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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

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Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 30

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29]

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan @rebleforkicks @yjrevolution @majahu @honey-wine @accio-boys @achromaticerebus @solomonssimp @tired-ass-show-girl @dreamlessnight @daddy-long-legolas @sleepyamygdala @coopsgirl @penguinlovestowrite @midsommar-nights @whore-of-many-hot-men

“They have killed one of our own!” Vermund hollered from on high, pointing down at the dead body of the baker. “They have declared war!” Never mind the fact that he had riled all of these men up and brought them before the gates for no other reason but to attack. Never mind the fact that it was technically his fault the baker was dead. “Fight, men! Fight!”

Thranduil was completely rattled, not that it showed. He had more self control than that. However, the sight of humans in his realm, uninvited and armed, sent a rage through his blood that could not be quelled by mere talking.

The one who was yelling seemed to be in charge and Thranduil could already tell that this man had absolutely no honour in him. Using one of his own as a human shield! He was no better than an orc and Thranduil was disgusted.

“Tauriel!” He barked as the angry cries from the townsfolk behind him grew into a roar. “Get her out of sight.”

As his soldiers had surrounded their distracted king, moving between him and the group of armed men, Thranduil had taken you by the hand and all but dragged you towards his captain of the guard, who was standing beside Legolas. You had not noticed either of them in the commotion that had taken over when the humans approached.

“Thranduil!” You cried out, but he spared you no more than a glance before turning towards his son as Tauriel pulled you away back inside.

Thranduil and Legolas had followed but they veered off a different way, towards a staircase so they could ascend to wherever Vermund was. Your eyes never left Thranduil as he thundered up the stairs with a group of his people, pausing at the top for just a millisecond to seek you out in the crowd below. Satisfied you would be safe, Thranduil turned once more and disappeared from sight.

Tauriel pulled you towards a set of stairs that led down instead of up. You could hear the fighting outside at the gates and your heart was hammering in your chest. What was happening?! This wasn’t right, none of this was supposed to happen. Why was Vermund inside? What was he doing? You turned your frantic attention fully back to Tauriel, realising she had taken you down into the wine cellar.

“I’m sorry.” You found yourself saying to her, peering anxiously at the stairs you had both just descended.

Tauriel turned to look at you, her beautiful eyes full of confusion. “For what, my lady?”

“That you have been relegated to babysitting me instead of defending your own home from intruders.” You muttered, wringing your hands in frustration. “Intruders that I seem to have brought here.” She is the Captain of the guard! You thought. This must feel so beneath her.

Tauriel moved so that she was standing in front of you, lifting her hands to your upper arms to hold you in place. You blinked back at her. “Do not apologise.” She said firmly. “It is my honour.”

At your disbelieving expression, she gripped your arms a little more tightly. “My lady, if the King has chosen me to guard you... be assured that you are very important to him. That he thinks you very precious indeed. He would have no harm come to you and he knows that I shall let none.”

You didn’t realise you were crying until Tauriel reached up and swiped away your tears. You thought back to the festival, mere hours ago. Dancing with Thranduil, him sweeping the two of you away from the party to be alone, the mirror, the kiss... you knew Thranduil was a great warrior, you had seen it and you had read many things in the history books in the library over your time here. You knew he was no real match for mere mortals... but still you worried. Vermund was here and he did not play fair. You had seen rage in his eyes when he had shouted down from that balcony... he had the look of a man who would do anything.

Your thoughts were swept away as the clanging sound of sword upon sword came closer and Tauriel moved to push you behind a large barrel.

“Stay down.” Was all she managed to mutter before the cellar was infiltrated.

Thranduil had taken his son and his closest guards with him up the stairs. He didn’t know exactly how many other men this infiltrator had up here with him but he decided that the majority of their force needed to stay at the gate. The amount of men inside these halls could not outnumber the amount that stood before them.

When they reached the balcony, however, it was empty. There was not another being in sight and Thranduil was beyond angry. Where were they? He could not allow them to wander these halls unchecked, armed to the teeth, intent on fighting his people and taking you away against your will.

...was it against your will? He had technically set you free and your father was in trouble, unwell. Perhaps you would not be so averse...

Thranduil dismissed such thoughts quicker than he might have in the past, however. He thought back to the way you had clung to him down at the gates. The way you had been so eager to defend him and his people. The way you had seemed to balk at the appearance of that man.

His thoughts returned to the present moment and he whirled around, stalking back through the halls. “Find them!” He commanded in a growl, his fury sky-high as his guards scattered to hunt down the interlopers. “Kill them all.”

Vermund had ordered his men to scatter the moment the fighting had broken out. He needed to find a way to get the king alone and he needed to find you, in whichever order they presented themselves to him. Vermund needed all the distraction he could get. His men would keep the elves who were no doubt on their way up here busy.

Creeping through unfamilar hallways, his trusty sword at the ready, Vermund was fully alert and fully ready for whatever came his way. However, he seemed to rather easily have escaped most of the fighting so far, leaving it to the other townspeople... and sending those who had climbed up here with him to their doom to give himself a headstart and a distraction.

He came upon a half-hidden red doorway and, curious, Vermund pushed his way inside. Maybe he could find something expensive to steal while he waited for his chance to slay the Elf King.

Vermund could not have known that this doorway was one of the many entrances that connected the king’s private halls to the late queen’s. Nor could he know that the blackened rose he happened upon in one of the rooms beyond the door was so important to the king. He made a face at it before he turned and knocked the whole thing off the table, letting the glass case that enclosed the dead Starfire Rose smash to pieces against the marble floor. Its protective barrier vanishing as the rose turned to ashes and blew away in the breeze that blew in through the open window.

“You have just made a most grievous error.” A low, dangerous, voice rang out behind him.

Vermund whipped around from where he had turned to start stuffing his bag and pockets with the expensive looking jewels he had found on the nearby dresser.

Standing there before him was the King himself, armour-less, one of his twin swords in hand, narrowed gaze practically hot enough with anger to have burned through Vermund’s very skin like dragon fire.

Tauriel spun in place, thrusting her sword in front of her as a group of men came at her, outnumbering her and yet she fought tirelessly, moving with a grace that nearly had you mesmerised.

First she tried not to land a killing blow, under the impression that these people held beliefs that were not entirely their fault, but soon she was focused only upon keeping you safe and ridding the halls of the realm she loved and defended from the enemies at the door.

You had ducked behind the barrel when she had told you to but you couldn’t resist peeking out, registering some of the faces as familiar. The horsemaster’s son, the butcher’s brother. This was awful, why was this happening? Your two worlds had collided in the most violent of ways and all you wished was for everybody to understand, to cease this fighting, to come to peace.

“There she is!” The butcher’s brother cried out and, with alarm, you realised that he was pointing directly at you. “Get her! Quick!”

His words were cut off by Tauriel’s sword slicing through his leg. A cry left his lips as he fell to the floor but the other men had already heard and were turning their attentions to you. Tauriel, who would let no one near the king’s beloved, moved once more to stand directly in between you and the group of men who had started to make for your hiding place.

“My lady!” She shouted over her shoulder, swinging her weapon and preventing one from getting around her. “To the back of the room and out! Now! Go!”

Fuelled by dread the likes of which you had only felt when Thranduil found you in the West Wing the first time, you turned instantly and moved to the back of the room. There, behind a deep blue curtain, you found a doorway cut into the wall.

Glancing over your shoulder for just a moment, you pushed your way past the curtain and fled, running up the staircase, leaving Tauriel to take down the rabble of humans as easily as if she were cutting through shrubbery.

Thranduil stood, the tip of his sword pointed directly at Vermund’s chest. He had advanced slowly, moving with deadly ease, slow and deliberate.

“Who are you, who dares enter my domain, intent on attacking those who have never done a thing to you and yours.” Thranduil’s voice was level but there was a dangerous bite to it that was impossible to ignore, even for one as arrogant and conceited as Vermund.

He narrowed his own gaze back at Thranduil, lifting his chin defiantly. A coward though he may be, Vermund saw this creature as one of his greatest enemies in so short a time. He had seen the way you had latched onto this king by the gates, the way your face had fallen when you had seen Vermund himself. You were not locked away in a dungeon as your father had proclaimed you to be. Instead, you walked amongst these animals as though you were one of them, defended them as though they deserved it.

The evil sprite had obviously beguiled you with his dark magic. He wanted you for himself. Vermund would not allow it.

“One who would slay you where you stand, elf.” Came the reply, his tone a challenge all its own. “Vermund, son of Veraith. You will return what belongs to me or I will take it from you... in both scenarios, your life ends.”

Thranduil glared down at this man, the dangerous silence stretching as he regarded this villain. Vermund. Oh, yes, he knew of him alright. He recalled every word you had said about him. The way he sought to own you, hang you like an ornament at his side. The insistent way in which he had badgered you, wearing you down, demanding your hand again and again. He had seen the disgust in your eyes and, while you had assured him nothing horrific had happened at Vermund’s hand... Thranduil did not believe that would last. He knew of men such as this.

If there was a monster in this room, it was not himself, but the man who stood before him.

Thranduil sneered at him, pressing the blade a little harder into his chest. “Big words for such a small man, Vermund son of Veraith.”

With that, Thranduil moved to bring his sword back, preparing to bend into a swing. He wanted to end this, once and for all. He wanted this filth out of his halls - out of his wife’s chambers - and he wanted to take you to your father and bring the both of you back to the safety of these halls. Your village was clearly full of deranged imbeciles.

What Thranduil had not counted on was the other man hiding in the next room, back pressed against the hard wall around the open entryway, sword clasped firmly in front of him. He crept out as Thranduil had been speaking, his focus fixed upon Vermund. It was only at the last moment, as Vermund’s gaze shifted minutely from Thranduil’s face to the approaching man behind him and a small smirk crept onto his features, did Thranduil realise something was amiss.

He twisted his spin into a larger one, turning fast and hard upon the man behind him. Oeric raised his sword high, steel clashing upon steel, as his weapon met the Elvenking’s. Thranduil was staring down at him with contempt, practically snarling. “And who, pray tell, are you?”

“The distraction I needed.” Vermund said from behind him, leaping forward and giving Thranduil a massive shove. The action, mostly due to being so unexpected, sent Thranduil stumbling forward slightly. His sword moved with him, slicing through Oeric’s flesh like it was butter.

Vermund, seeing his supposed best friend as simply collateral damage in his rearview, turned and fled.

Thranduil, angry as a thunderstorm, stalked back out to the gates, where the fighting had now ceased. He saw the humans surrounded by his army but he was unfocused, his gaze flickering wildly around him. He was looking for that wretch, Vermund.

After the man had escaped him, Thranduil had dragged Oeric’s body from his wife’s chambers, and then scoured the entire floor, intent on finishing this once and for all. Trouble was, the man was now simply nowhere, and Thranduil’s anger would not be mitigated. He longed to carve into Vermund’s flesh and make a feast of him for the crows.

“Father.” Legolas approached, putting away his arrows and scanning the crowd that remained.

“Report.” He commanded his son, his gaze still flashing around the mob of humans now fully under control. Legolas gave him a brief rundown, assuring that the upper levels were clear. The men that were left were given a mercy, allowed to live so long as they fled this very moment and never again returned. The Elvenking made them understand in no uncertain terms that, if he were to ever set sights on any of them again, he would personally put to an end to their miserable little lives.

He turned back to his son as the humans fled into the forest, ignoring the fact that they were heading the wrong way. Getting a little lost in the darkness of Mirkwood was no less than they deserved. Still... he would send a couple of spies after them at some point, to make sure they did not perish... once he had cooled down.

He noted that Vermund was not amongst them.

Thranduil said your name then, turning from his son to scan around, seeking you in the crowd. “Where is she?” This directed at Legolas but his son could only shrug, having not seen you. He, too, turned to look around but you were nowhere to be seen.

“My King!” Tauriel’s voice rang out, loud and clear over the heads of his people. She came running from inside, having witnessed the entire thing. “He has taken her into the forest!”

Thranduil’s heart nearly stopped as he turned from Tauriel, unable to hide the dismay on his face, as he stared at the thick expanse of trees before him.

All that stood before him saw in the king’s eyes the heartbreak and the fear that coursed through him at the thought of that monster taking you away, and they recalled a similar expression upon his face the day his queen had been ripped from him and he had been unable to prevent it.

Without another thought or word, he moved, disappearing into the forest at speed.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #beauty and the beast

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paperanddice · 4 months

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Pubs, breweries, and wine cellars of all kinds may attract the attention of a small, alcoholic fey known as a clurichaun. Mean-spirited and rude, these former leprechauns have descended into pure debauchery, seeking to go deep into the drink at all hours, singing off-key drinking songs and tormenting hosts and guest alike. If the drunken fey can be kept satisfied however, it will act as an incredibly loyal and aggressive defender of its new home, driving off thieves, gremlins, and pests thoroughly.

