#IL EST DEAD

[mapplesand]

big day for french people the old nazi just died

[piemaker-from-gallifrey]

JEAN MARIE LE PEN EST MORT !! PUTAIN MAIS OUI !! OUIIIIIIII !! MAIS MERCI !!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🍾🍾🍾🍾 Pour fêter ça je vais m'acheter une petite tarte au citron et je vais y mettre une putain de bougie !! 🎉🍾

[v4mpiv0re]

ma meilleure pote m'a dit sur jean marie le pen "dis toi là il doit être en train de s'expliquer devant Dieu" et il n'y a rien de plus réel, mtn par pitié ça doit continuer pour tous les autres

[vinstinx]

JE MEURT- il est trop fort

[flashbic]

No Archive Warnings Apply / rated T parce que le Lorrain est un peu trop horny pour son propre bien, un peu de angst pour la forme, Le Lorrain/Falconi

Falconi a pris la décision de rejoindre les Cartouchiens. Une décision évidente, et pourtant faire une croix sur le passé se révèle plus difficile qu'il ne l'aurait cru. Alors qu'il se questionne sur sa place au sein de sa nouvelle famille, le Lorrain interrompt ses pensées.

Je voulais attendre d'avoir un dessin pour aller avec celui-là, mais Woups, trop tard. Techniquement ça se passe quelques temps après La Longue Fanfic... qui est pas encore finie, mais c'est pas grave, ça peut probablement se lire tout seul comme si c'était juste un AU.

[risiblesamour]

"Et la vie suit son cours, chaque lendemain a son histoire Le chemin le plus court, rentrer avant qu'il soit trop tard Et la vie suit son cours, chaque lendemain a son histoire Le chemin le plus court, rentrer avant qu'il soit trop tard" Les ennuis- Izïa&orelsan

[jules-and-company]

THIS FUCKING QUOTE OUGHHFHF

[krenenbaker]

Henry Reading This Piece: A Five-Act Performance

Ah. Ahgag. huhggggghghghuhhhga....

I read this. Then read it again. Then opened it on my laptop and read it another time. Then started typing up my reblog and read it again.... another few times ^^ THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

This is SO MUCH MORE than I could have ever anticipated from the request I sent in.... c'est absolument parfait. Dove, this is incredible.

For starters, the setting being one of his FAMILY"S VILLAS??? Him being open and trusting and vulnerable enough to show you part of his past, let you into his space, his family life, his world. That alone has me vibrating!

But then you add more. Him being all relaxed and casual (haahh... that outfit. oh gods. I'm not okay. I'm not okay at all.) but is still just HIMSELF. His weird, Rook-ish self.

AND THEN THE PAINTING!!!! It sounds absolutely gorgeous. It's the exact kind of thing you'd expect to find at a seaside home, but also completely unique! A painting and a music box and, it seems, also something else. I love how ambiguous you left it - it makes so much sense to do that with how secretive Rook is in general!! I have a few ideas as to what it could be or mean; it's obviously some sort of magical item, but what its exact function is is such a curiosity. I love it!! Although, I do have a pretty clear idea as to what else may happen on this petites vacances... (❁´◡`❁)

BECAUSE IT'S ALREADY HAPPENING!!

His little slip of the tongue, the physical closeness that it doesn't even seem like he realizes he's doing... Rook has let himself become so vulnerable. So drawn in. He has lost the game. And it's the most beautiful thing ♡

Thank you so much for continuing to feed my Rook Hunt brainrot. I hope you enjoyed writing this piece as much as I enjoyed reading it!

Hi Dove!

I love love LOVE the theme of your event here - it's so cozy! Your mind is simply brilliant.

For this, may I request Rook with the prompt "Discovering old secrets" and the emojis 🎵 and 🖼 ?

If that has already been filled in some way, could I instead request Trey with the prompt "Warm mornings" and the emojis 🪴 and 🧇 ?

