needed.

It was hardly the life she had envisioned for herself at sixteen, but once she’d had a taste of it, she doubted she’d ever be able to reimmerse fully into civilised society.

It was some months before the names of those responsible for her brother’s death were uncovered. Part of some gang running a drug smuggling ring out of Camden.

After growing close, her unofficial mentor by this point had offered to take care of the problem for her...And in hindsight, perhaps she should have taken it. That one contract and it was done, but Mila simply could not let it go, and if they were going to die by anyone’s hands, it would be her own.

She trailed rigorously for years until she felt she was ready. They weren’t her first kill, or her last, but they would always be her most memorable. Even now, when so many aspects of that part of her life are hazy, their faces remain always.

The problem was that once she’d gotten a taste for such things, there was no going back. She had begun to make a name for herself, and a submissive with such a skill set was a highly coveted prize. Few expected the meek and mild subservients of the human race to possess such viciousness, and she worked under many doms over the years to hone her craft.

The problems came later, when she began to outgrow the confides her rose gold birthmark placed on her.

No one took her seriously as a sub, and so eventually, she decided to try her hand as a dominant.

With the shackles broken she quickly grew in wealth and stature, perhaps the one good thing she has done in her life coming when she had made enough to send a majority of it back to her parents and ensure both themselves and her siblings would be set for life.

She felt as though she was on top of the world, pulled into a false sense of security by the semipermanent silvery blue where rose gold should be....But like all good things in life, it wasn't to last.

It was a previous boss scorned by the reach she had surpassed him that eventually connected her to the submissive in his employ years prior. Something that quickly landed her on the reconditioning list, to be reminded of her place by some of the best sub breakers and dom trainers in the world, those that resided in an estate known as Rosewood manor.

Mila underwent the training for five years in total before something eventually snapped, and there was no end to the plethora of doms that assisted in her indoctrination -- both before and after that particular revelation of hers.

The first few months after her reconditioning were perhaps the most dangerous. She was fine when there was a dom around, but given more freedom she began to slip deeper and deeper into old habits.

Over the past year she’s been conditioned to view such feelings as a side effect detrimental to her own mental health, and it’s something that she will now actively go out of her way to correct. Often seeking a sub breaker or any other dom with a sadistic streak to help her reclaim her submission once more.

Personality:

Mila is a very caring and empathetic individual for the most part. Even before everything, she had a passion for music, art and literature that simply couldn’t be taught, and it’s something that hasn’t left her to this day. She speaks five languages, is well versed in close quarters combat styles, and predominantly enjoys her life as a submissive for hire. When there’s a dom in her presence, Mila can be the picture of obedience. A faint bratty undertone sometimes carried purely to keep things interesting, or when she wants a night to take a slightly darker turn. The problems occur when she’s left to her own devises for too long, when her mind wanders to places she’d rather not go, or finds herself straying to the cells with it’s echoes of memories written all over the walls she knows full well to ignore. Usually, time with even the most marginally sadistic of doms will clear up such thoughts she has come to treat as one would a physical ailment, and so the notion of having a long term mistress is one she secretly sort of longs for.

Wanted Connections:

Doms that were part of her training in any capacity: TBA. Just all. the. doms! Sub breakers, Dom trainers, or even those just willing to lend a hand to that kind of thing. These would likely be the ones she seeks out if she ever feels herself slipping. So long as your chara’s been here for like 6 months+, come at me!

Art/Literature/Music buds: TBA. Despite her penchants for the arts, she’s been taught that this isn’t something most doms would want to hear about, that it’s boring...She’s almost started to believe it, and will try to actively keep it to herself in most cases. This could be doms or subs that actually share the affiliation.

Reoccurring doms: TBA. As a sub for hire mostly left to her own devises for close to a year now, Mila is no stranger to new and old little trysts alike. These are people that would likely ask for her time either whenever they visit, or relatively often encounters if they live here...whether she requires payment or not from these particular people remains to be seen.

Subs that make her question her new mindset: TBA. A dangerous connection for her, bonus points if it’s current disobedient subs bc I clearly just like to inflict suffering xD

Anything else you can think of! I’m here for all of it.

#rhqintro #death tw #murder tw #brainwashing tw #//I told myself I wouldn't bring her in until after the event #I lied lol #Feel free to come at me for plots!#I'll probably come at most of you too xD

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valnune · 4 years

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An Ordinary Party (Asmo + Wine Mom)

Based on the chat of the same name, you’re invited to a party after school that has perfectly normal things. I had already written this and finished yesterday but it’s perfect for the start of Asmo Appreciation Week that @milas-imaginarium posted. Since it’s his birthday week, I will have to finish that Asmo Angel outfit I’ve been sitting on. Look forward to it! For those who haven’t gotten the chat yet, it’s called “Ordinary Party” and is just Asmo, and for some reason the demon’s name you’re gonna have a house party at is called Lucifugus. Which is the taxonomy name of a small brown bat. Also. Warning. Prepare for a Feels Trip. Word Count: 6347 ---------------------- Asmo had said that a little party was being thrown at Lucifugus’s house after class today. The text came just before lunch and after inquiring what sort of party it was, it was described as “nothing special.” Eating, drinking Demonus, and gossiping. However, as he said he’d pick Althea up after class, he mentioned the prospect of finding a new partner at the end of it. Complete with a heart emoji at the end. Since coming to the Devildom, Althea had been dragged about on various trips and escapades by the demon brothers. Normally she was the unwilling participant in many of these because they wouldn’t leave her alone and the effort to get them to stop was not worth the trouble but sometimes it was not the worst thing. Initially, she found it enjoyable because being invited out allowed her to get familiar with the place, this is what the upper echelons of demon society found most valuable, right? So it must be important. Yet. More and more she just realized it was demonic versions of mundane things. Hell was just another Earth, just with a different coat of paint.

Today would be no different than the day before and the next day after. After all, this wasn’t the first time Asmodeus sprung plans on short term notice, and it wasn’t even the first time that he’d invited her out to a party. Normally, if he was to take her out, it would be to Majolish or other stores he liked, seeing as she was someone who knew a fair bit about fashion and prided herself on her presentation. It was one of the things she seemed to bond over well with him, and decently enjoyed. So, when Asmo met up with Althea at the end of classes, the standard thoughts were going through her mind. They were going to someone’s house, drink, gossip, and he’d probably drag her to The Fall after. While she always allocated time to study, such things could be done past midnight. It wasn’t as if she lived off of four hours of sleep every night anyway.

“Ooh, aren’t you so excited? I know I am, I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend their time with me. Ahahah.” Linking his arm around her own, Asmo gave his signature head inside laughter, trying to be cute as he beamed a smile up to Althea. Normally, she’d be stoic and unamused but, with Asmo, she tended to lighten up a bit, after all, she did enjoy indulging herself on occasion.

“Yes, yes. Once more, it is of the utmost privilege to bask in your glory, Asmodeus. Your radiant smile, your glowing eyes, why, who needs the Sun when you shine more brilliantly?” Swaying her hips from side to side, the click of her heels upon the stone floor of the Academy was muffled by the sounds of the various demons getting ready to leave. The idea that demons still had to go to school despite being supernatural creatures was still confusing. Did that man there was school in Heaven as well? While she did enjoy learning, it made her question the economy of the Devildom if the education system took so long.

“More! More! Shower me with more praise or even better, why don’t you prove it with a kiss. You would if you really felt that way about me.” Releasing her arm and stepping in front of her, Asmo curled a finger in his hair and pulled it, letting the curl bounce as he struck a pose.

“Flowers wither and die, dry in the heat of the sun, or shrivel from the cold, their petals yellow, their leaves wilt, but your lips shall stay as an eternal Spring, blossoming forever in a garden that envies the scent of your nectar.” Althea leaned in, cupping a hand under his chin ever so slightly, but just smiled, releasing the expectant demon and sauntered off without him.

“Come along then, we need to pick up a gift for the host. It’s terribly rude to arrive at a house party empty handed.” A hand waved back and forth as she waited for Asmo to catch up.

“Ugh! You can’t just say something like that and not follow through! You always do this!”

Leaving the academy grounds and visiting the market, Althea and Asmo picked up a bottle of Demonus, even though she clearly wanted to get a bottle of wine, human world commodities were rather hard to come by. It was unfortunately out of her price range. She was still looking for a way to convert her human world funds into Grimm, though she heard the exchange rate was quite lucrative as human money itself as a commodity for its novelty. Still, despite her Devilgram name being: Wine Mom, she was without wine for another week. Mammon said he made headway in that direction but was still waiting to hear back from a few people.Something would need to be done to incentivise him, otherwise she’d be waiting for a hundred years. If she was lucky.

Lucifugus was one of Asmodeus’ many, many, many acquaintances and for this house party there were about eight others there. It seemed not everyone was as courteous to bring a gift and just showed up, and it seemed that Lucifugus was expecting Asmo to do the same. He was pleasantly surprised. As his name suggested, he did have some bat-like features, and was rather short compared to other demons she had met.Well. She actually took the time to find out that Lucifugus was Latin for a kind of brown bat. She learned that most demons had references to Latin or Greek words, if they weren’t directly from the Bible. This was no different. It seemed that many demons preferred to use their human forms outside of school as well, however most had loosened up their uniforms a bit to relax. Yet, as the two just greeted the host, handing off the gift, a voice caught her attention as a pair appeared from the side.

“So, this is the exchange student, hmm? Can’t say I’ve seen them up close before. One of your brothers is usually lurking about.”

“Oooh. Look how tough they’re trying to be. Just because they have a few pacts.You’re sure we can’t take a few bites, Asmo~baby?”

These two looked slightly familiar, as if she had seen them at the school but never had interacted with them. Both of them carried an androgynous look, but the sharpness in their eyes, on their teeth, and their nails… they were succubi and incubi, though which was which was hard to tell. The first had slick back hair and shaved sides making it look like waves on sand while the one who addressed Asmo as baby had an angled dramatic bob cut.They hung off each other and leered in her direction. The way they moved, the shifting of their shoulders, their stride, their gait, it was clear they were a bit more primal, perhaps true demons that never fell. Regardless, they reminded her of eels.

“Oh hey lovelies, I’m glad you could make it! Oooh. Ooh. I want to introduce you guys to each other. These two are Amaurós, and Ophidia, only like, two of the biggest gossips in the Devildom, as well as two of the biggest sluts. Ahaha.”

Asmo slid over to the pair and circled around them like the queen he was, standing behind them now as if to present her to the pack. This seemed like a sort of initiation into a clique, being evaluated by those who thought themselves above the rest. It was something she was familiar with. Oh, there most certainly were cliques in a Catholic school, perhaps not quite the same as public school, but it was mostly the social status and hierarchy that formed between wealth groups. That’s what this feeling was. She was back to being judged by others. Well. She still remembered the steps to this dance.

“You’re one to talk, Asmo. I’ll have you know that I am the classiest of demons, thank you very much.” Flicking their eyelashes at Asmodeus, the one on the left, Amaurós, feigned offense.

“Oh please. I am a connoisseur of assets, not a slut. Amaurós, Ophidia, this human here is Althea, she’s basically like… Hm. Oh. You’ll see what I mean. I’m sure you’ll get along great!”

Parading himself about, Asmodeus made sure to wave to the others who were invited, making sure he was seen. That left her in front of these two eels that now ungulated forward, giving a circle about her. Althea remained still, arms crossed over herself as she raised a brow at what they were doing. Not reacting even when she felt a nail glide over the arm of her blouse, Althea had opted to keep her jacket with her as opposed to hanging it up. Her coat was long and under it was a pencil skirt that the spruce green shirt was tucked into, but she kept the gold tie clasped and firm with the buttons still tight around her neck.

“Aren’t you going to speak? This IS a party after all, or are you just going to stand there all night and be a coat rack?”

“Ugh. Come on then, don’t be such a buzzkill. Do something human-! Unless you want us to make the first move, hmm?”

The two hissed as they returned to each other's side, Ophidia, draping their arms over Amaurós’ shoulders and making that final jab at her, while Amaurós themselves seemed to stand there and sneer a bit. All the while, Althea saw that Asmodeus was watching the three from the corner of his eyes. Catching the glint in his gaze, she saw that he was expecting a bit of a show. Very well. Her arms unhooked from themselves slowly. Placing a hand upon her hip, Althea cocked them to the side, coat hanging over the arm while her hand flipped through her hair.

