#liana scribbles

[lianascribbles]

Professor Layton fandom what a time to be alive

[actiniumwrites]

(scenario, if it’s alright ?) diluc and kaeya with an s/o singing them to sleep :’0 or just softly singing to them for comfort/in general (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) i’ve been listening to rises the moon by liana flores n i can’t help but imagine how soothing n healing it must be for their s/o to sing to them that way hhngghfnsdjnxjsn . . . their chest would swell in affection and look at them with hearts in their eyes while s/o sweetly holds them in their arms n stroke their hair tenderly . . . (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)♡

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

synopsis: in which you sing your restless lover to sleep

characters: kaeya, diluc x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, nightmares, vague mentioning of diluc’s past, i accidentally made diluc’s kinda angsty (sorry)

notes: anon, this is so cute!! i used to be obsessed with rises the moon for such a long time, coincidentally i would also use it to fall asleep sometimes. thank you for the request!

Kaeya:

It was close to two in the morning when you awoke from your sleep suddenly. The room around you was cold and silent, haunted by the evening shadows that enveloped everything around it aside from the gentle candlelight that flickered from the other side of the room.

You laid back down for a few moments, falling aimlessly against the warm sheets below you. Your eyes focused on the white ceiling above you as they shifted between squinting and widening to adjust from just previously being asleep. A quiet sigh fell from your lips as you relaxed for a moment. Instinctively, your hand inched toward the other side of the bed where your boyfriend normally slept. When all you could feel was the cold sheets where he should have been laying, your eyes snapped back open.

Somehow, you hadn’t even noticed his presence had not existed within your bed, but was instead sat in a chair at the desk tirelessly scribbling away at a piece of paper. Originally, you had just assumed the flicker of the candle was due to carelessness on your part. That, perhaps, you had just forgotten to put it out before allowing yourself to fall into a warm slumber for the night. But alas, that was not the case.

Sitting upright, you hung your feet over the bed. You shivered at the touch of the freezing wooden floors when you arose from your spot. Wrapping your hands around your waist in a desperate attempt to keep warm, you quietly walked toward the desk where he was sitting.

You stopped right before him, tenderly placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to peer at what he had been writing. He hardly gave a reaction, but didn’t stop you from gently massaging his shoulders.

“Kaeya,” you softly murmured, not wanting to disturb the silence of the night. His hand rushed to finish one final sentence before he placed the pen against the desk where it should have been the entire time.

“I’m done. I swear,” he assured you, turning around as he stood up. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled you closer to him. Resting your head against his shoulder, you begun to sway back and forth with him.

After a few more wordless seconds together, you pulled back from him but kept his hands in yours, “Come to bed…please.”

Sleep seemed to have been evading Kaeya for the past two weeks. You were well aware it was because of his upcoming expedition and all the hard work and preparation that came alongside it, but that didn’t mean you could excuse the way he was neglecting his health.

He nodded silently, giving into you just as he always did.

When you got into bed, you tucked the covers over the both of you. Scooting closer to him, you propped your arm up a bit so you could lean over him. Brushing his hair softly with your fingers, you whispered to him, “Are you having a hard time sleeping again?”

Kaeya mumbled something softly as he nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch, “Sing to me? Please?”

A tender smile pulled at your lips and a hushed laugh escaped you, “Of course.”

And so, you quietly began to sing him his favorite song. Your voice was quiet and soft, and it was more beautiful than anything he had ever heard in his entire life. It didn’t overtake the rustling of the trees outside the window or the calm crackling of the wick candle you had decided to let burn a little while longer. It had only taken a minute or two before Kaeya had entered a peaceful sleep. Thanks to you, it was the first one he had gotten in weeks.

And when his breath evened and his eyes were firmly shut, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, “Sleep well, love.”

Diluc:

It was the middle of the night when you awoke suddenly, a feeling as though something was wrong shook within your chest. The soft pitter patter of rain made its way to your ears as you glanced at the window next to your side of the bed, thunder following suit in big booms. You almost shook the feeling off all together had it not been for the bright flash of lightning revealing your boyfriend sitting upright in bed, head within his hands.

The room had been so dark, and with the thunder and rain occupying what normally was filled with silence, you hadn’t even noticed him.

“Diluc?” you called out to him hesitantly, not used to him being up at such hours of the night. Not unless he was off doing work as the Dark Knight. When your hand made contact with his shoulder that was left bare by the white tank top he had worn to bed, he jolted softly away from your touch. You pulled your hand away instantly, like you had just been burned.

There was a moment where anxiousness began to boil in your stomach, whispering that you had done something to hurt him. Your eyes darted across his form as they began to adjust to the darkness of the room, starting to give into those worries. Maybe you had said something wrong at dinner? Or maybe he finally had gotten sick of you like you always worried he would?

A gentle sob stole you right from out of your mind before you began spiraling yourself, placing your attention back on him. It was a small action, but one that made you realize just how absurd those possibilities were. Diluc loved you, and had reassured you countless times there was nothing you could do to change that. You felt your heart ache when another sob left his mouth. Instantly, you moved closer to him, placing your hand against his back to rub gentle circles against it. “I’m here, okay? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” you whispered softly, careful to not make things worse, especially when you were unaware of what was going on with him.

Finally, his head raised from his hands and his big ruby eyes met yours, a pool of tears filled within them. His mouth opens and shuts a few times before he just shook his head and fell into your open arms, head against your shoulder and arms slung lazily around your waist. His sobs were barely audible over the rain as he mumbled things about his father, Kaeya, and all the trauma he had built up over the years against your chest. Finally things clicked.

You stared down at him with knowing eyes, a pitiful but comforting look within them. It wasn’t often that nights like those would occur, but they did happen nonetheless. It had been so long since the last one that you forgot about them all together.

He’d told you about them when you first began dating, but it was not a subject Diluc often enjoyed conversing about. Honoring his wishes, you opted to never bring it up unless he did first. His mind would plague itself with nightmares filled with horrid details from the darkest depths of his memories. So dark that he’d wake up in a cold sweat, eyes welled with hot tears, and unable to control his spiral of emotions. The only thing that could reassure him on those nights was you. You were the only thing keeping him from crumbling in on himself from how much he had held in his pain over the years.

Keeping him within your arms, you gently laid backwards until you were leaned up against the frame of the bed you both shared. Diluc shut his eyes tightly, a frown grew deep across his features. An expression you hated to see painted on his face, too beautiful to be tortured by such treacherous emotions.

“Please,” he mumbled out so quietly you almost missed it, “sing to me.”

You nodded with a gentle hum, running your fingers through his hair as you shut your own eyes. A soft melody left your mouth, a song that was well known across Mondstadt that you knew he loved. You didn’t sing loudly at all, but somehow it was enough for Diluc to drown out the sound of the rain and the painful memories flowing within his mind.

Eventually, his arms grew limp around your waist and his breath evened out. Peacefulness took hold of the features that the frown once desperately clung to. The tune that echoes from your mouth sung him carefully to sleep.

You slumped down into the bed next to him, eyes blinking a few times before they shut for the night. And before you could fall asleep, you hugged him tighter, reassuring him of your presence, even in his sleep. Nothing could ever hurt him, not for as long as you were there to protect him.

[mosylufanfic]

I posted 1,056 times in 2022

That's 183 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (5%)

1,001 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 1,051 of my posts in 2022

#search your feelings you know it to be queue - 983 posts

#star wars - 485 posts

#cassian andor - 256 posts

#writing - 176 posts

#jyn erso - 159 posts

#fanfiction - 152 posts

#jane austen - 149 posts

#andor - 147 posts

#recs - 146 posts

#rebelcaptain - 133 posts

Longest Tag: 112 characters

#but i do love that they're still themselves and love isn't easy just because you've been doing it for a lifetime

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

By Any Other Name

Because I’m basically obligated to do a rock star AU at some point, right?

Send me a prompt for Nano!

By Any Other Name

Jyn liked this time of day in the Kyber, the grubby little bar she co-owned with her best friend. Early afternoon was a dip where the hardcore drinkers and the lunch crowd had all cleared out or been cut off, and the after-work crowd wasn't in yet. She used the time to catch up on paperwork and put on her favorite music. 

"You like this song?"

The voice came from the end of the bar, where their one customer of the moment was drinking a draft beer and scribbling on what looked like staff paper. A starving songwriter, she concluded, a dime a dozen in LA. 

"It's all right," she said, because it had only taken her the first shift as a bartender to realize that some guys would take a statement as innocuous as "this is my favorite song right now" and translate it to "please, take my body at your earliest convenience."

"It's just, you're singing along."

Had she been? Damn. Bodhi referred to her singing voice as the unholy love child of a rusty gate and a cat in heat. "Sorry."

He laughed. "No, it's fine." He had a nice smile, wide and bright, with dimples. Cute.

Also a dime a dozen in LA.

She shrugged and hit the buttons on her laptop to save her most current schedule. "It's catchy," she said. "I guess I do sing along when it comes on the radio."

The song ended and another began, with no deejays jabbering in between. And it was the next song on the artist's newest album. 

He raised a brow.

"Fine! The whole album's on my favorite playlist at the moment. It's good. All right? That what you wanted to know?"

He lifted both hands in a peaceable gesture, laughing again. "I’m not trying to interrogate you. That's just my favorite song from the album. The one you were singing along to."

“Yeah? Even though it's not the one that's the big hit or whatever?”

"That one's good too," he acknowledged. "But 'Built on Hope' is just - I like it better."

"Yeah."

He held out a hand. "Joreth."

She shook it briefly. "Liana," she said, giving him the name she went by behind the bar, to deter creepers and scammers. 

"Liana, that's pretty. What is that, a flower?"

"It's a sort of vine," she said - also her usual answer. "A strangling vine. It kills trees."

He laughed. "Killed any trees today?"

"Sadly, no, but the day is young."

At the other end of the bar, Bodhi cleared his throat, loudly. She glanced at him, saw he was doing the bottle count, and figured he'd just had a frog in his throat. 

"He's playing tonight, you know," Joreth said, pointing upward at the speaker. "Cassian Andor."

"Yeah, I heard. I've got to work. Plus tickets are an arm and a leg."

"Surely no more than a hand."

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88 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#4

Hello! I really enjoyed reading some of your fanfics yesterday and I got a prompt for you! Rebelcaptain on a mission, pre relationship but already with feelings for one another, having to kiss to keep up their cover - Maybe just maybe the rest of rogue one has asked draven to send rebelcaptain on a mission as couple as they were getting increasingly frustrated with them. If it's not your thing, don't mind ignoring it and all the best for the rest of nano! you rock!

*skids into the last day of November with a giant donut* DID SOMEONE SAY FAKE DATING 

Dating for Beginners

It was Bodhi's idea. Jyn was pretty sure that was the problem right there.

"A date?" she said, baffled. "Me? And Cassian?"

"Not really a date because you're going to be doing - " He fluttered his fingers. "Spy things. Casing the joint. Taking the lay of the land. Tasting the wind."

"We don't say any of those things," Cassian said. 

"Okay, whatever you're doing, you need a cover, and that's an easy cover."

"Right," Jyn said, "but I've never really gone on a date. Not a lot of dating going on with the Partisans - " A decent amount of furtive fumbling, but no dates. "And after that, my life didn't lend itself to dating, exactly." She looked over. "Cassian?"

He shrugged. "Closest I ever got to a date as a teenager was climbing over the back wall of my girlfriend's dad's shop and making out with her until he chased me off with a blaster."

Jyn felt her brows shoot practically off her face. Given the guess, she never would have pegged Cassian Andor, of all people, to be the kind of teenager a parent had to chase off with a blaster. More like the boy who turned up at the front door, hair combed, calling his girlfriend's parents "sir" or "ma'am" and promising to treat her respectfully and get her home before her curfew.

Bodhi looked equally befuddled. "I have questions."

"Continue having them," Cassian suggested, going back to reading the mission brief. 

Jyn was still stuck on his old girlfriend, and how after he'd gotten her out the door, then there would be making out. Highly disrespectful making out. 

Oh shit. She was thinking way too much about Cassian and making out right now. Was she blushing?

"Well, whatever," she said briskly. "It's like Bodhi says. An easy cover. How hard can it be?"

-

"You could at least hold my hand," Cassian muttered in her ear, and she jumped about a foot. 

They were sitting on the tram into the city, hip to hip, dressed like a young couple out on a date. She hoped. What was that supposed to look like, anyway?

He laid his hand on his knee, palm up, as if waiting for her to slot hers into it. 

"How about this?" she asked, and picked up his hand instead, using it to swing his whole arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah," he said quietly, after a blink of surprise. "That's - that's good."

"Good," she said. She still held his hand, their fingers woven together. His arm was heavy over her shoulders, but in a solid, grounding way. She found herself settling into his side. 

She turned her head to ask him which stop they were getting off at, and found him looking at her already. 

His eyes were so dark. She knew that already, but looking at them from this close up, they were so dark. Secrets upon secrets.

She looked away, feeling her face heat. Nice. Very nice. Blushing. That ought to sell the bit. Never mind there was hardly anybody to sell it to on this tram. Good to get the practice in. 

A whisper of breath ghosted across her cheek, and she shivered. He murmured, "We'll want to get off at the city center stop."

It probably looked like he was whispering sweet nothings. She turned her head as far as she could and murmured back, "Yeah, all right."

He kept his arm around her shoulders, or maybe she kept it there. She didn't know. 

They strolled down the street, giggly and touchy, a couple of slightly drunk tourists, swaying every so often. He kept whispering in her ear, setting all her nerve endings alight like burning steel wool. 

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111 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

#3

Coping Mechanisms

Who knows if this is how Cassian actually going to cope with his time in prison? But I wrote it anyway.

Send me a prompt for NaNo!

Coping Mechanisms

"Ugggghhhh," Jyn groaned, flapping her shirt over her sweaty stomach. "Are they trying to roast us alive?"

They were going into their third day of this glitch in the transport's environmental systems as they hid out from the Empire after their scrambling departure from Hoth. It wasn't meant to have people living on it for more than a few days. It felt like the jungles of Yavin, but without the green. Everyone was wearing the minimum of clothes for public decency. Fans and portable chillers were at a premium. 

"Maintenance is working on it," Cassian murmured absently, swiping through something on his datapad. 

"No," she said. "It's clearly an Imperial plot."

He turned amused eyes her way. "Is it?"

"Yeah. There's some Imperial spy in the environmental controls, fucking it up for all of us. Ruining morale." She pointed at him. "You need to hunt them down and push them out the airlock."

"Too hot," he said, using his arm to wipe the sweat away from his hairline. "You do it."

"Too hot," she said, scraping her sweat-sticky hair off her face. "Guess the Empire wins today."

"Ah well."

She flapped her shirt again, then gave in and peeled it all the way off, leaving her in just a pair of Cassian's boxers and her bra. He'd certainly seen her in less. She lay down again, but the blanket was hot against her back. She grumbled and sat up, crossing her legs.

She wiggled her bare toes, then considered Cassian. He was entirely shirtless, also wearing only a pair of boxers, and  - "You know, you might be cooler if you weren't wearing shoes. And socks."

He shrugged.

"No, I mean it. The floor's actually a little cool." She put her feet down on the deck, splaying her toes against the metal. "I mean, comparatively. Lots of people are going around barefoot, if they can."

"Foot fungus," he said, absently, swiping through to another page. "Half the troops have it and the other half are going to get it."

She made a face and immediately decided to stop going barefoot in the corridors. "What about in here? It's just us. I don't have foot fungus."

He shrugged again. "I'm fine."

-

Someone had found the means to construct thin, cheap-looking sandals - plastic soles and twisted fabric straps to hold them on. They made a killing. Jyn had just enough money on her after the sabacc game to buy two sets, one for her and one for Cassian.