I forsee some absolutely beautiful pieces coming out of this event, and I hope you enjoy yourself! (Just don't work yourself too hard, okay? :) )

Discovering Old Secrets; Rook Hunt

Content; Gender-neutral reader, mutual pining but make it a strategy game

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; You don't actually find what the old secret actually means, but that's a part of the fun. I hope you enjoy this playful Rook drabble!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You didn’t really know what to expect from Rook when he proposed going on a ‘vacances à la mer’. There was something other than teasing in his eyes; vulnerability. This wasn’t any run-of-the-mill cottage by the sea, no. It was less of a cottage and more of a villa… one of his family’s villas.  

This was a huge leap in your relationship status, as the two of you were having this game of sorts to see who would actually confess first. And so far, no one has yet come out to be the victor. Sure, it was silly and trivial, as you both liked each other, but it was more fun — on Rook’s end — and you were curious as to how long this could play out. It was a game of 4D chess, and the two of you were skirting around the other with no clear sign of when a checkmate would happen.

Perhaps you were finally getting closer to achieving this, after all, Rook is very cryptic when it comes to revealing any deeper information on him, or his background.

“Your head seems to be in the clouds, Trickster,” he chuckled, sending you a teasing wink. “Would you be kind enough to share?”

Well, he sent you a wink, not that you could really see it, as you were busy putting away some of the sparse belongings you had. “Not really,” you shot back, looking at him through the corner of your eye.

Rook was leaning slightly on the doorframe, hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and wearing beige linen pants and a white linen shirt. This was the most relaxed and casual you had seen him… it wasn’t a bad look. “You wound me,” he sighed, shaking his head, “my heart cannot take it!”

“Are you going to help me or just stand there?” What are you playing at, Rook?

Rook chuckled but slowly sauntered over, and started putting things away how you liked them. At first, it did creep you out that he knew how you liked to store your belongings, but he’s Rook and that’s just a Rook thing. And right now it was nice having an extra pair of hands; many hands make light work.

You bumped something off the shelf by accident, which Rook caught like it was nothing. Reflexes sharp as a knife… or one of his arrows you suppose.

“I haven’t seen this in years,” he mused quietly, turning over the painting that you had nearly sent crashing to the ground. Rook turned his gaze to you, a soft smile making the corners crinkle slightly. “This painting, mon chou, holds a secret…” and I believe you can unlock it. Rook gently handed the painting to you, his calloused hands brushing against yours. 

You inspected the painting; it was of this very villa. The detail was beautiful, including the hand-carved driftwood frame. Running your fingers over the groves you found something small, round, and metal. You pressed it.

Gentle piano music emanated from the painting, and the scene was changing. Rook had his head resting on your shoulder as the scene played out; two figures were now in the painting, skirting around each other as if dancing. And then the one figure, who looked an awful lot like Rook, took the other’s hand as the music faded out, setting the painting in place.

You wiggled your shoulder, prompting Rook to get his head off of you. “What was that? It was beautiful, but what does it mean?”

Rook just gave you a cheery smile and winked, “That’s for you to discover in your own time, Trickster.” He patted you on the shoulder and went back into the main living room, leaving you alone to ponder over what that painting was really about. But Rook knew.

