#hidden entrance wine cellar

[nicohayes]

Wine Cellar Medium in Raleigh Medium-sized transitional wine cellar with a brown floor and medium-toned wood flooring image

[madisonetjenifer]

Wine Cellar Raleigh

Example of a medium-sized transitional wine cellar with display racks with a gray floor and a concrete floor.

[tobiaslovesmydauntlesscake]

Raleigh Wine Cellar

Wine cellar - mid-sized transitional concrete floor and gray floor wine cellar idea with display racks

[cubern]

Medium in Raleigh Wine cellar - mid-sized transitional concrete floor and gray floor wine cellar idea with display racks

[funny-junks]

Transitional Wine Cellar - Medium

[championbuttmaster]

Raleigh Wine Cellar

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

break

a heartbreaking betrayal leads you to seek comfort from the very person that plunged you into this nightmare.

serial killer!keiji akaashi x fem!reader

contents/warnings: murder and extremely dubious consent, reader goes through a trauma and starts making questionable decisions, angst, oral (m!receiving), pussyjob, unprotected vaginal sex, slight bondage, praise, reader’s ankle gets a lil hurt but she’s okay, blood, slight yandere(?)

wc: 2.9k

18+ MINORS DNI

it was supposed to be the best weekend of the year.

you, your boyfriend, and all of your shared friends had been planning this getaway since last year. everyone ensured to get the time off, saved up to get the nicer rental, even splurged on a pontoon boat to be able to piddle around on the water. this lake trip was supposed to be one for the books.

you supposed it still technically would be.

you just didn’t think it would be something straight out of a horror novel.

slowly, you made your way through the hall, grateful for the homeowner’s decision to carpet the upstairs so that your footsteps could be muffled- even though much of said carpet was now stained red. you kept your eyes trained straight ahead, refusing to look into the bathroom on the left even though you could still see the limp body of one of your friends in your peripheral.

you had to save all your tears for later. if you broke down too soon, there’s a big chance you wouldn’t be getting back up. he’d make sure of that.

the wine cellar is how he must have snuck in. your group had read about in the list of amenities, but no one bothered to notice that it had a door that led outside. it was the only entrance to the house that wouldn’t have been locked. one small act of negligence and now your vacation home had been turned into a hunting ground.

you weren't sure how many of your friends were still alive. out of your original group of eight, you’d passed three bodies so far. it was out of pure luck that you managed to escape his onslaught of the second floor. you hid the second you heard your friend’s bloodcurdling scream after she’d left to go shower. dashing into one of the vacant bedrooms and yanking the window open, you’d perched yourself on the roof outside while listening to his heavy footsteps explore the room. you’d never felt so terrified in your entire life. the term ‘frozen in fear’ didn’t do it justice. it felt as if liquid nitrogen was circulating through your veins.

as soon as the coast felt clear, you quietly slid through the window and padded into the hall, bringing you to your current whereabouts.

a pained yell pierced the stillness that had blanketed the house, sounding off from somewhere near the kitchen downstairs. you paused near the top of the stairs, huddling up against the wall to stay out of view in case he happened to pass by. you couldn’t help but wonder which of your friends was the one getting butchered this time, morbid curiosity bringing a cloudiness to your frantic eyes.

you squeezed them shut. crying comes later, remember?

you couldn’t hear the shouting from below anymore, and you took a deep breath to gather your wits. you needed to find your boyfriend. you cared deeply for everyone here, but the love of your life needed to come first. this is the man you were discussing spending forever with, starting a family with, growing old together with.

even if you did make it out alive, you wouldn’t truly survive unless he did too.

there was only one clear escape route. he had already slashed everyone’s tires, so the cars weren’t an option. however, the pontoon boat was out of view, hidden within the boathouse out back. there’s a possibility he didn’t know it was there, meaning that a water getaway was your best chance at the moment.

which also meant that to get to the backyard, you needed to go downstairs. where the killer was.

every muscle in your body was trying to lock up, refusing to carry your legs down into imminent danger. your brain knew better, however. you needed to move.

wobbly legs took you down the first few steps, stopping for a second to try and tame the shakes wracking you. it was during that pause that you saw movement in one of the living room windows that gave you a view into the backyard.

it was your boyfriend.

he was creeping through the patio with his roommate, one of them monitoring the inside of the house while the other kept his eyes on the boathouse. they must share the idea that you have about an escape. you couldn’t help the smile that came onto your face. your lover was always on the same page as you. even when facing disaster, you proved you were perfect for each other.

you were prompted to move forward again now that you saw fellow survivors, this time moving swiftly. not seeing him in the surrounding area at the bottom of the staircase, you dashed to the backdoor, opening it as fast as you could without making too much noise.

“babe!” you called softly, stepping onto the patio.

your boyfriend turned to look at you, an expression in your eyes that you couldn’t quite grasp. he frantically beckoned you forward, his roommate having an impatient look on his face. you didn’t take it personally. everyone was petrified right now.

you ran towards them, joining them in the middle of the yard. the boathouse was just down the gentle slope of the yard. you could easily reach it in under a minute, especially with how fast everyone seemed to be moving. safety wasn’t too far away.

that glimmer of hope crashed along with the bloodied body that was sent careening into your group. the three of you scattered, your eyes tearing up at the wounded, torn version of your former classmate laying crumpled on the ground before you.

another thump sounded off to the right of you, and you turned to see him now standing directly behind your boyfriend. he had jumped down from the second-story balcony, when he’d gotten there, you had no clue. what you did have a clue about was that your lover was in serious trouble, because your attacker was raising his ax.

“oh, fuck!” your boyfriend’s roommate screamed. “behind you!”

he turned around just in time to see his assailant swinging his ax down, blade aimed straight for your boyfriend’s neck.

your brain hadn’t even registered your movements, deep ingrained need to protect your loved one leading you to grip one of the folding lawn chairs in your hand. you ran towards him, not even caring for the fact he could overpower you easily, and flung the chair against him with all of your might. you watched his steely blue eyes widen in surprise, clearly not used to having someone fight back, his balance breaking as he stumbling backwards, ax now lodging into the ground near your boyfriend’s feet.

a victorious grin broke out on your face. you did it! you saved your man!

the three of you took off towards the boathouse, wind whipping your hair as you ran faster than you ever had in your life. your group had a headstart of a few seconds, the killer having to unstick his ax from the grass. he was able to gain on you shortly after, though, and you figured this man had to have some sort of athletic background. no average man could pull off the feats you’d seen him do with ease.

you could see the pontoon boat, the two men a few steps ahead of you already within reach of it.

almost th-

crack!

your foot must’ve landed on a dry-rotted piece of wood, a panel of the boathouse dock breaking and sending your foot below the floor, stuck.

hearing the sound of something breaking, your boyfriend turned to see your predicament. you saw him pause, turning towards you slightly.

“help me!” you cried, eyes locked on his.

he began to take a step towards you, about to come rescue you like you had him not too long ago, until his roommate’s voice yelled out to him.

