#honrumi

Happy [belated] Birthday, Rumi! 🦁🦁🦁

@honrumi asked: "Please, use me how you want."

The   door   slammed   shut,   the   lock   clicking   into   place   with   a   finality   that   echoed   through   Jinu’s   apartment.   He   didn’t   even   remember   the   drive   home,   only   the   unbearable   heat   of   Rumi’s   thigh   next   to   his   in   the   car,   the   way   her   scent,   jasmine   and   want,   had   filled   the   small   space   and   made   it   hard   to   fucking   breathe.

Now,   in   the   dim   living   room,   he   backed   her   against   the   door,   his   body   caging   hers.   Her   chest   heaved,   her   lips   already   parted   and   swollen   from   the   frantic   kiss   they’d   shared   in   the   elevator.   He   could   feel   the   frantic   beat   of   her   heart   against   his   own,   a   wild,   shared   rhythm.   Patterns   seem   to   glow   and   reveal   themselves,   for   once   not   in   shame   but   perhaps   reacting   to   the   closeness,   to   being   watched   and   adored,   just   as   he   adored   hers,   his   fingers   tracing   the   ones   he   find   under   the   hem   of   her   shirt,   exploring,   testing.   

He   growled,   his   mouth   hovering   a   breath   from   hers.   “We   shouldn't   do   this.”   He   dipped   his   head   and   captured   her   lower   lip   between   his   teeth,   sucking   on   it.   “Or   this.”   His   hand   slid   from   her   waist,   over   the   curve   of   her   hip,   and   down   to   grip   the   back   of   her   thigh,   hitching   her   leg   up   around   his   waist.   He   ground   his   hips   against   the   apex   of   her   thighs,   and   he   swears   he   wants   to   make   her   seal   the   honmoon   with   the   way   she   moans   against   him   with   every   touch.   “Tell   me   what   you   really   want,   Rumi.”

“Use   me   how   you   want.”

@honrumi asked: I don't need strength. I just need the sun to rise.

He   keeps   himself   composed,   poised,   like   a   living   statue,   the   vampire   does   not   move   or   flinch   at   the   words   of   the   huntress.   He   had   heard   plenty   of   other   threats   before   in   his   life,   and   they   all   gain   the   same   reaction   from   the   man;   a   deep   rumble   laugh   as   crimson   eyes   stare   back   at   the   young   woman.   "And   you   think   that   would   work   on   me?   The   sun   is   nothin'   but   a   tingle   upon   my   skin.   After   all   these   years,   nothing   but   a   bothersome   nuisance."   One   that   can   be   taken   care   off   easily   with   tainted   glasses,   umbrellas   and   just   avoiding   direct   sunlight   most   days.  

@honrumi asked: "I polish up real nice."

Serin’s   reflection   tilted   just   enough   in   the   mirror   to   catch   Rumi’s   grin.   The   other   girl   said   it   like   a   joke,   a   throwaway   line   —   “I   polish   up   real   nice.”   But   there   was   a   flicker   in   her   eyes,   something   between   pride   and   doubt,   that   Serin   caught   like   a   scent   in   the   air.

She   set   down   her   brush,   the   soft   clink   echoing   in   the   dressing   room   light.   “You   do,”   Serin   said   finally,   her   tone   level   but   touched   with   a   slow   smile.   “Almost   makes   me   wonder   how   much   of   that   shine   is   polish…   and   how   much   is   just   you.”

Serin’s   gaze   held   steady   —   unreadable,   glimmering   like   glass   about   to   crack   or   catch   fire.   Then,   with   the   smallest   shrug,   she   turned   back   to   her   reflection,   adding,   “Either   way,   it   works.   Don’t   dull   it   trying   to   match   the   rest   of   us.   Originality   is   the   best   path   to   sucess.”   Rumi   likely   new   it   but   in   their   industry,   sometimes   synchronized   choreographies   and   matching   outfits   would   lead   to   disasters.   So   she   just   reminds   the   other   that   being   herself   was   the   best   way.