So I will lose this chase? He looked back over his shoulder as you straightened the painting with care. He watched as the painting shifted back to its original state. Hmm, not that I mind… as long as they are happy with cornering their quarry. Funny, no? Le chasseur d’amour has become the helpless prey… not that I mind.

~~~~~~~

*vacances à la mer; vacation by the sea

*mon chou; the literal translation is 'my cabbage' but it means 'my darling' in this context

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[janus-cadet]

Dites voir, fandom du Visiteur, ça fait un bail :D

Je suis en train de retomber sévèrement dans l'hyperfixation du fandom, figurez vous. Voici donc une quatrième carte de tarot : Judith, pour le Six d'Epées !

I love her your honour

Sous la coupure, un bon gros pavé des familles pour expliquer un peu qu'est-ce que c'est les histoires. Plus, en bonus, les trois cartes précédentes, qui ont pris de l'âge mine de rien.

Pourquoi donc que ce choix là, donc ? Eh bien, c'est plus une question de plot que de personnalité. En particulier l'épisode de la saison 3 que nous connaissons tous, et duquel je me suis totalement remis parce que ça fait des années quand même (c'est faux le traumatisme ne disparaîtra jamais)

La carte, donc, lorsque tiré droite, indique que vous (oui, vous. Je vous vois) êtes dans un moment de transition. Vous laissez derrière vous ce qui vous est familier, et vous vous avancez vers l'inconnu. Ce changement vous est imposé, sans doute par un charmant coup de couteau dans le bide. Rip, vous. Vous êtes peut-être triste, ou effrayé.e, à l'idée de quitter ce que vous connaissez ; mais sachez que ce changement est une incroyable nouvelle chance ! Il est essentiel pour que vous grandissiez en tant que personne, pour que vous puissiez faire de nouveaux choix... Vous avez bien fait de faire installer cet implant, dans une autre réalité. Votre tristesse laissera bientôt place à l'acceptation du changement, et vous aurez l'occasion de devenir une personne meilleure. Il n'est plus utile de vous attacher au passé (à la vie. Oopsie), ou même à vos circonstances présentes (quel petit bâtard, ce Dario). C'est votre moment : à vous de faire vos choix, et de recommencer à zéro. Petite veinarde. Bien sûr, n'oubliez pas de bien réfléchir à vos bagages émotionnels : vous avez porté avec vous un poids de votre propre fabrication, qui a pu nuire à vos relations. Vous devez comprendre ce poids, comprendre ce qui l'a rendu si lourd, et faire ce qui doit être fait pour éviter de réitérer les mêmes erreurs.

A l'envers, grosso modo, c'est la même idée. Mais, ahah, p'tit subtilité ; votre voyage, votre changement, se fait d'un point de vue spirituel. Vous savez, puisque vous êtes dead. Vous pouvez être en train de résister à ce changement, parce que vous essayez de dormir et que ces types n'arrêtent pas de sonner à votre porte, merde. Mais ça ne sert à rien de lutter, de résister : le changement va avoir lieu. Il faut l'accepter. Vous avez l'occasion de revenir sur vos regrets et vos remords. Foncez !

Et voilà qui conclue cette petite logorrhée verbale. En espérant que ça vous ait plu !

J'ai très envie de faire une carte pour notre vénérée reine Clothilde IV. A voir...

[maeslastbraincell]

Empty chairs at empty tables translation from the les Mis new french Châtelet version

There is a grief that I bear (Il est un deuil que je porte)

Heavy on the heart, like a regret (Lourd au coeur comme un regret)

Alone before those empty tables (Seul devant ces tables vides)

That they'll never see again (Qu'ils ne reverront jamais)

We were gone to change the world (On partait changer le monde)

We were dreaming of equality (On rêvait d'égalité)

And of a morning of light (Et d'un matin de lumière)

That never rose (Qui ne s'est jamais levé)

From the table under the window (De la table sous la fenêtre)

Filled with mad hope (Habité d'un fol espoir)

Children took upon weapons (Des enfants ont pris les armes)

I can still hear them (Je les entends encore)

Those burning words that they have sung (Ces mots brûlants qu'ils ont chanté)

Were their last will (Furent leur dernière volonté)

On the empty barricade, at dawn (Sur la barricade déserte, à l'aube)

You, my friends, forgive me (Vous mes amis, pardonnez-moi)

For being here, for still living (D'être là, de vivre encore)

There is a grief that we keep (Il est un deuil que l'on garde)

When all sorrows are dead (Quand tous les chagrins sont morts)