They may be quite capable brawlers despite their two foot height, but they much prefer to use some magic to confuse and distract rivals, laughing and jeering at anyone who falls under their spell. Worst of all, once the spells wear off the target is left feeling hungover (no mechanical effect of that, fortunately for you). They are very unlikely to get into a fair fight on their own, instead usually jumping in during a raging brawl to cause chaos, and limiting actual battles to single targets they're confident in defeating.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Clurichaun Creature 0 Tiny Fey Perception +5; low-light vision Languages Common, Elvish, Sylvan Skills Acrobatics +5, Athletics +7, Intimidation +7, Stealth +5, Alcohol Lore +4 Str +1, Dex +1, Con +3, Int +0, Wis -1, Cha +3 Items bottle of alcohol (×3) AC 13; Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +3; +2 status to all saves vs. poison HP 20; Weaknesses cold iron 2 Liquid Courage When the clurichaun drinks any alcohol, it becomes immune to being frightened for 10 minutes. Speed 25 feet Melee fist +5 (agile, nonlethal), Damage 1d4+3 bludgeoning Melee bottle +5 (fatal d8), Damage 1d4+3 bludgeoning plus Shatter Ranged bottle +5 (fatal d8, thrown 10 feet), Damage 1d4+1 bludgeoning plus Shatter Primal Innate Spells DC 15, attack +7 ; 2nd calm emotions; 1st befuddle, charm, illusory object, item facade, mending (at will), purify food and drink, sleep; cantrips (1st) daze, ghost sound, puff of poison Shatter If the clurichaun scores a critical hit with a bottle Strike, the bottle shatters and gains the broken condition. The target takes 1 persistent bleed damage, and while the bottle has the broken condition it deals slashing damage instead of bludgeoning. The bottle can't be repaired.

13th Age

Clurichaun Weakling 1st level troop [humanoid] Initiative: +4 Liquor Bottle +6 vs. AC - 2 damage. Critical Hit: The target also takes 2 ongoing damage. Thrown Weapon: The clurichaun can make a liquor bottle attack as a ranged attack against a nearby enemy. R: Alcohol Fumes +6 vs. PD (one nearby enemy) - The target is dazed until the end of its next turn. Natural Attack Roll Higher Than the Target’s Wisdom: The target is confused instead of dazed. Limited Use: 1/battle, recharges if the clurichaun spends an action drinking alcohol. AC 15 PD 17 MD 11 HP 14

#pathfinder 2e #13th age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #fey #pathfinder level 0 #13th age level 1 #long post #tome of beasts

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count-alucard-tepes · 1 year

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Headcanons for my One Piece hotties: What their bedrooms look like

Kizaru✨

His bedroom would have a custom bed that would be over ten feet tall to fit this guy. He likes warm colors so dark mahogany wood furniture and cream bedding and curtains. He’d have large walk in closet for all his fabulous suits.

Akainu🌋

He would have a modern Japanese style bedroom, he doesn’t like to hurt his back by sleeping on the floor so he does have a custom made bed. He keeps the colors neutral and even has a plant that he grew himself in his bedroom. The doors of his bedroom open to face the garden.

Ryokugyu 🌱

He’d have a dark green themed bedroom which has dark wooden floors and furniture. He does have a few plants in his bedroom and the room is well lit because he needs a lot of sunlight in the mornings to feel like himself.

Fujitora 🐅

He has a pretty simple bedroom as he doesn’t see the need to have anything extravagant as long as it’s comfortable that’s all the matters to him. He does prefer a simple Japanese style bedroom.

Sir Crocodile 🐊

He favored a dark and sexy bedroom with large windows that look out at the desert. He has a walk in closet attached to his room which

Doflamingo Donquixote 🦩

His bedroom would definitely be having the beautiful ocean view and a balcony where he could sit out and watch the sunset. He likes warm colors throughout his home. His bedding is of the finest quality and he has a little wine cellar tucked away there too.

Benn Beckman 🔫

He likes a simple and clean bedroom with light colors and wooden floors. He likes that he has a view of the countryside from his bedroom and it puts him in a real good mood when he wakes up.

Katakuri Charlotte 🍡

He has a bedroom with high ceilings for obvious reasons and a very cozy bed so when he lay on it, it feels like a marshmallow (probably made out of it too). He likes a blend of light and dark colors with large windows so that his room is brightly lit.

Killer🔪

He likes a simple and rustic style bedroom with warm colors that isn’t too much for him to deal with. He just wants to rest there and then he leaves so he doesn’t put too much effort into making it too special.

Kaido🐉

He likes something simple but still a little bit classy with high ceilings. He never really had much luxury in his life so he does enjoy having that when he goes to rest if he can make it to his room at the very least. He wanted strong wood floors and huge bed that could handle his weight. He didn’t care for the coyotes as long as he had a balcony to step out on, it was fine.

King👑

He would have a bedroom that was dark and sexy (like him omg King) with selected artworks that he found when he travelled to different lands. The bedding needs to be high quality so that they don’t hurt his sensitive wings and fire proof too. He has a bookshelf with several books that he’s currently reading.

Queen👑

He would have a bedroom that is comfortable for the ladies and himself. He definitely would have a jacuzzi to entertain his company when he has them around. He likes dark colors and super comfy blankets.

Izou🔫🔫

He likes a simple and elegant room with a feminine touch to it. He definitely has a walk in closet where he stores all his beautiful kimonos and make up. He has several floor length mirrors in his room so that he can see himself in different angles.

Dragon D Monkey🐉🐒

He wanted something that still had quite a bit of light coming in and a comfortable bed that doesn’t hurt his bad. He likes neutral colors that don’t stand out too much. He also has some chairs in there so that he could sit and read from time to time.

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boxwinebaddie · 3 months

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Hi Nina! I'm sorry you're feeling so low :< and I know you're not really up for answering HC questions, but whenever you are I was just wondering: Are all the chars genderbent in TKAK?

hello, sweet pea! you are so wonderful, thank you for checking in. <3

feeling fresh as a daisy! or a wound. haha, jk! :)

i am going to try and pull myself up by the laces of my new pink docs, put on a brave face, be kind to myself and take it easy if i can. i truly hope i do not get verbally eviscerated today, but you never know.

anyways! *rises from the deepest and darkest throes of my depression to answer this tkak question bc i am insane* hskdlasks

to which i will also say...No, Actually? for starters, i just think it would be super complicated to try and flip-flop quite literally everyone ( plus i already left randy/sharon/shelley as their respective south park genders ) but i also think all the other characters just...work the best as their OG genders? ( save for the ones that May change them )

for example, in tkak, the main three...

( does not include kenny because kenny is princess kenny, who is, ofc, a girl in tsot/tkak and uses she/her <3 ily princess kenny mWAH )

...are butters, stas and craig. :')

i fucking love them so much, ohhh my god.

ODD SQUAD RISE!!!

stas really did...

…round up all the weird lil misfit kupa keep boys lmao.

so butters, stas has been looking out for since they were little bc he's very meek and soft-spoken. the kk boys are really, really cruel to him, bully/beat him up often, generally give him hell. so stas gives it right back usually! not with her fists ofc! she's a pacifist <3 ( though i do think she could beat all of their asses lmao ) and just uses her words.

she is very convincing, forthright and is a natural born leader tbh. so the boys usually fuck off when she comes around and once they go, she checks on butters all concerned, sighs gently, then checks him for broken bones and bruises. he is her special guy, who Does start in tkak as butters but, as we know, all my butters are just marjorine in a misleading boy font ( ew ) so keep your One Eye out for that. ;)

so stas will not throw a punch but...craig...Deeeefinetly will lmao.

because of the undiagnosable medieval autism, people think craig is really weird bc he's super quiet and when he does speak, it's in a monotone and hes usually super rude/out of pocket. ily craig. but yeah, no, he will beat ur ass, frfr. he cracks his knuckles and all the rowdy lil gang boys are like ahhh hell no!! RUN! & think he is a freak.

stas likes him v much tho <3 :* also bc craig is super mega gay and was the one boy who Didn't proposition her hand in marriage. they do think about getting betrothed a lot just to avoid the mess of their parents constantly trying to get them married off haha. btw he is still rogue!craig and pickpockets/pilfers things often. stas does shake her head at him 25/8 because Tis Dishonorable, Craig! which is seriously ironic given her current situation, but when he does steal wine and stuff from the tavern cellar...she does not refuse it. lmaooooo.

speaking of being super mega gay tho, in tkak, wendy is gwendolyn :) she just goes by wendy, stas is uhhhh...Enchanted by her. helppp. wendy is constantly like messing up her hair, gives her The Business but thinks its endearing that she's always running amok with all the boys in her dad's pants & once made a joke ( it was a lil too real tho ) abt how if she were Going to take a husband, she'd hope very much that they be like stas and that it really is a terrible shame she's a girl.

WHICH???? HELLLLOOOOOO???? anyways stas is like Ohh My God not impure thoughts abt women and temptations of the flesh AGAIN!! fuck my entire life lmaooo!!! stas has had a rlly stressful long haul lowkey gay crush on wen since they were little kids, its such a mess, & craig Regularly makes fun of her for it BOO!!! she's all blushin and sputterin like Shut Thy Mouth Tucker Before I Put Mine Lips Upon Yours!!! and does chase him around making crazy kissing noises w/ craig retching like STAY BACK DEMON LMAOOO!!!

anyways....live laugh love tkak, stas n the boys n gwendy.

-uncle nina, who is un-sadgirling to answer this ask.

p.s. please note that quite literally every stas/wendy interaction goes something like this:

stas being like Oh God She Approaches, How Doth My Hair Look? and craig says...like you haven't washed it in three days time. and shes like FUUUUCK but butters is like it is Fine, stas! just be emboldened in your words!! tryin to smooth out her shirt n shit ohhh my god. then wendy gets there like good evening, craig, butters...

anastasia ;) and stas is like HJSjahahaha! smood schmeving smendy ( RIP she could not speak ) ft craig abt to lose it laughing and butters trying to shush him but lmao it gets Worse bc then stas tries to save it all like your, uh...frock looks rather Fetching in the moonlight! particularly the bodice NOT THAT I WAS LOOKING UPON IT ( heelp ) it just fell within my eyeline & i thought to tell you it was...Pleasing?

( ohhhh my god stas please ) and wendy was like -squints fondly- ah...well, thank you, stas? i think? truly, i was not at all troubled by its appearance and composition, but i am glad you find it, erm, pleasing? to your...honorable and unwandering...eyes? either way, i shall sing the seamstress your high praises and see you all on the morrow. <3 but before i depart...wendy legit leans in and stas is abt to throw up i'm not even joking bc wendy is sooo close to her face...

...then just pulls a leaf out of her hair like i found this nested in your hair and thought you might wish it banished from you and stas is like AHAHAHA YES WOW MANY THANKS SEE YOU ON THE MORROW GWENDOLY--and like leans back to try and look cool and eats shit on a barrel SMHHHHH and craig and butters are making fun of her so hard like yOuR fRocK iS veRy PleAsinG SchmEndoLyn and stas is like ohmygodddd shutupshutshutSHUTUUUP ALAS!!! i am Ruined boys! that was more despairing than death! a hundred times worse than HELL! later, i shall craft a sword and Fall Upon It, but for tonight, craig, please tell me you have procured some ale. i wish to drown my endless sorrows in it ;-;;; IM CRYING GIRL FAIL STAS!!!