They weren't the most comfortable things. To be honest, they were just this side of going barefoot. But they were far better in the heat than shoes and socks. 

Cassian said, "Thanks, but my shoes are more secure on the deck."

Baffled, Jyn sold them again, at a fifty percent markup because she wasn't dumb.

-

Even after the glitch was fixed and the environment returned to normal, Jyn kept noticing how Cassian refused to ever go barefoot, or even close to barefoot.

He wore shoes as much as possible and socks at all times. Changing was a process of kicking off shoes, stripping off the old socks, putting on new ones, and then taking off the rest of his clothes. 

He didn't wear them in the shower, but he took them off last and put them on first. He also didn't wear them in bed, but he peeled them off last thing before climbing in, and put them on the moment he sat up. 

She'd thought it was a holdover from living on Hoth. There, they'd worn all the layers they could, as much as they could. But once she started really paying attention, she realized this was more than that. 

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121 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

#2

Cassian, Andor, and Community

So I want to talk about a Cassian headcanon that I’ve been holding since the movie came out: the romantic, melancholy idea of the solitary spy, who walks alone except for his seven-foot-tall snarkmaster droid friend, until Jyn Erso comes along.

Which I’m starting to think is 100% wrong.

In the first three episodes of Andor, we’ve seen the two communities where he spent his childhood and young adulthood. We’ve also seen that Cassian is unquestionably a part of those communities, not someone standing outside them in lonely solitude.

On Kenari, it’s a tiny band of what seems to be mostly teens and children, living in the forest on a lakeshore. This is a situation where there’s no such thing as a solitary survivalist. You have to depend on each other to survive. Yes, Kassa stops to look at the pit mine where, presumably, his parents and all the other adults died in the mining disaster. Yes, he stays behind to explore the downed ship. So you could go “okay, this is little Kassa striking out on his own as he always will.”

However, if you wind back a little, he doesn’t go off on his own to investigate the downed ship, but instead worms his way into the circle of bigger kids setting off, saying “me too, I’m here too, I’m old enough.” He is trying to establish himself as one of the group that explores when there are older, stronger kids hanging back. And when one of the oldest boys tries to stop him, he waits until the girl in charge steps in for him.

Even while he’s pushing to create a place for himself, he understands clearly how his little society works, who’s in charge, who says go and who says stay. He knows this isn’t his call, not in the place he currently occupies in their power structure.

And he also has a little sister that he takes care of and stops to reassure even as he’s rushing off to join the bigger kids. He isn’t a solitary kid. He’s connected to this community.

Let’s move to Ferrix.

This is a bigger but no less insular community, and he is no longer an skinny boy but a young man firmly rooted among his peers. He knows everybody and has for the past eleven years, and they know him. He knows that Brasso will back him up on the ridiculous, overly-convoluted lie he spins, knows it so well that he doesn’t say, “what if you say this” or “tell them this.” In a piece of glorious writing, he tells the lie as Brasso is going to say it.

When Nurchi tries to intimidate him, he knows exactly the buttons to push (”Vetch? Are you that hard up for money you’re working for this guy?”) to slide out of it without more than an exasperated look from Nurchi. He knows what to say to charm the guard at the shipyard, who is also exasperated (”this is the last time, I mean it”) but how many times has there been a “last time” before?

He knows Bix is like 99% done with his nonsense but there’s still that one percent that means she might be able to find him a buyer. (Of course, he doesn’t seem to know or care that Bix has Rebellion contacts, may even be a Rebel herself, but that’s a meta for another time.)

Again, he understands how the people around him work, and he’s shifted from finding his own place in that structure to using his established place as a base from which lever others.

“But mosy,” you say, “what about the movie? Surely the Cassian we see in the movie is a lonely, lonely spy who trusts and depends on nobody but himself and also his seven-foot-tall snarkmaster droid friend?”

The movie, right, the movie.

I could talk about Tivik, or Jedha, or Draven, and how all those moments and scenes depend on relationships with others. But actually I want to talk about the moment in the Yavin hangar when he turns up with enough manpower to run a mission to Scarif.

Jyn was coming out of the Council meeting, which Cassian either skipped altogether or ducked out of. Allowing for as much arguing back and forth as Jyn probably could have stood for, let’s say a couple of hours.

In that time, Cassian was able to gather up a squad of people who not only have the skills that Jyn needs for the mission to Scarif, but also are of the mindset that would take on a unsanctioned rogue almost-certainly suicide mission. It’s a big base, and it’s not like Cassian could have sent out a space email blast. He had to find all these people quickly and quietly.

Which means he had them in mind already. He knew who was getting frustrated with the Council’s inaction, he knew who had the skills they needed, he knew who would agree to this.

Sure, maybe a few of them tapped a friend. Could be some of them were listening in on the disastrous Council meeting. But most of them came on board because Cassian asked. Because it was Cassian doing the asking.

He’s part of this community too, the community of the Rebellion and of the particularly dirty-handed section of assassins, saboteurs, and spies that he gathers up and presents to Jyn as her squad. And once again, for the last time, he used his place within that community to get what he needed.

Now. This is all based on the movie and on the first three episodes of the show. The rest of this season and next could render all this so much hot air on the internet. But . . . 

Don’t you want to be part of something?

Cassian Andor does, and he is.

174 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

5 times Melshi and Cassian talked about Jyn Erso (and one time they didn't have to)

Canon compliant you guys - or at least, it doesn’t directly contradict canon. Whatever you choose to think at the end is up to you.

5 times Melshi and Cassian talked about Jyn Erso (and one time they didn't have to)

1. Before Wobani

Ruescott Melshi was on his way down the hall when a familiar form caught his eye. 

"Keef," he called out. "Briefing's this way."

Cassian didn't even roll his eyes at the fake name, the one Melshi had known him by on Narkina 5 and still used to tease him. "Change of plans."

"Is the mission off?"

"No, it's on. We need this woman. But I'm not going."

They'd been planning this breakout for a week now. "What's up?"

"I have to meet one of my contacts. He's getting - squirelly. But I'll send Kay with you."

"All right," he said. Infiltrations and exfiltrations were his specialty. Cassian was coming because he needed the woman for something important. But he'd never been an intrinsic part of the plan. Kay, yes, Cassian not so much, even if they generally came as a matched set. "I'll bring her back. No problem."

"Good. Ah, listen - I've read her arrest records. Don't underestimate her."

"Because she's in Wobani? You and I both know how people end up in places like that. I'm not worried." He considered. "Maybe I am. She might get a look at this face and fall in love with me."

It coaxed a crook of his lips, a huff of a laugh. Cassian had never been a particularly jolly guy. But lately he'd been getting tired, drained-looking. The spark of rage that burned in his eyes was getting dimmer and dimmer.

Melshi had seen the same in his fellow operatives over the years, usually just before they burned out, either quietly or spectacularly. Worry wormed in his stomach as he watched his friend walk away. 

2. On the Way Back

Melshi cursed long and fluently as the medic fixed his nose. "Crazy fucking woman."

The crazy fucking woman in question was in restraints at the back of the troop transport. They hadn't planned on it, so they were the decoy restraints that they'd used when stopping the Wobani transport, hastily reprogrammed to actually work. She sneered at him. 

"I told you I was getting you out," he said. 

"I don't know you," she snapped back. "Why should you do anything for me?"

"Good question," he muttered. 

"Melshi," one of his team called out. "Captain on the comm."

Cassian frowned at him through the comm screen. The bruises were probably coming in, dark and nasty, visible even through the bluish distortion of the screen. "Trouble?"

"Yeah, from that nutjob you wanted me to pick up."

Cassian's brows rose.

"She hit me in the face with a shovel."

"I told you not to underestimate her. Did you let her know we were getting her out?"

"Yeah, and then she hit me in the face with a shovel!"

His lips quirked. "I guess you're safe from her falling in love with you."

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179 notes - Posted November 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[stars-over-ice-cream]

☆ all coquettish in the pictures with the flash on ☆

welcome to my blog, it's been waiting for you!

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music chappell roan, clairo, olivia rodrigo, bo burnham, conan gray, phoebe bridgers, girl in red, liana flores, cults, lizzy mcalpine, boygenius, lucy dacus, julien baker, arctic monkeys, pritam, genevieve stokes, mac demarco, arijit singh, sabrina carpenter, maisie peters, taylor swift, lyn lapid, paramore, laufey, gracie abrams, renee rapp, billie eilish, xana

albums the tortured poets department, punisher, found heaven, speak now, superache, guts, reputation, kid krow, sour, melodrama, emails i can't send, AM, sunset season, pure heroine, inside, good riddance, the rise and fall of a midwest princess, tantrums, school nights, the record, fruitcake, folklore, born to die, riot!, the good witch

books wuthering heights, red white and royal blue, heartstopper, i was born for this, the hate you give, percy jackson, heroes of olympus, little women, the hunger games trilogy, solitaire, radio silence, loveless, one of us is lying, nick and charlie, all the bad apples (please please read it dear god), the fault in our stars

characters tori spring, nico di angelo, keith kogane, twilight, michael holden, peeta mellark, alex claremont-diaz, catherine linton, jo march, sylvia sherwood, georgia warr, hazel grace, damian desmond, charlie spring, percy jackson, nate macauley, bronwyn rojas, lance mcclain

fandoms (including all of the above) voltron, spy x family, dune, some star wars but not much tbh, osemanverse, she-ra and the princesses of power, kipo and the wonderbeasts, hamilton, dear evan hansen, heathers

dni fuck around and find out, you know the drill

tags #nem's rambles -> usual shitposting

#red book tag -> my pathetic pining for a certain someone irl

#nem's scribbles -> fanfic

and that's it! remember to drink water and sleep, love you <3

☆ she's kinda fucked up, but she's still in vogue ☆

[bbillkins]

Through The Window Through The Mirror

Pairing(s): None, Oh-Aew x Hoon, Teh x Q if you squint Genres: self reflection, wedding, yearning, in love with best friend Warnings: adult humour, swearing, suggestive content, smoking/juuling Rating: 16+ Wc: 5.5k

“No one answer the phone! Only Teh answers the phone” Ma Sui shouted out from another room in the house above the ringing.

“Ma, I already said they would email or call my cell—“ Teh hollered back, picking up the phone from its base and putting it to his ear “Hello?”

It was the florist—let me correct that; it was one of the florists. Clutching the phone between his shoulder and his ear Teh took down his wedding planner from a dark wooden shelf that sat near the phone. The printed silk cover adorned with a liana and hibiscus border stared up at him, he didn’t pause to absent-mindedly stroke one of the names printed on the fabric as he often did. Listening to the florist's complaints he frowned, “No, we need clivia for the rehearsal dinner—yes—there will be people to help…Yes, it is on an island further off of Phuket. Yep, exactly…Great—and when are the lilies and crane flowers coming in for the brunch on Sunday?”

He made notes; messy scribbles on the page marking down expected arrival times next to the vendor’s name in the wedding planner. One of the people sitting at the table in the room got up from his chair, Teh could just glimpse them out of the corner of his eye: he paid them no heed, focusing on the voice at the other end of the line. The warmth of another form pressed against him for a moment, he felt a hand brush his waist and an ardent kiss pressed to his cheek.

“I love you,” Oh-aew hummed to his childhood best friend, the grin on his comely mouth could be heard in his words.

He lithely floated through the house as though he were an enchanting sprite, touching the panoply that nestled in its place on shelves and countertops, undoubtedly in Teh’s mind increasing the object’s value to have been touched by Oh-aew’s divine fingers. The willowy groom-to-be looked and behaved as though this were already his home, in spite of the fact that he had never lived here and never would. But old habits were difficult to curb, and Oh-aew had been part of and treated as one of the family in this house long before he was set to legally become a member of said family. Years of playdates and sleepovers with Teh through their childhood and teen years had blossomed into Oh-aew loitering in their manse during school holidays to catch a glimpse of Teh’s older, more attractive brother.

Hoon sat at their sturdy wooden table that shined from where Teh had waxed it the week before at Ma Sui’s instruction; he was reading the paper that his mother had left there, its pages crinkled from where it had gotten damp this morning before being brought inside. Teacups were scattered on the table from where the family had sat around having tea: Hoon had just gotten off from work and Oh-aew was waiting for him at the Saetan house to greet him before Aew was due in at work. Hoon’s lightly gelled obsidian-coloured hair was perfectly styled as always, his facial hair trim and precise (“Just as I like it,” Oh-aew would declare) as he fondly glanced up from the paper at his fiancé’s voice.

With a nearly imperceptible motion, Teh shifted his left shoulder further towards the side table and shelves in front of him as he felt Oh-aew preparing to leave.

“You’re so lucky, my darling; I’ve got no siblings to help with all this dreaded planning,” Aew pouted to his fiancé.

“What do you mean? You’ve got Teh and Q wrapped around your fingers and planning this whole weekend! Teh’s my brother and I practically have to ask you if I can borrow him,” the older man’s chastisements were coquettish and melodic.

“Rightly so! He’s been my best friend for nearly fifteen years, but I have to hand him over to you as your best man simply because the two of you share half of your DNA— And that damn Q, some best man he is; three days before my wedding and he still hasn’t flown in from Bangkok.” Aew huffed in return. Teh heard them kiss.

“Okay, I’m off—I’ll call you about dinner tonight. Oh! And, Teh, don’t forget about the tent tomorrow at the resort—Hoon and I are working, but Mom is there and I’ll try to be home as early as possible.”

Teh nodded in acknowledgment and waved his best friend off, still jotting down floral arrangement notes from his phone call as he heard the other two exchange ‘I love yous’ and ‘goodbyes’. After hanging up the phone he closed the wedding planner, this time hesitating a little longer to gaze at the names printed on its cover: Hoon & Oh-Aew. It felt surreal. Looking back on the last fifteen years: late childhood, adolescence, the Great Conundrum that was the better part of a half-decade journey realizing that he was A) madly in love with his best friend, and B) not as straight as he’d originally surmised. Retrospectively, the matter was almost farcical. He knew something was a bit up as he’d enviously watched Oh-aew flirt with his school crush (admittedly, a short-lived one), Bas; whom Teh had even gone so far as to spur his friend towards. And then he had briefly basked in the glory of Aew’s hanging around all the time when they were on uni breaks; not realizing at first that Teh was only partly the draw—the main attraction at his house at that time (and, realistically all times since) being Teh’s older brother, Hoon. How silly; to think you’re the main event only to discover you are the side-show.

But even before that, the dreams came. In them men he didn’t know would be gazing at his lips, and in his all-knowing dream state he understood that they wanted to kiss him, ’You can kiss me if you’d like,’ he would tell them. Afterward, upon waking he would come up with the most ludicrous reasonings as to why he would offer himself to be kissed by another man. Another time he dreamt that he had been in a room of beautiful people and making eyes at this one guy whom Teh would try and follow to a secluded place…but his dream was disorganized and he could never find the guy again. He also did have dreams about girls, which, if anything only added fuel to his burning pyre of confusion. He didn’t know anyone who has openly bisexual at the time, and media portrayals frequently avoided the usage of the term. The final nail in the coffin was dreaming that he was slow dancing with Oh-aew, but a strange slow dance: more like foreplay. As they cascaded around to the music they pressed their bodies up close to one another, creating heat and friction, they kissed and dream Teh grasped at dream Oh-aew’s chest—but they still danced to the music, upright and their feet never stalling: an agreement from some higher dream god that sex could not occur until the never-ending song was finished—hurrah! the song was complete and now things were really picking up— His alarm clock had gone off…among other things, and Teh had plucked himself up from his bed with a ”Well…that was weird,”, but silently hoping that someday he got to the end of that, particular, dream.