“Well, excuse me for reserving the right to speak. I thought I’d save you the embarrassment, after all, it appears you two share the same brain as you can’t think or act independently.” With a scoff, Althea tilted her chin up high, eyes glaring down at the two. Let the game begin.

“Ooh. Tough talk from the thirty year old virgin. So what if you’re book smart if you don’t know how to get any. That’s where true power lies. You can control someone from between their thighs.” It was Ophidia who was on the attack once more, the one who called Asmo, Asmo~baby with that cutesy voice.

“You’ve had crows-feet for over a thousand years, it’s a wonder you can get any at all. But I suppose if you put enough makeup on, you can still look half as decent as I do.” Althea turned her head off to the side and huffed a bit in response. Like a dragon she moved, purposely, strong angles, don’t give them an inch. Don’t back down.

“As if! I am only seven hundred, thank you very much and I-”

“Hmph. Well you clearly fooled me, but then again. You seem to play the part of a fool quite well. Just how many centuries of practice have you with that?” Althea’s sharp tongue struck again but cut short by the other demon, Amaurós.

“Haha! Well, done human. You’ve got a bit of a mouth on you. I wonder what else it can do.” They didn’t seem to be nearly as uptight as Ophidia who was pouting and clinging onto the other, but it seemed to be an act as they were back to smiling again, or grinning. Sneering. It was hard to tell with sex demons.

“Oh, I know! Isn’t she just so fun to play with?” Asmo had returned holding a glass filled with a rich burgundy shade. Hooking an arm around Althea’s, he pressed his head to her shoulder and smiled back.

“Come on, the real fun’s about to start. Lucifugus found some human games and we wanna try them out. You’ll give us the real, authentic treatment, won’t you Althea?” Batting his long eyelashes up at her, Althea glanced down and chuckled ever so slightly.

“How could I say no to you?” Her voice lush and low in return, a finger extending out to brush the hair from his face.

“You say no plenty, unless that’s an invitation-”

“Just lead on, Asmo.” Cutting him off, Althea, however did the leading. She had watched where he came from anyway, and had Asmodeus point out where to turn. This particular dorm was not nearly as robust as the House of Lamentation, but it still housed a few individuals so it was sizable enough. The basement was spacious and seemed that everyone else, aside the two she was speaking with, were downstairs.

Other than the host, there were four others. That meant there were nine total. It was a cozy amount of people, something she could handle. There was a table with various drinks on it, bottles of demonus and still, nothing she could get the slightest bit intoxicated off of. This was fine. She didn’t drink to feel effect anyway, well. Not mostly. As for food things as Asmo mentioned there would be, along with cupcakes and other dainty sweets, there were “party” foods, which consisted of things like scorpion and giant centipede skewers, cream puffs which- looked normal but the cream was made from pigeon milk. It seemed that Hell was abundant with strange foods. One thing she would not miss once left.

“So, I heard about this game called Truth or Dare, you’ve heard of it right?” Lucifugus looked at her expectantly as he took a seat on the sofa. Settling down with a drink, everyone took their respective seats. Althea picked a solitary arm chair so she could see everyone and, of course, Asmo sat with the pair he introduced her to. It was clear what his intentions with them were with the way they were snickering and giggling to each other was.

“That’s right. Typically, you ask someone the question, truth or dare. That person then responds with which one they’d rather do or say. If you pick dare, you perform an action, and truth is obviously answer the question truthfully. If you don’t want to do it, you typically have to do a punishment or take a shot of something. Alcohol. Hot sauce, until they will say or do something. Depends on house rules.” Althea kept her eyes focused on the host as she spoke, out of politeness.

“Oooh! That sounds like great fun! There are SO many things I can finally get you to do and say, Althea!” Asmo was giddy like a schoolgirl, his expression changing from sweet to sinister in a quick flash. This was going to be a long night…

However. The night wasn’t terribly bad. Several of the demons had to answer what their biggest regrets were, or had to make out with each other- dares Asmo specifically asked, or had to send text messages to people they hated. At least three people were guaranteed detention the day after. Asmo had the audacity to ask her what would get her on her knees, clearly referring to sexual actions, however she avoided the question saying she only gets on her knees when praying at Mass or confessing sins. A few more rules were added as people weren’t drinking enough, including if you didn’t do the dare within a minute, you had to take a shot, or if you avoided the truthful statement, another shot. If the others guessed what the truth was to your question but were wrong? Shot. That one ended up getting a few people drunk. After Althea refused to kiss someone, he dared another demon to kiss her, which resulted in her slapping them across the face until they gave up.

Among the things that people did, sitting in each others laps, drinking disgusting things, taking pictures and texting them to others, a few times people had to leave and return with others because, of course Asmodeus would dare someone to do something sexual, Althea made certain to avoid those kinds of dares, or at least only pick truth when Asmodeus asked her the dreaded. Truth or Dare.

“Truth.” Althea stared towards Asmo, the time already around midnight.

“What do you have against kissing? You act like it’s such a big deal. I bet you’d like it if you just gave in a little bit. I mean. I’ve never seen someone with a body like yours so uptight. It’s SUCH a waste.” He was starting to slur his words a bit, but he passed it off with a fake cute voice, and insisted on drinking more of course.

“Oh-! It’s because she’s a prude! I mean, just look at her, buttoned up and formal. All work and no play. But you don’t need her to have a bit of fun, Asmo~baby.” Ophidia, arm draped over Asmo’s shoulder just to get his attention, yet he didn’t look at them for more than a glance.

“No, no. I mean, yes but- I think it’s because she had a bad breakup before. Someone broke her heart and now she can’t love agaaaain. So cliche.” Amaurós was less drunk than Ophidia but still clearly intoxicated.

“Wrong on both fronts. Aside from the fact that the exchange of bodily fluids is disgusting? To me, kissing is a level of intimacy that I reserve for the eventual person I will select for courtship. It holds something of a sacredness to me.” Althea stared at her glass and then glanced to the incubi and succubi pair who just rolled their eyes and finished off their shots before standing up.

“Ugh. So it’s because you’re a church girl again? You’re in the Devildom. You should lighten up a little bit. Why are you so opposed to fun?” Asmo took a shot as well, as it was clearly not the answer he thought either.

“Truth or dare, Asmodeus.” Althea followed it up towards him, seeing as she, one, didn’t care about getting answers from others, and two, they were in the process of leaving.

“Hmmm. Truth!” Asmo leaned forward a bit, curious to see what she’d ask.

“What was the Celestial Realm like?” Her eyes stared towards Asmo now, narrowing slightly. The unfortunateness that she was sober around a bunch of drunk demons was now starting to turn advantageous, they should have their tongues loosened to talk about what they normally wouldn’t should be available now. Or at least that’s what she hoped.

“...”

“Next question.” Asmo took a shot, a bit of an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Fine. Exactly how long ago was the Celestial War?”

“You really aren’t supposed to ask those sorts of questions, you know that.” He fingered the shot glass a bit, trading his nail along the lip before taking a second shot.

“In detail, what is your relation with Solomon?” Althea would ask as many questions as needed until she got the answers she wanted. She was waiting for this moment when he was drunk enough. The host, Lucifugus, was cleaning up but looked between the two and saw the tension grow.

“Cooomee ooooon. You know I can’t… Ugh. Just keep asking questions until there’s something I can answer. You’re as bad as Solomon, you know that, right? Fine, fine. Keep the questions coming.”

So, Althea proceeded to ask a list of questions that were declined. They included questions about the bible, about Heaven, the afterlife, the origin of the universe, God, things that either he didn’t know, or that he couldn’t answer. About fifteen questions in, there was a final question he did answer. Or maybe he was just too drunk to care.

“What did you look like as an angel?” Althea was just about ready to ease down but it seemed that with this question, and the way he let out an exasperated sigh, he might actually respond.

“FINALLY, a question about me! Well. I was beautiful! There was no more beautiful angel, and EVERYONE loved me. Jewel of the Celestial Realm- no one- not even Lucifer- well. Okay maybe Lucifer but- No one else was more beautiful than me! I was so stunning that it was almost a crime. Well. Hehe. I guess it did become a sin.” Strutting about the room, Asmo was swishing his drink around and then nearly tripped over an end table. As he held balance, Asmo straightened up and held his hands out like he was perfectly balanced the whole time.

“Simeon did say something similar… But, it seems like it’s time to go. Come on, you can’t walk straight. Let’s get you home.” Althea went to go wrap an arm over Asmo’s shoulder, pulling his drink away from him except Asmo stumbled back and waved a hand.

“Wait, what did Simeon say about me? Ugh, look at those shoulders, I just want him to wrap those arms of his around me, and those eyes, his smile, beautiful- I mean. Not that I’m jealous or anything.” His cheeks started to flush, but that might have been from drinking too much. A few more things were mumbled under his lips, comments on his appearance and how above everything he seemed.

Again, Althea stepped forward to take the drink away from him, using the length of her arms against him, handing it towards the host who was cleaning everything up. It was certainly past midnight now. Still, she didn’t answer his question. After all, Simeon didn’t say much on it, actually told her to ask the demons themselves as he didn’t feel right speaking about the topic while in Hell. He also made her promise to not ask Luke about it too much either. Disappointing but, she’d keep the promise.

“Althea-! One more question, the game isn’t over until I say it’s over! Truth or Dare! But- but- you have to answer Truth. Got it? Then I’ll leave.” His words still slurred, it seemed that all those shots were catching up to him now. While he didn’t have a drink anymore, he was playing keep-away, so, to indulge him, she nodded her head slightly.

“If I must. However, come over here. I’ll answer Truth as we leave.” Althea hadn’t ever declined to answer a question truthfully, and she wasn’t going to avoid answering it this time. Right now, the only thing she had was a headache from the loudness of everyone, a glass of wine could really be needed right about now.

“What do you REALLY think about me? I know you said you’re not interested in any of my brothers but- come on. You have to love me. I don’t believe you when you say you’re not interested.” Asmo was struggling to put his jacket back on, not able to find where the arm hole was. A slight sigh slipped from her lips, taking a step forward to help him do it up.

What she thought of him? Well. To say she wasn’t interested was not true. However, not the way he wanted her to be interested in him. Glancing off to the side slightly, Althea thought about the question. It would be best to answer this when they were alone. He wouldn’t like the answer.

“You don’t want to hear what I really think about you, not while you’re drunk.” Althea spoke in a solemn way, knowing that this answer was going to have some kind of emotional impact on him if she responded. While she didn’t care about saving someone’s feelings, this was going to be a problem getting him home and Lucifer already was blowing up her D.D.D. with texts. He could brush it off if he was sober, but drunk?

“Nu-uh. You gotta answer this-” He waved a hand away, getting his coat back on but then stumbled and fell down as he was trying to get up the stairs to the main level of the dorm as they exited. Narrowing her eyes at this, there clearly was only one solution.

“Fine. But I’ll answer when we’re out of the building, okay? You won’t want others to hear what I think of you.” Althea slipped an arm under Asmo’s leg, and the other behind his shoulder and lifted him clean off the ground. Looking behind her, in the same stoic, flat voice as always, she nodded to the host, thanking them for allowing them all to come over and, of course, putting up with the craziness.

“Oh, that intimate? So romantic. Is that why you’re carrying me like a princess? Does that mean that you’re my prince? Oh you shouldn’t have.” Asmo wrapped his arms behind her shoulders, kicking his feet back and forth as he was carried. He clearly wasn’t in the right headspace. When was he ever though?

“Very well… What I think of you.” Althea continued to walk as she thought how best to answer this. Asmodeus. The Avatar of Lust… An emotional, needy crybaby who would act out for attention, any attention, and demand everything of you and still want more. No. He was worse than that.

Once they had left the dormitory, Althea kept to herself on the streets, not wanting to pass by anyone to have them overhear, but also because she didn’t trust anyone, nor believe Asmo was in the proper state to defend her if they were attacked. As she knew not all demons obeyed and listened to Diavolo, she was careful not to venture too far out on her own at “night”. Asmo stared up at her with expectant eyes, he wanted to hear that she adored him, that he was her world and couldn’t live without him. He was wrong. So, without ceremony, she began speaking, eyes forward and not looking at him as she delivered her answer to, “Truth.”