#thank u for ur kind words friend i am doing my best #but yeah no all the other chars start tkak as their og genders in sp but you know...you never know...the winds of change are in the air #listen tho!!! i love stas and the boys so bad theyre soooo funny they are giving eren mikasa and armin if uve seen aot #they are truly so funny they are such legends and icons #medieval odd squad RISE #also not stas' gay ass crush on wendy and her constantly crying and throwing up its so unserious #THAT JOKE WAS A LITTLE TOO REAL WENDY LIKE MAN OH MY GOD STAS THOUGHT ABT THAT FOR MONTHS #craig and butters pointing and laughing she is like i wish i killed ppl bc both of you would be first!!! shes had ENOUGH #SHUT UP TUCKER BEFORE I PUT MINE LIPS UPON URS and craig being like EWEWEWEW shadlksad they do drink stolen mead on rooftops together <3 #they do also bond abt having fucked up families/childhoods also i fucking love them so much i am passionate abt them #stas trying to talk to wendy is so funny i am dead shes so dramatic like I Am Going To Fall Upon My Sword Pls Fetch Me The Ale #so unserious shes soooooo dramatic im KHDKSLHd #NOT THAT I WAS LOOKING UPON IT LIKE OHJHHHH MY GOOOOODD IM CRYING #stas like boys do not jest or i will Throw Myself From The Belltower #and craig is like Make Haste HAHAJSSKS MAAAN #THE DISRESPECT #stas threatening to k word herself after every failed wendy interaction is too real

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nocompromise-noregrets · 8 months

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Tour My Bookshelf

Thank you @spiced-wine-fic for the tag! <33333

An estimate of how many physical books I own: No idea. Probably into the hundreds, but many many fewer than I used to; I've had two or three huge clearouts in the last few years because I just had more books than space, and a whole load I was never going to read or read again. The older I get, the more I need to clear things out every now and then - I come from a family of low-level hoarders and it took me at least 15 years of being a professional archivist and learning how to appraise collections to be able to appraise my own stuff. Now, having loads of stuff really makes me antsy and anxious - I think I've just had to deal with too many huge, unmanageable collections, and having to dig gardener-lady's mouldering papers out of a damp cellar with only four days to do it really did leave its mark.

Favorite author: J R R Tolkien, Neil Gaiman, Sharon Penman

A popular book I've never read and never intend to read: Pretty much any book that's popular on Tumblr. I haven't read a new book for years because I haven't had the mental energy, and I still don't.

A popular book I thought was just meh: I'm sure there are several, but it's been so long since I've read a book I can't actually remember. I HATED American Psycho though; I tried to read it about 25 years ago and just could not get past the self-obsession and downright boring lists of brand names. Apparently it's some clever satire but I found it absolutely insufferable.

Longest book I own: Probably LotR, or History of Middle-Earth.

Longest series I own all the books to: The Chalet School series by Elinor M Brent-Dyer - something like 64 books. They're all in a box in the loft because I haven't got room for them downstairs.

Prettiest book I own: A facsimile of Thomas Malory's Morte d'Arthur illustrated by Aubrey Beardsley

A book or series I wish more people knew about: Sharon Penman's Welsh Princes trilogy, and in fact all the rest of her work.

Book I'm reading now: Still rereading LotR (started Fellowship last September, am finally onto Two Towers), but I'm not actually picking it up to read very often.

Book that's been on my TBR list for a while but I still haven't got around to it: Too many to list; I've been buying books but not reading them for at least ten years at this point. It makes me anxious and stressed; I feel like I should be reading (everyone else still is!) but I just can't concentrate.

Do you have any books in a language other than English: Various in German, and a couple in Finnish.

And lastly, paperback, hardcover or ebook? Paperback. Hardbacks are too heavy and bulky, and I just don't like ebooks. I had a Kindle, used it about twice, and then it went in a drawer; the screen is too small for the way I read (whole bunches of lines at once, rather than word by word so I was at the end of the screen in a split second and needing to press 'next' where book pages contain much more text and take longer)

Tagging anyone who wants to do this! :D :D :D

#tag game

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courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme · 3 months

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Notorious (1946, Alfred Hitchcock)

25/01/2024

Notorious is a 1946 film directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

In 2001 the American Film Institute placed it 38th on its list of the 100 best thrillers and horror films of all time, and in 2002 it placed 86th on its list of the 100 best romantic films of all time. In 2006 the film was chosen for preservation in the National Film Registry of the United States Library of Congress.

Miami, Florida.

The next morning the stranger reveals his identity to Alicia: he is the secret agent T. R. Devlin and she contacted her on behalf of the United States Government, to ask her to participate in a mission to Brazil, aimed at unmasking a pro-Nazi plot. Alicia, in love and eager to redeem her family's honor, decides to accept and leaves with him for Rio de Janeiro.

The agent discovers that the cellar is where the uranium ore in wine bottles is hidden.

However, he can no longer bear the torment that the role he has taken on causes him and asks to be transferred to Spain.

David O. Selznick sold the screenplay, actors, and director to RKO for eight hundred thousand dollars and fifty percent of the profits.

David O. Selznick, during the filming of Spellbound, had proposed to Hitchcock a story entitled The Song of the Dragon by John Taintor Foote. A previous film had already been made from the story, Convoy, directed in 1927 by Joseph C. Boyle and Lothar Mendes (the latter uncredited).

Hitchcock was joined on the screenplay by Ben Hecht, who also wrote the screenplay on the previous film Spellbound.

Ingrid Bergman plays the female protagonist; it was a choice strongly desired by Hitchcock himself. The actress had just played the role of Dr. Constance Peterson in Spellbound and it was therefore her second collaboration with the British director; with Hitchcock she will get another leading role playing Lady Henrietta in the film Under Capricorn.

Cary Grant plays the male protagonist, the policeman Devlin, also, after Suspicion, in his second collaboration with Hitchcock, with whom he would work twice more in the following decade: in North by Northwest and To Catch a Thief.

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pan-flute-skeleton · 3 months

Note

6, 24, 25 for those personal asks!

6. Describe your dream home.

In the mountains, far the fuck away from everyone. A more thought out library, a master bedroom with a king bed, two bathrooms, a kitchen with granite counters and a walk in pantry. A wine cellar would be cool too.

24. What are three places you want to travel?

Bergen, Norway, the Pacific Northwest and Palanga, Lithuania

25. Describe your perfect Friday night.

That definition has changed so many times over the years. In my age right now, the perfect Friday would be getting home from work, having enough energy to do a load of laundry, order pizza from my favorite place or make it myself and watch YouTube all night

List

#ask games #answered

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ndfan3 · 9 months

Text

Nancy’s AI Adventure, Part 1

Nancy knew she had taken a chance coming here alone. No one knew she was at Cafe Malmaison’s wine cellar, checking the batch numbers with her magnifying glass against her notes. Bess and George were still exploring the restaurant’s export activity on the internet and Carson Drew was not even in River Heights: her father was in Virginia, representing a local politician accused of electoral fraud. Nancy was on her own, but at this moment the girl sleuth did not mind. She had counted off over 25 barrels all with duplicate numbers to batches that had already been exported to Europe. She was very close to cracking this mystery and proving Malmaison was a front for a drugs smuggling ring and that its charismatic owner, Jean-Paul DuPont, was its mastermind. ‘One or two photographs, then I can get back to the girls,’ mused Nancy aloud, lowering her magnifying glass. As she reached into her coat for her phone the young detective suddenly noticed a black shape lying incongruously on top of one of the barrels. Ever curious and on the look out for clues, the girl detective wandered over to the mysterious object. When she reached it, Nancy’s blue eyes widened in surprise and alarm. It was a gun!

To be continued.

AI image generated by Microsoft Bing.

#nancy drew #woman detective #mystery #girl detective #adventure

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inkribbon796 · 7 months

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Egotober 2023 Day 3: Relax, Unwind, Old Friend

Summary: Wilford thinks that Dark works a bit too hard. He wants to do something about that.

A/N: No Darks were emotionally or physically harmed in the making of this fic. For once.

Prompt: Drink

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Wilford was in the kitchen, normally a terrifying experience for everyone in the Manor. Wil’s usual, non-confectionary exploits tended to end with setting the stove on fire or flooding the floor, or some other damage to the area.

But for today, Cookie the Chef and the various Lost One children of the Manor didn’t even notice him slip into the kitchen to grab a couple glasses. He was already heading into the wine cellar by the time anyone saw he had taken the glasses.

And by then it was damage done.

But Wilford was grabbing some bourbon. In one second he was standing in the cellar grabbed a bottle, and then in the next as he was turning he was walking into Dark’s office in a separate area of the Manor.

“Yes, Wil, what is it?” Dark let out a long suffering sigh.

Wilford casually sat on Dark’s desk, his bubblegum pink aura lightly brushing some scant papers out of his way. He was not stopped as he lightly set down the glasses. “Can’t a man come and visit his boyfriend?”

“Mayhaps,” Dark leaned back and looked at Wilford. “What do you want?”

“A drink, old friend, can’t two old friends have a drink.” The madman picked up a glass and gently held it out to Dark. “You work so hard.”

Dark slowly reached out with his aura and took the glass. He tilted his head and looked at Wilford’s smiling face.

Wilford’s bubblegum pink aura flooded the room, an invitation. “Come now, old sport. You need to have a little fun. Let loose, unwind a little bit.”

Looking one final time at the desk, Dark tipped back his drink. A cocktail of bourbon and the slightly unintended effect of being near Wilford and his psychedelic aura.

At first, Dark only felt the burn of his drink. Sipping a bit at it to pace himself for what was to come. Wilford was droning on about some wild hunt where he was chasing some hero in a white and gold outfit and red cape and mask. Someone with a myriad of boyfriends. That he’d borrowed the dogs, and they were fine.

Someone completely unrecognizable to Dark, as usual he had no idea about half of what Wilford was saying.

But that didn’t matter to Dark, and it certainly stopped mattering as the light haze slowly began descending over Dark’s mind. Wil’s aura snuggled comfortably around Dark’s brain.

“That’s it, old boy,” Wilford crooned as his hand gently cupped the bottom of his cheek. “Let’s have a little fun, Darkling.”

Dark managed a little half smile as Wilford leaned down and his lips met Dark’s.

The next passage of time . . . hours, minutes, lifetimes . . . it was sometimes hard to tell where time divided or ended when Wilford’s magic took over. And Dark did what he did best, just move along with Wilford.

All he knew were bits and bursts. Lips against his. His fingers twisted around in Wilford’s hair. His back against his desk as clothing was pulled and tugged.

And then after the private bliss of them together, peaceful as things were meant to be, Dark was standing on a random street in his city, his suit coat catching the light breeze of the night wind. His aura twisting around his body as he was emboldened and empowered by Wilford’ aura still coursing through him.

Silver was rushing towards him with desperation in his moment.

Dark’s aura moved for him, thankfully. If it didn’t he would be useless under the effect of Wil’s intoxicating aura. In fact, it became even stronger under his influence.

Dark used his aura to whip Silver past him and continued moving in his hunt. He had a town mayor to murder. He was bored with this human sitting in Damien’s chair. Maybe it was time for his blue soul to reemerge in Egoton again.

Post A/N: Wilford was referring to him hunting Roman on a previous Egotober.

#Egotober 2023 #Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Darkiplier #Wilford Warfstache #Darkstache #domestic fluff #willingly getting drugged by your magical boyfriend #gay bois in love

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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

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Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 31

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30]

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Warnings: Violence/death (I forgot this on the last one, sorry) this chapter also includes physical abuse. Taglist: @captainchrisstan @rebleforkicks @yjrevolution @majahu @honey-wine @accio-boys @achromaticerebus @solomonssimp @tired-ass-show-girl @dreamlessnight @daddy-long-legolas @sleepyamygdala @coopsgirl @penguinlovestowrite @midsommar-nights @whore-of-many-hot-men

After running up the stairs that Tauriel had directed you to at the back of the wine cellar, you had found yourself slipping through one of three other doorways at the top and, to your relief, came back out into familiar ground.

The Elvenqueen’s chambers.

You had burst from behind a curtain - this one red as you’d noticed most that led to the queen’s chambers were - at the same moment that Vermund himself had rushed from a room somewhere down the hall.

Stunned, you had stood there, staring dumbly at him as his gaze had fallen on you. He was moving before you could even really register his approach, so shocked were you at his being here of all places. In Thranduil’s wife’s private rooms. In the back of your mind you registered that the room he had come fleeing from was the one that took you to the garden where the roses lived!

How dare he!

Your anger began to bubble up past the surface then but your time was already up. Just as you had opened your mouth, Vermund's large hand had come clamping down over it, his other arm wrapping around your body as he began to pull you with great haste away down the hall, back through the other unseen way he had come here from.

You struggled against him, of course you did, but you were simply no match for Vermund. The realisation made your blood run cold.

Before you knew it, you were outside. You thought you heard Tauriel's voice from somewhere far behind you but you couldn't turn to be sure, so tight was Vermund's grip on you. He dragged you out of some back door and away into the forest and, if you had fully been able to, you would have gone kicking and screaming.

Thranduil was beyond furious now. He was practically burning with rage as he moved through the forest. He knew the paths of these trees like the back of his hand and following the trail that Vermund's lumbering steps had left was not difficult.

He was desperate to find you - and find you safe and unharmed. This man had no right, no right to come into his realm armed for a fight, no right to drag you away anywhere against your will.