And I see your shadows pass (Et je vois passez vos ombres)

And I mourn our lost joys (Et je pleure nos joies perdues)

Alone before those empty tables (Seul devant ces tables vides)

That you will not see again (Que vous ne reverrez plus)

Oh my friends I want to believe (Oh mes amis je voudrais croire)

That you didn't die in vain (Que vous n'êtes pas morts en vain)

Alone before those empty tables (Seul devant ces tables vides)

I am not sure of anything anymore (Je ne suis plus sûr de rien)

(Thanks @lumierearouet for helping with the translation for that one!)

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - In The Inn

I'm not dead ya'll, the words just aren't wording

Small chapter because if it was longer it would have never came out lol

@ancha-aus your seat is reserved

I have a migraine again

First

Prev

Next

Cross felt nervous, he didn't know quite why, he was going to introduce Blue to his friends and it wasn't like Blue was going to react badly given the fact he was happy to meet Killer and Killer is, well, a criminal, so if he was excited about Killer he would be excited about the others too.

They were walking between the trees, Cross leading them, when Blue caught up to Cross, leaving Killer behind. Killer was frustrated anyway, mad that he had lost the bag of bread.

- Tout va ben ? Blue asked if he was alright, seeing Cross's tensed look.

Cross glanced at him before quickly nodding, he was fine, he couldn't be more fine, Blue was going to help them, there wasn't any reason to feel anxious.

When they arrived Horror was up, standing guard, Dust was standing next to Nightmare, Horror's fur coat on his shoulders, and Nightmare hadn't moved, still sitting on the ground and looking in the opposite direction of Dust. Seemed like he was still pouting, Cross wondered how long it would last, hopefully not to long. Horror went to greet them, but stopped when seeing Blue.

- Ær ir hann ? He asked to Cross.

That sounded like a question, and judging by the situation and the look he just shot Blue, he probably asked who he was.

- Mon amic, Blue.

Cross replied as simply as he could, hoping Horror would understand, but his expression didn't let that show. Dust arrived next to them, looking at Blue who frowned when seeing his strange clothes but said nothing about that.

- "Amic" you said ?

Cross nodded, surely Dust knew what that meant, as he frowned for an instant before turning to where Nightmare was still sitting, turning his back to them.

- Hey Nightmare, amic is ami, right ?

Nightmare didn't answer.

- ... okay thank you, Killer can I have my dictionary ? The big book ? Dust asked, pointing at Killer's bag.

Killer tilted his head sideway before nodding and taking the big book out of his bag and handing it to Dust who thanked him and started looking through the pages.

- Okay so friend iiis... félagi ! He announced, looking up at Horror who nodded and smiled at Blue, before looking at the latter again. So you're Cross's friend ? Cool, I'm Dust, he's Horror, and the guy pouting is Nightmare, he introduced as he pointed at everyone.

- Blue, vous soiez le ben venu. He saluted with a bow.

Cross couldn't help but stare at Dust, amazed once again by his talents, managing to understand a whole situation with just one word and translating it in three languages, he was impressive, and he did it so effortlessly too. He snapped out of his thoughts when Blue elbowed his arm, turning his attention on him he saw his friend smile at him, arching a brow. Cross decided to ignore it for now, they had more important to do, he had to tell them there was an inn they could eat at.

- Il est une herberge, nos y allons mangier.

He didn't expect them to understand any word aside "mangier" which they all knew by now: eat, so he gestured in the direction of the town so that they would at least understand they needed to go there in order to eat. They nodded, at least Horror and Dust nodded, Nightmare was probably too far to hear them, so Cross pointed to Killer to go tell him they were leaving, as he was the only one having a language in common with the noble.

Killer went as requested, and Cross could hear what they were saying even though he didn't understand it.

- Relinquimus. Killer said.

Nightmare looked up to him, arching a brow.

- Iter bonum facite ?

Cross didn't know what Nightmare answered but it seemed to have taken Killer aback because he made a face as if he just heard the biggest nonsense of his life.

- Venisti nobiscum !