“You’re a Parasite. A blight upon everyone you encounter. You feast upon the attention of others, leaving those who have the misfortune of encountering you a husk, drained of emotion after they’ve left your wake. You’re terribly selfish, thinking only of yourself, how it benefits you, how it makes you feel, and disregard the needs of others. Were I not immune to your charms you surely would have tried to sink your fangs into me. If it were not for this program, I’d avoid you like the plague. The toxic aura you spew forth is enough to choke on without even speaking to you. So… Seven out of Ten.”

Each word was left hanging in the air, each word a knife to his heart. It was the brutal honesty she felt towards him, and perhaps it would seem like insults, but to her they weren’t. She met worse, surely. However, he was a demon. This is how she viewed him and while she found his company tolerable, and sometimes fun, this was still his nature. Her eyes remained forward, focused on getting back to the House of Lamentation. Yet, despite what she said, all of her words, he went silent instead of crying loudly. His arms slipped off of her neck and crossed over themselves loosely.

It was a quiet walk back…

Rising up the stairs to the second level, Althea just side-glanced whomever she passed to ensure they didn’t start speaking or ask why the two were so quiet. As soon as she brought him back to his room, he was gently eased down upon his bed and he promptly turned away, pouting, curled up, a slight hunch to his shoulders. It was hard to tell how much of this was the not-alcohol was catching up with him or if he just wanted attention, but there was a bit of sharpness in her chest. Was she feeling back about telling the truth and hurting him?

“Asmo... “ Althea reached a hand out to his shoulder, he turned a bit to smack it away, and turned further around, sharply as the fringe of his hair fell forward, shadowing a bit of his face.

“Don’t touch me! D- Don’t you dare touch me. I’m just a parasite to you.” He pulled away again, this time sitting up and giving a sharp glare at her. There was a hint of light within his eyes, almost like it was glowing. He seemed to be so close to shifting into his demon form with how he was unstable right now.

“I mean- how can you call me that? I’m the Avatar of Lust. People WANT me. I am literally everyone’s type. Seven out of ten? That’s an insult. How dare you! You’re lucky you know. Mhm. If I was allowed to, I’d carve out what little heart you have and hold it beating in my hand. Then you’d see how beautiful I am! Then you’d love me, right?”

The way he spoke, how it flared up, the sharpness, the venom he was spitting, it was as she said. Parasitic. The way his shoulders rose and sank, the primal movement. It was similar to how those two were from the party earlier, clearly more in touch with his demonic side at the moment. Yet, there was something else there. The wounded animal. It came with the break of his voice as he started to settle down, no longer a fire, but a crackling cinder, dim in the night. A mournfulness filled his voice.

“Then… Then you’d love me, right?”

When once his anger settled down from the snarl, the snap, the visceral, a tormented sort of sadness filled his expression as he crawled towards her on the bed. Reaching a hand out, Asmo dragged it down her arm until he was holding her hand. It was not a touch of seduction, but one of longing. Cupping his cheek with her hand, Althea remained silent, watching what was he was doing, if it was a show or genuine response. She knew that whatever was consuming his thoughts, it was likely mixed and veiled as well. After all, demons weren’t truly capable of expressing true human emotion. Theirs was far more complex. So, sitting herself down upon the edge of the bed, Althea would be the emotional rock he needed right now.

“Asmo… You are still beautiful, but beauty isn’t love. You know this.” Her hand then started to brush against his cheek gently, seeing as he was still holding onto it, thumb rubbing back and forth, fingers curled to the side of his face. Something to calm him down. He seemed to like this action, nuzzling against her hand as he was hungry for affection of any kind.

Asmodeus was slow to respond, perhaps he was deciding on if he should answer, or if he was just too tired to respond. It seemed as if he was just content to hold her hand against his cheek, the warmth of her touch, even if it wasn’t as intimate as he wanted. Searching his eyes for truth, watching his gaze, the light still flickered within. But- a sharp tug caught her attention, Asmo pulled on her hand, toppling her off balance in surprise as his other hand pushed her shoulder down to the bed. Though she was sitting on the edge, he had overtaken and was now sat atop her hips, leering down with an intense glow in the burning hues of his gold and coral coloured eyes.

“... Nothing..” His voice was low, a lush whisper that trembled off his lips.

“...Not even now do I see a hint of desire in your eyes… Am I impossible to love? Truly love? I, who was once loved by all, now nothing. To look upon me was to know the Beauty of God. What am I now? A parasite…”

The demonus on his breath was just as bad as any alcohol. It lingered in the air and hung off every word, hot as it practically dripped upon her cheeks. Drawing closer, his face was mere inches from hers but even then, Althea did her best to hold back any sort of reaction. To not recoil, to not withdraw. Even if she wanted to react, he needed the emotional stability right now. She couldn’t feed into his energy, else he’d consume anything she gave off and it would be dangerous for the both of them.

“I may not love you, but that does not mean you’re impossible to love. When I look at you, yes, I see a parasite, but I also see all of that beauty within you. The glow upon your skin, the radiance of your eyes. All of this is true when I speak it, but you look most beautiful like this. This vulnerable scorpion, fighting with his nature. You wish to sting me even now, don’t you?”

With how low her words were, that bare whisper between their lips, the heat of her breath upon his skin, it was the closest physically she had ever been with Asmo. Still, he remained holding onto her wrist and shoulder, staring towards her but not making any movements. As his grip tightened, she also felt his hands trembling and then it released, tears welling and falling from his eyes to her cheeks before he lowered his head down to her chest, arms tightly wrapping behind the small of her back.

“Love me… Love me, please. Tell me I’m beautiful, that I am the most beautiful person you’ve met. Whisper sweet nothings to me and devote yourself to me. I…” Asmodeus clutched on tighter, arms holding onto her waist more as his face started to burrow into her. If she didn’t unwrap from him now, she’d end up sleeping here and who knew how he’d behave once the drunkenness wore off. Yet. She didn’t want to leave him alone. Not like this.

Sitting up slowly, Althea would gently shift in position and unhook his arms, even if he so desperately wanted to remain clung to her, it was the only way. Removing his shoes and setting them on the floor, she tucked him into bed. Fighting with his clingy hands, she had to constantly pull them off and tighten the sheets over him. Changing him out of his uniform was asking for problems so that was out of the question, but she did remove his jacket and loosen his shirt. Yet still, as Asmodeus lay there, looking sleepy, and pitiful, not even she could deny the bit of warmth that was nestled within her heart, the small bit of empathy she felt for him.

It was at this moment, looming over Asmodeus, staring into his eyes as he so often desperately wanted, Althea realized something. For all his age and history, for his time as an angel, then as a demon, he was like a child emotionally. This poor, frail creature, fallen from God’s Love that was hurt so. Yes, the rebellion that happened was likely something he didn’t regret, and something she didn’t blame him for, but to change so fundamentally from who you were from birth, to what you were now. It wasn’t as if she was the best Catholic, nor thought she was going to heaven when she died but still. He was an angel once. They all were angels. Except Satan. Yet Asmodeus, he who was loved by all, how desperate he had become in his moments of depravity.

“I care about you too much to lie to you like that, Asmo. Right now, this crippled, wounded creature you are before me, a parasite, a fallen angel, who you are, there’s nothing more beautiful in this world to me than to see someone like this...but I take no joy in it. Your inner self is exposed to me, and I want nothing more than to play with it, to manipulate it and abuse it for as much worth as I can extract but… It seems I’ve grown a fondness that prevents me from doing so.” It was her confession time now. The delicate way she spoke such harsh words, it was the nature of her internal conflict ions, so sure and not remorseful of those she hurt but fully aware of how toxic she was to others. At least, how she was to other humans. Normally, what she would do to others is manipulate them in this state, make them dependent upon her so that they can’t get away. Just as narcissistic as he, if not more so as she did it by choice. It was not in human nature to hurt others this much. It was a learned behaviour that she carefully cultivated over time and yet. Perhaps that is why she felt such respect towards demons? It was their nature, that any of them behaved civilly was a feat unto itself. How troubled her heart was at this moment. She should feel nothing for these creatures that strayed from God, but at times they were more human than she was. Asmodeus was about to sit up, stirred by what she said but Althea cut him off.

“Hush dear... You need your rest. If you truly want to, we can discuss this in the morning.” As she was leaning over Asmo on the bed, Althea stared down to his amber eyes, her hair draped over a shoulder like a curtain as she made sure his eyes closed. He seemed a bit reluctant to, but the lushness of her words, the soft lullaby melody she spoke, and quite a helping hand of the drink taking effect, he closed his eyes fully.

Slowly, her hand lowered to cup ever so gently atop his lips as her face drew close to his own. Careful not to touch him too heavily, her lips pressed delicately on the back of her hand. This indirect sign of affection wouldn’t be remembered in the morning, not by Asmo anyway. As her lips pulled away, her own eyes lingered upon his face, and she could not deny he was beautiful. He was like the golden child of a family, an Adonis if you will, something that others would want to remain in the company of. Yet she felt no hint of desire towards him, something he said so himself. Pulling away from Asmo who was now safely asleep, Althea quietly slipped out of the room.

He, who had seen and bore witness to the eternal light of Heaven, to bask within the Celestial Realm and to be called the Jewel of it, he must truly have been glorious, beyond beautiful. The way he looked at Simeon, with eyes of distant longing but not lust, she should have seen it sooner. Was he embarrassed about being a demon? Was he so fraught with melancholy that he’d never be as beautiful as he was as an angel? Perhaps. All she knew, however, was that in his moment of weakness, when she had been caught off guard, he could have followed through on his threat, he didn’t. Instead, he bore his heart out to her, held it shriveled and bleeding in his hands, and she didn’t break it...

Leaning against the back of his door, arms crossed behind her, thought started to betray her once more. Why didn’t she lie to him? She could have told him all he wanted to hear and he’d believe it. It would have been so easy to twist his desperation around her finger and have him depend upon her. So pitiful he was at that moment. So pitiful she was becoming that pulling away and leaving him to sleep alone, awake alone, started to gnaw away at her.

“Asmodeus…”

His name fell from her lips, eyes forlorn as she pulled off the door. The short walk back to her room was just as silent, heels clicking through the corridor. A lonely sound in the middle of the night.

“Please don’t make me love you…”

#Obey Me OC #Asmosweek #thefandomlovesasmo #milas-imaginarium

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mila-nott · 4 years

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**about mila nott.

I want money and all your power, all your glory. Hallelujah, I wanna take you for all that you’ve got.

basic information

Full name: Mila Louise Nott

Nickname: Mimi - only by Nikolai

Gender: Cisgender Female

Sexuality: Bisexual (not out to her parents)

Species: Witch

Date of Birth: January 6th

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn sun, Sagittarius moon, Leo rising

Languages Spoken: English and Spanish

Nationality: Cuban and Mexican

Blood status: Pureblood

appearance

Hair Color: Black

Hair Style: It depends on the outfit but she’ll usually have her hair up whether that’s in a ponytail, a bun, or a braid. When she’s not working that’s usually when she’ll have her hair down.

Eye Color: Brown

Tattoos: The Dark Mark on her left forearm

Piercings: She has two holes in each ear and her nipples pierced. She wears a stud and hoop in both ears then just regular silver bar jewelry for her nipple rings.

Skin tone: Tan

Height: 5′6

Clothing Style: Mila loves clothes and anything that has to do with fashion, she doesn’t have a distinct clothing style but she never wears the same clothes twice in the same week. She’ll never be seen wearing sweatpants, pajamas, or flat shoes out in public.

Other Distinguishing Features: The small gap in between her front teeth and she has multiple scars on her hands and forearms.

personality

Positive Traits: Confident, efficient, independent, and observant

Negative Traits: Aloof, calculating, decadent, and malicious

Character Alignment: Neutral Evil - A neutral evil villain does whatever she can get away with. She is out for himself, pure and simple. She sheds no tears for those he kills, whether for profit, sport, or convenience. She has no love of order and holds no illusion that following laws, traditions, or codes would make him any better or more noble. On the other hand, she doesn't have the restless nature or love of conflict that a chaotic evil villain has. Some neutral evil villains hold up evil as an ideal, committing evil for its own sake. Most often, such villains are devoted to evil deities or secret societies. Neutral evil is the best alignment you can be because you can advance yourself without regard for others. However, neutral evil can be a dangerous alignment because it represents pure evil without honor and without variation.