“dude, we have to fucking go now! there’s no time, leave her.”

when the words reached you, your heart dropped.

and then, when you saw the guilt come onto your boyfriend’s face as he turned and clambered onto the boat with his friend, your heart broke.

the sound of an engine whirring sent your ears ringing, watching the two of them speed away from the hell they’d willingly left you in.

your chest tightened, breathing becoming jagged as the reality of your situation tightened around you like a python squeezing its prey to death.

he left you.

the man you were supposed to marry, to have children with, to sit on front porch rocking chairs with years from now, left you to get picked off so that he could escape. after you’d risked your own life to rush at a murderer to save his.

the burning started at the corners of your eyes, spreading through your lashline before it became so unbearable that you shut your eyes, face scrunching as the drops began their descent down your cheeks.

you saw so much death, so much bloodshed, yet held it all in for the sake of being reunited with your love amidst the chaos.

for the first time that dreadful night, you allowed yourself to cry.

the sobs that wracked your body left your whole frame weak, body slumping towards the dock as you fell onto your knees, not even bothering with your foot still trapped under the wood. it wouldn’t make a difference, anyway. your biggest motivation to survive just cut you deeper than he ever could. there was no fight left in you.

god, you just hoped he’d make it quick. yet, after you threw a fucking chair at him earlier, you figured that wouldn’t be the case. damn, why did the events have to unfold like this?

you wondered what you did to deserve this?

apparently, someone else seemed to be having a similar thought.

“what a selfish bastard,” the voice, cold and cutting said from behind you. if you weren’t so numb, you probably would have flinched when you felt his hand come onto the top of your head. “you poor thing, you didn’t deserve that.”

his tone took on a sort of sympathetic note, confusion forming in your jumbled mind. was he trying to mock you? add insult to injury before he hacks into you over and over again?

the feeling of this thumb gently stroking the top of your forehead brought you to, blinking your tears away as he kneeled down beside you. his other hand then dropped his ax, fingers coming to grip your chin so gently that you almost were sent into denial that these were the same appendages shredding your friends earlier.

you hated how the word “beautiful” came to mind when you saw his stormy eyes, blood streaked all over an admittedly handsome face. the softness that had come across his features had you even more puzzled. he was trying to mock you, right?

“you’re such a sweet thing,” he said, crimson coated hands continuing to delicately hold your head, as if he knew you were fragile right now. you could feel the warm stickiness from his fingers getting onto your face.

“not many people have the courage to face me,” he said with a small chuckle as if he was taking a quick stroll down memory lane, reminiscing on all the people he’d hunted before. “but you did, because you were trying to help someone. i’ve seen so many people show their true colors while facing death, and none of them have been as good-natured as yours. you should be proud of yourself.”

your stomach started to sink.

his rambling sounded genuine. he wasn’t mocking you, he actually felt bad for you. the fucking murderer felt sorry for you, that’s how screwed over you just got.

and worst of all, his words were actually comforting you.

his palms moved to cup your tear-stained cheeks, you leaning one of them into his touch absentmindedly. so warm.

“he-” you hiccupped on another sob. “he left me. for dead.”

a frown came onto his face as he began to shush your cries, thumbs wiping your tears away, painting your cheeks scarlet. “not for dead, sweetheart. you’re good. i don’t kill good girls.”

you blinked, swallowing slowly as you replayed his words over and over again. “you…you don’t?”

“mhm,” he hummed. “like i said, true colors, angel. a lot of the people i’ve taken out were just as shitty as me. i just can’t be bothered to hide it anymore.”

maybe it was the care he was treating you with, or the nice words, or the fact that he was honestly gorgeous, but whatever it was made his words start to make sense in your scattered mind.

his attention turned to your stuck foot, moving to lift it out from under the wood. he examined your ankle closely. “it might be sprained, but i don’t think it’s broken. try not to put any pressure on it, yeah?”

he scooped you up with ease, holding you in his arms as if you were something precious to him. the two of you looked at the purple and pink hues of the sunset, spotting the departed pontoon boat that was now a mere speck on the horizon of the water.

“some people are so cruel,” he said with distaste, as if the onslaught he’d unleashed upon your friends earlier had been anything other than cruel itself. you should have made a note of the irony, but instead you leaned your head against his chest.

you found yourself gently laid down on one of the deck chairs near the boathouse, the man remaining standing as he came to your side, your face level with his waist.

“you were so good earlier,” he said, tipping your head back with his fingers to look up at him. “be good for me one more time and i’ll reward you, yeah?”

he began to undo his belt, and you should have screamed. cried. felt disgusted at his implications. but instead, you nodded your head, staring up at him like he had designed the constellations himself. he had been so kind to you, so comforting, during your lowest point. how could you deny him?

he took the leather belt he just removed and wrapped it around your wrists, keeping them tied in front of you. he chuckled. “just a precaution, sweetheart. you did hit me with a chair earlier.”

you watched on in awe as he pushed his pants and briefs down enough to free his cock, which was as pretty as the rest of him with a flushed pink tip.

“open up, sweetheart.”

you did as you were told, accepting his hard length into your mouth and sucking. he kept a grip on your chin, moving your head up and down his dick the way he wanted. you kept running your tongue along the underside as you were bobbed, drinking in the pleased sighs you heard above you.

“so good,” he breathed out. “so good, such a good girl.”

he started to move you faster, cock slipping in and out of your mouth rapidly as his high neared. he suddenly stilled, removing himself from between your lips.

“did great, sweetheart,” the praise sent tingles down your spine. “but i only like to cum in a pussy, so it’s time for your reward.”

removing his pants the rest of the way, he pulled your own little shorts off.

“sir-”

“keiji,” he corrected. “you can call me keiji.”

“o-okay,” you said. “keiji, are you gonna…you know…”

“what is it, sweetheart? don’t be shy, you can ask.”

“are you gonna prep me?”

he gave you a small smile. “of course i can get your pussy a little wet first, angel.”

he peeled your panties off, bringing his hard cock between your folds and starting to rub between them. the sensation was new to you, little moans leaving your lips. he held your hips in place, bloody fingerprints marring your skin as he continued to slide between your labia.

his cockhead started to hit your clit, increasing the volume of your sounds as the pleasure started to build in your gut.

feeling all the slick gathering on his dick, akaashi figured you were ready for him. ceasing his movements, he positioned himself at your entrance. “alright, pretty girl. deep breath.”

he felt so good filling you up, giving your walls a delectable stretch as he bottomed out in your soaked cunt. you watched him take a deep breath.

“never felt a pussy this good. you truly are special, aren’t you?”

he set a pace that was deep and steady, cradling your head against his chest as he speared you repeatedly. pants and mewls left you, his cock feeling so amazing, the nirvava it provided being the perfect distraction from your heartbreak. the calm after the horrific storm you experienced earlier, brain too weary to care that the very person providing the satisfaction was the hailstorm himself.

it didn’t matter.

nothing you thought you knew mattered anymore.

all that mattered was how good keiji made you feel, a particularly hard thrust leaving you shaking and cumming around him.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until he was cooing at you, rubbing his hand against your back almost lovingly. you weren’t sure if it was your tears or your orgasm that pushed him over his own edge.

“you’ll be okay, sweetheart. i’ll make sure of it.”

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[whxtedreams]

The Cellar

A Jackson!Joel x Reader drabble

Summary: You’re not the only person that has their eye on Tommy’s personal stash of alcohol.  