Nightmare didn't respond right away, then mumbled a "scilicet" as he got up and followed Killer to get back with the rest of the group, though he kept a little distance between them. Cross didn't know why he was so distant all of a sudden, but maybe he just didn't like the change of environment. He would have to ask him when they got to his home, and maybe he'll even relax on the way there.

And so they made their way towards the town, Blue leading everyone and Cross walking behind to make sure everything was alright. They walked through little streets as to not meet too many people, and ended up arriving in front of an inn, not far from the big place of the town, but a little bit hidden behind other buildings. It seemed closed, but Blue knocked anyway.

A few moments later a rather short skeleton opened the door, he had beige eyelights and wore an apron, he smiled when he recognized Blue but the smile quickly turned into a frown when seeing the others and he pulled Blue inside to talk to him in private. Cross knew him, he had been to his inn quite a few times: Ccino was a good friend of Blue.

They patiently waited outside, Cross praying that he would let them in despite being closed, and when finally he opened the door again and Blue ushered them inside he couldn't hold back a relieved sigh.

They all came in, Cross closing behind them. The restaurant part was clean and the chairs were on the tables, though Ccino was already putting some down for them to sit on. It was a nice place, it was warm thanks to the fire burning in the fireplace and the heat from the kitchen, and a few stray cats were trotting through the place and between the tables, they were necessary to chase off the mice but Ccino also took pleasure in feeding and taking care of them, so much that he had rearranged some spots especially for them to nap on. Killer gasped when seeing the cats and almost instantly crounched down to be at their level, petting every cat that came near him with a wide smile on his face. Horror bent down to pet one when feeling the little animal press itself against his leg, the cat was soon to purr and demand more gentle pats from the giant. Nightmare watched him for a second before frowning and turning to look at something else. Dust was inspecting every details, walking around carefully without touching anything to take closer looks, seeming mesmerized by every little thing. He took out his magical rectangle and put it in front of what he was looking at, Cross didn't understand what he was doing, but he seemed happy to do it and was smiling, his eyelights clearly shining.

Blue ushered them towards the table, Ccino having left to the kitchen to prepare something quick for them to eat. They all sat down, thought Killer seemed sad to leave the cats so he grabbed one to keep it on his laps; the cat accepted its fate and purred loudly.

Ccino soon came back with everyone's plates, he had leftover chicken soup from the previous day, it was still good to eat.

- Bon repast. Ccino bowed, wishing them a good meal.

The group thanked him, all eager to eat something hot after having spent the whole night outside. A cat jumped on Nightmare's laps, making him jump and Killer snort.

- Awww, tibi dicit salve ! He cooed, petting the cat, though Nightmare seemed embarrassed to have been surprised.

The noble didn't answer anything, gently nudging the cat to try and get him to jump down but quickly giving up when it didn't move from his laps. Guess he was the new napping spot.

Their meal was calm, Blue asked Cross many questions about his new friends and where he had been and Cross answered the best he could, quite relieved that his best friend seemed so accepting of the others and excited to know them better.

When they were done eating Cross helped Ccino with the dishes as to thank him for the free diner and also the rooms. Ccino had told him he had prepared two rooms with clean clothes for them to put on, that it was old clothes people either left behind or that he kept in case people in need came by here, like now. Cross was very thankful.

When he joined the others to figure who would sleep in which rooms, he was surprised to see only Blue was waiting for him, a big smile on his face, seeming too excited for it to mean something good. Cross knew he had something planned, and he would soon figure out what: Blue had decided who would go where.