Likes: Fashion, successfully learning a complicated spell, money, when her parents tell her they’re proud of her, massages, skincare

Dislikes: Being talked down to, being treated like she’s less than, watching quidditch or anything quidditch related, horizontal stripes on clothing, and dogs

Hobbies: Reading, practicing spells, shopping, doing facemasks, playing chess

Fears: Being poor, marrying a muggle, being a housewife

Ambition: To restore the Nott’s reputation and be an extremely wealthy woman

family

Father: Theodore Nott Mother: Mariana Nott ( neé Pérez ) Sibling: Nikolai Nott, older brother by 2 years Paternal grandparents: Aldrich and Imogen Nott Maternal grandparents: Alvaro and Benita Pérez Uncles: Mauricio Pérez, None on his Father’s side. Aunts: Amada Diaz ( neé Pérez ), None on his Father’s side. Cousins: Fernán Pérez, Estefania Pérez, and Santanna Diaz Pet: A siamese cat named Alfred, he’s three years old Other noteworthy relatives: N/A Family home:

The Nott family estate is located in the country side of Englad. Their estate is cloaked from muggles, airplanes that pass by only see an illusion of a house in ruins. It’s a two story estate with a basement and 8 bedrooms and 7 and a half bathrooms. It has been in the Nott family for generations when they settled to England during the Renaissance.

After the war, Theodore’s parents went to Azkaban and he was forced to travel around Europe to escape the Aurors who were rounding up Death Eaters after the war. Theo found himself in Havana, Cuba where he met his wife. After being pardoned by the Ministry, with his wife and new child, the new Nott family returned to London. However, because the Nott’s assets were seized. They were forced to move to a suburban house. The new Nott family home is a two story house in the suburbs of England. It has 4 bedrooms and 3 and a half bathrooms. It’s also cloaked to keep muggles away.

Blood Status: Pureblood Social standing: Part of the Sacred 28, had a good standing as a powerful family the generation that his father was born, their standing went down after the war and their penchant for the dark arts came to light. They’re in an okay standing now, they’re not in the public eye as much. Family background: The Nott’s date back generations. They settled down in England around the Renaissance period, claiming land in the country side. They were a big family but swindled as they lived through generations due to only having 2 or 3 children to continue the family line. Each generation inherited their estate until the end of the Second Wizarding war.

individual magic

Wand Reaction When First Held: Her wand glowed at the tip when she first held it in her hand and made her hand and forearm feel warm, she automatically knew it was the one.

Wand: 9 inch Walnut with Dragon Heartstring, unyielding

Boggart: Being a beggar on the street and having nothing to her name

Patronus: A siamese cat

Animagus: N/A

Polyjuice: Has never used it

Amortentia: The crisp smell of money, tobacco, jasmine, and cedarwood

prologue

What happened before Hogwarts…

Mila, unlike her older brother, was never one to shy away from people or try to blend. She wanted all eyes on her and everybody’s attention, she was also very loud. At any gatherings Theodore held, Mila wanted to be right in the center of it all which usually lead to her being sent to bed not too long after. Mila didn’t seem to know what an “inside voice” was especially when she was very young, yelling was just her normal volume. It was as if she was a direct contrast to Nikolai which wasn’t a bad thing but it was different than what Theodore and Mariana were used to.

When Mila was around seven, that was when she’d begin to sneak into Theodore’s study and attempt to read all of the big books he had sitting on his shelves. She barely understood a word of it, of course. The words were too big and confusing but Theodore always promised her that one day he’d let her read everything he had once she was old enough. Around this time Mila really started to bond with her father, she loved her mother and brother too - of course. But she really was glued to her father’s side until she went to Hogwarts. She was practically under his feet where ever he went. Mila and Nikolai were never particularly close but there wasn’t any sense of a rivalry. They were just into different things at the time. It was pretty rare to actually see them hanging out when they were younger. However, that doesn’t mean that she completely left him alone she would often try to stick her nose into whatever he was doing just so she knew what he was up to.

years at hogwarts

first year

Sorted into: Ravenclaw Best subject: Transfiguration Favorite subject: History of Magic Worst subject: Herbology Least favorite subject: Flying Quidditch: She went to all of the games that Ravenclaw played in because she felt like she had to but was dreadfully bored during all of the games. Christmas holiday: Went home, she missed her parents like crazy. Other: Mila was heartbroken that she wasn’t sorted into the same house as her brother but she did make it her mission to stalk him out at any time she could. She knew he preferred to be “alone” but obviously, sisters don’t count.

second year

Best subject: Transfiguration and Charms Favorite subject: Potions Worst subject: Herbology Least favorite subject: Herbology Quidditch: She didn’t try out and had no interest in the sport at the time, she’d show up for some games to show her support for Ravenclaw but would’ve rather been in her dorm. Christmas holiday: Went home. Other: Began bonding with her fellow Ravenclaw students more and had a few friends but she didn’t consider them to be “close”. She more or less just spoke to them so she wouldn’t have to sit alone at lunch, she was still upset she wasn’t in Slytherin.

third year

Elective subjects: Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes Best subject: Transfiguration, Charms, and Arithmancy Favorite subject: Study of Ancient Runes Worst subject: Astronomy Least favorite subject: Herbology Quidditch: She went to about three games, max. Around this time, Mila stopped pretending that she was interested in quidditch and would only go if she was absolutely begged. Hogsmeade: She went with a few of her Ravenclaw buddies and had her first butterbeer, she did end up ditching her Ravenclaw friends for her new Slytherin ones. Christmas holiday: Went home. Other: This was the first year her brother didn’t come home with her and she was livid, she of course didn’t know what her older brother was going through so she took it a little too personally. She didn’t talk to him until her birthday the next month which was the longest she had gone without talking to him.

fourth year

Best subject: Study of Ancient Runes and Charms Favorite subject: Transfiguration Worst subject: Herbology and Astronomy Least favorite subject: Herbology Quidditch: She completely stopped showing up for quidditch games by this point, unless it was an important game even then she’d ditch early. She wasn’t concerned with pretending to like the stupid game anymore. Hogsmeade: Mila went with her Slytherin friends and a few Ravenclaw ones, she spent most of her time and money at Honeydukes then the group of them went to the Three Broomsticks before they left and had a butterbeer. Christmas holiday: Went home. Other: Mila and Nikolai began getting closer around this time, they weren’t exactly joined at the hip or anything but they hung out if they both had free time. There weren’t any deep conversations, usually them just sitting in silence and enjoying each other’s company. She was also absolutely terrified about what she had been hearing about the Death Eater attacks. Theodore didn’t tell her he was involved with the Death Eaters at this time.

fifth year

Best subject: Study of Ancient Runes, Charms, and Transfiguration Favorite subject: Charms and Arithmancy Worst subject: Herbology Least favorite subject: Herbology and Astronomy Quidditch: Didn’t go to any games at all her fifth year, she usually took this time to catch up on her school work or go sneaking around with her boyfriend at the time. Hogsmead: She went with a mixed group of friends from Ravenclaw and Slytherin, also with her boyfriend at the time. She had her first date at Madam Puddifoot’s teashop which was absolutely dreamy to her at the time. She went to Honeydukes after and then finished the day at the Three Broomsticks. Christmas holiday: Went home. Other: During her fifth year was when her relationship with Nik really blossomed but she couldn’t help but be disappointed since this was his last year at Hogwarts. But she really tried to see him every chance she got when she had free time. Mila still wasn’t told about her father’s involvement with the Death Eaters at this time.

O.W.L. Scores

Potions: Exceeds Expectations Charms: Outstanding Transfiguration: Outstanding Astronomy: Poor Herbology: Dreadful Arithmancy: Exceeds Expectations Study of Ancient Runes: Outstanding History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations Defense Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations

sixth year

Dropped subjects: Astronomy, Herbology, and Arithmancy Electives: Alchemy and The Study of Ancient Runes Best subject: Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts Favorite subject: Transfiguration and Charms Worst subject: Potions Least favorite subject: Potions Quidditch: Didn’t attend any games her sixth year, usually used this time to try and keep up with her Potions work since it was really difficult her sixth year. Hogsmeade: She went with a group of her friends and definitely ignored Madam Puddifoot’s since she was broken up with by her boyfriend at the time. However, she did go to the Shrieking Shack with her friends and ended up hexing him when she saw him with another girl. She got detention for two weeks for that but she thought it was worth it. Christmas holiday: Went home. Other: When she came home for Christmas this year, Theodore told her about his involvement with the Death Eaters. He told her that when she was seventeen she’d have to make a choice on whether or not she’d be joining them.

seventh year

Best subject: Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration Favorite subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration Worst subject: None Least favorite subject: None Quidditch: She only attended two games for her seventh year, she figured she might as well since it would be the last time she’d be seeing her house play - she only left early once. Hogsmeade: This year Mila went to Hogsmeade alone and spent most of this time reflecting on where her life after Hogwarts would take her. But she made her annual trip to Honeydukes, of course. Christmas holiday: Went home. Other: Mila got the Dark Mark this year.

N.E.W.T Scores

Potions: Acceptable Charms: Outstanding Transfiguration: Outstanding Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding Study of Ancient Runes: Exceeds Expectations Alchemy: Exceeds Expectations

epilogue

What happened after Hogwarts…

Once Mila left Hogwarts she got the Dark Mark like her brother. She knew that if the Nott’s were going to rise back up, all of them needed to be on the same page. While she was living at home, she was definitely struggling to find a job. She didn’t really know what she was qualified to do but she also didn’t want to be stuck in a job she hated or worse, behind a desk doing paperwork. Boring. Which was how she ended up as a Curse Breaker which definitely wasn’t a job that Mila had ever considered before. But she discovered that she really liked it and it also got her to work on her spells, especially her non-verbal ones. Mila lived at home until only last year since she was saving up her money to get a place of her own.

Her home is very ...modest but it’s her own and that’s what mattered to her. Even though she was always close with her parents (her dad more than her mom), she didn’t really make the time to visit them as much as she thought. On the rare occasion she would visit home, she always felt this need to do more and be better. She had to do more to try and get the Nott’s reputation restored, she had to be a better Death Eater but also better in her career. Since her father couldn’t remind her of this everyday since they were no longer under the same roof, it felt as if he had to drill it into her head as soon as she walked in through the door. Although Mila wasn’t really sure what else she could do, she was pushing herself as hard as she could.

Since she threw herself pretty much head first into her career and her life with the Death Eaters, she never really had much time for friends. She’d usually end up bailing on gatherings with her old friends from school or just flat out ignoring them. But Mila always had time for a little romance, even though the last serious relationship she had was when she was a fifth year. Having a nice man or woman (only men if you’re her parents) take her out and treat her to an expensive meal always lifted her spirits after working hard, especially the after dinner entertainment. Mila has little to no social life outside of that and she swears up and down that it doesn’t bother her but - of course it does. After seeing how her father treated her brother for being “weak”, she would rather die with the weight of the world on her shoulders than tell anyone she needs help.

#bio

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enccrypted · 5 years

Text

romance headcanons

name: park tae-joon (alias: kim hyeon)

nickname: “Joon” !! Though generally the only people to ever call him that were Mila and Mystik. And “TJ,” maybe, I can see that one being thrown around a bit.

gender: male.

romantic orientation: he generally avoids relationships and is not extremely interested in others sexually or romantically, but it all comes down to the circumstances and particularly to how he connects with someone. He doesn’t care about the specifics of sex or gender — I do personally tend to lean towards writing gay relationships, but that’s a me thing, and I want to emphasise that it doesn’t really matter to Crypto. I’m generally willing to try what he is willing to!

preferred pet names: hasn’t had any to speak of.

relationship status: single, but might fuck around, might settle down and find happiness in a committed relationship with mirage apex legends, haha just kidding....... unless????

favorite canon/fandom ship: God I have a few... I know that Cryptage (Crypto and Mirage) is a really big thing for the fandom (fic author once called it a “rarepair” and i was like huh??? are you kidding fam), and I personally love exploring their dynamic with vanishout. They have a rough start, but there’s no other person Crypto loves more... im emotional over Them, and Crypto is honestly so smitten. Their ship make me happy

I am also a big fan of Crypto and Octane! Something I’m messing around with whilst writing with deathchasing. They’ve got a lot of potential to go places, where exactly I’m still unsure, but guess we’ll sort that out later. :)

I am generally interested in shipping anyone with Crypto if there’s enough chemistry or an interesting enough dynamic. The only other characters I have on the brain though that I want to ship Crypto with are Bloodhound, Caustic, and Gibraltar. As of now though, I haven’t really properly discussed a ship with anyone else but Julie and Kabu.

favorite crossover ship: I don’t really have any! I can’t really think on the spot of one, either. I haven’t really taken Crypto out of his default Apex verse yet, but I’m willing to try.

opinion on true love: It exists, that much he knows. Love is what carried Tae-joon through life even as an orphan on the streets with nothing to his name. It’s what helped him survive, because he worked and fought tooth and nail every single day for the people he loved. Mila, and later on Mystik, proved without a doubt to him that platonic love exists and is one of the most powerful forces he could know. Without them, I’m not sure where he’d have ended up. He believes in love, perhaps with more conviction than most things.