He remembered it lucidly; Oh-aew had come to him in the strictest confidence: ”I’m in love with Hoon,” Teh…had an out of body experience that day. Now, he had never done hard drugs, but if this was anything akin to what heroin was like then Teh swore to never touch the stuff. He remembered not a single action of his own that day, his mind and soul off, floating about morosely in the firmament. ”I hadn’t really thought about it much before, you know…but then when we were going out to celebrate going off to university—and he was out in the restaurant when Bas and I dropped by to pick you up…it’s like I saw him with fresh eyes. Suddenly he was right there.”

For a couple of years…Oh-aew did have to endure Hoon being ’suddenly right there’ with a girlfriend; a strange time for all as Oh-aew pined for Hoon, and Teh for Oh-aew. The younger brother assured himself that his friend would eventually outgrow his infatuation with the older sibling. He watched Reply 1997 over and over again; Seo In-Guk had a happy ending here—it didn’t have to be the “Please Don’t…” story for Teh, either.

Oh-aew and Hoon hadn’t started dating until after Aew had finished university and begun working in advertising at the Phuket Tourism Department, and Teh would have to admit that despite being friends with one and related to the other he didn’t know the exact logistics of their getting together. His childhood friend, and secret love, video called him to say that he and Hoon had dinner three times that week!! And that Hoon had asked Oh-aew out to dinner already for the next week. If the floor in Teh’s dingy little apartment had all fallen out from beneath his feet he would have been less perplexed. He was also gripped with fear remembering the only person he had ever told about his feelings for Aew was Hoon. The call was short, but Teh hung on for as long as he possibly could to listen to Aew’s delighted ravings. ”What’s wrong? You look sick?” came his best friend’s voice. ”Yeah…I’m not feeling too well,” he shrugged, trying to brush off the fact that he was now anxiously sweating as his bowels and stomach did an antithetical jig.

It had been strange; seeing Hoon and Oh-aew holding hands…sharing long and fond gazes. A rollercoaster ride when he’d seen them first kiss. It was strange because it made him hurt, but it also made him so happy to see them so happy. He was home for a few days between theatre performances after the couple had been together for a few years. And in their childhood bedroom, Hoon confided to Teh that he wanted to propose to Oh-aew.

Not even a week later Oh-aew had video called Teh, frantic: ”Teh, I know it’s not cool of me to put you in this position but your brother has been acting really secretive this past week…and I just have to know if he said anything to you while you were home about proposing—“ Teh had fallen for the bait, or come to the duel unprepared—he was unsure which, but his face must have betrayed his older brother’s confidence because he heard Oh-aew’s squeal ”—AHA; I knew it! Oh my god, you’re such a terrible actor! I love you so fucking much Teh; you’re the best friend and the worst little brother—I’m gonna get maRRied! Ahhhh—“ Aew blew Teh some kisses and hung up.

As Teh stood there with the wedding planner, he admitted that things had not exactly gone as he had ever fantasized. No, Aew had not had an epiphany and suddenly realized he loved the wrong brother. No, he wasn’t exactly a big star in terms of acting but a steady stream of…frankly abysmal roles kept food on his table and a roof over his head. He checked his phone, hoping that he would get this callback. It had been the first decent project he had been recommended for and scored an audition at in ages. He needed to manifest a good omen.

____________________

Teh awoke at first daylight, its glare meekly filtering through windows as he rolled over and away from them. Gazing upon his brother’s bed, he felt strange; tonight would be the last night Hoon was to sleep in this room (as at this moment Hoon was likely sleeping soundly next to his husband-to-be in Oh-aew’s comparatively grand four-poster bed at the resort), and to occupy this house. He looked about the room, and it was as if the sun sensed his actions and so rose further to broaden his vision, and he felt bad for the room: when Hoon had moved out for university Teh had occupied it in his absence, and when Teh had moved out Hoon had lived here in his stead. Now the room was to be vacant, an unnecessary thing. He could empathize, but it occurred to him that the room might wish to be superfluous; a weight off of its proverbial shoulders. As he began his diurnal rituals he lost track of himself staring in the mirror—not at himself as he found he looked the same as he had yesterday, but at the reflection of an open window. What might be through that window if traversing the barrier of the looking-glass were possible. His phone buzzed.

~Q: We’re at the airport, see you in a couple of hours~

He did not bother responding to the other best man, instead checking his email as was customary every morning; finding no emails relating to any upcoming work offers but a few wedding related correspondences. He checked to see that the flowers had arrived for tonight’s dinner party, and skimmed through an email from Hoon’s friends who had agreed to plan his brother’s stag party as Teh already had his hands full with other wedding commitments. At least he didn’t have to worry about the venue, as Oh-aew’s parents wanted their only child’s wedding to be supreme, and so were going above and beyond for preparations. Anxiously he reviewed his itinerary for the day, which included ‘finish assorting guest favours and drop off at all guest accommodations’, ‘pick up OA uni friends’, ‘pick up rental car’, ‘confirm dinner orders for Friday’, and ‘book car service pick-up for band at airport Saturday morn.’.

The hallway, living room, and every other available surface was covered with the guest favour bags; each stamped with a custom stamp that stated each groom’s name and the date of their nuptials. He had stayed up late last night to finish them, so the first thing today would be picking up the rental car so he could even begin to transport all of the bags. Pulling up outside of the airport two hours later he had already made two deliveries around the town, despite being a precarious car driver. Oh-aew’s group of friends clambered inside the vehicle after depositing their designer luggage in the trunk; a cloud of perfume following them wherever they went. For half a second he thought to feel out of place in their presence, understanding that he was of a different ilk in the casual clothes and loud-print top he had thrown on that morning, half of a power bar shoved into his mouth to make up for the breakfast he had refused from his mother this morning already.

“You ready?” Q slapped Teh’s thigh, almost causing him to jump “This is going to be a long weekend,” for us.

The best men; Oh-aew’s best friends, confidants, and ever ardent admirers shared a knowing glance in the front seats.

Au popped in his head betwixt them, “What’s the big deal for you two? Party like hell in Patong tonight with Aew, speeches tomorrow during the reception—boom—you’re done; ready to kick back and get shit-faced.”

“You could be a poet,” Q dryly retorted, pushing his friend back into his seat.

“Remember Teh is organizing everything since the wedding planner quit,” Plug chastised Au from the very back of the vehicle. Teh could barely see him in his rearview mirror because of the large parcel he had refused to part with which sat on his lap.

“Man, I mean…I love Aew and all, but that is not something I would sign up for,” Pong stated from beside his boyfriend.

“It’s fine; I’m happy to do it,” Teh brushed off, smiling as though it didn’t pain him, waving his hand. He dropped them off at the pier, trusting that they would catch the next boat and soon be in Oh-aew’s ecstatic grip.

______________________

“Teh! We’re going to be late for my own rehearsal dinner,” Hoon called up the stairs.

“Sorry, coming!” With one last look in the mirror he tried to arrange a strand of hair that kept falling into his eyes—it flopped back—he gave up, giving a frustrated blow of air; now the strand stayed, admittedly at a contrary angle to the rest, but he accepted it. It was a plain suit that he wore part of; leaving the jacket hanging in his closet, he checked the tuck of his shirt and if he had buttoned it evenly.

The dinner was an intimate and joyous communion between the families. Aew and Hoon glowed, feeding each other morsels from their plates as they chatted with each’s parents. Aew caught Teh’s eyes when he rested his head on his fiancé’s shoulder, he blithely grinned at his friend. It wasn’t until the two groups were parting outside the restaurant: each groom heading out to his own party that was sure to extend into the wee hours of the next morn; Hoon’s friends were already waiting for him, Q and Aew were ready to join their group as they would head to Patong—when Oh-aew called out to Teh. Teh was not facing anyone else; he was turned and lost in thought as he stared down the festively lit quiet street. He had spent dinner talking little and eating less.

“Mmm,” he turned to Aew, who had his hand outstretched as if to beckon him.

“Come here,” and when he did, Oh-aew enveloped him in a hug; after all these years he still smelled of coconut, and for this Teh was grateful. His friend’s aroma had remained unchanged, much like his love. “Are you alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah, just a bit tired,” Teh confessed, not ready to let the other go but Aew made no move to release him either. “I hope Hoon isn’t going to require a lot of primping from me tonight or tomorrow,”

Aew chuckled into Teh’s shoulder, “I think Hoon can do his own primping,” For a moment it felt as though he were going to pull away, but then he remembered he had something more to say: “I wish I could have you for the night, Teh, part of me can’t believe that I’m spending the night before my wedding without my first best friend.”

Q was standing next to them and could overhear them, Teh blinked away the tears that threatened to fall and smiled at Q. “You’re in good hands,” he told Oh-aew.

“Teh, do you know what happens after tomorrow?” Teh could feel Oh’s chest swell as he spoke.

“You only have to fill out one tax return for two people,” he dryly commented.

“You and I become family—officially brothers,” the groom beamed.

Another thing Teh had never fantasized.

____________________________

Dreaded, cursed day. It was stunning, the weather was gorgeous, the sea gleamed spectacularly as though in approbation of the blessed event. Teh had spent the morning running around with a checklist to make sure that everything was as it was supposed to be. Oh-aew’s mother had managed to drag him away from where the florists were arranging the wedding arch, and Teh himself had been compulsively rearranging the orchids among the aisles where guests were to sit. She instructed him to have a little break, a nap, some food, anything; and when he’d protested she’d insisted. Briefly, as he was slipping in and out of sleep on a couch up at the main house he wondered if his mother had said something to Oh-aew’s about Teh’s late nights and early mornings this past week. Truthfully, he had been having trouble sleeping; once dreaming that a terrible cold snap had engulfed the country and frozen all the flowers that were being used by the florists, another time he dreamt that his suit didn’t fit at all and he’d be forced to attend the wedding as a groomsman in his high school uniform. That one still struck him as odd; it implied that he had no other even marginally more suitable clothes to wear to a wedding…nevertheless he had checked his closet multiple times a day to confirm that his suit was still there, and tried it on for good measure.

When Teh awoke, after dozing for likely not more than an hour, Oh-aew was sitting on the couch opposite him. His slim legs curled beneath him and still adorned in his pajamas, he looked up from his phone when he saw Teh stirring. He smiled at his sleepy former playmate, Plug padded in with a tray of coffee—the rest of the Patong-party-group remained slumbering or lounging in their beds. No one said anything, in case Teh should wish to sleep again, and they basked in the quiet content of each other’s company, enjoying what would likely be the most tranquil moments that day had to offer. After a while Teh wordlessly rose, fluffing up the couch cushions to their usual, un-squished state, and folding the blanket someone must have laid on top of him.

“How are you feeling?” Teh asked the groom.

Oh-aew looked up at him, cheekily smiling as he stretched his arms well above his head, his movements almost feline. “Good…excited,” he nodded, his smile grew as he brought a hand down to rub his abdomen, “My tummy is fluttering, but that might be from the coffee.”

Walking back out the pier, Teh squinted in the sunlight before bringing his hand above his eyes to shield them from the harsh light. He had to return home to assist the other groom in his preparations; Q and the rest of Oh-aew’s uni friends were helping the younger of the grooms. Teh doubted he could be of much service to his brother; Hoon had always been a much more fastidious groomer, whereas the younger sibling just stuck to bathing and shaving. Teh doubted the classes he had taken for stage hair-and-makeup would be of any use on a day such as this; he chuckled to himself as he imagined returning home to his elder brother needing help applying his wig or needing his eyebrows glued down. His assumptions were correct, and Hoon proved himself to be quite self-sufficient; and upon his inspection Teh found his brother to be wholly immaculate.

From head to heels, and even more particularly in demeanour, Hoon was the perfect man for Oh-aew. They were both intuitive and collected, Hoon staid on the surface and Oh audacious.

“Thank you,” Hoon broke the silence in the room.

“For what?”

Hoon hesitated, thinking and then nodded ever so slightly, almost as if to himself—“For everything—not just today or the last few months with the wedding stuff, but for all these years. You were so supportive of both Oh and me, both as a couple and as individuals, and I know it has to feel a bit strange to you but your actions have affirmed to me that you're just as capable and wonderful as I’ve always known you could be. I just wish you’d start seeing it in yourself, too.”

Teh felt his composure crack, just a hairline fracture, but he nodded in assent as he wiped the twin tears that had begun their downward migration over his bronzed cheeks. The older man bumped his little brother as if he was teasing him for becoming emotional, but engulfed him in a tight hug directly after. His brother’s affectionate actions made the task of staying his tears even more laborious. Teh had promised himself that if he was to break down today it would be at the end of the night when he found himself alone in his childhood bedroom. Swallowing the lump, reminding himself he still had to get through the ceremony and reception, Teh and his brother parted with a final nod, turning and beginning their long wedding procession to the Cape Panwa Hotel.

_________________________

~Oh-aew 🍧: miss you~

Was the text he received when he was standing there with Hoon and the rest of his groomsmen, waiting to get the go-ahead from someone that the ceremony could begin. Attached was a photo of Aew and his friends in his bedroom, all styled and dressed with champagne glasses raised in a toast. Teh could only focus on Oh-aew; he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket yet and his collarbone peeked out from his billowy and translucent lace blouse, his nose was scrunched as he grinned and stuck his tongue out ever so slightly from between his teeth. The end of an era; and he wouldn’t even get to be at Aew’s side for it. For within the half-hour he would be losing Oh-aew as a fantasy lover, a moon that you stretch your mortal hands to so assured that if you just reached out a little bit further it could be in your grasp. They would be brothers-in-law; a daily reminder to Teh that he had never made a valiant effort to lasso the moon.

The grooms wore ivory coloured suits, Hoon with his stiff collared shirt and Aew in languid lace that seeped out the edges of his jacket; Teh and Q wore matching apricot suits while the rest of the wedding party was dressed in tan. From where Teh stood he could see Oh-aew perfectly; how the late afternoon sun reflected off his radiant and shimming cheekbones, and the warm breeze tousled his already style-tousled tresses. His plump, glazed lips moved but Teh did not hear a word they uttered; Aew’s eyes shone with adoration, reiterating each pledge he made to the man before him, a pulchritudinous glimmer as the ring was slid onto his finger…

There was clapping; a hurrah as the newlywed husbands kissed. Teh clapped so hard his palms felt numb, Q did a small and rather awkward applause, made onerous by the bouquet of orchids and ranunculus he held. A vague remembrance of being pulled along with a crowd for wedding photos, all the while every guest in attendance jostled for a better glimpse or an opportunity to be among the first to bless the couple. A flute of champagne was thrust into his hand for a photo toasting the newlyweds: Oh and Hoon kissing, surrounded by their jubilant friends raising them a glass. Teh drank it, wincing as the acrid liquid coated his tongue.

The dance floor surged like an ocean, waves of people came and went—some songs were more popular than others. Some guests chose songs they liked over songs that were good to dance to, while others preferred to tap their feet from the safety of their table. Teh nursed his second glass of champagne, finding that the taste did not improve but deciding that the bubbles were, at least, pleasant. A lacquered hand dropped onto his shoulder, he recognized it as belonging to someone he hadn’t glimpsed since the speeches commenced.

“Come dance with me?” Q spoke, leaning over Teh from behind the chair.

Teh hesitated, almost shaking his head “I’m not a good dancer,” he told the other best man.

“I’m not asking you to be a good dancer,” he chuckled, “I just want to dance with somebody, and you haven’t budged since they served dinner.” He offered his hand out to Teh now.