Thranduil had placed you in a cell the first time he met you, yes, but if you had not made the offer of switching places with your father he would not have done so. It was your choice, even if you might have felt that you had none. As bad-tempered and impulsive with anger as he may have been, he would not have put you anywhere had you been unwilling. Vermund had no right to force you into anything, especially this. Thranduil would not allow it. Could not.

He had no doubt that this oaf’s plan was to drag you away back to your pitiful little village and force you into a marriage you had absolutely no desire for. He would rip away your freedom and cage you in a life that was not your own. Did he think that Thranduil would not come? Did he think that he would let you go so easily? That he would allow this man to disrespect him and his people and let him walk away without punishment?

No, Thranduil decided, he was probably counting on it. He had made clear that he wanted to kill Thranduil. The thought caused a grim smirk to tug at his lips, his eyes flashing as he urged himself to move even quicker through the trees, following the incredibly conspicuous trail.

As if that fool would get a chance to do so.

Bursting into a gloomy clearing, Vermund threw you down into the dirt beneath a large tree. Landing hard with a pained grunt, you scowled up at him, and then turned to look around, wondering if you could get onto your feet and outrun him quick enough.

“Damn this accursed forest!” He yelled, angry at having become lost once again in this dreadful wilderness, especially with you as a burden. He did not wish to come upon the spiders he had heard whispers of from the Woodmen.

You shifted, sitting up properly and he whirled upon you. “You are not going anywhere!” He snapped, stepping towards you threateningly.

You pulled back a little, fear spiking through you. “I am not going to lie here in the mud, Vermund!” You couldn’t help but snap back, shaking your head as you moved to stand up, his gaze on you like a hawk. You gritted your teeth as you did your best to ignore the pain in your hip and arm from your bad landing.

“Thranduil will come for me. He is probably coming right now.” You told him, indignant as you looked back at him. “You should run, Vermund. You should run far away.”

Vermund blinked at you, enraged. “Thranduil? What - are you on a first name basis with this creature?” He shook his head, practically sneering at you. His fingers toyed with the hilt of his sword, as if in warning. “When we return to the village you will marry me and that... that beast’s head shall hang above our fireplace!”

You stared at him, utterly disgusted at his words. He meant to kill Thranduil and keep his head as some trophy, the way he did with the animals he hunted. You already found that rather deplorable, never mind him doing it to an elf, a king no less... someone you loved.

“Never!” You cried, shaking your head as you frowned at him. The revulsion you held for him was clear in your eyes. “I will never marry you!”

It came then, unexpectedly. Vermund’s arm shot out as he backhanded you across the face. Your mouth stung as you brought your hand up to your lip, turning your head back to stare at him in complete shock. He had just hit you! You opened your mouth to give him another piece of your mind, your eyes ablaze, but he backhanded you again, so hard that you fell to the ground, your head spinning as you could feel the blood flooding to your cheek.

“You will do as I say, woman!” Vermund snapped, glaring down at you from where he stood over you.

When you said nothing, not even sparing him another glance as your anger was now too great you feared the trouble it would get you into, Vermund leaned down and grabbed you by the arms. He shook you, shouting at you but you didn’t hear any of the words, instead focusing on thrashing yourself from his repulsive grasp.

“Unhand. Her. Now.” Came the icy, silken voice of the Elvenking as he stepped from the darkness.

Your breath and your senses returned to you at the sight of him and relief shot through your veins. He had come for you!

Vermund turned from you, shock written all over his face as he had heard no approach. He pushed you away, causing you to topple to the ground once more, before he stepped back and unsheathed his sword. "Begone, monster." He spat.

"He's not a monster, Vermund!" You cried, unable to help yourself, your body feeling bruised all over thanks to his manhandling. "You are!"

Vermund ignored you - though his jaw clenched - as he threw himself towards Thranduil. Thranduil’s arm swung upwards and his sword connected with Vermund’s, the sound of clashing steel ringing through the dark clearing the three of you had come to.

The fight under the trees raged on in front of you, Thranduil blocking every hit Vermund tried to land on him, Vermund running on fumes as he did his best to keep up with his opponent. Thranduil moved like water. In comparison, Vermund moved like one stuck in a swamp.

“No!” You screamed, as Vermund’s blade flashed a little too close to Thranduil’s nose. You were too caught up in the fear to realise it but Thranduil was in complete control of the situation. He could have taken Vermund down already but he wanted to toy with the man, just a little. Watching the dullard struggle to match him caused satisfaction to curl within him.

Vermund wheeled on you again at your cry, anger in his gaze as he glared down at you. "You stupid woman! You cannot truly feel for him!" He yelled. "Watch, then!" He spun back to face Thranduil and ran at him. "As I remove his head from his shoulders!”

You watched in horror as Thranduil did not move. He stood there as if made of stone, and you thought for a heart wrenching moment that he was about to allow himself to be hurt. Just as Vermund came to him, however, the Elvenking's sword buzzed through the air in one swift, graceful movement.

Vermund's head fell to ground, closely followed by the rest of him.

"I think not." Thranduil muttered darkly, mouth twisted in disdain. "May you find no peace in death, Vermund son of Veraith."

Thranduil then turned to you, moving so quickly to crouch in front of you that you almost didn't even register it. He placed himself in your line of vision, blocking Vermund's body. He looked into your eyes and then he took your face in his hands and captured your mouth with his own.

This kiss was different from the one that came before, it was deeper, more needy, desperate. You could tell, somehow, how frightened he had been. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him back, clinging to him like your life depended on it, until eventually you had to pull away, wincing slightly. You lowered your face but Thranduil reached out again, gently tilting your chin up so you would look at him.

"Oh, melda..." He murmured, his gaze filling with both sorrow and fury as he took in the cut upon your lip, which was what caused you to pull away, and the dark red mark blossoming across your cheek. He carefully lifted his fingers and ghosted them over your injuries. A sound of disapproval rumbled in his chest.

"I should like to reanimate his corpse if only to give myself the satisfaction of murdering him again." He growled angrily.

You smiled at him, merely relieved now that he was here with you, that it was over. "I do not doubt it."

There was a silence in which you both just looked at each other and then you leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to his lips. He smiled and stood, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms before you could react.

"Thranduil!" You squealed, laughing softly as you threw your arms around his neck as if you were worried he might drop you.

He chuckled, holding you firmly as he turned to take you from this place once and for all. "Relax, little human. I've got you."

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #lotr fanfic #beauty and the beast

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whatdoesshedotothem · 7 months

Text

1834 Sept[embe]r Sat[urday] 20

7 20/..

11 1/4

No kiss fine morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 60° in tent r[oo]m at 8 1/2 a.m. br[eak]f[a]st and read[in]g morn[in]g Herald fr[om] 9 to 10 –

th[e]n h[a]d Washingt[o]n – A- [Adney] and I off to Lidg[a]te (John and Geo[rge] w[e]nt w[i]th the cart) at 11 50/.. - pack[in]g wine

fr[om] 1 to 3 20/.. – the cart off ho[me] at 3 1/2 and I aft[e]r it at 3 35/.. saunt[ere]d thro’ the walk and met the cart on its

arriv[in]g at 4 1/4 - fr[om] 4 20/.. to 5 3/4 unpack[in]g and arrang[in]g the wine in the cellar – viz.

15 bot[tle]s Elder

21 + 6 bot[tle]s curr[an]t

19 cider

31 gooseberry + 4 bot[tle]s port of 1825§

+ 1 ---------- gin

+ 1 ---------- rum + 2 d[itt]o d[itt]o mix[e]d w[i]the gooseberry by mista[ke]

5 claret

6 pint bot[tle]s.....

7 8/12 doz[en] Bucellus

38 bot[tle]s Soda wat[e]r

§6 1/2 doz[en] port of 1825 put int[o] the cellar yest[erday]

A- [Adney] h[a]d work[e]d ver[y] hard at Lidg[a]te and g[o]t all

the remaind[e]r of the bot[tle]s int[o] the b[a]ck kitch[e]n ready

for pack[in]g when I g[o]t b[a]ck (and the cart, too) at

6 20/.. – all pack[e]d and the cart alm[o]st ready for

being off wh[e]n A- [Adney] and I ca[me] away at 7 3/4 - ho[me]

in 3/4 h[ou]r at 8 1/2 - din[ner] at 8 3/4 - coff[ee] - h[a]d the

cart lock[e]d up as it was in the old c[oa]ch h[ou]se – asleep in

the easy ch[ai]r in the din[in]g r[oo]m till A- [Adney] ca[me] and awoke me

at 10 25/.. just bef[ore] she g[o]t int[o] bed – my a[un]t

poor[l]y - on[l]y w[i]th h[e]r a min[ute] or 2 - ver[y] fine

day - F[ahrenheit] 65° at 11 p.m.

#anne lister #gentleman jack #ann walker

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thedevillionaire · 1 year

Text

I posted 466 times in 2022

That's 23 more posts than 2021!

115 posts created (25%)

351 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@evilfloralfoolery

@sniction-fiction

@athousandblessings

@mimikusu

@silklined

I tagged 461 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#answered asks - 39 posts

#cerberus - 31 posts

#cerberus and kia - 28 posts

#my ocs - 22 posts

#thank you so much! - 19 posts

#supernatural soap opera - 15 posts

#love it - 14 posts

#i love it - 13 posts

#thank you so much for the asks! - 9 posts

#cerbia - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 125 characters

#this – ‘’mere snatches of josephine abstracted the rippled reflection left behind when she’s some moments ahead’’ – is divine

My Top Posts in 2022:

Discovery

A little awakening moment with very early Cerberus and Kia. It's their third date, and a notable first time. ---

She can’t even remember the last time she’s been on a dinner date. A proper one, that is. Proper proper. At all.

Is it…never? Wow, is it actually never?

Kia tries to settle her nerves a little. Calm down. It’s just food, okay? Fancy food. Oh my god, you know how to eat! And you can do a little fancy. They’re not even at the dinner part of the evening yet – they’re just selecting an accompanying wine. Or he is, anyway. She has no idea about that sort of thing, really, though she’s more than happy to partake in fancy wine alongside fancy food. And she’s wearing a very suitably fancy silk embroidered dinner gown, after all. Partaking is practically mandatory.

But the magnificence still strikes her, here the depths of the DeVille manor, the cellar with its stonecut staircase wrapped in cast iron curves and filigree, the capricious flicker of firebrands, and a core warmth in the atmosphere permeating even the heavy stone. She’s never been here before, never experienced anything like it. Like him.

He looks like art. It’s far from the first time she’s thought it but there are moments it shakes her all over again, as if she’s seeing him completely anew. As indeed it does tonight, with him in beautifully tailored black dress coat, brocade waistcoat with richest green detail offsetting in echo that famous emerald gaze, unbound midnight hair falling past broad shoulders; he is dark majesty resplendent and he disorients her with a breathtaking presence unrivalled.

Cerberus pauses by the burnished oakwood door, offering his hand to her as she negotiates the final descent in delicately beautiful shoes entirely unsuited to the task. She’s slow to accept, still a little caught up in her thoughts, but thankful for the assistance and the warm solidity of his grasp – firm, safe, see? you’re not hallucinating, real – amid the imposing, classic grandeur of it all.

It’s also an imposing, classic grandeur that is apparently not in regular use.

His opening of the door sends a chaotic dance of dust motes into the air, thick and animated, the light from the firebrands illuminating the swirling wild array.

“Ah, damn.”

Cerberus, with a sharp and immediate catch of breath, frowns momentarily, sniffles and rubs his nose, well aware that it won’t prevent the inevitable for long. And indeed it doesn’t; he turns from Kia and gives over quickly. “HuhTSCHuu! Ah-TSSCH-uu! Excuse me, I… hh-AATSSCH-uu!”

“Bless you!” Kia offers with a smile, and a tone belying a sudden, riveted focus.

“*snf!* Thank you, darkling.” Cerberus shakes his head briefly as if to clear the irritation, sniffles again. “Should come down here more often, I suppose, but there’s not really been the… hh-HH…” His brow creases, expression collapsing expectant. “—the occasion. Sorry, I’m going to sneeze agai…” he almost manages, his words a blurred rush of necessity as his breath is directed to more pressing matters and he turns away once more, hurried and desperate; he covers with hastily retrieved handkerchief and with a scimitar gasp surrenders again.

“hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU!”

And Kia doesn’t expect or indeed understand the sharp thrill that flashes through her now, makes her stomach leap, her heart still a moment then race, but ohh she recognises the cause of his reaction, and she smiles softly as she finds herself discovering this simple little susceptibility in him unexpectedly beautiful.

“Aw, you’re allergic?”

He partially concedes with something approaching a concessional half-nod, and an accompanying sniffle. “A little se…” His breath catches again and he wipes his nose with a firm and determined measure of resistance. “A little sensitive to it, mm.”