BUT as for romantic love... sure, he’s absolutely sure it exists. But he’s convinced it’s just not something he can have. Like... Tae-joon’s been through shit, earnt the life he had before the Games with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He knows full well that he has worth, that he is deserving — but the way the Syndicate directly and indirectly stripped him of everything that he loves and cares about really hit him hard. It’s tough for him to reach out and connect with people, and even tougher to allow himself to love again after he’s been taught time and time again that he will lose everything he has valued so dearly, worked so hard for.

And he’s afraid for the people that might be in a relationship with him; loving Crypto doesn’t just make him vulnerable, he puts anyone who cares about him in direct danger as well. In that sense, he doesn’t think he deserves love. Even if he found it with someone who’s willing to care about him, the guilt of making them a target for the Syndicate... bad. It’ll take a hell of an exceptional partner (willing to put themselves in danger and to convince him that they’re okay with this) for Tae-joon to reach a point where he believes he is allowed to have love, and that he deserves it.

opinion on love at first sight: "amused at first sight” more like when it came to Mirage. I don’t think he’s really met anyone he instantly feel in love with on sight though, not as Park Tae-joon and certainly not as Crypto... it’s not hard to feed into the craving for human affection and for someone who really cares when he does slowly edge closer to someone. Like, when he actually allows them to be near him and lets them start forging some bond of trust. Honestly, love is never the first thing on his mind when he meets people, not even when he was living a civilian life as Tae-joon; there were always more important things to focus on.

how ‘romantic’ are they?: Even before the Games, he didn’t really have a great way of going about expressing emotions and communicating how he feels, let alone when it comes to unfamiliar notions of romance. He’s not entirely emotionally stunted, but he has a way of hyperfocusing on work, on taking comfort in things mechanical more than human, and rarely lets people interrupt him when he’s on a roll. He’s fairly aloof, but once he loses his previous life and identity, he comes to a realisation that he took human affection and contact for granted. Unfortunately he has no choice but to live without it after that; I think getting into a relationship, he’d be massively awkward about it to start with, but would quickly warm up and learn to be affectionate. He wouldn’t go out of his way to be, but he definitely would know the importance of even the simplest of gestures. He’d make it a point to show he cares, because he knows it’s not always obvious to someone that they’re loved — even fi it may seem obvious to others. At heart, Tae-joon’s a very soft and very caring person and does try to show it where he can.

ideal physical traits: Doesn’t matter to him. If he starts to love someone, he WILL find attraction in someone inevitably whether they are conventionally attractive or not.

ideal personality traits: he is... weak for soft and kind people. also loves someone who can match him in terms of intelligence and ability, someone who is good with banter. a good sense of competition. people with drive and ambition. there’s probably a tonne more, but it’s just not coming to mind right now.

unattractive physical traits: Tae-joon grew up on the streets as a child, parentless and homeless. He saw it all. It wasn’t hard for him to learn that there’s far more admiration and beauty to found in other things than in the physical appearance.

One point I do want to cover though: He thinks the physical result of his own augmentations and implants are unattractive. They’re a huge part of his survival and certainly technological marvels (designed all by himself, though he found outside help to have them implanted). But having to virtually gut and replace so much of himself really dealt a blow to his whole concept of his humanity and physicality. He has trouble seeing himself as a person sometimes, much less an attractive one with the enhancements he’s gone through.

unattractive personality traits: stupidity. ignorance. unwillingness to learn. taking things for granted, wasting life away. selfishness and lack of empathy / sympathy for others. betraying the loyalty and the trust of the people who love you. complete lack of morals or ethics. acting like you’re something you’re not. people who view themselves above others (even though.. he often does... hahaha)

ideal date: He doesn’t really have any standard of one, not really having been on one before (though can bet that Mila has tried to hook him up multiple times with a blind date or something, they always fell through or Tae-joon just didn’t want to).

do they have a type?: not entirely, I do like to joke around that he’s into himbos though. One himbo specifically, but overall there’s not any real pattern... I guess he would like soft people capable of showing kindness, who are the exact opposite of him in the sense that they still see beauty and value in the world for all the cruel wreck that it is. People who are willing to be kind without expecting kindness back, who is... willing to show crypto that sort of kindness and teach it to him again 😳😳 people who allow him to be vulnerable and understand the place he’s coming from...

average relationship length: So we’re making up pure lies and saying that he’s had actual past relationships? Fuckin wig... but I think he would enjoy moderate to long-term relationships when he does actually get into them. Obviously, he’s not going to start something with ease (commitment is a bitch when you’re in his situation), but he’s not going to start a relationship with the intention of dumping the other person early on.

preferred non-sexual intimacy: i’m thinking he probably values non-sexual intimacy a lot more than sexual actually, especially since i’m exploring current ships where sexual intimacy is involved but human affection and connection isn’t... which, in turn, just makes tae-joon feel a hell of a lot more emotionally disconnected and lonely. He really values the comfort of just being close to someone, around them in close proximity without worry. Being there with them, listening to them speak and paying them attention even if he’s not the most vocal or performative person... there’s a very real comfort in that. Just leaning against someone, I think, sharing contact that isn’t even necessarily romantic. He just wants to feel, and be felt — that simple human connection is Wildly important for him.

commitment level: Really fucking incredible. Like really fucking incredible if you get him to care enough, help him to open up and allow himself to care.

opinion of public affection: It flusters him (though I think he could learn to like at least a little bit of it. Having someone he loves and can show off in a subtle sort of way), and he probably doesn’t ever allow it anyway on account of not wanting anyone with their eye on him to pick out vulnerabilities. He’s very careful about keeping any relationships during the Games highly secret — no point in putting someone he cares about in harm’s way, and honestly I don’t think he could stand losing another person after he puts in all the effort to learn to trust and to love again. Affectionate gestures in private though, as said, is all good with him.

past relationships?: once he talked to a girl on an online mmorpg and they traded items and he thinks he got the better end of the trade so that was pretty epic. But no, he hasn’t had any.

tagged by: @incnspcuous and @deathchasing!!! thanks lads tagging: @aeiiope / @thunderolled pls bless me with yr girls.... @vanishout, @slature

#you're predictable‚ and i'm not. \` * file: headcanon.#long post cw #dash memes.

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iturbide · 5 years

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I loved that last snippet you posted! Though that does raise some questions, namely abt Grima. Him sometimes posessing/controling Robin is already cool, but what changed that he can do that? I'm super curious overall how he fits into the story, could you tell us a bit about him here? Like, you talked before how he was worshipped as Plegia's protector, and I'm curious abt how his character developed in this world

I’m so glad you enjoyed it I’ve been mulling that particular scene over for a while and trying to figure out how to write it, so I’m glad it turned out well!

but oh my friend i am always delighted to talk about grima c;

One thing to note from the outset is that we’ve actually seen Grima before. Twice. And even when Grima’s influence isn’t at the fore, there have been moments when Robin’s reactions weren’t necessarily his own. Grima is a constant presence here, subtle, just out of sight – and it all traces back to events in the last few millennia.

So this requires some delving into ancient history. A lot of things remain the same from a general timeline standpoint (though I don’t follow the Accordion because I take some issue with its progression of events; this ended up being a pretty solid breakdown of how I see the chain of events), but a few things are notably different, and they become very, very important.

To start with: Forneus didn’t just get divine dragon blood for his experiment. He managed, somehow, to lay hands on a viable Divine Dragon egg – an incredible, terrible feat given the fact that the degeneration had taken its toll on fertility rates and the Divine Dragon tribe had been decimated by the war. He wasn’t just performing alchemic experiments on blood, he had the real thing and used alchemy to modify and manipulate it, which resulted in Grima having the strength and many of the same general abilities as the rest of the Divine Dragon tribe, but with some oddities mixed in (a few things he can’t do that they can, a few more he can that they can’t) because of how that magic influenced his development. In the end, Forneus superstitions and his increasing mental instability made him try to kill his creation when it finally emerged, only to fail and lose the tiny dragon to the darkness of the labyrinth, which kept him safe from Duma’s destruction of Thabes and gave him room to grow until Alm and Celica accidentally broke the seal that let him out into the world.

Because Naga had retreated to the eastern half of the Archanean continent following Mila and Duma’s exile (due in large part to the fact that she couldn’t maintain life in the desert without Mila’s assistance), the creation ended up settling on the western side. His presence caused disturbances in the normal weather patterns, bringing more rain to the dry landscape, and soon enough the struggling desert populations began to flock to the dragon and establish a greater presence. These first humans called him Grima – and once he realized that it was their name for him, he began to respond quite readily.

Besides making life easier from an agricultural standpoint, Grima also offered humans shelter and protection from outside threats, both natural and manmade. He earned his title of “the fell dragon” through his fierce retaliation against those who caused harm to his people and his lands – but in general, he was a very calm, reasonable dragon who let people do their own things and just liked to watch, frequently doing flyovers of his territory just to see what they were up to.

Unfortunately, Grima never stopped growing. He just kept getting bigger and bigger as the centuries passed, until finally Naga couldn’t possibly miss him. Despite the fact that he showed no signs of degeneration and was by no means a threat to her people or his own, she judged that the risk he posed should he succumb to madness was too great – so she made her bond with her Chosen human and went to war with the fell dragon.

Now, Divine Dragons with that much power tend to have some strange abilities. Naga, for example, can hear the prayers of those who reach out to her (according to Nah’s support conversations with Morgan). Grima, being a full-blooded (if somewhat strange) Divine Dragon, had his own set of talents, though he understood them rather poorly – namely the ability to read the thoughts and hearts of those he could lay eyes on. And one look told him all he needed to know about Naga’s Chosen: he was, indeed, a powerful man – but he was also cruel and self-righteous, and Grima knew that if he won the battle then Grima’s people would be in great danger. And with Naga’s backing, the fell dragon’s chances of victory seemed slim at best.

So Grima turned to the people closest to him and granted them a small boon: not a full blood bond, the way Naga had with her Chosen, but a small fragment of power to help see them through the troubled times he feared would come. That gift was intended to help protect the people in his stead – and from there, Grima charged them with gathering as many as they could and heading west, away from the battlefield to come.

Grima had no army, when Naga and the first Exalt came. Grima fought alone, and fell alone, in a desperate attempt to save his people.

And that should have been the end of it. But what Grima didn’t know, thanks to his poor understanding of his own powers, was that the blood boon he granted those people would endure, passed down from one generation to the next over a thousand years. He didn’t know that a cult would form within the faith dedicated to his name, devoted to restoring the fell dragon’s blood to its full might. And he never, ever expected that there would come a day when a babe bearing his Mark was born into the world.

Grima felt it, when Robin entered the world. His body was dead and turned to nothing but bone and dust, but after a thousand years his soul suddenly had a physical connection to something, grounding him somewhere rather than simply existing formlessly and watching the passage of time. Grima has been there as Robin grew up, has seen the world close-up for the first time in centuries…and has realized, too, the dangers in it for not just the people he left behind, but for this child who bears his blood.