With a final swig, Teh downed the rest of the drink trying to suppress a wince and stood up accepting Q’s outstretched palm. And for a minute on the dance floor they could simply jump around and mouth the words to the upbeat song that played, slipping on alcohol that had been spilled by others before them, Teh watched from the corner of his eye as Q took long and discreet drags from his juul that he knew how to deftly conceal from years of practice. The song changed to a slow one, the first slow one in ages it felt, but the dance partners fit together neatly. They had never been particularly close; neither would have chosen the other for company had it not been their mutual desire to be in the company of Oh-aew. It was comfortable, not difficult; just sort of holding the other as you shifted weight from one foot to the other.

“I’ve never seen you drink before,” Commented Q, slipping the juul back into his pocket.

“Tastes awful,” Teh shrugged in response, not feeling very loquacious.

“But how does it feel?”

Teh shrugged again, “I don’t feel anything from it,” Silence fell over them again, they just let the music move them as though it was the tide. Teh found himself staring across the dance floor at Aew.

“Are you in love with Aew?” Q asked, with his tone he could have as well been asking about the weather.

Teh hesitated, unsurprised by Q’s perspicacity, but also caught off-guard by a question no one had ever succinctly put to him before. “Yes,” He finally answered, drawing his gaze away from Oh-aew to look at Q.

“I am, too,”

“I know,”

Q threw his head back with a laugh, the mirth of their sorry situation not lost on either of them. Q pulled him closer, posing the next question in a lower tone as though it were juicy gossip: “So tell me; does your brother have any flaws? Tell me about Hoon, Teh; what are his vices?”

Teh found himself chuckling as well, at the absurdity of the question and of their conversation. Wracking his brain for something, he came up blank a couple of times until— “His Japanese is pretty bad,” He finally supplied.

The mirth left Q’s face, replaced by annoyed disbelief. “That’s it! That’s all you can come up with?” He playfully pushed Teh’s shoulder, “Fuck, I’m digging for dirt and all you give me is ‘he’s not particularly bilingual’.”

“Well,” Teh spoke, a somewhat joyless chuckle breaking from his mouth, “Hoon actually speaks English fluently, and, of course, Mandarin…so really it would be more of a fourth language.”

Q rolled his eyes with a groan, “Okay, never mind; let’s talk about something else,”

“I liked your speech,” Teh quipped with a grin, possibly the first one of the whole day.

“Thanks—I hope you don’t mind that I kinda put some words into your mouth about the ‘best men’ thing,”

“—Not at all; I liked what you said about how the ‘real best men’ were actually Oh and Hoon.” Teh assured.

“Well, it’s the truth…I mean, shit, they’re not marrying us.” Q stated depreciatively.

Teh hesitated, unsure if he should make the next joke or not; as it was a bit unsavoury. “Well, actually; I’d only want to marry Oh-aew between the two of them.”

“Understandable,” Q nodded “I’ll marry Hoon, and then have a torrid love affair with Aew.” He had taken the juul from his pocket, inhaling deeply and holding it in.

“You’d cheat on my brother!” Teh pretended to be hurt, Q laughed, swishing his hand back and forth to push the smoke away from Teh’s face. “I’d marry Oh-aew and then have torrid love affair with Oh-aew.” He quipped, glad that the music was loud enough for their conversation to be somewhat private.

“Silly!” Q chastised, “You’re supposed to say that you’d have a love affair with me!” They both laughed, and Teh wanted Q to blow smoke in his face again. “You smell good, what is it?”

Teh thought for a second, caught off guard by the statement. “I guess it’s my body lotion, it’s vanilla and pistachio.”

“You’ll have to text me the brand, I want to get some,” Q offhandedly remarked.

“What did you think of my speech?” Teh questioned.

His companion shrugged, his juul stowed away again. “You’re an actor; you can make anything sound good.”

Before Teh could ask if that was an insult, the song changed; the tempo picked up and thrummed in his chest, beating there like a second heart. Q jerked his head and pulled Teh along with him across the dance floor towards Oh-aew.

Aew danced hard, his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, his jacket long since discarded as he swirled around his blouse reeling to keep up with the figure it adorned. He was gorgeous and sensual, people’s mouths watered to look at him. Q caught Teh’s eye as their best friend engulfed them in a warm embrace, and when he let go of them they spun him around and hoisted him onto their shoulders. Oh-aew let out a cry of surprise, but he laughed as he threaded his fingers through their hair for balance, and the matched pair felt shivers run down their spines as their love’s nails found momentary purchase on their scalps. A dense crowd formed around them, the music pulsating through their bodies, and a group lifted Hoon up as well, his hair disheveled in the night’s revelry. And after no small amount of jostling the husbands had been carried close enough to touch each other, grasping at each other’s arms for support as they laughed, drinking in the sight of one another. Teh looked up, watching as Oh-aew and his brother leaned in to kiss above the crowd.

[evabellasworld]

Storm of the Republic

Chapter 24

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Summary:  When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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Holding a flashlight, Dr. Urakchaevy checked her patient’s eyes and noticed her eyes squinted towards the flare. Maria, the Rodian lady, felt her sight were blurry as the doctor found halos around her sparkling eyes, making her frown. This is unusual for a Rodian’s eyes to look like that, she thought, as she jotted down on her datapad.

Dr. Urakchaevy took a deep breath and sat back at her desk, facing Maria with a frown on her face. “I’ve checked your eyes, and it’s terrible. I can reach to the conclusion that you are having cataracts in your eyes.”

“I’m not surprised,” Maria hung her head low, her hands clutched together. “Is there anything you could do to cure my cataract from my eyes? I don’t think I can survive without my eyes.”

“I agree, nobody wants to lose their sight, but as you get older, issues like eye problems and chronic pains are inevitable. Do you have any history with diabetes before?”

“I’m afraid I do. I have been on insulins for years and I had my leg amputated because of gangrene, so maybe this could be the reason my health has worsened over the years. I guess I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Dr. Urakchaevy pouted as she bobbled her head before scribbling a prescription on a piece of paper. “Your appointment date for your surgery will be on Friday. The sooner we get your cataract removed, the sooner you can see clearly like a young woman.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Maria, as she got up from her seat and left her office, leaving the doctor alone. Grabbing a tablecloth and a sanitizer, Dr. Urakchaevy wiped every single part of her office as part of standard procedure, making sure her office was hygienic enough for her next patient.

Having worked in a hospital on Coruscant before, the turquoise Theelin had to sanitise both her equipment and patient’s seat to prevent infections. Medical centres treated various diseases, such as common flu, chickenpox, and the infamous Shining Death, which killed hundreds and thousands of patients two decades ago.

At some point, Dr. Urakchaevy was contracted with the virus, but recovered for a month in the hospital. Her wife, Thando, was pacing up and down back home, wondering when she would return. Nobody could visit the hospital ward back then, as doctors and nurses did not want the Shining Death to spread and kill more people.

Tossing her disposable gloves into the bin, the doctor groaned and stretched her back as she stepped out of her office, only to find Fives and Yara seated on a blue chair, with Tup still inside his gurney, breathing through his ventilator. She wasn’t expecting their company, but she was ready to help anyone who stepped into her clinic.

“Good afternoon, Doc,” Fives greeted her with a smile. “I’m Fives, and this is Tup and Yara. I believe you could help us with our situation right now.”

“I’m guessing Liana Halls had sent you here,” estimated Dr. Urakchaevy.

“Who?” Yara raised her eyebrows, gazing at the doctor.

“The medicine lady earlier. Did she send you here?”

“She did, Doc,” she grinned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dr. Urakchaevy stood there in silence and eyed Yara and Tup, taking a mental note of their current condition. The former was next to her brother with a dazed eye, munching on her cookies that Thando had baked while holding her forehead. She then glimpsed at Tup, who seemed to be in a critical condition and in a need of medical care.

“How long has he been inside?” she asked the ARC Trooper, agitated.

“Over 5 hours,” he told her. “Can you save him? He looks like he’s dying.”

“Yes, I can,” Dr Urakchaevy nodded, as she gestured to them to hurry inside her office.

Putting on another set of rubber gloves, Fives put down Yara on the doctor’s desk, helped the doctor to unstrap Tup and carried him towards the patient’s bed, before placing a new set of ventilators and a heart monitor beside him. The latter was beeping rapidly as Dr. Urakchaevy squeezed some oxygen for Tup, hoping to stabilise his heart rate.

“How is he, Doc?”

“He’s getting weaker,” she answered him. “Is he having a heart attack or something? He looks pretty young to have these health conditions.”

“It’s complicated,” Fives stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “We don’t know to explain this.”

“If you don’t tell me, it would be very difficult for me to save your brother. Besides, I’ve dealt with strange diseases throughout my entire career. I’m sure this isn’t as bad as the Shining Death.”

Taking a deep breath, Fives explained everything that happened earlier on Ringo Vinda. From how Tup was acting strange before the fight, how he shot Master Tiplee to death, and how he acted aggressive when he stared at another Jedi, without sparing a single detail about the incident. “We think it was a virus developed by the Separatist, but we couldn’t find anything through the scans. That’s why we came to see you instead, since you’re the best doctor in town.”

Dr. Urakchaevy blinked as she slumped on a black chair and crossed her legs. She stared at the floor for a moment, processing what she had heard from Fives. Out of all the patients she had treated, she had never thought she would come across a clone trooper until today. “Are you sure Tup isn’t having a case of PTSD, cause aggression is part of the symptom, you know.”

Fives shook his head, crossing his arms. “Tup, Yara, and I have been through many battles together and he never acted this way before, really. He’s been through a lot with us since Umbara. It was the deadliest battle for a rookie like him.”

“I see. Well then, I’ll have to apologise since I have never treated a clone trooper before, hence I’m only observing based on my experience.”

“No worries, Doc,” he assured her, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry for shouting at you. It’s been a stressful day for all of us, inclusing you.”

“Apology accepted,” Dr. Urakchaevy gave a slight smile. “Did you see a medic before you came to me?”

Fives gave a nod. “We did, Doctor. Apparently, the Jedi and the medic said that it could be a virus developed by the Empire to control clones like us. There were rumours about it, and I think it could be true.”

Dr. Urakchaevy could only burst into laughter as she heard his statement before composing herself. “This is the first time I’ve heard of a virus that can cause aggression in a patient. Honestly, it is the most absurd thing someone has told me, really. I don’t remember learning that in medical school.”

“You mean a virus doesn’t do that?”

“No, they don’t. I’ve studied and treated viral infections on patients and I have never seen a patient acting aggressive solely for that reason.”

“Well, maybe the Empire developed one in their fancy lab. It could be possible, considering they tried to take Tup away.”

“Even if the Empire had produced a virus in their lab, the first symptoms of any virus would be runny nose, coughs, fever, and lethargy. Did Tup have those symptoms before the battle?”

Fives denied. “He was perfectly healthy. It was unlike my brother to kill a Jedi General, you know. He’s not the kind to get into bar fights easily.”

“Yeah, he seemed like a sweet man,” Dr. Urakchaevy chuckled, before moving on with the next question. “What about his brain? Does he have any brain problems?”

“Not that I know of, though it could be possible. After all, he was rubbing his head before the fight, so that could be it.”

“In that case, I will start a brain scan for Tup,” she stood up, along with Fives. “What about your sister, Yara? Is she having the same problem as well?”

“She broke her left arm and hit her head after the ship crash,” Fives said. “I had to carry her all the way here since she looked dizzy.”

“I’ll get my wife to deal with her. In the meantime, you need some rest for yourself. It’s been a long journey for all of you.”

“What about Tup? Will he be okay?”

“He will,” Dr. Urakchaevy comforted him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll do everything I can to save him.”

[sinner-as-saint]

Kill For You (Mob! Seb AU)

Part 3 of: Back For You and Want You Back.

 Run-through: A phone call from your dad changed your life instantly. One moment you were cuddling in bed with the mob boss, and the next you were rushing out of your house; running away from the one who claimed you as his. Were you right to do so?

Themes: dark! Seb, violence, smut, mob! Seb, dark family history.

A/N: The symbols “^^^” means a change in POV. Also, this is a long fic, grab your food.

   A/N: OMFG IMMA SAY THIS AGAIN, i will always be a hoe for this shoot!! 

Your heart was pounding; like a prey’s when trying to escape the jaws of death. Was Sebastian chasing you? No, not yet.

 You drove with one hand, while the other one rubbed your temple in weak attempts to alleviate the excruciating headache which you were experiencing.

God, what am I doing? You asked yourself, but again, your conscience did not reply.

Your eyes flicked to the folded piece of paper which was carelessly thrown on the passenger’s seat. The address which was written was not far; only a 15 minute drive from your dad’s house. Yet, it felt scary.

Actually the whole situation was scary; sleeping with a mob boss, running away from him, him eventually finding you and now the recent phone conversation with your dad.

You just hoped Sebastian would give up on you.

Yet, a little part of you; hidden in the depth of your heart; a little bit of hope burned bright – and it made you wish that Sebastian comes and takes you away like the prince charming on his white horse that you talked to him about, the first time you met him.

You sighed remembering that night in the pub. If all of this wouldn’t have happened, if Sebastian didn’t turned out to be a mob boss, how simple and easy things would’ve been?

You’d go to work the next day and brag about it to Liana, your co-worker. You’d tell her you met with a fine piece of man last night, that he took you home and disappeared in the morning without leaving behind any note or making any promises of coming back for you.

Things would’ve been easier that way. So much easier.

Lost in your thoughts, while the GPS gave you the necessary direction; you didn’t realize that you reached your unfamiliar destination already.

And the sight of it caused a familiar upsetting feeling in your gut.

 ^^^

 Sebastian walked in the room once again when he ended the call.

“Sorry babe, that was- babe? Babygirl, you’re in the bathroom? Y/n?” he called out, checking every corner of the room but was unable to find you.

He could’ve sworn he left you right here in bed. He was gone for barely five minutes, where could you have gone?

“Babygirl, come on,” he called out again and the only thing he heard back was his own voice echoing in the empty house.

 He approached the bed and set his phone down on the bedside table. Where is she?

He thought you probably went to get a drink, but he was just outside, he’d see you stepping out of the room. Right?

Suddenly, he noticed a folded piece of paper on the table beside him. The pen next to it had its cap off so whoever used it must’ve been in a hurry.

He was weirdly calm as he reached for the folded piece of paper. He held it in his hand and almost scoffed at the sight of it.

She wouldn’t, would she? She won’t leave me, again. She can’t. She’s mine.

He unfolded the pale yellow piece of paper and read the words scribbled upon it. Once, twice, three times.

It took him 3 reads to finally make sense of what was written on the paper; in a rushed, messy handwriting.

 -I can’t do this.

Love can’t be forced onto someone.

You need help.

 He chuckled, darkly. Oh you did it, you ran away again.

He liked chasing you, but you took it too far this time.

He folded the note again and placed it beside him carefully. He hurried to find his clothes and put them back on and while he did so, he stared at the spot on the ground where your unpacked luggage was just a few minutes ago.

He was trying his best not to let his anger get to his head. Because God knows what he would do when blinded by his anger.

 He took the note and slide it into his pockets. Sebastian let out a sigh as he stepped out of the room, taking a deep breath to get one last whiff of your floral scent which lingered in the air around the room.

Oh how he missed you already.

 He sighed again when he entered the driver’s seat of his car; the same one he drove to the pub, where he met you for the first time.

He grabbed the steering wheel and leaned his head back against the cool leather and closed his eyes. For the first time in all of his life, the notorious mob boss found himself in a dilemma. For the first time in years, he had no idea of what his next move should be.

Should he call Chris and ask him to track you down?

Should he go after you himself? He was experienced, one way or another he’ll end up finding you, but since you disappeared in thin air; that was gonna be difficult.

What would people say if they found out? What would his allies think of him if they found out that he could even keep his girl in check, that he couldn’t control her?