Kia’s smile broadens, warm and vibrant. “It’s actually adorable, you know.”

Cerberus chuckles in a mixture of bemusement and utter disbelief as he rubs watering eyes and sniffles again. “Not quite the word I’d choose, darkling,” he says, selecting a bottle of something deep red and richly decadent, which he wastes no time in passing across to Kia in acute and escalating urgency. “It’s probably best if…” He inhales sharply at the insistent returning itch that he can do very little about, and he stifles another unstoppable sneeze against his shoulder. “HXXTch! Best if you hold this. I… hhh...!”

He turns from her immediately the moment the bottle’s safely in her hands, capitulating absolute, possessing and powerful. “Huh-AAHTSSCHHuu!!”

“Gods! *SNF!* Pardon me.” He blows his nose, excuses himself again and takes a moment to recover, looking over at Kia with an expression of self-deprecating chagrin as he pushes disarrayed falls of ebony from his face, sniffling again in the wake. “I feel my aura of debonair mystique may be taking a bit of a hit here.” He offers her a wry smile and raises an eyebrow.

Kia laughs, openly and genuinely. “Oh, but you’re completely nailing adorable,” she purrs through captivation - the unexpected thrill of seeing something so small and insignificant, so regular, so everyday, overtake him like this, but also how entirely he commits to it, once it’s a certainty. His intensity, passion, potency intrinsic to his being somehow, in every aspect.

So much to learn...

She curls her arm around his waist, stands on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Bless you,” she murmurs, just a little softwanton, then adds a playful, “I mean, I’m pretty sure adorable is one of the main qualities a good Demon king needs anyway. Actual fact.” She grins.

"Oh, I see." Cerberus smiles back at her and runs a cautious forefinger beneath his nose with another sharp sniffle. “Ugh. Honestly! Charming as that is, darkling, I think what I actually need is fresh air.”

“And an incredibly sexy dinner date.”

He laughs. “And an incredibly sexy dinner date.”

68 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

It’s No Secret

Little domestic moment with my darlings, no plot other than a mildly irregular day in the Demonics Office. --- Kia knocks, opens the door and enters the Demonics Office in a fluid, nonchalant motion like there’s no risk involved in such an act whatsoever.

“Hey, hon, you busy?”

Cerberus, with a sharp sniffle, vaporises the latest clutch of used tissues he’s holding and glances up from his seat at the desk as his bonded, unannounced and unexpected, flashes him a vibrant smile as she moves to meet him, bestowing a quick kiss and no time to reply.

“No, okay, great, because…”

She mumbles a rhetorical “Can I just shift… I’m just gonna…” as she moves a few papers aside, puts the small hamper she’s carrying down in their place, and looks Cerberus over in quick assessment. He’d been headachy, distracted and sniffly morning-long. Early afternoon now, and the light hint of pink to his nostrils, the tiredness muting the intensity of his gaze, the remnant scent of smoke from recurrent tissue immolations combine to suggest that nothing much has changed. He presses the back of his hand against his nose with more than a little force, and sniffles again.

“Okay, first, this is honey and ginger tea.” Kia holds up a thermos, points to it. “It should still be pretty warm but you’ll probably want to reheat it anyway. Figured that wouldn’t be a problem, though.” She smiles and winks playfully.

“Anyway—” She pushes some more desk accoutrements aside, ignores the fleeting mildly pained expression this action brings from Cerberus, and sits on the desk to face him. “—you know that whole ‘the secret ingredient is love’ thing, right? When someone cooks something and it’s extra good and you ask them how it’s so good and the answer is that the secret ingredient is love?”

Cerberus, not quite sure where she’s going with this, gives her a quizzical look. It’s gearing up to be a particularly relentless week, as Influx is every year, and he’s only just at the beginning of arranging it all, he’s done very little of it to completion, and delaying further won’t help anything at all. “Yes, darkling, I suppose so, but I…” He wryly indicates a paper with a mess of unfinalised schedules on it. Another sniffle sees him claim another tissue.

Kia is not going to be distracted from her cause.

“Well, my love is not a secret.” Directing his attention now to a soup canister, she removes the cover to proudly display the contents. Floating in the broth are several vegetables which have been precisely cut into heart shapes. “It’s actual. Look - you can see the love!” She points at a heartcarrot. “Which obviously means it’s the best soup ever,” she adds with certainty, waving a presentational flourish over the soup and smiling broadly. “Anyway, so, like, I did the carrot and potato but the chicken is just shredded because it’s hard to make hearts out of chicken. Also the corn, it’s just…it’s really tiny.”

Cerberus laughs with a genuine, heartwarmed delight. This is so very Kia, so very the essence of his beloved – these thoughtful eccentricities, percipient kindnesses, the joy she always brings with it – and he curls a hand through her rich brunette waves, touches a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s wonder…” He clears his throat as his voice catches a little, sniffles again and wipes his nose. “Excuse me. It’s wonderful, love, you’re wonderful, but, really, you needn’t have gone to the trouble. I’m al… hh…” His expression collapses into an immediately surrendered frown, haze falling over emerald eyes, and he brings the tissue he’s holding up in cover, turns from Kia as much as he can in the almost no time he’s afforded before he capitulates, urgent, needful, unforgiving. “HUHTSSCH-uu! Huh-TSSCH-uu! Hh-hh… HH… AhhHETSCHUU!”

The room spins a little more than he’s prepared for and he takes a moment for a chagrined wry recovery. “Damn it. *snff!* Couldn’t have timed that more badly if I’d tried.” He clears his throat again, wipes his nose firmly. “Pardon me.”

“Bless you. Lucky for you I brought this amazing and clearly needed chicken and vegetable love soup.”

He chuckles wryly, thanks her for the blessing and wipes his nose again, just as ineffectively as the last time. “And I do appreciate it, darkling, I truly do, but I will be fine, I promise.” And he still mostly believes it, although with somewhat less conviction than perhaps he did earlier.

A languid hand weaves through falls of ebony hair as she meets his gaze, her tone faux stern for, “Oh, I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Any form of you holding me suits me perfectly well, love.” Cerberus incinerates the tissue before indicating the multitude of papers awaiting his attention. “But unfortunately, for the moment, duty calls.”

Kia sighs, just a little. “Well, if you really absolutely do have to be all big bad formidable Demon king or whatever today, you definitely need the soup,” she says, the undertone of chastisement clear as she trails a fingernail along angular cheekbone. “You’ve barely made it through a sentence without sniffling since I got here, you know.”

He’d love to not sniffle again at this point, but despite that, he absolutely does.

She quirks a knowing eyebrow at him, leans in closer for a warm, lingering kiss, and Mindsends :Nobody is too formidable for soup.:

She leans back again, looks at him in gentle yet firm challenge. “And don’t you even try to pretend.”

Cerberus chuckles wryly, shakes his head. “Ah, darkling, I wouldn’t dare.”

This magnificent goddess. The call of duty is lessening by the second.

He wraps an arm around her waist in desirous embrace, pulling her close, raising the ambient heat both with thought and physical touch. Pushing her hair aside with slow, indulgent tenderness, he tucks silken chestnut behind her ear to press a kiss to her neck, his sly smile practically tangible as he murmurs a susurrant baritone I used to run this place, you know.

“Mmh,” Kia manages, heat suffusing her, wanton volcanic, and she leans in, tracing her fingers languorously over her bonded’s face as she does so. She feels his nostrils twitch against her touch, senses as much as hears the short, sharp inhalation he cannot help but take, and the heat already burning her rises again, incendiary.

And the Demon king would very much like to not continue to perfect the art of inopportune timing but his powers have no dominion here, not in the face of this irresistible need, this culmination desperate. He turns to stifle against his shoulder, once and then again – “HXTchu! HXXTCHu!” – and he Mindsends an apology as the need, only increased with the suppression, returns renewed insistent powerful absolute and he inhales deeply, doubles over into folded arms, surrendered.

“Huh-AAHTSSCHHUU! Hhh… hh-TSSCHH-uu! HHTSSCHH-uu!”

Kia’s Mindsent :Bless you, sweetheart: is a vibration through body and soul.

“hh-AHH… Ah-TSSCHH-uu! Ah, gods.” Cerberus sniffles fiercely, murmurs a thank you and an apology, and sighs. “I suppose I’m doomed at this point, hm? Excuse me, love.” He claims a sequence of tissues and blows his nose thoroughly, which does stop the sniffling – in the short-term, at least. And it may simply be the presence of his beloved, but he strangely finds himself feeling better than he’s felt all day, even if he’s not exactly sounding the part, and he chooses the path of optimism again. “I’m sure I’ll be alright, though, honestly. These things do pass.”

See the full post

70 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

Best Served Cold

≈ 3,000 words of Underworldian shenanigans - Cerberus and Kia and some guest appearances; any and all questions, please do ask! And as always, thank you so much for taking the time to enter in; my ridiculous little heart loves you all. ---

Seriously?

He’s somehow managed to resemble an outtake from a baroque portrait, an array of plush blankets slung over the chair and side table in what certainly wasn’t artful arrangement but has fallen that way all the same, much like his own position, like he’s been purposefully styled to be all long, sculpted limbs, curtain of silken ebony hair falling just so, shirt semi-unbuttoned as if for an intentional, dramatically splendid unconsciousness. The grandeur of the room itself brings its own measure of import, and a claret-stained wineglass and tissue box, both notably empty, lending further subtle touches to the vista – of indulgence, of necessity. An almost bacchanalian, luxuriantly rich chaos of classic beauty gone vaguely awry, a haphazardness in paradox, perfectly disordered.

And he’s got no right to be this beautiful, not under third-day ravages of a heavy headcold, asleep in the fireside chair that he swore to her he wouldn’t fall asleep in, he’s just going to review some papers, it’s no problem, darkling, and it needs to be done.

He’s a little flushed; could be the wine, could be a touch of fever.

Kia sighs. He may indeed be an unfair triumph of aesthetic debauchery, but right now the stunning Demon king is also just her sick husband, his formidable dominance quieted under blanket pile and sleepthick congested breaths, domestic everyday mundane, which is somehow the most surreal and incredible part of all of it.

Picking up one of several scrolls strewn across the table, she glances over a complex and bloodthirsty looking collection of daemonological whatnots she mostly doesn’t comprehend. Okay, pretty sure that’s ‘evisceration’…

Alrighty, then.

She takes a brief detour to the kitchen, collecting the tissue box from the countertop there, and returns.

“Hey, hon,” she says as he blearily wakes to her soft stroking of his hair, the contours of his face. Her briefly reproachful expression is entirely a work of fiction, though, and she tilts his head towards her for a loving kiss.

:You’re the worst self-medicator I have ever met.:

Cerberus murmurs a congested, hoarse and not quite awake yet Mm, hello, love with a sniffle and nose rub against an itch that wastes no time in reasserting itself; with an urgent gasp he collapses into crooked elbow and a couplet of heavy sneezes he doesn’t even consider fighting. “Ah-TSSCHH-uu! Huh-hhAHTSSCHhuu!” He excuses himself breathlessly a moment before an immediate third, powerful and possessing. “HHAAHTSSCCHU! Ugh, pardon me. *SNFF!*”

“Bless you, sweetheart. Here,” Kia says, passing him a couple of tissues from the new box, which briefly confuses Cerberus before he gathers enough wherewithal through coldhazy tiredness to work it out. He presses his hand to his temples, the bridge of his nose, a series of ineffectual, wet sniffles in the wake, pushes his hair back from his face and makes a halfhearted attempt at rearranging both himself and the blankets into a slightly more put-together fashion.

Another sniffle. “Thanks, love. Sorry.”

She touches a kiss to the top of his head,running her fingers through his hair even as she gently pushes it aside, her hand resting a moment on his brow, noting with slight concern a heat beyond his norm. Another kiss as she drapes her arms around him. “How’s the cold?”

“Flourishing.” He sniffles again, particularly emphatically, and groans as he notices that he’s not, in fact, completed the work he meant to do – work that he thought he had done. “And apparently I’ve had—” he says, as much to himself as to Kia while running through a rapid double check of several scrolls, definitely incomplete, “—the world’s most tedious dream.”

He looks up at his bonded as if she’s going to know the answer, though he’s asking himself more than asking her. “How have I not finished this?”

“Well… You did finish the wine, so...” She gives him a good-natured, gently teasing smile.

“Ah, no, that was shared with Lilith during a delightful impromptu argument earlier,” he says, examining a particular scroll for a third time, “and… *snf* Oh, I…” He frowns, breath sharpcatching, and raises an index finger in urgent necessity of pause, turning from Kia with haste. “Hhh-AHTSSCH-uu! Hh...hh-HH… Ah-HEHTSHhuu! Ah, gods.”