That connection is a strong one, and the fact that Grima’s soul is bound so closely to Robin means that things can bleed over between them sometimes. Grima has a visceral reaction to Falchion, for example, because he remembers the blade that took his life, while Robin interprets the sudden surge of emotion as fear at where things are headed. More often, Grima uses that bond to interact with Robin (though he interprets it as just mentally debating with himself, and Grima’s happy to let him think that), or to channel power to Robin when he needs it, giving him a surge of strength or magic to get out of a tight spot (basically I headcanon that Ignis is actually Grima lending Robin power in battle). But when things are dire, and something Robin loves is at stake, when he loses himself to panic or fear or rage – that’s where Grima will step in to ensure that Robin does not lose that which he holds most dear.

Grima’s careful about this, of course, never actually pushing Robin aside and possessing him completely. They exist in parallel – as though Grima has taken Robin’s hands and begun to lead him through the steps of an unfamiliar task, affording them incredible power with Grima’s focus to make the best use of it. That is a lot of energy to channel through a human, though, and it takes a serious toll on Robin’s body – he’s not kidding about the burning analogy, that much energy puts his every system into overdrive to increase his speed, his reflexes, his strength, his magic – meaning that even at his very best, Robin can only sustain Grima’s full might for about five minutes, ten if he really pushes it (and then his recovery period is significant).

(Fun note: the first time that happened, it was completely by accident. When they stumbled across that burned battlefield, Robin’s horror perfectly mirrored Grima’s own, and the resulting resonance pulled them into parallel with Grima getting his first actual taste of interacting with the world through a human body. It was Henry that jarred them both out of it, and pulled Robin back to the fore while Grima ceded control.)

Ultimately, Grima has no interest whatsoever in returning to the world. He’s content with the way things are, and being able to watch things the way he used to (actually it’s better, since he can get closer than he could in his flyovers); combined with the fact that Robin is intent on keeping Plegia safe for his own reasons, Grima is more than happy to lend him power when he needs it – and is actually quite pleased by Robin’s very peaceable nature, and the way he resorts to violence only as a last resort rather than fighting first and asking questions later (since Grima himself attacked only after the first enemy blow had landed).

And as a final, random note: Robin can read people the same way Grima could, though not with the same clarity (he can’t actually read minds, but he gets very strong impressions when he interacts with someone for the first time). Grima himself still has that ability, though, and when he’s at the fore he can get the full measure of someone from a look and then leverage it to its full advantage.

#fire emblem: awakening #fanfiction #headcanon #grima #robin #assassin's creed: awakening #answered #anonymous #can you tell i've thought about this a lot #i've thought so much about this #and honestly i love grima's moments of influence #both taking greater control and just lending support when needed #grima's happy to offer up power when robin reaches for it #it just took robin a while to learn how to make that contact

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fuckyeahjamieandclaire · 6 years

Link

LOS ANGELES–“Outlander” star Sam Heughan, who admits he wants to play James Bond, gets some practice in the action-comedy “The Spy Who Dumped Me.”

Swapping his period costumes as Jamie Fraser for an elegant tuxedo, Sam looks 007-ish in his new movie, whose name is a play on the classic Bond title, “The Spy Who Loved Me.”

Playing a charming British agent named Sebastian, Sam gets entangled with two Los Angeles pals (Mila Kunis and Kate McKinnon) who are involved in a spy game.

Excerpts:

Can you talk about the sexiness of being a spy? Obviously, the film is a nod to past Bond movies. Or it’s probably closer to the Bourne movies, actually—the tone and the action. I’ve always wanted to play James Bond. It’s part of every British actor’s heritage.

I read a great book about someone from the MI6–his life within MI6 and what that daily life meant to him. It is a high-stakes, dangerous situation. We had to make that real in this movie for the comedy to work.

We have the first female Doctor Who (Jodie Whittaker) now. Do you think there will ever be a female Bond? I’d love to see that. I’d like the part myself (laughs) but if they are going to cast someone, let’s have a female Bond.

While making this movie, which scene gave you such an adrenaline rush? It’s the big action sequence in Café Sacher in Vienna, where I basically destroy the café–shooting guns and kicking some ass out.

But to be honest, there was a shot at the top of the Berlin Museum. I’m standing there in a tuxedo and we had a great crane shot. It was one of those moments where you’re like, this is a big movie, there’s a huge camera on a massive crane out there and we’ve got hundreds of extras.

It felt very Bond, very slick and expensive.

Do you think you would be a good spy? I’d be a terrible spy. First of all, they have to fit into any scenario. Spies are undercover a lot, it seems in countries with hot temperatures, in which I’m not so good with.

While you do good stunts, the women kick ass in the movie. Did you enjoy seeing that side of women? They kicked my ass (laughs). Completely. Not just Mila Kunis and Kate McKinnon, but Susanna Fogel (director), she is the kick-ass. She wrote this terrific script with David Iserson and she really helmed the whole thing with great humor. She was always calm and in control.

This is an action-comedy. How comfortable were you doing the comedy part? I was terrified, or intimidated, shall I say. “Outlander” is one thing and drama or theater is where I come from.

To be standing opposite Kate McKinnon from “SNL” or Mila Kunis was, from day one, kind of intimidating.

So it was a very big learning curve for me—the comedy world. There’s a way of working. They very much pitch ideas. They’re constantly changing the script. Every take would be different with those girls.

It was a lot of fun to be in that environment, which is actually more free.

Susanna created this free environment, allowing people to do what they’re good at.

When you first cut your long hair short, did you feel like Samson losing his power? Oh, I’ve lost the power (laughs). Maybe. We’ve got a great wig department (in “Outlander”).

Yeah, it’s pretty much part of the character and certainly, in growing my hair, it becomes part of who Jamie is.

So, I was nervous about cutting my hair, to be honest, because it becomes a part of your brand and who you are.

Susanna said that the crew members had a sister, wife or girlfriend who wanted to meet you. It’s about the character. Jamie Fraser is like this unicorn of men. To be honest, that’s down to Diana Gabaldon and her writing.

How do you see yourself when you look at the mirror? It isn’t quite so good-looking.

By this time, are you used to taking off your shirt for scenes? No, [I’m not]. It’s a part of the show.

“Outlander” fans are counting the days until November. What can they expect in Season 4? We’re portraying America in its infancy. For Jamie and Claire initially, it’s pretty good. We finally get to see them together, settling down and being domestic, almost.

It’s America in its infancy, so it’s a land of immigrants. It’s interesting to see all these different cultures, in a big mishmash. Scotland is doubling as North Carolina, where we are set.

This finale is our strongest yet. It’s going to take you a few episodes to get there, but without giving away too much, we have some remarkable Native Americans.

http://entertainment.inquirer.net/284787/sam-heughan-likes-go-jamie-james-bond#ixzz5LucMsvqv

#sam heughan #the spy who dumped me #susanna fogel #outlander #outlander starz #tv news #tv: s4 #people: sam heughan #queue

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deanmiles13 · 5 years

Text

I WANNA’ BE ELECTED

“THE TIME I CADDIED FOR ALICE COOPER AND LIVED TO TELL ABOUT IT!!!”

I Wanna Be Elected! Well not really. You see.... I was working at a shop that had been bought by Neil Lomax. He was a Portland native, who had graduated from P.S.U. and had a career in the NFL. The Cardinals to be specific. Which, had relocated to Phoenix Arizona in 88.

Home of J.F.A., The Meat Puppets and the great Mighty Sphincter. Oh and George Lynch, and Rob Halford. And the one and only Alice Cooper.

Now, almost everyone knows that Alice is a serious golfer. And that’s where we are going with this story. Not really a Rock and Roll story except for when I hound him with trivia questions, later. So, back to Neil. Super sweet man and excellent human being. He was heading to play a golf event that Alice would be at, in Phoenix one weekend, and he said, “Hey Dean, going to see your buddy Vince Fernier. See, Neil actually thought his name was ALICE COOPER. I corrected him one day and he loved VINCENT. He even came back from this event with a framed Hatch Show Print poster of the event. He let us display it in the shop when he got back. I was hoping he didn’t care for it and would part with it. But alas, my reward was yet to come. He actually had another golf tournament and I sent him down with a copy of Killer.

It came back signed and I was stoked. But there would be more....

So, then Its Neil’s turn to have his big golf event “The Quarterback Shootout”.

It’s an annual charity event he is really known for in Portland. A meet and greet with NFL legends and local celebs. The big ones I can recall are Drew Bledsoe, Marcus Allen, Charles Barkley, Jim Plunkett.

Having worked with Neil for a while, he had events and people would help and volunteer from work. The big event was this golf thing. Everyone fought over caddying for Charles Barkley. He was big tipper. The real cool thing was, this year Alice was coming up for it as a favor to Neil. No one at work was stepping up to caddy for him. What I knew about golf fit into a golf tee.

I imagined me out there fumbling around and dropping clubs to the sound of all that iron clanging and people laughing. So I was petrified, to say the least, when it was decided that I was going be Alice Cooper’s caddy. They demanded that the “residential rocker” at work, handle this rock royalty on the links.

Well the thought of me on a golf course was as foreign to my mind as being a surgeon, so I spent the morning getting ferociously stoned at home. The event was held at Heron Lakes Golf course and I lived pretty close. I got to the golf course and met up with everyone from work and just kinda waited.

Some people were already on the part where you tee off and practice. The driving range?!?!? You can see I’m out of my element here!

Anyway, we are kinda waiting for our assigned celebs to show up when a car pulls up, out comes this really petite person. All in black with their back to me. I was unable to make out who it was. They turn around and it’s Alice. People cheer and they hand me his clubs. This is the first time I have EVER held golf clubs. I used a golf bag for my drum stands to carry to many clubs, but this was the first time the had actual clubs in it.

He signs some stuff and is escorted my way, and I’m on the driving range. The first thing I tell him after we are introduced is “Alice, there is NOTHING I can tell you today to help you in any way on the course today!!!” He smiled and said “ I think I got it.”

That put me at ease right away.

We made our way to a practice area of sorts and already, people were coming up for autographs. I got the impression I would be doing a little security work today as well.

That was no problem actually since I had done set security on movie sets and all sorts of events. And he was approached by all sorts of people. Old, young, and everything in between. The first person I remember to approach held out a cassette and said “I took your music to Vietnam with me!” Alice stopped on a dime and just talked right to the guy. Not to/at him, but TO HIM!!!.

I could tell right away that this dude was genuine. Little kids with Todd McFarlane/Alice Cooper dolls would come up and he would sign the smallest signature. Taking time with everyone he took a photo with. He had a line for everything. After the photo was snapped he would say “Now, I may not show up in the picture when you get it developed.” He was, in a word “PROFESSIONAL”

This is a guy who hung out with Harry Nelson, Keith Moon, Salvador Dali.

I mean, he was on the Muppets for cryin’ out loud!!!

I know we were paired up with Jim Plunkett and played against Drew Bledsoe and Rick Mirer. Jim was an old school NFL dude and was here to have a good time. Drew Bledsoe did some things that day that I thought really were uncool. For someone being asked to a charity event, to sign autographs and take pictures, he was acting like he was being put out. It was interrupting his game. That was the whole point of this thing. You could saddle up next to the celebs and say hi and a bit more. It’s what they paid for, quite frankly. He was taking his golf game a little too serious if you ask me. Jim and Alice had wagers going as to who could drive the ball the farthest and stuff like that. Alice was a petite guy and Jim was a bigger dude.

Alice won the drive contest. The main thing that I took a way that day was answers to a load of questions that I had. Some prepared and most just off the top of my head.

As I relate some of these, just realize, that I’m paraphrasing what was said. He was so totally open and honest with me, it was quite staggering to be honest. I would feel horrible if anything was misinterpreted.

I started by asking about Johnny Rotten doing the liner notes on a Rhino Box set and he said “Johnny hates EVERYONE.... EVERYONE! Except ME! I can’t believe it.

I guess him and Sid used to play Dead Babies on acoustic guitars to make pocket money.”

I was like, Oh, it’s on! We proceeded to hole one, and I started chronologically with his career and headed back to Detroit. I asked about Ted Nugent, Bob Seger, MC5 and Iggy. He said “I’ll open for anyone! The Stones! The Who! But not Iggy! He just wipes the crowd out. Uses them up and wrings em’ out, and I can’t come on after that.”

I asked about his song “Only Women Bleed” and he said that was a number one multiple times, multiple countries, for multiple people.Tina Turner had a hit with it and he was proud of that.

I asked if he was a WHO guy or a STONES guy. He said “Listen to the opening of Elected.” DUH!!!