There were two rooms with three beds each, and they were six: Blue, Horror and Nightmare would sleep in the first room, and Killer, Dust and Cross in the second. Of course Blue had put Cross with Dust, he saw the way he looked at him.

Cross wasn't so happy anymore about Blue's investment.

Blue, however, was delighted.

The night would be long.

[lnfours]

london bristol boy | l.n

summary: hi! would it be possible to get a second part of Daylight? maybe Charles finding out or Lando telling Charles? that would be so good. I love your writing❤️ thank you so much! - @powerfulmess

warnings: fluff, a bit of awkwardness, language, slightly protective!charles, loving boyfriend!lando, leclerc!reader

masterlist | part 1 | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

charles didn’t know what to expect when maman had told him you were bringing your new boyfriend to family dinner. he expected someone normal, someone you might’ve met through a friend or a dating app or something.

but when one of his friends walked through the door, one hand on your waist and the other holding your mothers favorite flowers, he couldn’t help the steam almost pouring out of his ears.

on the other hand, arthur thought it was hilarious.

“you owe me twenty dollars,” arthur smirked and charles rolled his eyes.

“you knew?”

“anyone with eyeballs could tell they were into each other,” he said, “you’re just oblivious.”

you and lando made your way over to the couch, your brothers hugging and greeting you. lando stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving a tight lipped smile to a not so happy looking charles. arthur gave him a pat on the back, going to help in the kitchen.

“good luck, mate,”

lando nodded at him, mumbling a sarcastic, “yeah, thanks mate,”

“charles,” you pulled your brothers attention from your boyfriend, “can i speak with you for a second?”

he nodded, following you outside. you closed the door and sent lando a small reassuring smile. he gave you a nervous one back, silently saying ‘please don’t leave me alone in here for long’.

you looked over at your brother, “i’m sorry, we should’ve told you before we came to dinner,” you said, “but it’s new, like a few weeks old new, and we’re still trying to figure everything out,”

you took a deep breath as he stayed silent, letting you continue, “im sorry, char.”

he sighed, “yes it was a surprise, but as long as he makes you happy, amor-“

you cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck, causing him to chuckle before he hugged you back.

“s'il te fait du mal, il est mort,” (“if he hurts you, he’s dead”)

you laughed, “il ne le ferait pas.” (“he wouldn’t”)

“oh je sais qu'il est amoureux de toi depuis des années.” your brother smiled and you blushed softly. (“oh i know, he’s been in love with you for years”)

“so have i,”

“i know,” he smirked, nodding towards the door, “c’mon, better go save lover boy maman’s burning questions.”

you laughed and entered back into the living room, looking around until you saw lando in the kitchen, helping your mom chop vegetables. your brother snorted next to you, which made you let out a tiny laugh.

lando’s head snapped in your direction and he could tell the two of you were making fun of the apron that had pink and white flowers all over it.

“you two are just jealous you can’t pull this off,” he said and you laughed softly, coming to stand next to him.

“yeah, baby,” you said, “the grandma flowers really make your eyes pop.”

“thanks, honey,” he smiled sarcastically at you, nose scrunching. you let out a giggle before placing a kiss on his cheek, your hand on his shoulder.

“maman,” you said and she lifted her head up, “puis-je voler lando un peu ?” (“can i steal lando for a bit?”)

“bien sûr ma chère. charles, s'il te plaît, prends sa place,” (“of course, my dear. charles, please take his place.”)

charles groaned and lando laughed, taking the apron off and tossing it to him. you led lando out of the room, “have fun, mate!”

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” charles mumbled, tying the apron around his waist.

“elle est si heureuse, elle rayonne,” maman smiled at her eldest son, “il pourrait être le bon.” (“she’s so happy, she’s beaming. he can be the one.”)

charles smiled over at his mother, “peut-être que tu as raison, maman.” (“maybe you’re right, mom”)

“je ne le suis pas toujours ?” (“am i not always?”)

he laughed and shook his head, meanwhile you and lando were sitting on the front steps, your head on the shoulder of his black button up shirt. you looked up at him for a minute, just taking in his side profile and how well he dressed today.