A tired exhalation follows and he sniffles thickly in the wake of it, grumbles something about barely know what I’m doing thanks to this pestilential nonsense and excuses himself to claim a fresh sequence of tissues. He blows his nose, which does little more than reignite the itch with extra heat, burning insistent relentless, and he sneezes again immediately. “Huh-AHSSCHuu! Honestly, this has been… hpt-XCH! all damn… hhH! *snf* All damn day. Excu… hh-ah…AAHTSCHUU!! Gods, excuse me.”

“Aw, bless you, babe.” Kia gives him a moment of recovery – such as it is, his breathing still somewhat erratic – and runs her hands through her bonded’s hair with one hand, passes him some more tissues with the other. “So, want my news of the day? Yeah, you do,” she says with a kiss to his cheek and no pause for an answer. “You know how I had my crash course in Mortal Studies instructing? Okay, well, oh my god it’s a whole lot harder than I expected. Like, some of the stuff you have to explain is just really…really weird. Ash has been super helpful, though. Except he did give me all the assignments to mark, which is definitely less cool, but fine, I guess. At least it’s a small group.”

She stops to regard Cerberus a moment in a sudden, slightly delayed curiosity. “So what were you arguing with Lilith about?”

Cerberus scoffs as he vaporises the used tissues. “Gods know. Haven’t a clue. I’ve willfully forgotten, or today’s medication came with some creative side effects notably more effective than its purported effects.” He clears his throat and sniffles again, rubbing his nose with a determined firmness, and subdues the most recent of the recurrent itches – almost. “She came around here and said some things at me. *snf!* I’ve no idea what.”

“So what did you say, then? You must have said something.”

“Probably did more sneezing than talking,” Cerberus mutters with clear touch of bitterness, more to himself than to Kia, though she offers a nod of agreement and wry chuckle all the same. “Be that as it may, though, I really have very little idea of what the problem actually was. Something about the damned Nuit and Arcadia issue.” He frowns in thought, pressing a hand to his forehead, and sighs. “I could have sworn we started out holding much the same opinion on the matter. Though I’m sure she’d be more than willing to let me know exactly where, why and in which way I was completely wrong about everything.”

“If you don’t remember what you said,” Kia says with a playful wicked grin, “you really can’t be sure that you weren’t wrong about everything, yeah?”

“Honestly, darkling. Are you actively trying to make my day worse than it already is?” Cerberus raises an eyebrow at her and shifts his position to rest his head against hers, murmuring, “I couldn’t have been wrong about everything. I never am.” He turns slightly to give a fleeting, knowing smile at her resultant incredulous laugh, coughs in reflex and groans quietly. “Ugh, I feel appalling.”

“Aw, honey.” Kia touches an affectionate kiss to his temple. “I know.” She glances over her shoulder as a knock sounds at the door. “Huh. Are you expecting anyone?” she asks, already moving to answer it.

“Dear gods, no. Although Lilith didn’t let that stop her from turning up earlier.”

See the full post

71 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

Home Truths

A little snapshot moment. I've been kind of on a sappy domestic comfort kick lately. No plot save the small things. 🖤 ---

I’ll be alright.

But of course he’d say that.

The doubtful inquiry in her gaze isn’t lessened at all by his assurance; he’s been tired and out of sorts since waking. He knows this, and as he looks across at her from where he sits on the couch, he concedes to it. Just a touch.

A little sniffly, love, but I’ll be alright. A slight smile she recognises as an effort made just for her.

He looks exhausted.

Kia keeps a watchful eye on Cerberus with intermittent, lingering over-the-shoulder glances while she finishes making her tea. He’s sniffly, as he says, indeed – he has been since an early, powerful trio of sneezes rich with the kind of wet heaviness that never bodes well – but also the lethargy in his motion, the unspoken story of his hand pressed against his temples, his sinuses, the brief frown of discomfort he gives as he does so ensuring her attention remains fixed.

A moment’s hiatus then another frown, first appearing almost curious but quickly deepening to something much more urgent, hijacked sharpneedful desperation, a keen gasp collapsing rapidly into an imperative, overwhelming sneeze. No respite in its wake and his breath is a hitch of pleading and need, and another, and again, completely overtaken.

“HehAHHTSSCHUU! Hhh…h… Huh-HH… hh-HAHTSSCHHUU!!” He doesn’t so much cover with crooked elbow as surrender into its refuge, whole body capitulation, and the deep shiver, cold flash and head spin that follows sets him reeling. Everything aches, sudden and absolute, he’s chilled to the bone, senses simultaneously dulled and painfully sharp, like the world cracked on its axis in the aftermath. He doesn’t excuse himself as he usually does, he doesn’t have the wherewithal, and puts his head in his hands, looking and sounding so unlike himself that his bonded abandons her tea without another thought and moves to him.

Her hand on his shoulder in steadfast caress, an unspoken promise of sanctuary.

Honey?

He gives the slightest shake of his head.

I’m not…

And for a moment she almost expects another denial, but it’s fleeting.

His energy stolen, with brow creased he looks up to meet her eyes in true concern; a clear, perplexed worry cast unmissable in emerald, and a shocked waver in his voice that she’s never heard before – tone quieted, apology-laced, and without doubt.

I’m not well.

Its simplicity brutally telling, Kia knows immediately how certain he must be for such an admission. The matter-of-factness, no denial, no mitigation. A plain honesty rendered devastating.

Oh, sweetheart.

She embraces him in softwarm haven and he leans into her touch as she cradles his head against her breast, comfort embodied, silently noting what is almost certainly fever.

A gentle kiss pressed to his forehead. It’s alright. Whisper intimate, reassuring. I’m here. A tender stroking of his hair, holding him closer as he shivers and sniffles again. I love you.

And she finds herself echoing his words, but from a place of promise rather than avoidance, security rather than hope. An endgoal rather than an entreaty.

Another kiss.

You’ll be alright.

---

73 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Gifted

just a small domestic micromoment

---

He’s late.

He’s very late.

He’d really tried not to be but just about everything that could have gone wrong has resolutely done so all damn day, and he closes the bedroom door as quietly as he can, not at all surprised to find his beloved already asleep. He’s exhausted himself. Everything’s taken at least twice as long as it should have, his ability to focus one step from nonexistent, and now on top of it all he just can’t…seem to…

“hh-HH”

stop…

“HuhTSSchuu!”

Cerberus covers with tightly crooked elbow as best he can in an attempt to keep things as quiet as possible but good intentions regardless it’s really not where his talents lie, and he hesitates in a momentary frozen hiatus, brow creased in concern as Kia stirs just a little, unsure whether he’s woken her or not.

But she resettles quickly enough and he sighs, sniffles, pushes his hair back from his face. He takes a fresh tissue, then another, from the box on the dresser, wipes his nose with a commanding, wilfully insistent firmness, and immediately sniffles again.

Gods his head hurts. He swallows with pained effort, the brokenglass sting in his throat a wicked omen, but for now he’s just so glad to finally be home and back with his love; the day’s had precious few moments of respite, and even the sight of his bonded is some kind of soul-deep succour.

Despite his attempts to not disturb her she wakes a little anyway as he joins her under the covers. She murmurs a soft sound of welcome, her mouth curling into the smallest of contented smiles, and sleepily shifts her position to curl up alongside him, trail her fingers through his hair.

And all he wants is to immerse in the sanctuary of her embrace and finally get some much-needed rest but this incessant itch just will not…

He turns from her rapidly as urgency becomes imperative, demanding insistent no warning no chance, and he sneezes twice, stifles a third

“Huh-TSSCH-uu! AHTSSCHuu! HXTchu!” in desperate rapid succession; she reaches over to gather some tissues to pass him, offers a sweetsoft bless you concurrent with his wearily chagrined excuse me as she does so. He manages a partial thankyou before returning unstoppable rising need wrenches him away and he buries his face in folded arms, doubles over absolute, surrendered.

“HhhAHTSSCHHuu!”

He groans quietly and collapses back amongst the pillows with another series of liquid sniffles.

“Aw, you getting a cold?” Empathic and sleepblurry, it’s not so much question as observance, muffled by both the bedlinens and her bonded’s shoulder as she wraps herself around him, touches a lingering kiss to his temple.

A resigned hmh of concession; he feels entirely too awful for any denials. “*snf!* Doing an outstanding job of it, too, it seems,” he says, the thick edges of heavying congestion already dulling his diction. He sniffles again, rubs his nose with more than a little force, and turns his gaze to hers in wry apology.

She tuts a warm sound of sympathy and props herself up on her elbow a moment to regard him with tender concern; the rarity of an admission like that from him has her immediate attention. “Come here.” A gentle hand brushes some errant midnight strands aside, a murmured, “Oh, hon,” and she softly directs him to lie against her, embracing him, entwining them together. She presses another kiss to his forehead, and feeling his breath catch anew reaches over to the tissue box again, passes him a preemptive handful as she sleepily returns to nestle close against him once more, her voice warmwhispered, intimate, soothing.

“You’re such an overachiever.”

134 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#my addiction to ask memes laid bare in the taggery #pretty happy with my top 5 here though ngl #even though i'm not entirely convinced of its accuracy because i have two posts that notes-count-wise should be here #my OCs incognito missing out lol #and there should be a comma in that 'longest tag' after 'abstracted' dammit tumblr #from The Final Final II by the fabulous mongooseblues #this was fun though

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admiral-mason · 1 year

Text

SAGAU x Roblox Doors Part 1

Why? Because I said so. Play the original game here (make sure to have a Roblox account first).

A few quick headcanons on the Doors characters before we get started:

These entities are the creation of a god who long abandoned them.

The hotel they live in is a pocket dimension of sorts. How the players get there is unknown.

You got there by exploring others' creations while you were creating Teyvat.

Upon entering the hotel, they all tried to kill you.

But you saw them as abandoned children that just needed someone to lean on.

So you left various little gifts such as food, water, etc.

They slowly began to warm up to you, and eventually you all became friends in a sense.

When you play their 'game' (no harm was caused other than jumpscares to you), and win, you get a prize of sorts. Could be a green herb, or perhaps a shakelight obtained from the Rooms.

Venti practically had a worried look when you lead him, Zhongli, and Ei through the front doors of this anomalous hotel with perpetual rainfall. "Your grace, I knew you warned me about taking this, but this is kinda scary..." He said, holding your hand out of fear. The other two looked at him with passive-aggressive stares out of jealousy.

"Well, you DID agree to this, Venti." You simply said to him. "I'll get you some dandelion wine when we return home." Those words made him smile, and you could notice Zhongli and Ei's glares at the archon posing as a bard.

"I'll get you all something when we get home. Preferably something affectionate. Now let's go." You said to them as you took the key to unlock the door to start the game.

"So here's the goal: We just gotta make it to a lift at the end of the hotel after 100 rooms. Simple enough to grasp?" You asked the archons and they nodded. "Good. I'll explain some... other things as we go on." You said, as they followed you through the door, leading to door 1.

Much of the first few doors were uneventful as you expected. Ei found a lighter and was curious as to how it worked. She flicked it on and off a few times before you told her about it.

"That's a lighter, Ei. It can generate a controlled fire to make a light." You told Ei as she continued to stare at the fire-making tool with interest. "Conserve it well, Ei. Lights play a bigger role in this game than you wish." Then Zhongli opened the door you're in.

"Your grace! I found what looked to be gold coins, do these do anything?" He asked you, showing the gold he found. "Gather as much gold coins as you can, Zhongli. They'll be useful when we get to Jeff's shop."

"Who's Jeff?" He asked. "You'll see" You simply said with a grin on your face.

Upon reaching room 17, which was an L-shaped room with a few closets, the lights started to flicker on and off. "Quick! Everyone get into a closet, now!" Everyone listened and hid into a closet after you did. Two seconds later, you noticed a dark gray face speed through the room, emitting a static sound as it did so. The lights broke, and it left the room's door open.

Everyone exited their closets and found each other in the process, Ei using her lighter to generate a small light which you all huddled by. "W-What was that?!" Venti screamed, scared at what had just happened.

"I call them Rush. They're one of the entities that will try and detriment our attempts at reaching Door 100. In other words, they're trying to kill us." You said to the archons calmly, as they had their concerned expressions.

"Surely they aren't stronger than us... right...?" Ei asked. "Power works differently here. Whatever powers you have get stripped here, and you will always suffer the amount of damage they deal." You answered, the archons' faces getting a bit worried after this. "L-Let's just keep going." Venti said, a bit scared now.