There were some interesting crowd interactions. From, two young dudes that wanted to have him sign a joint they had, to the McFarlane dolls and everything else. I told kids with the joint, there was no way... Then I mentioning it to Alice and he said “Yeah, it’s like right when you quit smoking weed and your friend comes over with 8 ounces and says “Hey, I’m leaving town for a few months, can you hold onto this for me?!?!”

This one women came up to us and was yelling to get his attention. Frankly, I was a little sketched about having to “deal” with her. We go over, she says “Can you sign something for me?” He says “Of course, what do you want signed?” She starts pulling scarp pieces of paper out of her pocket and I mean like a match book, a receipt, and just whatever. So he signs whatever it was and we walked away. He is being real silent, like in his head and he said “Man, that was 40 miles of rough road!!! I often wonder what I would be like if I had kept drinking and what not ?!?!”

That was probably one of the most profound things he said that day. I asked him when he quit drinking and he said, when his daughter was born. I too had recently quit with drinking and found this to be sort of a bonding moment for us. I remember that I had brought some items to have him sign. A postcard and an album etc. But the cool thing was I asked him at the last minute if I could have the ball he had used for the whole game. That was awesome, and I still have THAT.

I had all the stuff I wanted to asked and had kinda prepared the questions in my head, but it was the interaction with his fans that was really neat to see. The two young women who came up and started to bow and say “We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy.” I had kind of spaced the whole Waynes World thing, and when I told him “Oh man, I kinda forgot about that!” He replied “ I didn’t!!”

I asked if he gets that from people all the time, seeing as it was a whole new generation of exposure sorta thing. He said “No! It’s just that, when you get a movie script and you just see your scene, it’s not like you get to see the whole movie. It’s just me, backstage, Mila-wa-kay- and then we split.”

I’m still not really picking up what he’s putting down... “So when they asked us what we wanted, we just took my day fee for the movie and didn’t worry about any “back end” so to speak. So what happens? The movie goes on to make 18 million opening weekend.” He was not kidding... you could see that this one hurt.

I had mentioned a quote from him in Rolling Stone, I had recently read in which he commented on Marylin Manson. He said “Yeah... Real original. Call your self a girl name and put makeup on. Where have I heard that one before?”

Not in a rude or snide way, but in a kinda joking way. With a smile... I guess that’s what it all came down to that day. Here was a man who had done it all, seen it all, drank it all, and snorted it all. And in the end, he was alive, enjoying something that kept him sane (golf). Now, he’s out the other side, meeting people, saying HELLO - HOORAY!!! Let the show begin!!!

He was so at ease with it all and it was a true pleasure to watch him “work”. When anyone ask, what was he like?

I just say... “In a word - KILLER”

He was a man who seemed very content where he was. I mean if you weathered a storm like he did and lived to crawl from the shipwreck and right yourself for a second, third career?!?!?

Man... that’s it!!! That’s a success.

Telephone is ringing......

#alice cooper #golf #rockandroll

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omgkatsudonplease · 6 years

Note

I love when you do things like this! Song: Feelings by Hayley Kiyoko :-)

thanks! it’s always a good way for me to challenge myself and get my writing brain going again 🙏

the character anzwei kuhn is stolen wholesale from @exile-wrath! thanks pal

The Armistice Ball is a roaring success, which naturally means Viktor, Crown Prince of Neva and scion of the House of Nikiforov, wants to leave.

He supposes that it’s a bit cliche, sorta like all those Terran holofilms that Gosha likes to watch so much. A privileged little prince, hating the fact that he has it better than most of the people in the world. He should at least smile, and wave, and make nice with the people he needs to be nice to. But even that feels like it’s too much.

Compliments slide off him like water as he wends his way through the crowd. People know him even through the mask on his face; they bow to him and say all sorts of pleasant nothings. The weather, how good he looks tonight, would he be interested in spending time with them later?

“I have a pleasure ship docked at the spaceport, if Your Highness would like to see it,” an Allegrian purrs at him, looking up through her long, inky lashes. He can smell the musk of her scent: aggression, passion. Nevans have so many opinions and stereotypes about Alpha Allegrians, and he’s sure she’s quite lovely when she isn’t publicly broadcasting her availability to the entire planet.

He makes his excuses, but he’s barely taken two steps away when he finds his path blocked by the Kerri delegation. The leader of the bunch sizes him up and down, their iridescent eyes shining enigmatically. Despite that, Viktor can sense much of the same feelings rolling off of them as from the Allegrian.

Sure enough, the Kerri in question then tilts their head, their antennae bobbing and pulsing in excitement. “Truly, it is an honour to meet you tonight, Prince Viktor,” they drawl, in a voice that reminds Viktor of a paper bag crumbling. “I’ve heard so much about you. Is it true that you could –”

Viktor’s tempted to turn off his translator. He didn’t really need to know what people are saying about him on Kerr. But instead he smiles, shaking his head. “I have never heard of anything like that,” he replies, before sending a long-suffering look towards Yakov, his mentor and the Royal Advisor to the King. Yakov nods towards another cluster of foreign guests, so Viktor takes a breath and makes his excuses to the Kerri delegation.

“We are the Mandalans from the Neva-Mandala Exchange Programme,” says the first person when Viktor draws closer. “And we are gratified that Your Highness has chosen to greet us personally.”

Viktor smiles. The Mandalans bow, one hand folded across their chests. He copies them as well as he can.

“And I am gratified to receive your delegation this evening,” he replies. “May the Emperor rule for many more centuries.”

“May the Emperor rule,” agrees the first Mandalan. The others mutter stuff much to the same extent.

“What are your names?” Viktor asks, curiously testing the emotional waters around them. As expected, all he runs up against is a blank, contrasting with the high-strung hysterical adoration or slippery political posturing from so many other guests.

“Anzwei Kuhn,” says the first Mandalan. “And these are my colleagues, Cale Serfe and Seung-gil Lee.”

Viktor hums. “How are you enjoying Neva, then?”

“It has been satisfactory,” replies Anzwei. “The hospitality accorded to us at the University of Moyka is acceptable.”

Viktor isn’t sure if that’s a translation error, or if the Mandalans really intended to be such harsh graders of Nevan hospitality. The fact that he can’t discern their true emotions on the situation makes everything much harder.

Nevertheless, he smiles, gesturing towards the rest of the ball. “Well, enjoy yourselves. If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

At his next respite, he goes to seek out Yura. The younger prince is in avid conversation with a Beta Allegrian with dark hair and a surly expression; he glowers at Viktor as he draws closer. “You stink of neediness,” Yura bites out.

“You should greet more people than just old friends,” Viktor says, looking sidelong at the Beta Allegrian. “Otabek, right?”

“Yes,” says Yura. “He’s just told me about his new mediatorship.”

“Really? Congratulations.” Viktor nods at Otabek. “To whom?”

Yura’s expression grows pinched. “Leroy has mated,” he growls, with about as much disdain as if he’d just stepped in a glob of Eterian slime.

“Oh, congratulations to them, too.” Viktor has no idea who Leroy is, but they’re probably an Allegrian, and Yuri probably hates their guts. He decides not to press the issue further, clapping the younger prince on the shoulder. “Anyway, I think I’m going to step out for a bit, so if you want to take over all of my duties, I’ll owe you –”

“Ugh, who’s caught your eye tonight?” mutters Yura.

“I – that’s a gross exaggeration. I don’t always end up with –” Viktor sighs. If he can’t even defend his reputation from family, how can he hope to do it with strangers? “You know I don’t. You know. Bond-bond.”

“But you do temporary ones,” Yura points out. “Everyone’s seen those, splashed all over the tabloids the next morning.”

“Those aren’t real.” Viktor waves a hand. Could anyone really blame him for wanting to experience someone else’s emotions for a little while? To have the same intense point of unity without the sticky legalese of a permanent bond? No one could become the strongest empath in the galaxy – and the most talented one in Nevan history – without the accompanying hole inside them where their own feelings should be.

“Not real, sure, but still. Just say someone’s caught your eye and go, already,” hisses Yura. Viktor squeezes his shoulder, then, with a little bracing twinge, before skipping off into the crowd.

He’s just making his way past the fountain when he collides with someone, splashing blue wine down the front of his uniform. The person splutters, embarrassment flashing bright across his cheeks. Viktor’s heart does a double take.

They’re the most beautiful Terran he’s ever seen. A shock of dark hair over skin that glows warm like firelight, eyes that sparkle like topaz. For a moment, the world around them seems to go deathly silent, all other emotions fading into static. The clarity sends a shiver down his spine.

He’d only ever read about these sorts of encounters before. Very few Nevans get to experience such perfect moments of clarity, but in the presence of another it takes on an intensely intimate meaning. Viktor can only distantly hear his own voice as he apologises to the Terran, who takes a step back, eyes widening. They say something about their drink, gesturing to their glass. Viktor tries to will his mind back to Neva to catch what they’re saying.

“I’m so sorry,” the Terran says. Viktor is suddenly rocked by a bolt of their intense curiosity and attraction.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to ruin this.” He bows to the Terran, smiling at the pink flush in their cheeks. He knew their blood was red, but to see it manifested so is honestly fascinating. “Your outfit is excellent, by the way. But did no one tell you it was a costume ball, not a strip club?”

The Terran bypasses pink and lands right on red, their hands coming up to cover the daring mesh panels on their flamboyantly-cut Nevan suit. “I’m going to murder Phichit,” they mumble. Viktor has no idea who Phichit is, but he suspects they’re going to need to explain why they’d decided to dress their friend in Nevan bondage gear pretty soon.

“It’s really no matter,” he says. The Terran’s outfit may be a shade too scandalous for a royal ball, but he’s already seen worse ensembles out there. “As strip club outfits go, it’s positively classy.”

“I knew I should have covered up,” says the Terran, shaking their head. “I’m so sorry if I’ve offended your gaze or something. I’ll just –”

“No.” The word blurts out of Viktor before he realises it. “I mean – here.” He unclips his cape, a soft satin-and-fur affair that he only ever wears to formal events, and drapes it over the Terran’s shoulder. “Now you’re modest.”

“Thank you,” mumbles the Terran. “Remind me to murder my friend, too.”

“I’ll be sure to,” replies Viktor. “In the meantime, could I tempt you with a dance?”

He suspects that all the available cameras in the room are now trained on this moment, as the Terran nods and takes his hand. They head out into the other whirling couples, moving in time to the music. The cape flows rather fetchingly behind the Terran as they step together.

“You know Nevan dances?” asks Viktor, quirking an eyebrow.

“I pick things up,” says the Terran. “My childhood dance instructor was well-travelled.”

Viktor beams. He’s wearing gloves to avoid scandalous touches, but even through the fabric he can sense some of the Terran’s emotions. Besides, they’re broadcasting most of it in their expressions – trepidation, nerves, with an undercurrent of excitement.

And some confusion. They don’t have any idea who Viktor is.

Viktor wants to know more. “I don’t recall seeing you on the guest list,” he says. “Someone as attractive as yourself would be memorable.”

The Terran looks down, almost demure. “I’m not – I’m a companion,” they say. “My friend Phichit and I are companions for the crew of the Firebird?”

“Mila Babicheva!” Viktor had known Yuri was trying to lure her back home; he had no idea that it’d actually succeeded. “How is she?”

“She came here for a royal pardon. Would you happen to know Prince Yuri? Apparently he’s supposed to give it to her.”

“That’s irresponsible of him,” remarks Viktor. “He can’t just give out royal pardons to anyone.”

The Terran freezes. “Wait, does that mean –”

“I know Prince Viktor could,” continues Viktor. “I think he could be persuaded, if you know what I mean.”

There’s a pause, and then the Terran’s brows knit adorably. “I’m… I’m not sure,” they manage. “I hear things about Prince Viktor.”

Viktor almost preens. Almost. “What have you heard?”

“He rejected all of the options the Royal Matchmaker provided for him,” parrots the Terran, almost like they’re quoting a Starboard post about how problematic the Crown Prince of Neva is. “Supposedly he’s some irrepressible playboy or something.”

Viktor laughs. “If he’s a playboy, why would he need a matchmaker?”

“You’re the Nevan, you’d probably know better.” A pause, and then the Terran pauses, flushes hard. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. I mean. I guess it’s a bit strange?”

“You don’t seem to know much about Neva,” Viktor remarks.