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Mentions of alcohol, Joel being cocky, what is personal space? Joel doesn’t know that’s for sure

The ask that requested this

Main masterlist

Deep underground and hidden within the depths of the town of Jackson, lies the wine cellar.

Although it was most likely built to be a hidden and secret room long before the outbreak, the wine cellar now serves as a place for Tommy’s stockpile for the Tipsy Bison.

More importantly, the alcohol he keeps for himself.

Access to the wine cellar can only be gained through a hidden entrance, known by few. The wine cellar's location is a jealously kept secret within the town, whispered about in hushed tones.

You, however, know exactly how to get inside Tommy’s not-so-well-kept secret.

You had noticed Tommy carefully closing the secret hatch behind the bar, concealing it with the rug one afternoon. The door was unlocked so you walked in and pretended not to see him magically appear behind the bar.

Now that you think about it, he had seemed unusually persistent about keeping that rug there no matter how many drinks were spilled on it

You diverted Tommy's attention by showing him your latest find - a unique and interesting collection of coasters you had picked up during your most recent looting trip. The distraction was effective as his focus shifted away from you and onto the coasters.

Under the cover of the night, the glow of the moon illuminated the streets. Tommy finally closed the Tipsy Bison for the night. As he locked up and bid his goodbyes, you seized the opportunity to slip out from under the pool table.

Now was your chance.

With quick steps, you made your way to the bar.

Excitement washed over you as you finally moved the damp, sticky rug aside, revealing the hidden hatch beneath. To your delight, you found that it was unlocked.

You pause for a moment as the hatch groans in protest, its hinges loudly creaking under the movement. A quick glance backward confirms that the bar is still empty, with no sign of Tommy. You sigh, realizing you were alone, save for the shadowy presence of the cellar below.

As you descend into the dimly lit underground room, the flickering glow from lanterns reveal endless stacks of shelves. The stale air hung heavy around you, creating an eerie stillness. The cold, rough brick walls contrasts the bright glow of the lanterns, casting dancing shadows across the walls.

You navigate through the maze of canned food and tightly stacked barrels, steadily moving deeper into the cellar. As you progress, the dancing shadows from the lanterns above reced, gradually giving way to the encroaching darkness.

But you aren’t here because of the stockpile of food. No, you are here for Tommy’s alcohol.

The sharp thump against a nearby barrel made you pivot on your heels, heart rate increasing with each passing second. The meager light cast by the distant lanterns prevent you from seeing more than a few feet into the darkened corner of the room and you assume it was just a rat.

You hope.

As you continue through the labyrinth of shelves, your eyes lock onto a door at the end of the row. It stands in a corner, partially concealed in the darkness and beckons you closer.

The hinges on the door creak as you push it open, revealing a tiny room with a simple table and a single shelf adorned with an array of alcoholic bottles. A small string light sways almost hypnotically as it casts a warm glow over the cramped room.

“If you don’t want Tommy to know someone is drinking his stash, I recommend finding a similar bottle and switching the labels with a cheaper one.” A voice says from behind you.

Startled, you spin around to face the unexpected voice.

Joel casually leans against the door frame with a bottle of wine in one hand and an amused smirk on his face. The soft glow of the light swaying back and forth creates a mesmerizing, ever-changing display of shadows across his face.

Taking a step closer, Joel pushes himself away from the door frame and leans inward, now close enough that you can feel the brush of his breath against your skin. In that moment of proximity, it feels as though the walls of the small room are closing in on you. He leans over you, shifting his weight to switch the bottle on the shelf behind you.

Joel’s smirk deepens when you don’t say anything, a soft chuckle fills the room and you swear you feel it rumble in his chest from how close he is.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell Tommy you’re down here,” He says before he leans closer to you and whispers in your ear, “if you promise me you won’t tell him I was here either.”

His breath, warm and soft, ghosts against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The brief contact is electrifying, leaving you wide-eyed.

In that moment, words fail you, your voice catching in your throat. Instead, you quickly nod your head.

The words, "Good girl," roll off Joel's tongue in a deep, velvety tone, his voice a low whisper in your ear. As he takes a step back, a smirk spreads across his face - a cocky, confident expression that seems to say he knows exactly the effect he has on you.

With a smooth, confident movement, Joel uncorks the bottle and picks up a glass from the table next to you and fills it with the contents of the bottle. His fingers touch yours momentarily as he hands you the glass, his touch sending a shiver down your spine and making your hands tremble. His gaze is focused on your eyes, seemingly enjoying the effect he's having on you as you stand there, hands shaking ever so slightly.

With a casual tone, Joel says, "Same time next week then." He walks backwards out of the room, his gaze never leaving you as he gives a small wave and a wink, then turns away to leave.

You watch silently as he disappears into the shadows, your breath caught in your lungs until he's no longer visible. Only then do you exhale, the air rushing out of your lungs as you take a shaky breath. The silence that follows is deafening, the only sound being the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“Fuck me,” you say, meaning all terms of the phrase.

Your focus shifts back to the shelves, all taste and desire lost and replaced with something else. 

Or rather, someone else.

[jadeite-art]

PotO: Erik's house floor plan (book based)

While there already exists a pretty cool floor plan of Erik's house (this one) it's constructed around the idea that there is a shore or rock formation on which the house is built and that it looks like an actual house. That didn't sit with me as the book clearly says that the house is built inside the double casing of the foundation, so I made my own model. And yes, I totally built it in the Sims.

Things we know from Leroux that helped me build the model:

The placement of the house in between the inner and outer wall of the foundation suggests that it would be roughly rectangle-shaped

There must be some kind of small platform on which you could step out from the boat. A hidden mechanism must then move a part of the wall to reveal the actual door to the house, similar to the entrance from the third cellar

The entrance from the Lake opens directly to the drawing room. I'm no expert on Victorian architecture but it appears to me that a drawing room is basically a living and based on some photos of Victorian houses I saw I concluded that there'd be a fireplace and possibly some shelves for books, even if they are not directly mentioned in the novel. Erik would also surely have a rug. Persian of course ;-)

A door in the drawing room leads directly into the Louis-Philippe room. Connected directly to it there is also an en-suite bathroom. There is also an additional door that supposedly leads to the Torture Chamber. There is a fireplace (Erik/Christine mention the scorpion and grasshopper boxes on the mantelpiece), a bed set, some kind of sofa, and a chest of drawers.

Considering how the Torture Chamber is shaped and what it does, as well as the fact that Daroga is unable to find the hidden latch on the wall that the Chamber shares with Louis-Philippe (the wall on which the peeping window must be located) I concluded that the door mentioned by Christine must actually lead to a sort of oddly shaped room/corridor that goes around the chamber where the heating system and mechanical elements are located (this unfortunately couldn't be properly rendered due to the limitations of the game). From there you can access the actual Chamber by pushing a plain frameless door. Since it opens inwards and has no handles, in order to open it from the Chamber, you'd have to resort to some kind of spring system as described in the book.

We know that the dining is accessed from the drawing room. Considering it's the dining, it must also be connected to a kitchen and pantry from which, I'd assume, one could access the cellars with wine, water, and whatever else Erik might keep in there

After dinner, Erik takes Christine's hand and shows her his room. There is no mention of them first going back to the drawing room. That led me to believe that the door to Erik's room is located in the dining room. The drawing room has enough doors as is anyway.