If people found out that his girl ran from him, which would be an ultimate embarrassment to the mob boss.

So, starting the car with a press of a button, pressing the gas and putting his ego and his reputation above everything else; the mob boss set out to look for you.

And he prayed that you knew that if the pathway that’ll lead to you ever required him to eliminate someone; he wouldn’t think twice. As he loved you enough to kill for you.

 ^^^

 You sheepishly got out of your car, clutching the folded piece of paper which contained the address. You looked up and in front of you was a house, identical to your dad’s in structure; only it was slightly larger. The front yard was a bit messy and it looked like it hadn’t been maintained in a long while.

The paint on the outside walls of the house looked a bit old, and certain places were covered in moss.

 You walked timidly till the front door and knocked, hoping to see your dad but instead; an unexpected person appeared and pulled you in for a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N!! Oh my Goodness! Thank God you’re okay, what did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Did h-,”

“Liana? What the hell are you doing here? Who- what- what is happening? Is my dad here?” to say you were confused would be an understatement. You were completely baffled at this point.

“Yeah, he’s inside. Come on in, we’ll explain everything to you. I know it might be a lot to take in, but, please you have to believe us,” Liana said, closing the door and dragging you into what seemed like the living area.

She was your friend/co-worker at the pub. What in the world was she doing here?

 As she pulled you into the living room across the long hallway, you managed to take a brief look around. You saw pictures of your mom and dad, when they were still together. The pictures looked old, and the frames looked like they were covered in thick layers of dust. You looked at the pictures rapidly, and a lot of them made sense.

There was one of your mom and dad from when they visited Paris, before you were born. There was another framed which held the picture of your mom and dad dancing at their wedding. There was one of your dad, and another man; whom you didn’t know, and he looked a lot like him.

You rushed through the pictures rapidly, and one in particular caught your attention. It was of a man, standing next to a woman, and the woman was holding a two year old. It looked like a normal family picture until you realized that the two year old was you, and the ones holding you weren’t your parents.

Who were they?

 “She’s here,” Liana announced as the two of you stepped into the living room. You stood awkwardly behind her and in front of you were your dad, Mariah, your mom and an unknown young man.

“Mom? What is- what’s going on?” you asked again, out of confusion. You prayed that this was all a dream and that you would wake up in your bed back in your little town. You wished none of this ever happened.

“Hey peanut, come here,” your dad took a step forward and extended both his arms. You hurried into his arms and closed your eyes, letting your tears fall.

“Dad! I missed you!” you spoke through the tears and opened your eyes to find your mom sniffling too. She looked like she was in shock, she looked scared.

“Hey mom,” you spoke as you pulled away from your dad and hugged her. She hugged you tightly, and sobbed.

Ever since they broke up, you rarely saw your mom.

“Oh my baby, I’m so sorry I had to leave you, I’m sorry,” she sobbed against your shoulder.

What does she mean ‘had to leave you’?

“Mom, it’s okay,” you tried calming her down, and since she wasn’t getting a grip on herself, your dad had to step in.

“Ellie, please, I need to talk to Y/n,” he spoke in a tone you did not quite understand.

“Let’s go upstairs, peanut. We have a lot to talk about,” your dad spoke again, giving you a faint smile.

 Your mother finally let you go and your dad ushered you upstairs. You followed him in pure confusion, and a slight bit of fear.

 He led you to a study room, similar to the one he had at his place. Only this one was empty; dark red walls, and only a wooden desk and two chairs on either side of it. The shelves were free of any books, and the table was empty as well.

“Have a seat honey,” he pointed to one of the chairs as he settled on the other one.

“Dad, please. Just tell me what’s going on,” you pleaded and he did everything to avoid your eyes.

He sighed. He looked upset.

“Honey… Y/n, promise me whatever happens, no matter what I tell you, will change nothing between us. Can you promise me that?” he asked and an unsettling feeling formed in your gut. Again.

“Yes, yes okay, fine. Just tell me,” your voice was desperate. Desperate to finally figure out what was going on.

Your dad sighed again.

 “You were two years old, when my brother and our wives went on a family trip including you. We stayed at a cabin in the woods and were having a great time when my brother’s wife told us a man with a gun was at the door. My brother was, well, a bad person. But he loved his family more than anything. And when it came to protecting it, he wasn’t afraid to sacrifice himself,” your dad spoke, his eyes glossy with tears as they threatened to fall.

Woah, you thought, you never knew all this.

“Dad, what do you mean by bad person? Was he like Sebastian o-,”

“Y/n! Don’t you dare utter his name in this house!” the chilling tone he used was enough to shut you up.

“My brother was nothing like them. He was just, helpless. When we were young, and abandoned by our mother, he had no choice but to join the mafia so he could raise me. The day he died was the worst day of my life, I lost my brother and… you lost your dad,” he spoke softly, his eyes searching yours.

The last few words he spoke replayed in your head like a broken record.

You lost your dad… you lost your dad… you lost your dad

 “What- what does that mean?” you managed to choke out. Your head was spinning as you tried to wrap your bran around what he had just said.

“Oh peanut, you promised this wouldn’t change anything between us. You, well, you’re my brother’s daughter. One of the Stans murdered him that night, and your mother Ellie hasn’t been the same ever since, which is why she moved away from you. I had to take care of my own family, that’s why when you came of age, I left you at home. That boy you saw outside is my son, and Mariah is my wife, she has always been. We’re so sorry we had to hide this from you,” he spoke and stopped for a second just to make sure you were still following.

“We thought you would lead a normal life, away from your father’s past and our buried family history. It would all be well if that rascal did not lay his eyes on you. He ruined everything. And when I found out that you were coming to New York, I knew something was up. I had, uh, my people look into it and they said a certain…Stan visited you at home. So, I had to step in. You will always be my daughter, Y/n. I have loved you like my own, kept my own son away from me. This won’t change anything between us, right?” he continued, leaning forward slightly.

He watched you as your heart broke into a million pieces, and silent tears fell down your face. His face was surprisingly expressionless.

Your whole life had been a lie, hadn’t it? You tried to cry but you couldn’t find the energy to. Your mind was blank, unable to think.

 “Honey? Hey, peanut come on, I know it hurts. But you still have your family here with you. You belong here, with us. You’re home sweetheart, and you’re safe. You’re away from him,” he spoke again.

“I just- the pictures they, mom is- I, I’m sorry. I think I need to be alone for a while,” you whispered, closing your eyes and allowing the hot tears to fall down your cheeks.

It was too much, way too much. You were afraid you would lose your mind if you didn’t step away to get a grip on your racing thoughts.

Your… uncle agreed and let your step outside. He yelled a name, you heard it but your brain didn’t register it. You felt like you were gonna faint.

You felt a pair of hands grabbing you.

“Y/N! Hey, hey you okay? Take my hand, let’s go to your room,” your heard a voice say. Liana, perhaps.

 You walked, and walked while your thoughts raced. You saw your feet move, and with each step; the words repeated themselves.

You lost your dad…you lost your dad…One of the Stans murdered him… that rascal laid his eyes on you… you’re home now… you lost your dad.

It was too much, way too much.

 You didn’t realize you were sobbing until your body hit the ground. Liana was no longer there. The carpet upon which you curled up in a ball was dusty, the room was well furnished but it looked old.

Your tears didn’t stop.

 Liana was right outside the bedroom door. She heard, she heard everything when your uncle explained all the stuff to you. She has known you for a little bit, but the girl really liked you.

She was sent to befriend you and become your co-worker at the pub; she was sent by your own uncle. So she knew from the beginning. She knew it all, and she knew just who to call.

As she heard your sobs, she grabbed her phone, made sure no one was around and dialed a certain number.

It rang once. Then twice, and then they picked up.

“Hello?” the husky voice said from the other side.

“Boss, they have her,” she whispered, turning around to make sure no one was hearing her talk. Liana told him everything he needed to know. Including all the lies which were involved.

 ^^^

  Sebastian toyed with his shiny gun in his hands as he sat in the living area of his home in New York. Scotch in his hand, and his most trusted friend in front of him; the thought of you gone was driving the mob boss crazy.

“Liana called yet?” Chris asked from the other side of the room. A minute ago, he was barking orders at his people too, but when he saw his boss/best friend looking all upset for the first time in his life; he realized that you being gone was actually harsh on Sebastian.

“No,” was all Sebastian said.

Oh he was angry, very angry. At himself, at you, at whoever it was that took you away from him; at everything.

He missed you, your face, your touch, your voice; everything about you. He needed his girl, and she wasn’t here.

He gulped down the burning liquid at one go and poured himself another. Not even alcohol was helping him in getting rid of the thought of you.

He had sent his people everywhere; Paris, New York, back in your town, even sent some at some nearby airports. But none could find you.

Chris sighed.

“Dude, it’s just a girl. You’ll find a thousand more, just say the word. Women basically throw themselves at you, man, if she doesn’t want this, then let her go. You’ll find someone else, someone better,” Chris reasoned with his friend and all he got back was a death glare.

Sebastian gave him his signature death glare from the stool of his indoor bar. He leaned against the counter, and even that reminded him of you. He thought about the day he first met you, and how gorgeous you looked with your dark green polo shirt, and your messy hair and shiny e/c eyes.

“Oh come on! Look at you, you’re Sebastian Stan, the most notorious mob boss in this fucking country. Look at you being a softie for a girl who left you and ran away to someone else! Get over it-,” before he could finish his sentence, he had to duck down till his body hit the ground because Sebastian aimed in his direction with his gun.

A series of cuss words left his mouth as he covered his ears while on the ground.

The gun shots boomed across the entire house as Sebastian fired at nothing in particular; a vase or two broke. Maybe even a glass pane, but Chris wasn’t hurt – luckily.

And once the booming gunshots stopped, Sebastian spoke up.

“Stop talking,” was all Sebastian said, after which he gulped down another shot of whiskey and as he began pouring himself another glass, his phone rang – vibrating on the counter top.

 “Hello?” he answered the call without even bothering to check who the caller was.

“Boss, they have her,” came the female voice from the other side. Sebastian sat up straight in the stool, while Chris walked up to him; trying to figure out what caused this sudden change in his demeanor.

 Fuck! He should’ve known that you’d fall right into whatever trap they would lay out in your path. He should’ve known.

 “And?” Sebastian wanted to know more from Liana, after all, she was his spy. He sent her to the rivals just so she could keep an eye on them.

He didn’t know that they would buy her façade so much that they’d send her to keep an eye on their daughter who knew nothing of her family’s criminal background.

Liana was working for the Y/L/Ns but she reported back to Sebastian whenever there was something he needed to know. And right now, he needed to know how they were treating his girl.

“They’re feeding her lies. He told her the made up cabin story he tells everyone, and told her how one of your family killed her dad and everything. I think she bought it because she, well, she…” her voice came to a halt, and Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat.

He jumped off the stool at the mention of his girl and as worry washed over him. He thought he’d be angry at Y/n, but he wasn’t. He was worried, he needed to know that she was safe.

Was he actually being a softie like Chris said?

“What? She what? Where is she? Is she okay?” he asked in exasperation and Liana explained everything much slower once again.

Sebastian understood that your uncle had you, and that he was feeding you lies. He wanted to see you, hold you in his arms, look into your e/c eyes and tell you the truth. He didn’t want you to hate him, he wanted you to trust him.

Your uncle was…not to be trusted. He knew that, but you didn’t. You were being manipulated and he hated that.

I need to see her.

 “I need to see her,” he repeated at Liana and she almost lost her shit.

“What? Are you insane? I can’t let you I-,”

“I’m Sebastian Stan, I do what I want. And when I want to see my girl, no son of a bitch will stop me. Do what you have to do, I’ll be there tonight. I need to see her,” he spoke in his bossy tone. And it shut Liana up.

“Will do, Boss,” was all she said and ended the call.

 Sebastian placed his phone back on the counter top and let out a sigh of relief.

 “So… you’re going to see her? At Connor’s place? You’re going to the Y/L/Ns? You know he hates you more than anything, right? Take some men with you, I’ll h-,” Chris got cut off by Sebastian’s annoyed voice.

“Do you ever stop talking, man? Don’t tell me what to do! I have a plan, just handle their security cameras,” Sebastian ordered as he made a mental plan on how to reach you.

He grabbed his phone again and sent a text to Liana, telling her to get everyone out of the house by 10 p.m. He’d drive there and see you, while Chris will have his people hack into your uncle’s security cameras and delete all the footage which needed to be deleted.

He would a couple of his men guard the premises while he talked to you. He really needed to clear things out. And he needed to you know the truth.

 ^^^

 “Are you sure, honey? You know you can come along, just say so,” your Uncle Connor said while he stood right at the door frame of your temporary bedroom.

It seemed unreal to you how just hours ago you thought this man was your dad. Your biological father, but now he’s just… Uncle Connor.

You were curled up in bed, holding a pillow under your chin as you politely refused him. They all to leave suddenly, to… meet someone? An old family friend, maybe? You didn’t bother listening to wherever it was they were going. You were way too caught up in the chaos which occurred in your mind.

“Okay then, Liana and Dylan will be right here, okay. You kids be safe, alright? I’ll see when we get back, we won’t be long I promise,” with that said, he shut the door and you sighed as you heard his footsteps walking away.

You didn’t want to talk to anybody, you didn’t care who kept you company or who went away. You just discovered that the one you thought was your dad, is actually your uncle. You just found out that your family has a criminal history. You found out that someone actually murdered your real father, and that someone was a family member of the mob boss you slept with a few days ago. And although you were never close to your mom, you felt bad for her. And even though you don’t remember you real father, the revelation of his death did cause a void in your heart.

Fuck. This was a lot to take in.

 You weren’t crying anymore. You didn’t want to. You just needed to get away from here and never look back. You wanted to be back at your small town, and wake up complaining about going to work at the pub.

The thought of going back home was comforting. But going back home would always remind you of why you wanted to leave in the first place.

Sebastian…

You whispered his name under your breath and close your eyes as his face popped into your mind. He was, unforgettable. The power he carried, the way he knew he could do whatever the hell he wanted, the recklessness in him; the danger which lurked around him – it was addicting.

You were afraid and ashamed to admit it, but you wouldn’t dislike him being here right now, with you.

Yup, all this mess has finally made me crazy. You thought.

 A few seconds later, you heard knocking at the door. You had no energy left to physically open the door so you yelled from your unmoved spot on the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n, its Liana. I, uh, I just wanted to let you know that if you need anything I’ll be downstairs in the basement playing video games with Dylan. Okay?” came Liana’s slightly muffled voice from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, okay,” was all you replied with and listened intently to her fading footsteps as she walked away.

 You laid around in the bed, and admitted that it was weirdly comfortable and expensive looking. Maybe this whole mob/criminal business really did pay well.

 After a while of doing nothing at all, you glanced at your phone and saw that it was quarter to 10, so you decided to take a shower because long, hot showers made everything much more bearable.

You opened your luggage and fished out a sleeping garment; boy shorts and a white tee, your daily PJs. You walked into the bathroom attached to the room and began undressing, then slipped under the hot water.

The door was slightly opened, and the air got slightly colder than before; felt like a breeze just rushed through. Weird, you thought, you don’t remember opening any windows.

 After your long shower, a full 30 minutes later; you quickly got dressed and stepped out of the bathroom, untying your hair from the topknot and letting it fall down your back.

You through the towel in the hamper and walked over to the wide open window. You wanted to feel scared. But you didn’t.

You felt numb. Like as if nothing would surprise you anymore. Not even if a certain mob boss barged into your room like he did in your other house.

You scoffed. He wouldn’t come here. Not if he knew about the whole t-

 “We really need to stop meeting like this,” said a voice from behind you.