“I’m sorry!” pleads the Terran. “It’s my first time here; I’ve only ever seen pictures and heard stories from Mila. Please don’t arrest me!”

Viktor shakes his head, putting on his best fake-serious expression “We don’t do arrests on Neva. We just kill the offenders.” It’s a terrible joke, but seeing the Terran squirm is a little too entertaining. Still, after a moment he can’t handle it anymore and bursts out laughing. “I’m sorry, that was – we haven’t executed someone in over a standard century.”

“First time for everything,” replies the Terran grimly. Viktor chortles.

“Well, to answer your question,” he begins, but then the song draws to an end. Viktor spies the door leading out onto the balcony and pulls the Terran there, his heart immeasurably light at how willing the Terran goes, curiosity oozing from their every pore. “The Royal Matchmaker designates candidates suitable for marriage into the Royal Family. However, Prince Viktor has frequently been spotted enjoying the company of other beings, flouting official fraternisation protocol.”

The Terran is silent about that for a moment, their hands skimming across the crystal railing of the balcony. The entire structure glimmers in the moons’ light; the planet’s rings hover just a couple degrees short of perpendicular to the horizon.

“Why would he want to do that?” the Terran asks after a moment, looking up at Viktor through their lashes. Viktor finds it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Well, when they look so beautiful…” he trails off, swallowing. “I mean. I don’t know. Maybe he’s just really lonely.”

“Lonely?”

Viktor nods, slowly drawing off one glove. The Terran’s gaze rivet to his fingers, their eyes wide. “Well, he doesn’t like any of the prospective candidates, and he’s wondered for so long if maybe…”

His fingers are just bare centimeters from the sides of the Terran’s face. Everything grows hushed, as if the universe is holding its breath.

Viktor is barely aware of his own words. “Maybe the one who makes his world stop, the one who he’s destined to be with is not from Neva at all.” He’s feeling something – so many things – and for once he’s certain it’s not just the curiosity and attraction that rolls off the Terran in waves. It’s his own emotions, slowly bubbling to the tips of his fingers now breaths from the Terran’s skin.

The Terran tilts their head, unconsciously presenting their lips. Viktor knows that’s how they kiss, and in this bright, burning moment he wants to indulge the Terran in that custom, and perhaps plea for them to stay longer –

And then there’s the sound of an explosion, and seconds later the bright crystal shrapnel of the glass ballroom comes flying at them.

#yoi #yoiroyaltyweek #viktuuri #victuuri #day 1 #lily's dabbles #rewrite the stars #ariksay #ask

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

BLINDFOLD (GUESS WHO)

One shot: The entire class starts to play “hide and clap” with a little twist, well for Camila, there is. What happens to both her and her bestfriend, Lauren once they get caught up in the ‘little twist’?

A/N: Just a short one shot, I hope you enjoy! (5H x 1D fic)

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Junior high. It was about to end in only a few months to last, with Senior high starting to take a peek in to their lives, waiting for them to finish their last year as a young and free student in the four corners of their school. Camila thought to herself, how fast would time fly if their class chooses to spend it on quietness?

It was 10:30am and their Math teacher was out for a teacher’s convention. Turning the next page of the book, Camila felt calm, in fact, so calm that she couldn’t think of anything anymore besides getting the right logarithmic equations for the graphs their teacher left for them to answer. She felt tired, being a result of having lack of sleep due to a bunch of Science home works.

She closed her book for a while and took a deep breath. She stretched her arms and yawned. She definitely needed that sleep. Her elbows propped on the armchair as her chin rested on her palms. Her eyes wandered around the classroom searching for something interesting to do, but landed on the green eyes by her left. The green-eyed girl was situated one seat away from her, and with the eye contact, they shared a smile. It actually lasted for a few seconds, more than Camila could take, so she broke it.

Camila somehow still remained smiling after breaking the eye contact. The girl she just shared a look with, was Lauren Jauregui. The Lauren Jauregui who’s known to be the consistent MVP of the softball team due to her skills, but also the one Camila had a few fun talks with whenever she conducted an interview with her, being a journalist in their school. The Lauren Jauregui who is well-known for her amazing Math abilities, but also the one who stays in school a little longer just to study with Camila for a History exam. The Lauren Jauregui who probably owned the hallways due to her status, but also the one who approached Camila on the first day and went with her when she was lost. And most of all, the Lauren Jauregui who’s cheerful and everyone’s favourite when it comes to social parties and gatherings, but also the one who cried in Camila’s arms when her father never came back after she finished sophomore year.

Camila was special to Lauren when it came to connecting and being vulnerable. Lauren was special to Camila too, but she was, in a different way. Along the way, Camila grew an unbearable feeling, with her heart pounding and having puppy eyes every time she was with the girl. She liked her for her heart and not for her status, but unfortunately, she would always feel down when she thinks of the fact that maybe, the feeling isn’t the same. That she was just a trusted close friend to her, that when she needed to pour her heart out, she needed to be there, but she was nothing more than that to her.

Camila and Lauren have been friends since freshman, in fact, they were each other’s first friends in high school, until they parted ways, have gone to different groups, but somehow still found ways to reconnect with each other like going out for coffee, hanging out after a short school interview, or sitting silent on the school rooftop when one of them just wanted to let out some emotions. They always had this unspoken promise to be there for one another because they knew each other ever since they’re lives kind of changed as they stepped foot in to the high school life.

They provided each other that safe haven no matter how far they got. Lauren will always be there to smile at Camila in the crowd during her games, and Camila will always be there to smile back.

Camila haven’t noticed the change of activity in the classroom until she felt her Math book drop from her armchair. She whined to herself for letting it slip, but before she could pick it up, Lauren stopped her reaching hand halfway, and reached for the book herself. She didn’t even notice the green-eyed girl dismount from her seat. Lauren smiled as she placed the book back on Camila’s armchair, and not only did she do that, but also pinched the smaller girl’s cheeks before heading to the lockers at the back of their room.

Camila blushed when Lauren was now out of her sight. She just gets all flustered because of her. Having feelings for a friend is fun since you guys grow a bond already, but at the same time, it’s really difficult to control yourself around them.

“Guys, I’m bored. Let’s go play or do something.” One of the students, Dinah, said to the entire class. Almost all the students agreed, including Camila, also having noticed the very mundane atmosphere. Some students headed outside for a breather or went to the restroom, and some declined, just preferring to watch the action that would take place.

Normani said, “Sure, what game do you guys want?”

The group of students pondered and proceeded to think. Camila just waited for anything that they would come up with.

“How about…” The curly-haired tall boy trailed. “How about that game where you blindfold someone, they’ll go find you, and they have to guess who that person is. And when person was guessed, they’ll be the new ‘it’.”

“You mean ‘Hide and Clap?’” The blond Irish boy asked.

“Maybe?” He replied.

Dinah interrupted. “I think we can go with that, except maybe running can be involved. But when the ‘it’ grabs you or something, you are not allowed to escape from them and that’s when they’ll find out who you are. It’s more fun, and will be more of a challenge for the ‘it’.”

They all chuckled and agreed. The curly-haired boy said while smiling, “You are evil, Dinah.”

“Just being creative, Harry.” The girl replied and they all formed a circle with Dinah singing a short song that’ll last until the song stops on a player.

“….As. Sharp. As. A. Pen.” Dinah finished with her finger pointed at Lauren.

All except Lauren were relieved for not being the ‘it’, at the same time, teased the green-eyed girl.

Camila laughed and said, “Lauren’s the ‘it’.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Lauren said, jokingly rolling her eyes. She turned around, waiting for the blindfold to take place.

Zayn did the honour of blindfolding her and making sure she couldn’t see. Ally whispered something to Dinah, and Dinah made a step towards the blindfolded girl.

“Don’t worry, Lo. You can ask us to clap as many times as you want.” She finished, then pinched her nose. Lauren’s face scrunched up at the action and slapped away Dinah’s hand. “Okay spin her around.”

Zayn held her by the shoulders to spin her around. “1….2…….3!” He said, then they all made a move to get far away from her. Their classroom chairs were tidied up to one side, leaving a massive space for them to run and play.

Camila hid by the curtain behind Lauren. Others hid in the corner or behind the teacher’s desk.

Lauren’s arms stretched out, trying to feel if there was someone or maybe just navigating her way. A few giggles were heard by her when she did that, and now, all she had to do was know where they stood.

“Clap!” The girl said and everyone clapped. She walked further from Camila while literally every player transported to the brown-eyed girl’s spot.

Now, she was facing the wrong direction, unknowing to the fact that the players were behind her.

The moment Camila checked Lauren’s steady position, she thought of something crazy. Something that she really felt the need to do, now that this game would be the best chance to do it.

So without a second thought, she ran over to the blindfolded girl, and as she got close enough, she placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Lauren was caught by surprise. The girl reached out to know who did that, but was too late. Camila quickly returned to her former spot while the other players were stunned too at the action, then making giggling sounds and fist-bumping with the brunette afterwards.

“Who was that?” Lauren said referring to the one who kissed her. She seemed to pick up the giggling from behind her, so she faced their direction. Many of the players started to scram away quietly while Camila decided to stay until she gets close. Lauren was walking steadily to her direction, getting closer and closer.

Dinah, to her right, tried to get the small girl’s attention by waving her hands, thinking that Camila is crazy for letting the blindfolded girl get to her. Camila just waved Dinah off, reassuring her that she would be fine.

When the green-eyed girl got to a very close proximity with her, Camila closed the distance by placing a chaste kiss on her lips this time.

Everyone made gasping sounds, amused by the scene. Camila, on the other hand, ran away as fast as she could to the other side of the room beside Louis, with her smile so evident and cheeks presenting a tomato colour.

“I swear to god, who are you?!” Lauren asked, almost annoyed, which made the majority laugh.

Watching the blindfolded girl wander around, Louis looked at Camila with a smug expression. The girl picked up on it easily.

“So, you and Jauregui huh?” He said.

Camila just snorted, “In my dreams.” Her hopes to have Lauren to like her, are just way low. The thought of the green-eyed girl falling for someone like her, seemed impossible. Why would she even develop feelings for a lame dork like her?

Camila continued, “Just had to let my feelings out in an anonymous way.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mila.” He replied. “Oh, she’s coming our way!” With that, the British boy got up to his feet and went to another location in the room.

Camila, once again, stayed. One more time, she thought, with a slightly devilish expression – well devilish but cute expression.

She waited for the blindfolded girl to get closer. Lauren’s arms were stretched just in case she reaches one of the players or maybe hit a wall.

But before anyone has ever expected it coming, Camila runs to her, catches her off-guard, and kisses her pinkish lips once again. She was about to break away from the kiss and run away, until Lauren instantly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in closer. She was caught and she can’t escape anymore. But what surprised her was that Lauren stayed put, and indeed, kissed her back. The small brunette couldn’t believe it. Lauren’s lips felt like heaven, so soft and so gentle. She found herself closing her eyes at the sensation the green-eyed girl’s lips brought.

Camila felt her insides exploding, new to the fact that she was sharing a real kiss with the girl she developed feelings for. The sounds and reactions from their classmates were not a care anymore. All she could think about was the amazing girl holding her.

Lauren pulled away for a moment when they were out of breath. She chuckled as she touched the face of the small girl, and rubbed her cheeks with her thumb. “Uhuh, just when you thought you were getting away this time.” She said with huskiness in which Camila would die for just to hear. “Naughty girl.”

The smaller one’s face burned at the last phrase. She was stagnant, not knowing what to say or react.

Dinah, from the other side of the room who was amused watching their scene, said to Lauren. “Well, Jauregui, come and guess who this naughty girl is.”

Lauren, still with a blindfold, smiled widely. Camila’s heartbeat picked up its pace at the sight and at the thought that she may actually know that it was her.

“I don’t need to guess.” Lauren said. “I know who she is.” With that, Camila shared a look with Louis. All the redness from Camila’s face was now gone. She’s done. She’ll never have the audacity to face Lauren anymore.

But Lauren continued, “So Camila Cabello, do you mind if I kiss you for the rest of my life?”

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A/N: wOOH you have made it to the end and have a great life :)

#UPDATE #one shot #AU #camren #laurmani #caminah #normila #norminah #action adventure #humour #romance fluff #submission #BLINDFOLD GUESS WHO

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