Leroux mentions a pipe organ that takes up an entire wall. I know organs are large but I think it would be the narrower one. Then we have the coffin in the middle (unfortunately the Sims didn't have anything I could use as the canopy), a desk the exact location of which is unknown but I'd place it near the organ, possibly some wardrobe or chest of drawers, and probably a door to another en-suite bathroom as I imagine he wouldn't be using the one attached to the Louis-Philippe.

If you like the model feel free to use it / reference it in your fanart or fanfic :-)

[thevirtualcanvas]

Eyes don't lie

Summary:

Just a bit of Thoma fluff because he's my fav.

You're being hunted by the Tenryou Commission and as a working member of the house they hide you with head housekeeper in their wine cellar.

Cue memories, and tackling the past. Thoma helps you through the difficult time,

Notes:

Hi, this is my first foray into Genshin fanfic!

I want to do an original story, but for now here's a snippet with Thoma being a cutie. Let me know what you think.

It's a "reader character" inferred AFAB.

Thanks for reading!

“Quickly now, Thoma. I do believe the wine cellar needs sprucing up. Please take my Lady in Waiting with you before our guests arrive.”

“At once Lady Ayaka. My Lord.” Thoma bowed before revealing the entrance on the dais. He bundled her down the hidden escape and pulled the door down over their heads.

Pitch black surrounded them in the tunnel. Normally he would use his vision to light his way, but right now he would have to rely on the map in his mind to navigate them to safety. He felt her warmth against his back and turned. Thoma reached for her hand in the dark and found trembling fingers; he pulsed his vision’s energy through them to give her comfort.

“Now then, right this - ugh!” He took a step forward, only to be jilted backwards. He let out a quiet laugh. “We kinda have to move this way, My Lady.”

She was frozen. Back there. Again. Black water sloshing in her lungs. The anger of the gods barking above her head.

“I - I can’t move.” She whispered, clamping tightly onto his hand.

Footsteps and muffled voices reverberated above them.

Thoma, looked back in the darkness. “Sure you can, one foot in front of the other.”

“No..”

The officiant voices of the Tenryou commission loomed overhead. They needed to move further inwards to avoid detection. Thoma tugged on her hand gently, but it was like her feet were embedded in the floor. He could hear her ragged breaths, any louder and they would be found.

“I - can’t - the dark..” The words were spat between panicked gaps for air.

Ah. Now he understands. Without asking for his usual permission he pries away from her hand, removes his vision from the loop on his belt; he squats, one arm reaching behind her knees, and the other catching against her back and then stands upright. Using her surprise to his advantage Thoma walks with her in his arms at pace down the tunnel to the Kamisato wine cellar.

He drops his vision into her lap as he picks up the pace. It’s glowing, imbued with his energy. “Keep hold of that for me. It’s so heavy to carry, y’know?” She grasps it in her hands and for a moment he swears he feels it. A cool weight surrounds his whole soul, it almost makes him stumble as he eyes the extension of himself grasped tightly in her shivering hands.

She tried to focus on his warmth, on the object in her hands that he trusts her with. It thrums with a steady heat. Just like him, he exhibits such control even with something as dangerous as pyro. A testament to the person he was; how confident he was in himself. She on the other hand was a maelstrom. Like crashing waves and stormy skies. So uncertain and full of rage her vision was in perpetual tumult, seemingly alive and screaming. She had never met another hydro user with a grey vision.

They reach an anteroom, just off the main cellar. With a bit of core strength, Thoma wrangles the house keys into the lock. It looks like a storage cupboard. With walls of shelves containing trinkets, knick knacks and a mass of wine. Thoma goes to the back, manoeuvring her legs so they don’t knock anything over; he puts her down against one of the side walls and begins to look. It’s not easy in the dark, but he eventually finds the right mechanism and the false wall opens. He doesn’t pick her up again (he doesn’t dare) but his hand covers hers and his vision. A jolt goes through them both, he shakes it off first.

“This way, my Lady.” He coaxes her forward, around the false wall into a small panic room. It has a cot and not much else. He pulls the door closed behind him and feels her visibly flinch. “Home sweet home.”

She sits, or he organises her on the cot and he leans on the wall opposite.

“Can we have some light?” Her voice is so small, and he can feel her squeezing against his vision, there is a definite tightness in his chest.

“I’m sorry, we can’t risk it. We have to trust the Lord and Lady Kamisato to take care of it, but just in case lights out.”

She doesn’t respond, but he can see against the glow of his vision she’s faltering.

“I -”

“I’m sorry Papa! Please don’t do this.” The skies above are angry and purple, the fury of the gods held back by such a thin veil.

“I WILL TOLERATE NO INSUBORDINATION. YOU HAVE SHAMED THIS FAMILY WITH YOUR WILD WAYS FOR THE LAST TIME. TAKE HER TO THE WELL.”

She screeched, begged, and looked for someone to save her. Instead they all avoid her gaze as the family guard bound her and drag her from the house. Her ceremonial robes are torn, the make-up blurred with tears and a bruise blooming under her cheek. Her bare feet are shredded by gravel and detritus as she fights against her captors.

Thunder gurgles on the horizon but she barely notices; the sobbing of her family is louder than any god.

“Father, please! I’m sorry! I won’t do anything wrong! Please…stop…”

“Refusing a proposal! Shaming your father! Your country!”

At this moment, he’s not her father. He’s a general of the Tenryou commission, and he’s punishing a soldier. Her hair whips wildly as the wind rises, sobs threaten to choke her but she holds his gaze as she is dragged in front of him. The family well was once a place of joy, where the farmers watered the crops or maids carried buckets for baths; she can remember summers chasing her siblings round it before they go laughing into the fields. At one time he would have chased her around it too.

“Enough.” He commands, “Into the well. Only the Archon can help you now.”

Her Mother screeches with a sound that pierces the sky, an unlucky soldier is tasked with holding her back. The soldiers on her arms don’t move, collectively they are thinking the General has lost his mind, they watched this girl grow. They watched her laugh, cause trouble and become a woman they couldn’t possibly…

“That is an order.” He barks, electro licks at his body.

When they don’t move, he grabs her by the shackles and shoves her towards the crumbling wall. She locks eyes with him and sees nothing but disgust. There is no love. Lightning strikes in the distance and the air charges.

“Mama! Please! Help!” Her voice breaks, fighting for her life against those who gave it to her.

His strength overpowers her and she stumbles back.

Thunder groans overhead.

“This is your punishment, face it with honour.”

The chill down her spine gives him enough momentum to shove her fully over the wall. He lets go like dropping a piece of paper.

She shrieks.

Her mother shrieks.

The General imparts his final wisdom as she falls. “Maybe if you survive the night, I’ll forgive you. Archon permitting.”

The purple blooms over head and the skies tear asunder as her body hits the stagnant, cold water. It shocks her body, limbs go into overdrive trying to surface. Everything is so heavy, the ceremonial dress, the shackles, her heart. She kicks with ferocity and reaches the surface with a blood - curdling scream as her lung desperately grabs at the squalid air. Her hands clatter against mossy rocks, incapable of griping. Each effort only heightened her fear and scoured the skin from her hands.