@honrumi asked: She'd been trying to get the words out for a minute now , every attempt sounding more and more like she was having a stroke. Or more accurately like she was beating around the bush. Finally when Mira turned around , Rumi more or less screamed. "I'M SEEING JINU!"

Mira   does   her   best   to   be   patient   and   wait   for   Rumi   to   speak   up   and   say   her   peace.   She   is   trying   to   get   better   at   that,   not   rushing   or   getting   on   her   own   nerves   because   she   wants   honesty.   But   it   is   hard   when   Rumi   seems   like   she   is   dancing   around   a   topic   until   it   finally   comes   bubbling   to   the   surface   in   three   big   words.   It   takes   her   aback,   eyes   wide,   first   in   surprise   and   then   in   confusion.   "Woah!   So   that's   what   you   been   hiding   in   your   room?   Your   little   demon   boyfriend?"  

@honrumi - JONGSU - STARTER

The most difficult part of escaping the demon realm hadn't been the Honmoon...namely because the one that had replaced the former one was less ALL-ENCOMPASSING in terms of how much it allowed to pass through.

No, in order to leave, he had still been made to get through GWI-MA. That was the only way to the human realm, through the tenth kingdom. Jong-Su hadn't managed to kill the Mad King, but he had subdued him long enough to find passage back to the realm of humanity...a place he hadn't been since the day he'd lost the woman he loved...as well as their daughter.

Now, standing at the door buzzer of the penthouse, there was some evidence of his battle with Gwi-Ma. Mostly, he looked WEAK, in need of rest. He had found his daughter...a chance to right one of the wrongs that had cursed him decades ago.

Lightning flashed across the sky as the rain continued to batter the sidewalk, and he did look a little bit like a wet cat as well, downright pitiable. It had only been because of his weakened state that he hadn't hesitated, pressing his finger to the buzzer. Once more, there was a flash of lightning, making his markings all the more visible for just a few moments as he looked to the door with anticipation.

"Rumi..." he realized how quiet and far away his voice sounded, but wasn't sure if that was because he was grappling with unconsciousness, or if he was just not strong enough to speak louder. He tried again, a little louder. It still sounded far away to him. "Rumi..."

Jong-Su's vision blurred and he realized a bit too late that his knees were buckling beneath him. His form landed on the sidewalk before the door, and everything went dark for a time.

@honrumi

! ! !

Bobby's attention was immediately drawn to Rumi as she had taken a seat in one of the chairs within his office, declaring the falsehood of love.

Well, he couldn't just leave THAT well enough alone.

He looked at all of the girls as sort of surrogate daughters, and when one of them was HEARTBROKEN, he would move heaven and earth to help. It wasn't too often that anyone came to him for advice, as it seemed that the Idol before him was, and he didn't want to mess this up.

Concern was etched into his features, as well as a little bit of confusion. "Huh? Oh Rumi, no, that's not true. What's got you feelin' blue, hm? C'mon, tell me all about it, I'm all ears."

As if to undermine him, his phone begun to go off on his desk. His eyes shot quickly to it, but upon seeing it was just his dry cleaning, he huffed a bit and swiped the call to voicemail and returned his full attention to Rumi.

@honrumi asked: "Let’s stay like this a little longer."

Jinu   blinked   slowly,   the   dim   light   of   morning   slipping   through   the   curtains   and   painting   soft   lines   across   Rumi’s   face.   Her   words   lingered   in   the   quiet,   a   tender   plea   that   pressed   deeper   than   she   could   know.   For   a   moment,   he   only   watched   her,   his   chest   rising   and   falling   in   a   rhythm   that   matched   hers.   In   here,   he   allows   himself   to   show   his   patterns   and   in   turn,   her   own   seem   to   seek   his.   The   world   outside   would   call   soon   enough—demands,   dangers,   the   endless   cycle   he   had   grown   used   to.