Rooms 17-28 also weren't that eventful, except for room 25 being a wine cellar and containing various barrels of wine. "Ooh~ I didn't know rooms like this can generate around here!" He said, before rushing over to the barrels. "Venti- no. Don't drink that. It's expired for god knows how long." You said to him before he promptly pouted.

The next room was supposedly another encounter of Rush, but the lights flickered for longer this time.

"Oh dear. Everyone, stay close to me and listen to my commands. This one really likes to mess with you." You said before you were all teleported to a long and narrow hallway emitting a bluish-green light. You held onto the archons in a hug-like manner of sorts, causing light blushes from them. Suddenly, you saw a message pop up in your vision.

"TURN AROUND" it read, also being accompanied by a back arrow. Suddenly, you saw your foe this time. Halt. "Everyone, turn back!" You started moving backwards as the archons followed. It happened again, and now you saw Halt in front of you.

"Other way!" You said, as you and your group turned back. This process repeated a few more times until you all reached the end of the hallway.

"That was Halt. They try to mess with you psychologically using claustrophobic and unsettling tactics." You explained, as the archons were concerned over how you weren't scared of this.

After room 33, you all started noticing black eyes in the walls of the rooms, eerily staring at you. When Zhongli asked you about this, you simply responded with: "Hopefully you're ready to run, Zhongli."

Room 36 was incredibly dark, so Ei took out her lighter. But then, you heard a 'psst' sound. You turned your head randomly until you saw what looked to be a flying creature with black tentacles and glowing white eyes. "AAAAAAGGGHHH!!!" It screamed before fleeing to somewhere. Venti got scared of Screech and clung onto you.

"YOUR GRACE THIS IS SCARY!" He screamed. You simply just hugged him and gave him headpats to calm him down, with pouts from the other two. You ended up spending around three minutes giving affection to the Archons before moving onto room 37, a long but wide hallway. Everyone started walking down, but when you all reached then end, you turned around to see a puddle of black goop with a humanoid figure bearing one eye emerging from it made from the same goop. Seek.

"EVERYBODY, FOLLOW ME!" When he started chasing you all, you all ran and were forced to crouch through fallen bookshelves, run through octagonal rooms, and dodge through another large hallway with black hands and fallen chandeliers. When you reached the end, the door shut and Seek banged loudly on the door for three times before giving up.

"Congratulations, you've survived who I call Seek. They chase us for six rooms before getting blocked by a door." You said as you continued into Room 42. The archons simply followed you while internally they were scared as heck.

#sagau #genshin impact #genshin sagau #roblox #doors roblox #roblox doors

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dari-ede · 1 year

Text

In the Middle of the Night: Ch 21

Chapter 21: "Whenever I Get Around You"

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Pairing: Idol!RM/Namjoon x OFC

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Rating: M (language, sexual/adult themes in other chapters)

Status: COMPLETE

Warning: Familial problems, mother/daughter issues

***********************

-Thanksgiving Day-

It was a good thing that Namjoon had his schedule full the days leading up to Thanksgiving. Their first show was in a couple of days and they were using every bit of it getting ready for it. Thankfully, they had been given Thanksgiving day off so they would be able to attend dinner.

The guest list was less than 20 and most knew each other, so I was sure everyone would be comfortable. My brother, Sebastian, was my writing partner and on most occasions when I wrote songs for the guys, he had assisted, so the guys knew Seb pretty well. Not to mention that on several occasions, my brothers and Ky hung out with the guys when they visited LA.

It was getting close to noon, the time I had told everyone to be there. My tia Jia and Jinny, her daughter, were helping me set up. The three of us had prepared all the food and we were finishing things when the first round of people rang the door.

It was the guys, always punctual. I welcomed them at the front door and they made their way into the house, eyes gawking over the place and commenting on how beautiful my home was.

Namjoon made his way to me, brushing his lips against mine. When I pulled away, those deep dimples threatened to turn me into a puddle of mush.

“I forget how huge this place is. It’s amazing how close you are to the beach,” Hoseok said, his mouth and eyes fully open.

“This must be millions of dollars,” Jungkook muttered, his head peaking to the backyard.

I didn’t comment, not comfortable with confirming how right he was.

None of the guys knew, not even Namjoon, but the reason I was able to afford this home was due to an inheritance left to me by my grandfather. When he passed, he had left a fortune behind. My mother gained a wealth of her own as a recording artist and hired a financial advisor who assisted in setting her children up for life. It was one of the few good things she did for me and my brothers. By the time I was 24, I had enough to buy my dream home: a house large enough to fit a large family comfortably with a beautiful view and proximity to the beach.

While I was raised privileged, I didn’t flaunt it. Another good attribute my mother instilled in us since childhood: being humble. While I owned this lavish house, the items inside tended to be pretty modest. I was more than willing to spend a good amount of money for a solid house with a breathtaking view, but I wasn’t about to waste money on luxurious furniture when I could buy something similar and cheap from IKEA.

“Do you still have the chairs on that cliff?” Yoongi asked almost excitedly.

“Oh, yeah. Can we go out there sometime today?” Namjoon looked like a little kid, ready to jump up in excitement.

The guys had visited the house a few times. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung tended to gravitate toward the pools—one was outside and the other was inside and heated. Hobi was in love with the setup of my closet, Jin admired my wine cellar, and Namjoon and Yoongi were drawn to the cliff in my property that overlooked the ocean. It was actually my favorite spot in my home as well. I liked going out there with a good book, notebook, or camera.

“Yeah,” I answered them, smiling at their cuteness. “We can go now or right at sunset. It’s my favorite time of the day.”

“Can we do both?” asked Yoongi.

I was about to say yes when my tia Jia and Jinny came into view.

They all exchanged pleasantries with each other. Jinny had met the guys a couple of times, so she was shier than usual. The boys tended to be quiet at first meeting someone, so there was an immediate awkwardness. However, my aunt was quick to make everyone feel at ease. Everyone was laughing in no time.

We took the guys over to the appetizer area so they could start eating. Of course, we made sure there was a combination of savory and healthy food to choose from. They were getting ready for a show, after all.

As the guys chatted with my tia Jia and Jinny, Namjoon pulled me to another room.

At first, I thought he was wanting to find a secret corner to make out in, which I was totally up for. However, I was quickly disappointed.

“How did your brothers handle the news?” he asked curiously.

I frowned, not sure what he was meaning.

He looked confused by my confusion. “About us?”

The realization hit me. I had promised to tell my family about Namjoon by Thanksgiving. Yet here we were and I had failed to keep that promise. I silently cursed at myself.

“You haven’t?” he asked, a look of disbelief and almost concern on his face. “Why?”

I was at a loss for words. “I’ve been so busy with planning everything that it slipped.”

There was a flash in Namjoon’s eyes. One that I had rarely seen. And never towards me. He wasn’t just irritated, he was pissed.

It made my stomach become unsettled. “It was an honest mistake,” I tried to explain quickly. “I’ve told Ky, Jinny, and my uncle John, so it’s not like I’m keeping it a secret on purpose.”

The glare did not waver. “Kyong guessed it on his own, you said so yourself weeks ago. I’m sure your aunt is the one who told your uncle. It was only Jinny you told. And that’s only because her parents and brother knew—you felt obligated to,” he accused.

My heart rate picked up. I don’t know why I lied. It was an impulse—quick thinking to save my ass. I should have known Namjoon not only would have sniffed out the lie right away but be quick to call me out on it.

“I’m sorry,” I said defeatedly.

“About not telling them or lying to me?” he asked, his eyes digging into mine.

Suddenly, I could feel an inner frustration building inside me. But I wasn’t sure who it was geared towards: myself or Namjoon? I had acted stupid, not thinking before speaking and hurting Namjoon in the process. But I was also upset with him for not waiting until after dinner at least to discuss this. There was a group of people in the other room, soon more would be joining. Why bring this up now?

“Both,” I answered him, hoping he could drop this until tonight.

“Are you sorry for both, though?” he wasn’t letting this go.

He had pushed me to my own irritation. “Why are you picking a fight right now? There are guests out there. Did something happen that’s making you take your anger out on me?”

“You’re trying to turn the tables around and it’s not going to work,” he shot back.

God, he really wanted a fight. I closed the door, ensuring more privacy and giving me the liberty to meet his heat with mine.

“That’s not what I’m doing. If you want to discuss how you feel about my fuck up, I’m totally up for it. But we have people outside and I have a feeling this discussion is going to last a pretty long time. Is it really wise to have it now?” I wanted to snap at him fully. But I was trying to be calm and logical.

He had a lot to say, I could feel him holding himself back. But he saw my reasoning. He took a breath after a long moment and gave a short nod.

I took a breath myself and met his eyes. We looked at each other for a long moment. I could hear him telepathically letting out his frustration at me. And I took it. I deserved it.

He settled down after a while, his eyes softer, but the hurt and anger were still there.

I stepped in, feeling safe to do so. Placing my hand upon his face, I guided his head to bend to mine. Staring right into his deep, warm cocoa eyes, I made another promise. One I fully intended to follow through with. “As soon as they come in through the door—whether together or separately—I will be telling them.”

There was a hesitation in his stare. He didn’t automatically believe me.

And it felt like a stab in the stomach that he didn’t. “Ok?” I asked, sounding desperate.

Maybe it was my tone that moved him. He took my face in his own hands and caressed me, his features softening with concern. “Ok.”

How he immediately forgot his frustration and was now worried for me squeezed my chest. I wanted to apologize. Get on my knees and wish to take back making him feel sorry for me. That’s why he had forgotten his own emotions: my well-being had taken president.

His concern and consideration for others made him deserve everything good in this world. It was impossible for anyone who was blessed to get a chance to know him not to fall into his gravity. My soul was already pulled and now attached to his skin. And I was getting drawn in deeper. And I was scared to shit of it because I wanted to be fully engulfed in him. So much so that I didn’t care if I lost myself in him.

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

In the next hour, more guests showed up: Ky and his family were the next ones, followed by my Tio John, and finally, my brothers and their spouses arrived together. The ones missing were my parents. They lived 30 minutes away so I decided to give them some time before getting too worried. Plus, I had to do some damage control and speak to my brothers.

To show Namjoon I was serious about not being ashamed of our relationship, I made sure he was with me when I pulled my brothers aside to tell them about our relationship.

Not that I really needed to vocally proclaim it. As my brothers, Namjoon, and I made our way into an empty room, my brothers knew what was up.

“How long has this been going on?” My oldest brother, Seb, did a once-over on Namjoon as he motioned the two of us. He crossed his arms, purposely flexing his muscles. He was a couple of inches shorter than Namjoon, but he was a former boxer and still regularly hit the gym, so he was heavier set.

I could sense Namjoon getting a little nervous next to me, his eyes almost bulging out.

Vic smirked and followed our brother’s lead. He was slimmer and slightly shorter than Seb, but the countless tattoos on his arms, hands, and neck made him look intimidating as fuck.

I had to give it to Namjoon, he continued to keep his head high, even though I was sure he was internally shaking. Any other guy would have run to the door.

But I wasn’t about to let this game of my protective brothers continue too long. I stepped forward and pinched both of them in the arm.

Instantly, they turned into wimpy, little boys.

“Ow, that hurts!”

“Ayyyyy! Que mala!”

As they licked their wounds, I stood protectively in front of Namjoon. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months. Yes, it’s serious. No, not many know about us. No, I haven’t told Mamá y Papá. Yes, we understand the risks—both personal and professional. Yes, it’s worth it. And no, you cannot—and I repeat—you cannot take him to the speedway as a rite of passage. Any other questions?”

“What do you mean we can’t take him to the speedway?” asked Vic, looking appalled.

“How else do you suggest we get to know him if we can’t take him there?” Sebastian asked at the same time.

I gave them an incredulous look. “You’ve known Namjoon for almost a decade. You’ve hung out with him plenty of times.”

“That’s in the studio or when it’s all the guys together,” Seb reasoned.

“Then take him out for drinks—have dinner with him,” I suggested.

They continued to fight their case for the remainder of the day. They wouldn’t let it go.

I was pleased Namjoon found it more entertaining than annoying. He knew my brothers’ intentions were good. I had shared with Namjoon long ago that when first started dating, my brothers kept their noses out of my relationships. However, after my asshole ex damaged me, they became over-protective, always wanting to meet my boyfriends. I couldn’t be too upset about their method, especially when it seemed to work. The guys who tended to treat me well had been the ones my brothers gave full approval to. But I wasn’t about to admit this to them.

As the day continued, Bangtan and my brothers began to bond. My brothers weren’t as fluent in Korean as I was. They pretty much understood it but had trouble forming sentences. But this wasn’t a problem for them, all were enjoying the company.