Another flash of lightning beckons the monsoon rain like a horn of war. Archon decreed, the rain assaults her from every side. She is drowning above and below the water all at once. She screamed only once for the sound to die in a gurgle as the rain stormed her throat. The drops fall like tiny ballistae, pelting the space around her.

Suddenly the world is devoid of sound, the fear overwhelms her. It can only be one thing.

A flash of bright white and blinding heat covers her eyes as she ducks below the surface. A lightning bolt struck the side of the well, loosening already loose bricks. Debris falls into the tiny space with her, but there is nowhere to hide. A chunk of brick hits her head, another her shoulder. A final piece scrapes down her back and falls below the surface, getting caught in the layers of her ruined gown. It yanks at her, pulling her face under the inky surface.

It’s quieter here, away from the ire of the Archon. Maybe it will be a comfort to be alone in the dark in these final moments. She should stop fighting. Just let go. It’ll be better.

No.

I deserve to live!

Thrashing in the dark, her hands clawed into life with all her might. It would take her kicking and screaming. She would tear chunks out of this world to keep it if that was required. She deserved more than being a dowry in a political game. A calm feeling blossomed in her chest, nestled against the water in her lungs.

Prove your might then… little one.

It only took a moment for her universe to change forever. She pushed from inside, and bent the world to her will. Overpowering and fierce. Grey and clashing like a storm. Then she pushed for the surface. The water rose quickly and inside of it she looked through the murky window, reached for the wall and pulled herself over. The living water fell apart and she clattered against the grass with a slap, the Archon’s will raging above her. Throwing up the well’s water, she fell to her side, arms to her chest. Something cold and bristling lay in her hands… a vision.

The gods have spoken…

“Breathe..”

A voice shushed her sobs, a warm presence anchored her back to the present.

“Just focus on breathing for me - I’ve got the rest of you.”

“Thoma…”

His hand raked through her hair, pulling the matted strands away from her clammy face. His other hand held hers and his vision against her chest. He was steadily channelling his warmth against the slither of bare skin of her chest. Anyone else and she would have questioned his motive, not with him, not now. Her own hands wrapped around his pale forearm. The pressure of her nails turning them red under her touch.

“You’re safe.” He whispered against her ear, head hanging over her right shoulder.

“I don’t like the dark.” The memory was forever fresh, like it had just happened. It was all she ever dreamed about, saw when she closed her eyes.

Thoma’s palm glowed with the magic of his vision, she could feel that warmth in her chest, it was keeping her here. “Then focus on me.”

So she does, he’s lithe and curled around her. She can feel the inside of his thighs against her hips. His broad chest hooked over her back. She can smell him, a foreign scent of valberries and something she can’t quite place. She feels, and hears the blood racing in his veins. A calming sound, so she rests against him and allows herself to mould to his shape.

“You’re so warm.”

He hums, a cheeky sound and it tickles her ear. “Oh, yeah?”

She caresses his forearm with her cool fingers, eyes closed and honed on him.

“I can smell the wind on you, like it chases you.”

There is a pulse of a fireside orange, bright for a moment. “What else?”

“You’re needlessly kind.”

“Needlessly, she says. Maybe I enjoy helping people out.”

“Even fugitives?”

He presses his chin against her shoulder. “Oh, they’re my favourite kind of people.”

“Did you know what I was when I came here?”

The sounds of the ocean rustle against the far wall, she figured they must be near the beach that ran below the estate.

His arm curled around her chest. “I make it my business to know everyone who’s working on this estate. Wouldn’t want an assassin getting in on my watch.”

Her brows furl. “I’m not an assassin”

“I gathered that. Most assassin’s don’t throw blades handles first. But yes, I knew who your family was, I also assumed if you ever wanted to talk about it, you would.”

“They’re monsters.” It was quiet, but dripping with venom.

Thoma rustled, moving his weight so his back was against the wall. She followed with, chasing his body heat, and the comfort he offered. “I often find people can be the most monstrous of all. Now, shush. Time to sleep. It could be a few hours before one of the house guards comes down to give us the all clear."

She tried not to give in, but sleep beckoned. “Be here when I wake?” She regretted it almost immediately, but he reassured her by lying down on the bunk next to her.

“Where else would I rather be?” He said calmly, his voice carrying her off into a slumber.

[madisonetjenifer]

Raleigh Medium Wine Cellar Example of a mid-sized transitional concrete floor and gray floor wine cellar design with display racks

[brickcentral]

10320 Eldorado Fortress

Ahoy mates! LEGO Pirates are here! Again! Eldorado Fortress is an incredibly photogenic LEGO set that provides an abundance of opportunities for photographers to unleash their creativity. With a bit of planning, patience, and experimentation, you can capture a great variety of pirate pictures to fulfill your hunger for this theme.

The set has 2509 pieces and 8 minifigures. It includes a rowboat and a merchant ship.

Building the set was a fantastic experience. The designers did an excellent job recreating the look of vintage walls with red printed bricks. The brick-built structure, replacing the old 3D baseplate, is incredibly cool, reproducing the old stone pattern efficiently. The fortress maintains its old charm, offering detailed views from any angle. Three cannons defend it. The redesigned crane is larger than the original and creates a beautiful silhouette against bright light.

The prison has windows with classic red shingles, breaking the white color of the towers. The fortress is unfoldable, consisting of five modules (front, back, prison, crane, and courtyard), allowing for reshaping and different background arrangements for pictures. The vegetation is improved with two additional palms and weeds to cover rocks.

The interior features stairs providing access to every location, eliminating the need for parkour-like maneuvers. When closed, there's enough space for soldiers, and the courtyard includes a table and a small kitchen. A trapdoor releases unfortunate souls into the water, doubling as the entrance to hidden caves beneath the fortress. The first is a treasure chamber, and further exploration leads to the cellar with wine barrels.

It will be available starting from July 4th at a $214.99/€214.99/£189.99 price tag

DISCLAIMER: LEGO sent this set to us but all opinions are my own.

More details on the blog: https://brickcentral.net/review-lego-icons-10320-eldorado-fortress/ - @theaphol

[nrc-confessions]

Vil kicked me from the Pomefiore GC. Again. So I'm revealing some information :)

So we have the pomefiore dungeon. But did yous know about the pomefiore wine cellar? We have shit tons of wine. Me and Malleus discovered it on Valentines day. If you press the hidden Mickey outside near the entrance (on one of the gold balls on the fencing) it'll open up - 🥀

Thank you for your confession!

There’s also a cellar down there?!?!! That’s really cool!!

BUT ALSO WHY IS THERE ONE IN THE FIRST PLACE????? 🤨🤨 maybe like 90% of us aren’t legally allowed to drink alcohol-

[alynnl]

It's taken me longer than I've planned to write the extended, unabridged version of my notes for my TGAA fan case, "Adventure of The Great Vanishing Act."

That being said, I'd like to share one of my favorite parts of it because it was so fun thinking all this up. Just this scene alone is quite long but I didn't want to leave any of it out! I hope you all enjoy!