 You were halfway through closing the window, but his words got you frozen in your spot.

You closed your eyes and almost laughed at the irony. If this was a book you were reading, this would be the part where you’d close the book, take a breath and sigh, and open the book again to keep on reading. Unfortunately, you couldn’t pause time in real life.

You knew you’d have to turn around eventually. You knew you’d see his face. You weren’t ready for it, yet a part if you knew that his face would, surprisingly, act as a balm to this situation.

You turned around reluctantly. You thought you would scream and shout until either Liana or Dylan, your cousin, came upstairs to help you out; but it seemed like your body refused to listen to you.

You could feel the blood rushing through your body, you could hear your heartbeats ringing in your ears. Your hands were shaking slightly; you didn’t know if it was out of fear or because you needed to hold on to someone.

 “You need to go. Now,” was all you could say to him, and his face fell.

His eyes held an emotion you had never seen in them before. Pity? Repentance? Care or worry? You didn’t know what it was.

 “I promise I won’t be long, I just need to talk to you. Just let m-,”

You cut him off.

 “There’s nothing to talk about Sebastian. Just go. He, my- they’re gonna k-,”

He cut you off.

 “Just hear me out! Please, please just hear me out once. Just give me five minutes of your time. And after that, if you want me gone, I’ll go away without a word and you’ll never see me again. But please, baby, just listen to me,” he pleaded. He looked miserable and your eyes were quickly filling up with tears.

You simply nodded and took a step forward.

 “God! Fuck! I don’t even know where to- okay, listen. Your uncle, Connor. He’s a conman, a manipulative ass-,”

 You cut him off again.

“Watch it! He’s my-,”

 He took a step forward, and for the first time, you didn’t take one back.

“He’s your what? What did he tell you, huh? That he watched his brother get murdered, and that he raised you up like a daughter because he loved you? He lied, baby. It’s all a lie, the whole story is a lie!” he raised his voice slightly, emphasizing on the fact that your uncle lied to you.

 “And how would you know? You could be defending your-“

 “I’m not defending anyone! I know because my family was there too. My dad told me all about that night before he- before he died! Connor took you and your parents to that cabin, but not because he loved his brother, but because he wanted to kill him! He killed them both, your mom and your dad. That woman, Ellie only looks like your mother, she’s no one to you. She was hired,” Sebastian spoke and your heart broke a little more with each revelation that he made.

 You were waiting to feel something, anything, but again all you felt was nothing. Just numb.

 “Connor had a plan. He would kill his brother and the brother’s wife, and get their money. He needed the title that your dad had, of that of a well-known boss in the world which I’m from. Your dad did what I do. Our families weren’t enemies long ago, they were allies. That night, on which your parents were killed, my dad and some of his men were nearby. They heard gunshots and when they later discovered what happened, they threatened your uncle. Because we don’t kill our family, we protect them,” he continued and you listened calmly.

You were lied to again.

“My family thought what Connor did was terrible and were planning to get him out of the way but we heard the news that him and his wife took you and ran away to a small town. We tried to reach you, but Connor already had a gang of his own. He wanted your dad’s money, but your parent’s already had a will. A will which states that their money will be given to you when you turn 25. So, Connor had no other choice but to raise you like his own, until you turn 25. Baby, he is someone who is willing to do anything for the fortune that your parents left you. If he killed his brother, he won’t hesitate to… hurt you,” Sebastian finished and took a deep breath and waited for your reaction.

 “How do you know all of this? How do I know you’re no lying to me, because clearly everyone else is,” you asked, your eyes glossy with tears.

He sighed.

 “I just needed you to know this side of the story. You deserved to know that you were being lied to. And now that Ellie has played her part, I have a feeling they’ll get rid of her soon. This world, this life is a dirty game, babygirl. There are few you can trust, if any. And right now, I need you to trust me,” he said, walking up to you and placing his hand softly against your face.

Oh how he missed you.

 You closed your eyes briefly at his touch and opened them against, the back of your eyes burned as the tears threatened to fall.

 “Is that why he lied about you? I- how can I just believe you? You’re, you- you are one of them as well,” you asked, feeling slightly bad for comparing him to your uncle Connor.

God, what even is this life anymore?

 “That’s up to you, baby. All I wanted was to let you know that you shouldn’t trust him. Connor is capable of anything. Just, be safe for me. Please,” he looked you deep in the eyes with his worried blue ones.

 You finally let the tears fall. And sobbed.

 “I just want to go back home. I’m tired of this. I don’t want to be in this crossfire, I never asked for this. I just, want my old life back,” you sobbed and he pulled you in for a tight hug.

The mob boss was surprised at his own actions. He never thought he would be the type to care so much, but apparently he did.

 “Don’t cry, babe,” he said and lifted your chin up to look at your teary face. He didn’t like seeing you in tears.

 He could be lying as well, your brain projected at you. But after all that happened today, all the things you learnt; you believed that Sebastian wouldn’t sneak in the house of his rival’s house just to lie to you. He had to be telling the truth.

Well, then you just spent your whole life calling a murderer ‘dad’. What makes it worse is that he killed his own brother. The thought of it made you sick; you were just a pawn in their game. He didn’t love you like a daughter, he kept you as a bargain, as an assurance which he would then exchange for money later.

Would he kill you though? Was the love he showered you with all fake? All those Sundays you spent baking in the kitchen when you were younger, was that all for show? All the trips you went to as a family? All the promises he made of walking you down the aisle one day?

Turns out it was all fake.

 It could be the built up frustration, anger, fear and all the other emotions which you were feeling, you weren’t sure; but it somehow caused you to pull his neck down and connect his lips to yours. You could sense his surprise as he slowly kissed you back.

The kiss was messy and you could taste your salty tears in it, along with his raw taste and suddenly, there was just the two of you that mattered in the moment.

His arms circled around your waist as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to the side slightly. He groaned as your lips lightly stroked the inside of his mouth.

Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as you felt him walk the two of you back until you hit the edge of the bed.

“Baby, I missed you so much,” he whispered as he took off his suit and his button down shirt, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Despite the messy situation, you couldn’t help but traced a finger along his bare torso, down until his Adonis belt. Driven by the recklessness of the moment and the lust in your veins, you started unbuckling his belt when he stopped your actions, causing you to look up at him.

“Take your time later, babe. We have to be quick, and I need to be in you. Now,” he spoke in between kisses as he pushed you back on the bed, got rid of his pants and briefs and climbed on top of you again.

His hand slipped into your shorts and he pressed his fingers against your core, which started dripping with desire as soon as his cold fingers made their way into your folds.

 “Sebastian. . .” you moaned out his name and felt his fingers circling your clit faster at the sound of it.

His mouth was on your neck as you lifted your back off the bed slightly to get rid of your white shirt. His tongue slipped out and licked along your jaw and you let out a breathy moan. Fuck, his touch felt so right.

 He lifted himself off of you just for a moment, taking your shorts off and admiring your bare body under him. And he was in awe of your beauty.

“Seb!” you broke his reverie and dragged him back to reality and he chuckled and got back to kissing you again.

His mouth on yours and everything was alright in the world. Here you were, you thought, seeking refuge in the arms of a notorious mob boss who was feared by most people in the country. Life really took you to unexpected places.

You lost your train of thoughts when you felt a bulge pressed against your heat. His mouth was still assaulting the skin at your sweet spot and soon, he teased your entrance with his tip.

 You moaned out loud as your back arched off the bed and your hands gripped the sheets tightly as the familiar wave of euphoria washed over you.

Seeing your squirming body, he placed his mouth onto one of your breasts and gave the erected bud a soft suction.

He kissed his way upwards across your skin once again and captured your lips in a longing kiss; his tongue slipped past your lips while he slowly slipped his length past your glistening folds and into your entrance.

You whimpered as his thick cock stretched you to your maximum, you felt his length pulsating inside you, against your walls and in that moment that was all you could focus on. Just him.

His touch, his scent, his voice as he whispered your name over and over again under his breath as he filled you up to the brim.

He lifted his head to look at you with hooded eyes, he was breathing heavily and you were too. Both driven by lust and desire and an unexplainable trust in each other, you felt connected when you looked into his stormy, ocean eyes.

Slowly, he moved his lower body and slipped out of you slightly before rocking into you once again. He never broke eye contact and your whole body shook under him.

 “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered in between ragged breaths, more like demanded, while he was buried in you; unmoving. He looked like he was determined not to move until you answered him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and noticed the little smirk which made its way onto his gorgeous face.

You wrapped your arm around his broad shoulder while the other hand held his face gently.

 “I’m yours,” was all you whispered. And it was all that he needed to hear before he could pound into you like he owned your body.

He supported himself above you by placing his elbows on either side of your head; while he rocked in and out of you at a fast pace. He dipped his head back down and kissed you again.

You felt him, all of him as he slipped in and out of your tight entrance. Your lips were slightly parted as you gasped at each of his movement.

 His mouth moved wonderfully against yours as he filled you up nicely with each sinful stroke of his length.

Your eyes rolled back as he gripped your jaw tightly with one hand as he broke the kiss. He lifted his head slightly to get a better look at you; at you completely at his mercy under him.

“You’re mine, you get that? You belong to me, and I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re mine alone, babygirl . . .” he said so more to himself than to you, but still you couldn’t help the warm feeling that washed over you when you heard him.

 “Daddy, I- fuck!” you yelled as he hit a sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. As he kept thrusting relentlessly into you, you heard him chuckle.

 “I’m right here, baby. I got you,” he whispered against your lips and tugged on your bottom lips as you felt the pressure forming at your core once again.

The hot, burning desire coursed through your veins and his name and a series of cuss words escaped your lips as his quickened his pace; rocking in and out of you with ease.

A thick warmth surrounded the two of you as you basked in each other’s body heat. This was comforting; he was comforting.

 Your moans got louder, and he pulled his length all the way out of you then slammed into you almost immediately and that was all you needed to let go.

The sweet pressure became too much to handle so you came around his length as his name left your lips like a chant.

He came right after you as well, coating your walls with his hot load as he had his throbbing length buried inside your warm entrance.

You were gasping for air under him, you felt as if your throat was slightly sore from moaning his name over and over again earlier. Once he came, he moaned you name under his breath as well.

He gave you a sloppy kiss as he carefully slipped out of you and plopped on the bed right beside you. When he did so, you felt his warm load slowly trickle out of your pulsating entrance.

You heard him sigh, after which he pulled you into his arms, placing your head on his chest – you let out a sigh as well.

A thin layer of sweat covered both your bodies and the air smelt like his cologne mixed with the scent of sex.

 “If they find us like this, they’re gonna kill you,” you whispered, feeling weirdly safe in his arms. His chest vibrated under your head as he chuckled at your words.

 “No one’s taking me away from you anytime soon,” he replied and you smiled, feeling the tears coming back once again. Your heart was racing, and so was his still.

 “Take me with you. I don’t wanna live my parent’s murderers. Please, Seb,” you choked out as a hot tear escaped your eyes and fell down your cheek and landed on his torso.

You didn’t know why you were asking him for help, but it seemed as though you would be safer with him than here in this house filled with murderers.

 The mob boss felt helpless. This was all he wanted from the beginning; to have you with him. And here you were, asking him to take you along with him, but he couldn’t do that. It was too risky. And he knew he wouldn’t gamble or played this dirty game if you were at stake.

He could easily take you with him, bring you wherever you wanted to, but if Connor or his men ever found you; he was certain that he would kill you on sight. And he couldn’t take that risk. He would take you with him once he has Connor out of the way, and right now, he couldn’t do that.

 He pained him to say that, but he had to refuse.

“I can’t,” was all he said and both your hearts broke a little bit more. He felt more tears landing on his torso and he wanted nothing more than to just empty bullets into Connor’s skull for making you cry.

 You sniffled and your whole body shook as you silently sobbed against his chest.

“So you’re just gonna leave me here? You followed me this whole way, and now I’m literally asking you t-,”

 “I’m not abandoning you, baby. You have to understand, please, I can’t put you at risk by g-,”

 His words came to a halt as you heard knocking on the door.

You both froze, you searched his eyes to see if he was as frightened as you but he wasn’t.

 “Boss, they’re here,” came Liana’s frightened voice from the other side of the door.

 Boss?

 “Gotta go babygirl, I’m sorry. I love you, just be safe. Keep Liana close, and don’t trust Connor. I’ll figure this out, I just need you to stay safe okay. Don’t go anywhere with him alone, don’t trust anyone here, except for Liana, you get me? I love you,” he spoke while putting his clothes back on.

 And he left after giving you a kiss on your forehead.  

 I love you . . .

   ^^^

  Sebastian managed to sneak out of your room using the dark of the night to his advantage and he hurried to his car. He noticed that Connor’s car was parked right in front of the front door, and he was getting out of it.

He saw the ugly smirk on his face and it took everything in his willpower to not grab the always loaded gun and shoot him dead right in front of his house, on his own property.

But he didn’t.

 Connor, having done what he did; including having used and manipulated you all this time, didn’t deserve such an easy death.

Sebastian smiled sinisterly as he sat comfortably in the leather seat of his car; he was gonna take Connor down painfully. He would make him confess whatever dirty tricks he played in the past, he would destroy him; butcher his existence until he begged for death.

They hurt his girl, and in doing so; they unleashed the beast he had buried long ago. The beast left no room for mercy; he only knew how to kill.

So, he would kill for you . . . 

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[deadlygoddess85]

Eternal Soul - Serie

- Part 1 - 

Chapter 1 - The Beaconing

Paring: OT8

Words: A lot

Genre: Fantasy with a touch of horror.

Songs suggestion: The Queen of the damned soundtrack and Nothing else matters by Apocalyptica. 

Characters presentation: The Vampires   

Characters Presentation: The Witches

The clacking of her heels resonates in the dark alley, she’s terrified. She’s trying to escape something or someone. Her breathing is fast, it’s hard for her to get the air in. She looks around not sure where she needs to go now. A noise behind her makes her squeal in fear. She looks toward the commotion, nothing. Suddenly, she feels it, the intense pain. First on her neck, then throughout her entire body. She wants to scream; her mouth opens but no words come out. Her head tilted back; she finally sees the cause of her pain. It’s him, the man from the bar. But he is not alone, as another join him. She feels a new pain on her wrist, then another one on her ankle where a smaller figure wraps his arms around.

Her body gets numb. She’s cold now. Her eyes, glossed by tears that won’t fall, look up at the moon as she breath out her last breath. The three men leave her dead body in this dark back alley where no one will find it. It will collapse on the ground in a muffled thud and will be forsaken.

---

Perched on the edge on the roof of the adjacent building, Seonghwa was observing the whole scene in silence. The soft summer breeze blew a small string of his dark hair in front of his piercing blue eyes. The moonlight cast a dim light on his perfect features giving him an ethereal presence. He thanks his decision to wear his dark blue velvety shirt. The long sleeves covering him from the brisk wind of the night. His slender fingers rake his chestnut hair in an attempt to put the rebellious strand back in place but in vain. He sighed slightly irritated. Seonghwa crane his neck, following the three creatures who were walking down the road, unnoticed by the street crowd, until they were out of sight.

“It’s the twelfth victim this week” he stated without moving from his position.

His partner, who was standing behind him, step forward staring at the inanimate body in the alley below them. Hands in his pockets, he stayed silent, feeling for the poor soul who just died tonight. San was one to care about humans more than his fellow brothers. He hated to see them become useless victims for the rival clan. Thanks to his telepathic powers, San was able to read the last thoughts of the dying victims. Thoughts he would always write down in his precious notebook as a sort of tribute. He took the small journal from his jacket’s pocket, the purple cover feeling strangely comforting under his fingertips. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and, taking a small used-up pencil from the same pocket, he started to scribble what he had hear from the dying lady.