I started noticing it was getting closer to serve dinner but my parents hadn’t arrived. I made my way to the kitchen to clean up a little, Namjoon joining me.

Namjoon did the dishes while I cleared and cleaned the counters. “How should I address your parents?” he asked, looking anxious.

“What do you mean? You’ve met them before. Call them by their names,” I said.

“That was before—and years ago when we were only friends. Things are different now,” he insisted. He was starting to bounce around on his heels, looking anxious.

I understood him; I remembered how stressed I was when I interacted with his parents during the online concert. “Just call them Mr. and Mrs. Luna. Be sure to use ‘sir’ when addressing my dad. You’ll have him eating out the palm of your hand. He always complains about how my generation seems to have lost its manners.”

“I thought it was Mexican custom to use their first name, not last. Shouldn’t I be calling him Señor Pedro?” he asked with a serious look.

He had such a thick accent when he said it, I couldn’t help the laugh that came out.

He gave a shy smile at my reaction. “Did I pronounce it that badly?”

I nodded. “You sounded really white.”

“I’m Korean!”

“Yeah, but you sounded like a white guy saying it.”

A brighter blush crept across his cheeks. “I should start learning Spanish.” He had a look in his eye like he was starting to make plans on hiring a private Spanish tutor once he got back to Korea.

I needed to squash the idea, quickly. I took his face in my hands so I could have his full attention. “Handsome, if you take on another hobby, it’s going to eat up the small amount of free time I have with you. Please don’t hire another tutor.”

He presented me with his dimples. “Ok.” He leaned in and claimed my lips with his.

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a kiss of gratitude.

“Get a room,” came a voice behind us.

Victor and his wife had entered with a couple of more dishes. I stuck out my tongue at him.

“We’re getting pretty hungry out there, sis. Any update from my mom and dad?” he asked.

I looked down at my phone for the 30th time in the last half hour. “Nope.”

“I’ll call them to see where they are,” suggested Victor as he took out his phone.

“I can do it. Go ahead and keep everyone entertained,” I told him. My middle brother tended to be the life of the party—a personality similar to Hobi’s. I would prefer he was with the guests, keeping the mood light.

He turned to his wife, Debi, and they shared a look.

“What?” I asked, catching it.

“You’re the host, Maya. It’s best if you’re out there instead of Vic. Let him handle it,” Debi said, trying to appear to be covering something.

I turned to Namjoon who looked as puzzled as I felt. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one feeling something was off. And as much as I wanted to question my family about their odd behavior, I just wanted this taken care of.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.” I got my phone out and selected my mom’s contact before anyone could intercept it. I headed to an empty room, closing the door behind me.

My mother answered after a few rings, “Bueno.”

“Hey, where are you guys? We’re getting ready to start dinner.”

“Oh, were we invited?” My mother’s tone was short and venomous.

I tried to ignore the fact that my skin was crawling. “What?”

“Here I thought you were having a small gathering with your friends for the holiday instead of having a proper meal with your parents.” The amount of bitterness that was coming out of my mother’s mouth was enough to melt my cell phone.

She constantly did this. Spoke in riddles when she was angry and expected me to know the reason for her anger. It was a game I always lost in.

Unlike the argument with Namjoon that I could push back until some other time, this argument with my mother couldn’t wait. I walked over to the restroom and closed the door, ensuring no one outside could hear.

“Madre, will you just tell me what you’re upset over instead of being passive-aggressive?”

“That’s a big word for you. Miss College Big Shot is putting her degree to good use.” It was snide comments like these that made me believe my mother resented me for leaving home so young to go to college. I had used the excuse that I wanted to better myself when, in reality, I had wanted to escape. College had been the way out. And my mother had taken college to mean I thought less of her because she had never gotten more than a high school diploma.

“Will you not dodge the question and tell me why you’re so upset with me?” I demanded. I had no time for her games. I had a room full of guests waiting for me, including a very excited boyfriend who was looking forward to meeting my crazy mother.

“Well, if you really must know…” she started. I could practically imagine the smoke coming out of her nostrils, she sounded so frustrated. “This is supposed to be a family holiday and you invited all those friends that we did not all agree to. Friends that you have chosen over your own blood these last two years.”

I finally pieced everything together. It was jealousy. It was resentment for me choosing to stay in Korea rather than coming back home. “Madre, I was in Korea for work.”

“You could have worked here. There is plenty use for a songwriter in LA,” she snapped.

“I needed a change in scenery,” I tried to explain.

“You wanted a change in not seeing me, just admit it. You were tired of me. You wanted as much distance between us as you could make.” She was trying to make me feel guilty.

But it wasn’t going to work. I had stopped feeling guilty a long time ago, but that didn’t stop me from getting upset myself. “I was dealing with a breakup, I hit a wall with my music, my contract was up, and a main executive felt me up in one of the label’s offices as he not-so-subtly suggested I do him a sexual favor if I wanted a better contract. So, no, it had nothing to do with wanting distance from you. I was busy trying to take care of my mental health.”

My mother went quiet. I wasn’t sure if she was going to respond and I honestly didn’t care to know. I didn’t have time to do this with her.

“I’ll talk to you later. I have a room full of loved ones waiting for me. I don’t have time to play this little game. Call me when you’re ready to talk face-to-face and have an actual conversation. If you choose not to, then I’ll see you for Christmas. Goodbye.” I hung up and took a deep breath, trying to settle myself down. I could feel a knot forming in my throat and my eyes begin to burn a little, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t do this right now. I couldn’t handle my mother and my issues right now.

Taking another breath, I settled myself and walked out of the room.

Outside, waiting for me was Namjoon. “Everything ok?” His soft, deep cocoa eyes looked gently down at mine.

I saw him reach out to me. I wanted to lean on him; let out the frustrated tears while wrapped in his embrace. It was so fucking tempting. His arms looked welcoming. However, the part of me that refused assistance with an emotional problem teamed up with my pride and held me back. I swallowed down the knot. “Just a miscommunication with my parents. I thought they would be going to Mexico next week but apparently, they already left. They should be back by Christmas, which is most important.” I needed to lie. I didn’t feel good about it. But telling Namjoon the truth felt embarrassing. And also, I knew he would insist on dealing with my emotions. And I couldn’t deal with his sweet and considerate nature right now. It would make me fall apart.

The look on Namjoon’s face was hurt. Instantly, I forgot about my frustration and felt his disappointment.

I reached up and touched his face. “I’m sorry. I know you really wanted to meet them. I was kind of excited for you to see them too.”

His eyes stayed on me, the pain still there. “I heard you arguing with her.”

I was confident he hadn’t heard any words, but just muffled sounds. I didn’t want to lie to him, but if I was honest, he wouldn’t let it go. “I was upset over the miscommunication. I’ll handle it with her later. I just really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

He wanted to insist, but held back and gave a nod, not saying another word.

We made our way back to the party and I tried to find the energy to fake some happiness.

We gathered in the round, turntable in the dining room, which seated us nicely.

For the next half hour, we all dug in and munched on the numerous dishes. There was plenty of praise I was receiving from my ceviche that I made with tilapia.

Talk of how good the fish tasted reminded me of something Jin had brought up a while ago. I turned to my uncle John. “Tio, Jin is the one who is interested in going fishing during his stay.”

One of the things Jin had wanted to do in the States was fish. I had mentioned my uncle John managed a fishing company that could take him fishing. Tio John immediately agreed to take Jin out to sea. With both of them present, it was the perfect time to have them discuss it.

My tio turned to Jin. “I would be more than happy to take you with us. Currently, yellowtail is what we’ve been catching.”

Jin gave a bow of gratitude. “I would be very happy with that. Thank you very much.”

My tio turned to me. “Mayita, you want to send him my information?”

I nodded, took out my phone, and messaged Jin my uncle’s number before I could forget.

“Maheeda?” Jin asked as he looked at me with confusion.

“Mayeeta,” I corrected him. “It’s what my family calls me.”

“That’s her way of saying you’re not allowed to call her that,” Jimin said to Jin jokingly.

“Yeah, just her family,” Hobi added with a smile.

I nodded, playing along.

Jin shook his head with a mocked sad look on his face. “Really, Maya. Here I thought we were more than friends.”

“More than friends?” Seb said with a look of shock.

“Is there something you need to discuss with your brothers?” Vic asked me. “I thought it was only Namjoon we had to square up—I didn’t think we had to intimidate two guys.”

Jin looked confused by what Vic said. He turned to Namjoon and asked for an interpretation. Jin understood English quite well, but Vic used some slang and spoke too fast.

Namjoon let Jin know what was said while trying to hold back laughter.

At hearing what Vic had said, Jin shook his hand vigorously, his face burning red in embarrassment. “No, no, no!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Beto, Seb’s husband, interceded. “Maya, are you and RM actually in a polyamorous relationship with Jin?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I said playfully. “Namjoon is too much in love with Jin.”

Namjoon shook his head, didn't say a word, and took a sip of his wine. He turned to me, cocking his eyebrow at me and giving me a look that sent shivers down my spine. It managed to travel all the way down to my pussy. I was wet in that instant as he stared at me from the corner of his eyes.

The table laughed, paying no attention to the heated look Namjoon was giving me. I was more than grateful; I did not want my family to see me aroused. Awkward. I took a sip of my own wine.

We had fun with this for the rest of the night, never missing an opportunity to make Jin feel embarrassed.

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

A couple of hours later, everyone except the guys left. The guys wanted to go down to the beach. Thankfully, not many were down there due to the holiday, so we were all enjoying most of the beach in private.

Currently, I was having a playful spat with Jin. He had just pouted about something.

“Why are you so whiny?” I asked, teasingly.

Jin continued to pout and looked insulted by my question. “Well, how should I react?”

“Like the 40-year-old that you are,” I said, not missing a beat.

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook let out booming laughs.

This only made Jin let out an exasperated noise. “Ya, I just turned 30—in Korean years. How are you going to say I’m such an age?”

“Jagi, in less than two weeks, you’re going to be 31.”

“Can’t you let me enjoy it until then?!” He looked so red.

I couldn’t stop laughing at his reaction. I almost fell backward onto the beach. Thankfully, Namjoon’s arm caught me and kept me sitting up.

“I’m done sitting here with you.” Jin got up and went to join his youngest brothers along the water. Yoongi was off in the distance taking a lone walk and watching the waves in solitude.

It took a moment to realize Namjoon and I were sitting alone.

“So when did your parents leave?” asked Namjoon almost out of nowhere.

I frowned, confused by his question. “Leave?”

“To Mexico. When did they leave?” he asked, his face straight as he looked right at me.

It took a long second for me to fully understand his question and to respond. “Just yesterday. I think.”

“You think?” he asked, looking thrown a little off. “They told you they had left but didn’t tell you when?”

My heart rate picked up. “I didn’t get too many details. We mostly argued.” That last part was true.

Namjoon turned away, giving a slight nod. I quickly picked up on his clenched jaw and furrowed brows, but he looked the other direction before I could pick up his full mood. He looked like he wanted to say something. Was this still about my not telling my brothers?

I didn’t want to pick a fight just yet, especially with the rest of the guys present. I said nothing.

Thankfully, Jimin and Hoseok made their way back to us, sitting next to us on the sand. Jin and Jungkook were playing some sort of tag game as Taehyung took photos. I had no idea where Yoongi was.

“So, who’s going back to Korea right after the concerts?” I asked Jimin and Hoseok, wanting to cut through the tension. I could feel Namjoon’s cold energy radiating next to me.

“Jin-hyung, Jungkookie, and me,” Jimin responded. “I’ll be spending the holidays with my parents in Busan. But that won’t be until late December.”

“Who will be looking after your house?” I asked.

Jimin and his brother were roommates. Usually, when Jimin was gone for work, his brother or parents looked after his home. However, if they were all going to be in Busan, I wonder who was going to be looking after his home. He had several plants.”

“No one. I have a friend who’s going to check in from time to time and will look after the plants. It’ll only be for a few weeks,” Jimin explained.

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. The truth was my attention kept going back to the man next to me who seemed to be sulking. His back was now fully turned towards me. I felt something dig into my chest.

Doing my best, I pulled my sight away from him, wanting to give him his privacy.

There was a feeling someone was looking at me. I looked up and noticed Jimin’s and Hoseok’s concerned faces. They were staring at Namjoon and turning to me, worried.

I gave them a small shake, signaling them to not say a thing.

They gave a nod and turned away, respecting our privacy.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. Jimin’s warm eyes silently asked if I was ok. I gave him a smile and nodded, not wanting to worry him. He rubbed my arm softly, squeezing me kindly.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

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