To set the scene: Sholmes and Iris are investigating together to find Professor Harebrayne after he goes missing. With some deductions, they manage to get on the right track.

**** They begin in the last place Albert was seen - in his home, a first floor room of a three story building.  At a glance, Sholmes can tell that there were no signs of forced entry.  The door is still locked, windows are intact, as is the rest of the furniture and scientific equipment inside of the room.  

Iris points out the most notable difference - that there is no coat or scarf on the coat hanger.  It’s a clear sign that Albert must have gone out, and never made it back home. 

Sholmes takes note of the businesses nearby.  There are two places that Albert may have stopped by: a pawnbroker and a pub.  Sholmes reasons that these are places that anyone down on their luck would visit (not that he would know from personal experience!)

After Sholmes and Iris ask a few questions to the pawnbroker and tavern owner, they make their way to one of the back streets between the pub and Harebrayne’s home.  They each go forward with extreme caution into a dark alley.  The street appears quiet with very few people walking the sidewalks, and many buildings look to be in varying states of disrepair.

Iris teases Sholmes to lighten the mood, asking if he’s still afraid of the dark.

“A little fear is healthy in a place like this, my dear Iris.  But if we face our adversary, I shall be braver than ever!”

Underneath the streets that Sholmes and Iris are walking, Albert Harebrayne is alone in a dark cellar. It has very small windows near the ceiling, much too tiny to crawl through, and too high to reach.  The only entrance and exit is a heavily locked door on the top of some very steep stairs.  

After waking up and coming to his senses, Albert has spent his time trying to figure out how to escape.  Unfortunately, he came to the conclusion that he can’t get out on his own.  

(“But I can’t give up!  I owe it to Barok and Mr. Naruhodo after everything they’ve done for me!  I’ve got to find a way out of this, for their sake… and mine!”)

Albert frantically scribbles on the walls with chalk, a mix between words and equations.  It all adds up to a simple fact: if he can’t leave on his own, he’ll need someone outside to free him.  But he’s had virtually no contact with the outside world, so no one is even aware that he’s confined, much less where he is.

That’s when it dawns on him.  He needs to light a signal to let someone, anyone know where he is, and hope they’ll come to his rescue.  And to Professor Harebrayne, there’s no better signal than an explosion.  

Albert notices a rack of wine bottles behind him.  He takes a few odds and ends from his lab coat and mixes them in with the wine bottle.  He knows he will have to throw it in just the right spot.

“Right.  Here goes nothing!”

Albert tosses the bottle and it lands right where it needs to - into one of the tiny ceiling windows.

Just above, on the street level, a small fireball erupts.  A few pedestrians see it, including Iris and Sholmes.  Chaos ensues from the small fire, but Sholmes keeps a cool head.  He and Iris enter the front entrance of a rundown building.  They’re aware they only have a few minutes to act, and search frantically for any hidden rooms or passages.

Iris points out skid marks on the wooden floor, and Sholmes follows where they go.  They enter a room with a tall wardrobe, and a noticeable draft.  With great effort, both Sholmes and Iris push the wardrobe aside to reveal a door.  It’s locked by three different locks, prompting Sholmes to use his lock picks.

Once the locks fall away, Sholmes and Iris head down a steep staircase.  

Halfway down the steps, they meet Albert, who was hastily going up once he saw the heavy door finally open.

“Mr. Sholmes!  And Miss Iris too!  What are you two doing here?”

Sholmes gets to the point. “To make a long story extremely short, we’ve come here to save you.” 

Iris chimes in. “That’s right!  With our powers of deduction, we were able to find you, Professor Bunnybrain!  I hope you’re doing okay.” 

“I’m… fine.  Actually, I’m better than fine!  Thanks to your strokes of genius, I’m finally free!  I can’t wait to be home again…”

Sholmes puts on a more serious expression.  “Ah.  It’s good to know you’re not injured, Professor, but I’m afraid you won’t be going home just yet.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sholmes takes Albert by the hand and begins to lead him up the stairs with Iris trailing closely behind.

“We must hurry to The Old Bailey.  I will hail the first cab I see.”

“The Old Bailey?  You mean the courthouse?  But that’s the last place I want to be!”

Iris shrugs.  “I get why you’d feel that way after your trial last week, but I would still listen to Hurley if I were you.”

“Quite so.  We are under rather trying circumstances at the moment.  If you don’t show that handsome face of yours in the courtroom, a certain friend of yours may completely give in to despair.”

"A certain friend of mine...are you talking about Barok?  Is he in some sort of trouble then?"

Sholmes stops after they walk briskly down the streets of London, a little ways from the pawnbroker’s.

"Oh dear.  You really have no idea what's happening, do you?"

“Of course I don’t know!” Albert exclaims frantically. “If my calculations are accurate, I’ve spent about thirty six hours in that cellar with no word from the outside world whatsoever!”

Sholmes flags down a passing horse drawn cab, and it stops.

“I will have to explain everything on the way there, Professor.  Your friend Van Zieks is in the middle of a trial, and we must arrive before it ends.”

Iris does her best to sound encouraging. “Hurley and I will be right there with you, so there’s no reason to be scared.  You can count on us!”

Albert seems a little nervous as he speaks his thoughts. “I can’t even begin to form a hypothesis about what’s really going on.  But it’s clear that Barok needs my help somehow!  I’ll go with you, Mr. Sholmes.  It’s the least I could do.”

Sholmes sees to it that all of them are seated in the hansom.    

“Let us make haste then!  We haven’t got a moment to lose!”

Sholmes presses a pile of coins into the cab driver’s hands.  He mentions that there will be a bonus if they reach The Old Bailey before the trial concludes. The small open carriage practically flies down the streets of London towards its destination…

[julemmaes]

prologue from a nessian fic I'll never write, enjoy:) fair warning I wrote this while listening to my tears ricochet the long pond studio session on repeat

Word count: ~1.3k

The silence was gripping her lungs in a tight vice and she couldn't get any air in. Panic was seizing her entire body as she tried not to turn around and bolt for the exit. It was taking her every ounce of will to stay put, let them stare—let them judge.

Nesta could feel their emotions, every single drop of hatred and confusion and disappointment. Feyre was looking at her with tears in her eyes, a hand on Rhysand's chair for support, and Elain had stopped serving Lucien, her casserole completely forgotten now. She didn't dare look at Morrigan, or Amren. She knew she wouldn't be able to endure the disgust surely directed at her.

She found the courage to shift her gaze to Azriel, to the one person she'd once trusted wholeheartedly, the best friend who had seen every facet of her heart and mind and had never judged her for it. The only one who Nesta had promised not to hurt. And the only one who had tried to reach out to her every year, in the desperate hope she would one day pick up the phone, reply to a text, come back home.

She had thought she was ready. Her therapist had deemed her current situation perfect to reunite with the family she had abandoned years prior. But now, after having walked in with the same set of keys her brother-in-law had given her, during their weekly family lunch, seemed like the worst course of action she'd ever followed.

Azriel had his eyes closed, his head turned towards the backyard, like he couldn't bear to look at her. Nesta could see his jaw taunt with restraint, his shoulders tense.

She had hurt him.

She deserved his silence.