“Are you listening San?” Seonghwa asked as he looked over his shoulder.

San finished writing the last words that were trapped in his mind and he finally put the journal back to its original repository.  

“I heard.” He answered bluntly, his purple eyes falling on his squatted partner.

Seonghwa got up from his vantage point and faced San, towering him with his tall figure: “Have you been able to get something out of their thoughts at least?”

The black hair man looked up at his ally. Under the moonlight his illuminated eyes looked like two amethyst. He also had a jawline close to perfection and on his neck, a small trail of freckles that only the most intimate could see. He squinted at the question:

“I couldn’t read. They must have known we were around.”

‘If he wasn’t spending so much time reading humans mind, maybe he could do his job as “The Mind reader” of the clan,’ thought Seonghwa. He considered his younger partner. San was a brave vampire, but his love for humans will be his death one day if he is not more careful. Seonghwa sighed:

“Come on! Let’s go back home and inform the others”

And the two men vanished from the roof without a sound.

The cold breeze of the wind blows through the branches of the trees. An owl hoot into the night. The full moon illuminates everything under its magical light. The cemetery is quiet and empty, the tombstone and monuments are keeping guard in memories of those who passed away.

Sitting alone on the ground, knees to his chest, head low, Wooyoung prays. In front of him, a single tombstone with a small cherub looking down at him with sadness in its eyes. Grave in the ashen stone, a name: “Liana”. The young man sits still, reciting his prayer in the hope one day, it will be answered. In the pit of his stomach he could feel it: The hunger. He hated it. Wooyoung slowly lift his head, tilting it back to face the sky. His green eyes opened to look at the moon and he cursed at his new craving. Then, his gaze fell on the cold stone in front of him. A single tear rolled down his cheek, trailing slowly along his jawline.

“I am longing to be with you my love” his voice is a whisper and yet it echoes down his very soul.

The pain was harrowing. He was damned to spend eternity without the love of his life and he despised his master for that. He never wished to become a vampire, he never asked for it and yet, Hongjoong transformed him. Forcing him to fake his death and hide from everyone he loved, his friends, his family, his love. She committed suicide a few weeks after Wooyoung’s acted death, unable to live her life without him.

The young man shifted position, kneeling in front of the tombstone. He leaned in and pressed his palm on the cold granite. His long fingers traced each letter of his lost love’s name. Another tear rolled down his cheek. He closed his eyes trying to remember her face, but it was fading away from his memory. He couldn’t even retrace the shape of her eyes. He sat on his heels and sob quietly.

Wooyoung stayed like this for another hour or so, then he found the strength to pick himself up. Running his fingers in his golden locks, he gave a last look to his love’s tomb and silently walked out of the cemetery. Once he passed the iron gates, he looked up at the sky. The moon was slowly disappearing in the horizon. Still, the hunger was present in his stomach, but it would have to wait. It was time to go home. Ignoring the ache from his craving, the young man turned left and walked down the street, following the familiar path back to the manor.

“The cold strike him like a million needles piercing his body. He opened his eyes despite the pain. Ice. Cube of ice and water surrounded him. He tried to hold his breath as best as he could, but soon his lungs screamed for oxygen. He battled against the cold water, trying to find something to grip, something that could get him out from under this iced bath. But as he started to feel his lungs filling up with water, someone pulled him out. Dragging him out of the tub. His vision was blurred. Water was spilling from his mouth. He felt his arms being stretch over his head, he slowly looked up. A meat hook, his tied-up hands were suspended on this hook. His feet barely touched the ground. Then nothing. For a second. A minute. Until the snap of a whip is being heard. The awful pain that follows makes him screams and flinch. Once, twice, three and four time, up till he can’t count anymore. The screams are mere whimpers now, as his back is shred to pieces. He is about to lose consciousness and he hears a name: “Pierce”…then the words “rare blood” – “keep him alive” – “kill the others”.”

Yeosang woke up from this vivid vision and sit straight on his bed. Panting heavily. It took him a minute to realize he was still in his room. He touched his back and felt his silky-smooth skin under his satin shirt, he sighed and cursed at himself. He lazily got off his bed and walked to his private bathroom. Leaning down the sink, he splashes some water over his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hazel eyes analyzing every aspect of his features. He recalled the vision he had. The bathtub. The ice. The meat hooks. The torture. And the name “Pierce”. Yeosang sat at his desk and started to sketch every aspect of his vision with precise details. Once the portrait of this “Pierce” was done, he looked at it concerned:

“Who are you?” he whispered at the man on the paper. He quickly got out of his room with his drawings in hand and walked down to his master’s private quarters.

His steps are light despite the heavy boots he was wearing. His movements, somehow gracious. Some inexperienced eyes would believe he was almost dancing. Yeosang followed the long hallway down to the living room where Mingi was hiding.

A Machiavellian smile on his face, his eyes forming small crescent behind which two mesmerizing orange pupils shines like sun stones. The red-haired vampire, hidden in a corner of the room almost invisible to the eye, waited for the right time. On the floor, in the middle of the room was laying, an almost imperceptible cable, each end attached to a different anchor. It was harmless. Yeosang was dangerously close to the wire, Mingi concentrated on it, stretching it slowly with his mind and…nothing! Yeosang stopped and lazily walked over the wire:

“Good Morning Mingi. Don’t mess around, someone could get hurt” he said without even looking in the young vampire’s direction.

Mingi got out of his hiding place, a surprised expression on his face.

“How?” he pouted.

Yeosang turned to his fellow vampire as he continues to walk backward.

“I have eyes to s…*thud*” There he was, on the floor. His butt hurting by the sudden fall, his drawing scattered everywhere around him. In front of him a misplaced footrest and Mingi contorted by his laugh.

“Hahaha! You should have seen your face” the young vampire said laughing at his victim.

“Mingi.” Yeosang got back on his feet. He brushed the dust from his jeans and shirt. He gathered his drawings, securing them on the coffee table near him then he calmly walked toward the prankster “I’m gonna kill you!”

Before Yeosang could get a hold of him, Mingi disappeared and teleport to the other side of the living room. The tall vampire leaned against the wall behind him, a cocky smile on his face.

“You’d have to catch me first pretty boy!”

Yeosang gave up, throwing his hands in the air. He gathered his papers, gave a last angry look at the young vampire, and stormed out of the living room to meet with the master.

“Are you bothering our dear Yeosang, Mingi?!?” a sweet and kind voice ask. Mingi left his position to walk toward the new incomer. The man was as tall as him, blond hair with darker root showing, beautiful features and piercing yellow eyes. He salutes Yeosang with a small bow and swat Mingi’s in the back of the head to scold him

“How many times have I told you not to bother the other members?” his voice was stern with a fatherly tone. Mingi let out a small groan before massaging the back of his head.

“Sorry Yunho.” He answered, “It just get boring when the others are out.”

Yunho listen to his brother with attention but didn’t answer. He understood that for a man who used to be super active in the past, being indoor almost everyday wasn’t something easy. But he couldn’t just let Mingi roam around town like the others, he was too vulnerable.

It happened about a year ago, while they were raiding a rival clan, Mingi almost got killed. Two rivals ambushed him and almost drank all his blood. Fortunately for Mingi, Yunho was able to get to him before he was dead. It took half a year for the young vampire to be able to walk again. He had never been able to fully recover as a vampire normally do. Till that day, Yunho is working day and night on a way to regenerate vampire’s blood cell quickly. For now, Mingi had to drink a special mix of blood to keep his strength and powers.

Yunho handed a small cup to his brother “Here, it’s time for your daily dosage”

The young vampire took the cup and drank the whole content in one shot. Yunho massage his brother’s neck lovingly and kissed his temple before going back to his lab. Alone once again in the middle of the silent living room, Mingi sat on the couch and sighed. Even if now he had 7 brothers, he never felt so alone in his life. He brought his long hand to his neck where, if you were paying enough attention, you could see the scar of a bite mark. He brushed it with his fingertips, remembering the night of the fight. Mingi hissed, the healed wound was still burning, he cursed, feeling extremely guilty. Angry, Mingi concentrated on a pile of books that was sitting on the coffee table and they went flying across the living room. He laid his long body on the couch and brought his arms under his head before closing his eyes, wishing he were outside with the others.

In the basement of the manor, at the end a long narrow hallway, loud hip-hop music was blasting into a stereo. Muffled behind the song, several thumping could be heard. In the middle of the room, illuminated by a few dim lights, a muscular young man was beating a hanged punching bag. His dark brown hair was sticking to his forehead as his sharp red eyes were concentrated on the un-moving target.

After his workout, Jongho sat on one of the benches in the room. A little veil of sweat was covering his shirtless upper body but somehow, he wasn’t feeling exhausted or out of breath, one thing he still wasn’t used to.

He untied the white bandages that were covering his hands and he massage his knuckles. Since he got transform, they felt bigger, stronger, rougher. He loved the feeling. He walked to the mirror in the room and looked at his reflection on the glass. The small pearls of sweat were slowly gliding down his tone chest muscles. With the faint lights of the place, it almost looked like he was sparkling. He frowned at the sight

“Urgh! I look like one of those Twilight pussies” he took a towel and wiped the sweat away.

The loud ring of his phone took his attention away from his figure. He took the small device in his hands and answered it.

“Yes Sir! I’ll be right up!” he hangs up and took his duffle bag before leaving the improvised gym in a hurry.

---

Sitting on the railing of the balcony, his feet dangling in the air, he was admiring the moon, the stars and the colors changing in the sky as the hours were passing by. The soft breeze of the night, slowly brushing in his silver locks made him hummed in appreciation. His dark brown eyes caught something moving a few miles away from the manors, his eyebrow cocked as he was trying to discern what it was.

His soft pink lips formed a tiny grin when he realized it was a stray cat walking down the street. So, they were not the only creatures of the night – he thought to himself amused.

The door of his room opened, and footsteps approached him. Yeosang stood behind him, his precious drawings in his hands. The silver haired vampire broke the unbearable silence

“I presume you’re not in my room, simply to admire my back!?!!” his voice was soft, almost like a sweet melody.

Yeosang hesitate a moment before moving closer to his master. He handed the drawings to the older vampire and cleared his throat.

“I got a vision Sir!”

At the same time, Jongho who took the time to change into more appropriate clothes walked in the room, as Seonghwa and San appeared in front of them.

The older vampire looked at the drawings attentively “Do you know anything about this man?” he asked Yeosang.

The young man shook his head “No, the only thing I know about him is his name. Pierce!”

“Pierce?!” Seonghwa walked forward and looked at the drawing in his master’s hands.

“Yes! He would be valuable for the other clan. Something to do with his blood” continued Yeosang

Seonghwa scoffed “Lunatics!”

The master drop off the railing on his balcony, he handed the drawing to Seonghwa

“I want you and San to investigate about this Pierce!”

“Understood!” the slender vampire bows to his master taking the drawing in his hand and passing it to San. The black haired vampire folded the drawing and put it in his jacket’s pocket

“On it, Sir!” he responded.

The master walked to Yeosang, he put a hand behind his neck, his long nails slowly dancing on the young vampire’s neck making him shiver at the sensation. The master leaned in and whispered in his ear

“You did good Horacle, keep me updated with any new visions.” To which Yeosang responded with a small nodded.

Seonghwa step forward, his hands in his back “Hongjoong, there was another attack tonight. Three Nightshades. They barely hid their crime.”

Hongjoong considered Seonghwa and San a moment, he sighed, bowing his head with sadness in his eyes

“Another victim?!” He turned to face the city, his delicate frame leaning on the railing of the balcony. He looked at the horizon, the streetlights slowly fading as the sun was about to rise. He remembered those nights, back in his younger vampire days, where he used to keep a victim for days. Treating them with love and care, like they deserved. Humans were not just food to him; they were a precious treasure to keep and cherish.

“Tonight, we’ll roam the streets. Remind the Nightshades this city belongs to us.” His voice was stern but still so soft, he turns back to his brothers “For now, get some rest my dearest, you’ve worked well. We’ll plan our night later”

Seonghwa, Yeosang and San bowed to their master before leaving the luxurious room. Jongho closed the door behind them and stood in front of it, like any bodyguard would do.

Hongjoong took his initial position, on the railing of the balcony, his eyes glued to the sky, he hummed a sweet lullaby as he watched the stars disappeared while the sun rises in the horizon.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“So this is the beginning of the serie. I hope you enjoy it so far! there’s more to come. Stay tune!!! 

All right reserved to DeadlyGoddess. DO NOT COPY or USE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

[lianadrayton]

@brooklynxcarver​

Liana had been somewhat hell-bent on getting rid of her Godforsaken Mercedes that was sitting parked in the tiny driveway. There wasn’t anything actually wrong with it... but it still reminded her of her ex-husband and that never sat right. So it had been scribbled on with window markers and had a FOR SALE sign on the dashboard. She had also managed to get it posted online, believing it would’ve been easier for her to attempt to sell it privately before deciding on a trade-in scenario. On that fine afternoon, Liana was outside, toiling beneath the burning hot Mississippi sun in her little garden out front. Salem had himself folded up in a blue, plastic kiddie pool that sat beneath the shade of a table umbrella. When someone pulled up, he stood slowly, peering over the short, white fence to see the person who was approaching. Liana got up and turned, offering a friendly wave. “Hi there,” she called out. “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

[lianascribbles]

Currently trying to see whether I can manifest the og trilogy for switch in HD by drawing Layton, so here’s my yearly Hersh portrait (sort of a redraw of. literally every other Hersh I have ever drawn).

[sassypandacandy]

Get to Know the Writer!

@power-of-ages-writeblr believed in me even when I was dead inactive due to Endgame spoilers. This is how I know I’m really back!

What genres do you write?

Mostly sci-fi and fantasy, because I love how both genres can open up the world to different possibilities. I’m not married to one subgenre in particular, but I do lean towards quirky, fast-paced writing that mixes the ridiculous and the painful.

What’s on your reading wishlist?

I have a Google Doc list of books, plus multiple wishlists on Book Depository. Top of the list is probably Kingdom of Copper by S. A. Chakraborty and Kingsbane by Claire Legrand (AKA sequels to books that I devoured).

Who is your favourite character from your current WIP?

Technically I’ve already moved on to a new draft of Fire and Lightning, so I’d say that my favorite character is probably Liana, one of the MC’s. She’s just so crotchety and impatient and ambitious and stupidly powerful, and she’s really fun to write. Fans of Cat from A Day Out of Time will probably really like her too.

What writing tropes do you like?

I love Odd Couple partnerships, or unexpected friendships. Stands to reason then that I’m a big fan of found family. I’m always a slut for the Strong, Silent, and Deadly type, especially when they go sappy over small animals.

What is the story behind your WIP’s name?

"Fire and lighting” is something that Liana threatens to rain down on her enemies! There are also several callbacks to it throughout the book.

Are you a pantser or a plotter?

Pantserrrrrrr. I’ll keep extensive notes, and I almost always know how it’s going to end, but other than that I just wing it.

Do you post your work somewhere?

My first two books are for sale here and here! I also have WIP pages for the third book, None But Us, and the first in my dark fantasy series, Bitter Dawn.

Do you also read/write fanfic? If yes, for the same genres as what you write?

I neither need nor write fanfic.

What is your favourite dessert? (Because why not.)

Most warm/cold combos, i.e. bread pudding, pie, or brownie with ice bream.

Tagging @scribble-dee-vee and @waterfallwritings!

[mosylufanfic]

By Any Other Name

Because I’m basically obligated to do a rock star AU at some point, right?

Send me a prompt for Nano!

By Any Other Name

Jyn liked this time of day in the Kyber, the grubby little bar she co-owned with her best friend. Early afternoon was a dip where the hardcore drinkers and the lunch crowd had all cleared out or been cut off, and the after-work crowd wasn't in yet. She used the time to catch up on paperwork and put on her favorite music. 

"You like this song?"

The voice came from the end of the bar, where their one customer of the moment was drinking a draft beer and scribbling on what looked like staff paper. A starving songwriter, she concluded, a dime a dozen in LA. 

"It's all right," she said, because it had only taken her the first shift as a bartender to realize that some guys would take a statement as innocuous as "this is my favorite song right now" and translate it to "please, take my body at your earliest convenience."

"It's just, you're singing along."

Had she been? Damn. Bodhi referred to her singing voice as the unholy love child of a rusty gate and a cat in heat. "Sorry."

He laughed. "No, it's fine." He had a nice smile, wide and bright, with dimples. Cute.

Also a dime a dozen in LA.

She shrugged and hit the buttons on her laptop to save her most current schedule. "It's catchy," she said. "I guess I do sing along when it comes on the radio."

The song ended and another began, with no deejays jabbering in between. And it was the next song on the artist's newest album. 

He raised a brow.

"Fine! The whole album's on my favorite playlist at the moment. It's good. All right? That what you wanted to know?"

He lifted both hands in a peaceable gesture, laughing again. "I’m not trying to interrogate you. That's just my favorite song from the album. The one you were singing along to."

“Yeah? Even though it's not the one that's the big hit or whatever?”

"That one's good too," he acknowledged. "But 'Built on Hope' is just - I like it better."

"Yeah."

He held out a hand. "Joreth."

She shook it briefly. "Liana," she said, giving him the name she went by behind the bar, to deter creepers and scammers. 

"Liana, that's pretty. What is that, a flower?"

"It's a sort of vine," she said - also her usual answer. "A strangling vine. It kills trees."

He laughed. "Killed any trees today?"

"Sadly, no, but the day is young."

At the other end of the bar, Bodhi cleared his throat, loudly. She glanced at him, saw he was doing the bottle count, and figured he'd just had a frog in his throat. 

"He's playing tonight, you know," Joreth said, pointing upward at the speaker. "Cassian Andor."

"Yeah, I heard. I've got to work. Plus tickets are an arm and a leg."

"Surely no more than a hand."

She grinned. "Whatever body part I'd have to give up, it'd be too much. Anyway, those big stadium shows aren't for me. All lights and screaming and shit." She shuddered. "Gives me a migraine."

He tipped his beer toward her. "I'm with you there. He's got another one tomorrow. An acoustic set at a little club."

That was more her speed. But she eyed him suspiciously. "What are you, his manager?"

He laughed again. The way his eyes crinkled was not something you often saw in LA, where wrinkles were the horror of half the town and the bane of the other half. "Something like that," he said. 

Bodhi cleared his throat again, louder. 

"Spit or swallow, Bodes," she called out to him, and turned back to the guy at the bar. "Well, if I'd known, maybe I would have scrounged up whatever favors I needed to go. But it's probably too late now."

“You never know.”

The door opened and a tall skinny man in a suit that cost more than her car came in. 

"ID," Jyn said automatically.

He eyed her. "I assure you I am of age, and anyway, I'm not here to imbibe." He marched up to Joreth. "You," he said balefully.

"Hi, Kay," Joreth said.

"You are late."

"I told you I was going to work on songs today."

"I thought you meant in your hotel room like a reasonable human being, not in some grimy dive bar."

"Hey," Bodhi and Jyn said in concert.

"It's not grimy," Joreth said. "It's very nice. Good beer." He drank the last of it and set his pint glass down.

Bodhi, who was in charge of ordering, looked mollified. Jyn narrowed her eyes at Kay.

Kay ignored her. "Come along."

"Hang on." Joreth swiped a line across the middle of his sheet music, wrote a quick string of notes, and a phrase, and then folded the papers into a leather portfolio and got up. "See you around," he said to Jyn, and left with his - friend? Minder? Captor?

Bodhi sidled up. "Do you remember," he said, "how as your lifelong best friend, I'm contractually obligated to let you know when you're being a human disaster?"

"What was disastrous about that?" Jyn asked, opening up her schedule, then remembering she'd finished it. Although if Shara couldn't get babysitting again - "We were talking about music."

"You were talking about Cassian Andor."

"Is this a don't-talk-about-dudes-with-other-dudes thing? Because if bringing up a pop star is a violation, that's awfully damn fragile."

Bodhi threw his hands in the air. "You were talking about Cassian Andor with Cassian Andor!"

"What?"

"And he was into you!"

"His name was Joreth,” she mumbled, still stuck on talking about Cassian Andor with Cassian Andor.

"Sure," Bodhi said. "And yours is Liana."

"But he - " She waved her hand in front of her face. "He had a beard. And a ball cap."

"Right, right, yeah, I forgot. Multi-platinum pop stars are physically incapable of growing facial hair, and putting on a ball cap when they might not want to be recognized."

She goggled into the near distance. "Oh my god, I'm a disaster."

"Well, I tried," Bodhi said.

She shoved him. "By coughing? What happened to sending me a text?"

"Your phone's dead. Again."

She picked it up and found it dark. "Oh, yeah."

He shook his head. "Seriously, there's no helping you."

The bar phone rang and Jyn reached for it. "The Kyber."

"May I speak to Liana?"

"Speaking."

"I represent Cassian Andor. He'd like to invite you to be his special guest at Club Yavin tomorrow night."

Jyn hung up.

"Scammer?" Bodhi said.

The phone rang again. "I assume we got disconnected," the person on other end said disdainfully. Now she could identify the voice of the tall skinny guy. "As I was saying, Cassian Andor would like you to join - "

"Yes, I heard you the first time," she said. "Is this a joke?"

"No joke, I assure you," said the rather bored voice. "Cassian is presently sitting across from me in the limo, making faces and gesturing wildly - "

"Kay!" said a strangled voice. 

"It is very distracting. Are you coming or not? If you leave him in suspense, he might have an aneurysm, and he has to play a show in five hours."

A groan loud enough for the phone to pick it up.

"Let me talk to him," Jyn said. 

"I am capable of giving you all the information you need - "

"Cassian," she snapped. "Now."

A minor scuffle, and then the voice of Joreth - no, Cassian - came over the line. "Hi."

"This how you get your jollies?" she demanded. "By picking up strange women in bars who don't recognize you?"

"It helped," he said. "Liana, I - "

"Jyn," she said. "It's Jyn."

"Jyn," he said. "And I'm Cassian."

"Yeah. Yeah, I figured that out."

"Well, what do you think? I'll send a car so you don't have to fight traffic, and we can get dinner after. Or drinks - or - "

She pursed her lips. "I dunno. It's been a long time since I went and saw a guy play guitar in a club. I might have something else to do."

Bodhi grabbed the phone. "She's coming. You can pick her up here. What time? Great. She'll be ready." He hung up. 

She punched him. "Bodes!"

"That was no time to play it cool, Jyn. You have a date with Cassian Andor, and he's totally into you." He looked thoughtful. "Also, pop star or not, he might be as much of a human disaster as you are."

FINIS

[ofauroradreams]

08.17.2277

          I  don’t  even  know  where  to  begin…

          I  can’t  believe  this  happened.    I  thought.    Well,  I  don’t  know  what  I  thought,  maybe  that  I  was  safe.    I  never  expected  to  end  up  HERE.

[unintelligible  scribblings]

          Okay.    My  name  is  Liana.    I’m  nineteen  years  old.    My  birthday  is  August  5th  and  I’m  an  only  child.    My  mom  died  when  I  was  young.    My  Dad  [scribbles]    I’ve  spent  my  entire  life  living  in  an  underground  vault.    Vault  101.    It’s  been  my  home,  my  life,  my  entire  EXISTENCE  for  the  last  nineteen  years  I’ve  been  alive.    Except  not  anymore.    As  of  this  morning,  I’ve  been  kicked  out.    Into  the  very  wasteland  it  was  supposed  to  be  protecting  me  from.

          You  see,  my  Dad’s  missing.    I  don’t  even  know  what  happened.    Amata  -  she’s  my  best  friend  -  she  woke  me  up  this  morning  in  the  middle  of  all  the  emergency  alarms  blaring.    And  then  she  gave  me  a  GUN.    Said  her  father  was  looking  for  me.    The  Overseer.    Because  Dad  has  left  the  Vault.    I  thought  she  was  joking.    She  wasn’t.

          I  don’t  understand.    Dad  never  told  me  anything  about  this.    I  never  knew  he  wanted  to  leave.    He  was  always  telling  me  how  safe  the  vault  was  and  how  important  it  was  to  be  a  good  member  in  the  community.    Contribute  to  the  work  and  be  good  to  people,  all  of  it.    And  all  of  a  sudden,  he’s  leaving  the  vault  -  our  home!  -  without  a  word.    To  me  at  least.    Oh  gosh,  Jonas.

          They  killed  him.    They  just  killed  him.    I’d  known  him  my  entire  life  and  now  he’s…

          They  think  he  helped  Dad  escape.    And  I  think  they’re  right.    I  found  this  holotape  on  his  body,  he  was  probably  supposed  to  give  it  to  me  before…    Oh,  gosh,  I  can’t  believe  this  is  happening!    Dad  was  leaving  me  a  message.    He’s  left,  like  properly  gone,  out  the  vault  into  this…  this  place.    He  didn’t  tell  me  anything  about  this,  I  swear  I  never  knew.    But  the  Overseer  thought  I  did.    They  were…  like  Jonas.    They  were  going  to  kill  me.    They  tried  to  kill  me.    They  actually  tried…

[unintelligible  scribblings]

          Dad  thought  I’d  be  safe.

[jeremystrele]

A Sophisticated Mid-Century Home In The Trees

A Sophisticated Mid-Century Home In The Trees

Homes

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

Joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Tiling from Tile Scheme. Walnut handle custom-made by The Arc Department. Photo – Sam Riles for Gritty Pretty.

Joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Lighting from Cult Design. Table from Freedom. Vintage chairs. Photo – Sam Riles for Gritty Pretty.

Homeowner Liana Shaw-Taylor. Lighting from Cult Design. Table from Freedom. Vintage chairs. Tiling from Tile Scheme. Photo – Sam Riles for Gritty Pretty.

Lighting from Cult Design. Table from Freedom. Vintage chairs. Tiling from Tile Scheme. Joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Walls painted in Dulux Deep Mooring. Concrete slab bench by Slabs by Design. Photo – Sam Riles for Gritty Pretty.

Lighting from Cult Design. Table from Freedom. Vintage chairs. Tiling from Tile Scheme. Joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Walls painted in Dulux Deep Mooring. Concrete slab bench by Slabs by Design. ‘Valley’ sofa by Jardan. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Lighting from Cult Design. Table from Freedom. Vintage chairs. Tiling from Tile Scheme. Joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Walls painted in Dulux Deep Mooring. Left photo – Damian Bennett. Right photo – Sam Riles for Gritty Pretty.

‘Valley’ sofa by Jardan. Armadillo and Co rug. Lamp by HAY. Vintage armchair. Vintage side-table with leftover kitchen tile on top. Cushions from Country Road and Sheet Society. Ms. Curtain curtains. Ottoman from Freedom. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Lounge room detail. Armadillo and Co rug. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Rattan detailing is present in cabinetry throughout the house. Bedhead joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Spark and Bell lights. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

This sunny doorframe is painted in Dulux Copper. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Muted shades of white, neutral brown, and sage offset the terracotta tiles and timber bedhead. Bedhead joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Spark and Bell lights. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Joinery by All Smart Kitchens. Lighting from Euroluce. Concrete Nation sink. Loom towels. HAY trays. Benchtop by Surface Gallery. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Tiling by TileScheme with tiles from Artedomus. Lighting from Euroluce. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Tiling by TileScheme with tiles from Artedomus. Lighting from Euroluce. Plant and pot from Domus Botanica. Photo – Damian Bennett for Tom Mark Henry.

Liana Shaw-Taylor, senior designer at Tone Studio, and James Shaw-Taylor, creative director for digital signage company Mandoe, spent years living in Sydney’s inner-eastern suburbs, but always knew they’d move north to Wahroonga to raise a family. 

After missing out on a nearby property at auction, Liana came across another house probably out of their price range, that she decided to inspect anyway.

‘I walked in and fell in love with the elevated view from the lounge. The trees! The quiet! We offered the owners an amount before the auction and they accepted! Couldn’t believe it,’ she says.

Liana and James engaged interior designers Tom Mark Henry to enlarge the space, without detracting from the home’s original mid-century sensibilities. Special attention was paid to maintaining original features such as the timber panelled ceilings and fabulous metal support beams throughout, and repurposing materials wherever possible. For instance, bricks salvaged on site were painstakingly cleaned by the family, to re-use for a modest new extension which now accommodates a new main bedroom and en suite. 

The updated interiors are the product of interior designers Tom Mark Henry, who splashed their design flair onto the plans and updated the shapes, surfaces and colour scheme. ‘I had a few too many wacky ideas and began to feel overwhelmed by the possibilities. Their guidance and expertise was invaluable,’ says Liana.

This new colour palette ranges from deep greens to terracotta, golden amber, and aqua blue, (Dulux Copper, Deep Mooring, and Frontier Fort among them), without overpowering the space. 

Curves in the home’s doorways, kitchen island, cabinetry handles, mirrors and bathroom joinery have also been introduced, in a playful departure from the horizontal lines common to mid-century design.

Some of these design choices came with unexpected consequences (‘We had to reinforce the floor underneath to accommodate the weight of our beautiful Gather Co. tiles’ says Liana), but all have resulted in this thoroughly delightful home. 

When the couple’s children John and Penelope (currently 3 and 1) get a little older, Liana has plans to introduce even more changes – this time tackling renovations without being pregnant and having a toddler in tow!

‘While my kids are young I am enjoying the fact they can dance on the coffee table, accidentally (on purpose) scribble on the dining table, and drive their trucks on the walls. Get back to me in five years and I’ll show you the before and after of toddlerhood!’

[toxoplasmajuice]

bloop! (idc who but if you don't know who to go for i'm always #thorsty for some angel facts)

(this is more about the camisades as a whole + others but)

y’know how bailey harvest was CONVINCED the camisades were blue? before erica could see color, *they* were convinced the camisades were green (and liana arboret was orange). the siblings had so many arguments about this. *don’t ask.*

angel answered all questions about this from them by scribbling in black crayon. that obviously didn’t help, since the harvests were still colorblind

[the-life-we-fear]

Liana was actually disappointed when she saw that he didn’t make a move to come over to talk with her. Her shoulders tended slightly as she glanced at the student that decided to sit next to him. Her teeth lightly grazed the inside of her cheek. Why was she getting so worked up about him. She swallowed, glancing back down at her notebook, slowly beginning to scribble on the page.

And So the Lamb fell in love with the Lioness ~

Human!Edward AU / Vampire!Liana

Starter for @the-life-we-fear

New school again, new faces, it was enough to get under Edwards skin. He disliked how much his family moved around sometimes but that was his fathers work after all and he had to be thankful for the life it had given them. But starting a new school was probably one of the most irritating parts of it all, he hated small talk with people he quite frankly didn’t care much for. He knew by the end of the day he would end up just shrinking into the corner of the classroom like he usually did. Of course there was already whispering and murmuring about the new kid. His first few classes went smoothly, but his last class was English which sounded like a pleasant way to end the day as Edward was a huge literature fan. He settled at the back of the classroom ignoring the glancing eyes of the girls in the class, Edward just looked out the window trying to ignore their obvious attempts to grab his attention, could this day get any worse?