She was about to open her mouth, thinking she at least owed to these people to start this conversation, when the loud, heavy steps of someone coming up the basement snatched her every thought.

Nesta would recognize his gait everywhere. She knew he was skipping two steps at a time. She knew he was gripping the handrail with his right hand and pulling himself up just for fun.

She knew he would willingly slam his shoulder against the door frame coming out of the cellar and stumble down the corridor to enter the living room with a weak jog.

A shit-eating grin would be plastered on his face and her heart would stop.

Even without a single sense, she would have been able to know it was him. They could take her hearing, her sight, her touch... she would know.

He...

"Found it!" He shouted, then the muffled grunt as he hit the door. A deep chuckle that ran cold through her veins and the hurried steps, and there he was.

He looked so different. And the same. He looked exactly like the man whose heart she'd broken all those years before.

"Jeez, Rhys-babe, this bitch was hidden behind a gazillion other bottles, I had to move mountains to get to it."

From her position near the entrance, he was giving his back to her. He was still oblivious to her presence when he lifted his head and stopped in his tracks at the sorrow and shock on the others' faces.

"What–"

Cassian turned then, noticing everyone was looking behind him, and he stopped breathing.

Nesta stopped breathing.

The bottle he was holding dropped to the floor with an ear piercing crack that made her wince. Nobody moved to clean the expanding puddle of red wine.

Her heart stopped beating, pumping blood, keeping her alive. She was dead. She was sure of it. She was no longer standing there, in front of her family. In front of the man who still had her very soul wrapped around his fingers, even after all this time.

The emotions swirling behind his eyes as his face transformed threatened to bring her to her knees. The utter rage and torment that she knew were storming his mind were enough to make tears sting her eyes, for her throat to swell.

His agony was excruciating. It was suffocating her.

She opened her mouth and only a trembling sigh came out. The only sorry excuse of a greeting her body was willing to grant her.

Cassian blinked, his hand still suspended between them and then he took a sharp breath in. He turned his head to the side, ground his teeth so hard she worried he might break some and looked back at her.

Their eyes clashed together, she felt—for the first time in almost six years—her soul soar, reaching out to touch his. It was like she could see it, the weak, shaking fingers of her essence holding out to his, begging for him to extend any part of him he could.

She needed him to say something. Anything. Put her out of her own misery. She needed him–

"Leave. Get out."

His eyes never left hers as he whispered those words. They sliced through her chest like a sword, every letter cutting deeper than the previous. She was bleeding out on the floor in front of him.

And she deserved every tickle of blood leaving her body in racking slowness. She was desperate for it. She needed the coup de grace to come from him.

She forced herself to stay still, but couldn't bring her chin to lift like she wanted to. Couldn't make her mouthtonguelips move to speak.

Cassian stepped forward suddenly and her chest heaved. They hadn't been so close in so long. So long since she'd last felt his heat like this.

"I said get the fuck out." He ground, a single, lone tear cutting down his cheek. He did nothing to hide it.

Nesta's chin trembled and she gave the slightest nod. She made to step back, her eyes fixed on his hurt face.

I'm sorry.

She let him see it, the apology in them. She begged him to read her like he used to their entire lives.

And he did. Nesta waited for him to do anything with it, tell her it meant nothing. He took her apology and tossed it right back at her face. It now laid on the floor, crumbled at their feet.

It hit her hard then, this had been a mistake. What was she thinking? Showing up uninvited to Feyre's and Rhysand's home, after what she'd done to them?

She cleared her throat and lost the battle, lowering her gaze to his chest. Her eyes narrowed on the tiny outline under his shirt, something that was attached to the necklace he was wearing, hiding right above his breastbone. That pendant, its shape–

Cassian moved brusquely to the side, putting more than two meters of distance between them.

She felt the cold embrace of loneliness sweep her again in its arms. It felt so familiar she didn't even question the throbbing in her chest.

She spared herself the looks of disgust from the rest of the people present and walked to the door, fighting all her instincts screaming at her to go back and implore for forgiveness. Beg for a few minutes of his time to explain.

The sound of a chair scraping on the tiles, followed by another. The shuffle of clothes and cutlery against plates.

"Nesta, wait."

She halted with her hand closed on the door handle.

Azriel.

Oh god how she'd missed him. His voice.

She had missed them all.

"Fuck, no," Cassian's voice came out so angry it startled her as she turned again toward the room. Now both Azriel and Rhysand were standing. Cassian was looking at them, his shoulder raising and falling with his effort to keep calm. When he spun in her direction, his eyes were red, rimmed with tears.

He shook his head, pointing to the door. He averted his gaze, he said, "I don't want you here. So leave. I don't care what Azriel wants to tell you."

"Cass," someone pleaded softly.

Elain. Oh, Elain.

Nesta kept her eyes fixed on Cassian's breaking figure.

"Leave. Please, Nesta, leave."

His voice cracked, her heart shattered.

Nesta tore the door open and slowly walked outside.

She was an empty shell of her persona yet again, hollowed out and bleeding to death on the cobblestone path of that house that had once been her only safe place.

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[nuctoria]

Monster of a daughter

Alisha always went outside to find a new place to explore, no matter the weather of the night. Luigi, her dad, always worried at first thinking she’d get hurt going out so late at night, or get lost or catch a cold when the weather wasn’t the best. But that worry died down when she kept coming back safe and sound. It’s not like anything could happen to her anyways, she was already dead. Injuries never lasted, she couldn’t get sick and no boo or ghost could match her power. If she knew being dead had so many benefits, she’d have died way before 9 years old but then again, she couldn’t have rushed her plans back then.

She suddenly came across a mansion she didn’t quite recognise despite having been in this area before. It looked abandoned and worn down but it definitely had ghost energy not just in it but also on it. Ah, another boo territory. Maybe she’ll find one of the neutral boos in there that come by the house every so often.

With a smile, Alisha walked inside and looked around the dusty front entrance. It was old fashioned, a bit older from the Victorian era from what she could see. The wood was aged and worn, weak and soft from long exposure to the elements but the intricate carvings could still be seen. The carpet was in an even worse state, musty, damp and very smelly. Alisha chuckled at the thought of her dad coming here to see this, he’d have vacuumed the age right out of this thing. 

She walked around the ground floor, checking each room and calling out to anyone that may be haunting this place. It’d be nice to have some company while exploring but it didn’t seem like any ghosts were willing to respond to her. She hadn’t seen any boos yet either which was strange. Then again, this place did appear rather recently since the last time she passed by this area so maybe that was why. 

Alisha debated continuing her exploration, feeling bored. No ghost would speak to her, no boos to chat with and this place was hardly anything new to what she’d usually find. But she came this far and wasted enough time here so she’ll do a quick look of the upper floors and go home. Hopefully she finds something interesting tomorrow night. 

She floated past the stairs and phased through doors and walls, too lazy to open the doors for a quick look inside. First floor was equally as boring to her chagrin but the second one had a few items she could mess around with. The most interesting part was the library, curious to see what hidden gems she could find. Perhaps the history of these ghosts? Did they suffer in life like she did? Are there dirty secrets she could indulge in? She did so love a tragic tale of hate and death.

But no, nothing interesting. She threw the book she held in frustration and made her way back down to the ground floor, vexed. She expected more from this place, these ghosts, but no she just had to be disappointed. 

As she made her way to the front doors she paused and looked to her right. It was a door, a cellar door. She smiled and decided to head to the cellar. If she was to return early, she might as well bring a good wine back to her dad, she was sure he’d appreciate it. Maybe he could share it with uncle Mario and auntie Peach, or with miss Daisy and mister Peasley. Whoever stopped by first.

The cellar was very chilly and full of cockroaches, spiders and other insects but she didn’t mind them, as long as she kept her feet off the ground none would touch her. She looked around the cellar until she found the wine racks, floating over to check what sort of wines it had to offer. She wanted to find a good one for her dad that matched his taste. He didn’t drink much but still better get one he will like. 

Once she picked one that looked good enough, she turned to leave. Only for the wine bottle to shape and shatter in her hands, spilling the wine all over the place.

She was surprised at first but the magic was all too familiar. She turned towards the source with a glare.

“What are you doing here?”

The source of said power finally revealed itself from the shadows. A large body of white with glowing purple eyes surrounded by black and a crown with a glowing purple gem on top. King Boo.

“I should be asking you that. I did not expect you to wander into my mansion first. Trying to be like dear ol’ pop, are we?”

“Seriously? Another mansion? Don’t you have enough?” Alisha asked, crossing her arms.

“You can never haunt too many places” King Boo countered smugly.

“Then do excuse me, I have to get going” Alisha said uninterested as she grabbed another wine bottle.

“What? You got curfew now? You’re a ghost, Alisha, ghosts roam the night. If you had stuck to the plan and didn’t let those emotions get the best of you, you know” King Boo scoffed, making the ghost girl stop and turn to look at him.

“If I had continued to listen to you, I would still be miserable in my own anger! I was given the chance to have what I didn’t have in life!” she shouted.

“What? Love? Please, he fears you, you stupid girl. He’d never truly love a ghost, no matter how much his paternal instincts tell him to” King Boo spat, making Alisha even more angry.

“You know nothing. Dad is the best thing to have ever happened to me. I finally have everything I ever wished for. A parent that could truly love and nurture me, accept me for me and not put up a show for the public! I even got a sister out of it, one that too loves and I love her! The people I was forced to call family back then are gone for good now and even without me, they’ll never know peace. Serves them right” Alisha argued with the king, letting out her anger at the giant boo’s insults.

But King Boo merely grinned sinisterly and looked her straight in the eye.

“Would he have still taken you in if he hadn’t found out about what had happened to you?”

Alisha flinched at this and took a step back. She wanted to say that he would, Luigi was a kind-hearted man and he wouldn’t turn his back on a child soul that had suffered. But she couldn’t say it because she knew that wouldn’t be the case. She didn’t want to be the victim back then, she wanted to be the big scary villain so no one would dare hurt her again. 

“Exactly. If he hadn’t found that dairy, those catalogues and those clues, all he’d think of you was the exact thing you wanted him to believe you were. A bloodthirsty ghost who murdered her own parents and siblings and continued to collect souls to torture. He’d fear you and capture you to give to that bastard scientist, never giving you a second glance if he could help it” sneered King Boo, his grin growing when he saw Alisha lower her head. She knew he was right and he knew it hurt her more than she would ever admit.

King Boo floated over and patted her head in mock comfort.

“Aw, don’t be so sad little one. If his fear does win over his need to be your father it won’t be the end of the world. Your hatred will only grow and so will your powers. You’ll be the monster you always were. Besides, I’ll always be here to accept you back in my ranks.”

Alisha snapped out of her saddened state and kicked the king away in anger, growing even more angry when she heard him laughing.

“You’re no better than them! You’re nothing but a scumbag that should be locked away to suffer! I ain’t becoming anyone’s tool, especially yours!”

With that, she threw the wine bottle at him, not caring if it went right through him and shattered loudly on the ground, briefly interrupting the king’s vile laughter. Alisha floated away as fast as she could and all the way back home, where Luigi was waiting for her.

Luigi greeted her warmly but paused when he saw how upset she looked. 

“Alisha? What happened la mia bambina?” asked Luigi softly as he knelt down next to her.

Sono stanco…” Alisha mumbled and snuggled up to him.

Luigi understood and didn’t ask anymore questions, taking her to bed. Once there, he laid her down gently and tucked her in. He was worried for her since she didn’t get this upset most of the time and if she did ever get upset she was more angry than sad and silent. But if she wasn’t ready to talk about it, he wouldn’t force it. He just hoped some sleep would make her feel better.

With a kiss on the forehead and a goodnight, Luigi stood up to leave the room but paused when he felt a tug on his shirt sleeve. Looking down, he saw it was Alisha who had grabbed his sleeve but she still didn’t look up at him. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated greatly. Eventually, she finally managed to get it out in a quiet tone.

“I’m sorry…”

Luigi blinked in surprise and knelt down, holding her hand in his own.

“Sorry for what, sweetie?” he asked.

“For everything. For luring you into my old house. For tormenting you so badly. For trying to k-kill you… I don’t deserve this…” she explained, her voice starting to tremble at the end as she tried to hold back tears.

“That’s all in the past now, you don’t need to be sorry” said Luigi softly as he petted her head.

“But I nearly did it. My knife was mere inches away from you and i-if you hadn’t found out what happened, if you didn’t feel b-bad for me… I would have done it…” she burst into tears finally, giving Luigi the cue he needed to pull her into a hug, rocking her back and forth to calm her down.

Alisha kept crying in his chest.

“Y-you’d be dead and it would have been my fault. Or you’d catch me and leave me alone to E-Gadd. You wouldn’t be my dad and Clara would not have been my sister. I wouldn’t have Mario as my uncle or Peach as my auntie. You wouldn’t love me…” she cried into his chest, letting out all of her fears.

Luigi waited until she had calmed down a bit, taking out a tissue to wipe her tears away.

“You’re right, it wouldn’t have been this way, but it is now and that’s all that matters. We can’t go back and that’s for the best, no matter how good or bad things get. You know, when I first faced King Boo, I always thought of what I could have said or done to stop Mario from going to see that mansion. I mean, you just won a mansion as a prize for something you didn’t even enter? Who’d actually go see? I kept regretting every step I took to get me to a bad decision or situation but if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have had the reward it gave me when I surpassed that challenge. That time the reward was you.”

Alisha sniffed and looked up at him, at his kind smile.

“If I had to go through every single fight I ever had since I got here so I can have my daughters again, I would take every single step I had taken before, no matter what pain it puts me through. I’m grateful you two are my daughters and that won’t ever change” Luigi finished saying.

Alisha stared at him for a long time before hugging him as tightly as she could, Luigi returning the favour with a softer hug. Luigi often wondered if Alisha had such thoughts given what they went through to get here but he never wanted to ask and risk hurting her. He was glad she felt comfortable to tell him know so he could help her through it.

“I love you, dad. Thank you for finding me…” whispered Alisha.

“I love you too, bambina. I’m glad I found you…” whispered Luigi back.

With that, Alisha could finally go to sleep, feeling lighter and happier now that she knew she was loved and would continue to be loved by the people who mattered to her the most.