“you want a picture, babe?” he smirked over at you and you rolled your eyes.

“you wish,” you said, “no, you look good, baby.”

he’d smile, eyes traveling over you in the white flowy dress, “you look even better,”

you smiled, laying your head back down on his shoulder as he pulled you closer to his side.

“this is a nice little place,” he said, looking around, “can see why you love coming back home so much.”

you nodded, lifting your head up, “yeah, but home isn’t where the heart is,”

he smiled softly, eyes meeting yours, “you and these damn taylor swift references,”

you laughed, “okay, but she’s got a point!”

“i’m not from london, baby.”

“okay, okay, fine,” you smiled, “bristol boy, better?”

“better, thank you,” his lips pressed against your temple. you shivered slightly as the wind picked up a little.

“you cold?” he asked, “i have a hoodie in the car,”

you shook your head, “it’s okay,”

“you sure?”

you nodded, slipping your hands underneath his shirt and finding his stomach. his skin warm, but he still jumped slightly at how cold your hands were. you laughed as he shook his head, “it could be a hundred degrees outside and i swear your hands would still be cold.”

“you’re just as lost about it as i am, trust me.”

he let out a laugh, ignoring how your fingers were tracing the indents in his stomach of his abs. he bent down towards you, noses bumping as he used his to lift your head up slightly before he closed the gap between you. he kissed you sweetly, lovingly, his lips moving from yours to your cheeks to pepper kisses along the skin after.

“i’m happy i drunkingly broke into your house that one night.”

he laughed, “i am, too, love. i am too.”

[teabreakpancakes]

Can you do Joseph,Aesop and Wu Chang with a male s/o who is a demon like Nezuko

male s/o used to be a lab experiment and he likes wearing kimono

Bound By The Red Spider Lilies Joseph, Aesop and Wu Chang x Male! Reader

although this is a male reader request, i don't actually use gender specific pronouns while writing, i use the personal pronoun "you" mostly

Genre: Fluff

You were a new hunter that arrived a few days prior, someone of Japanese descent like Miss Michiko. They were only told one sentence about you: "That muzzle keeps all the residents of the manor safe, it's in your best interest to keep that in mind". Throughout your stay, you piqued the interest of a certain hunter/survivor, luring them in with your charm—although, should it not be the flower that is picked and held captive?

𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒

"Il est beau" Joseph muttered under his breath, onyx eyes gleaming under the old fashioned chandelier of the manor's living room. He could only admire you for so long until you noticed, your head snapping in his direction, tilting towards your left inquisitively.

Joseph coughed into his gloved hand, an elegant and practiced smile gracing his face, sheepishness barely visible to those that didn't know him—had he been alive, he would've been blushing. "What book are you reading amour?" he questioned, not wanting to explain why he was once again caught watching you like a moron. You shook your head, eyes smiling as you showed him the front cover of the book. Joseph sat down beside you, leaning over slightly to trace the engraved title. 'The book appears to be of Japanese origin', he guessed, unfamiliar with the letters used.

"Would it trouble you if I asked of you to read this book to me?" he inquired in a hushed tone, peering into their unnaturally coloured irises. It was a lighthearted request, one he had been withholding for a while; He knew that if he were to ask, you would not hesitate to indulge him, he know that only he had the privilege to hear your voice, to see your smile, to hear you laugh. Your voice was a treasure to him, one that meant you trusted him.

Your broad shoulders shook with a silent chuckle, nodding at the French aristocrat. You stood from your seat on the couch, holding out a hand for the photographer to hold. You departed, walking side-by-side towards his room. He traced patterns into your warm skin; Had he not known you were a demon, he would've taken you for a human, but he supposes it was unnatural for him, a dead man, to possess a heart that beats once more.

he gifts you kimonos of high quality, as well as a few traditional japanese treats (he asked miss Geisha)

hums lullabies to you on nights where any sound a level higher than average incites anxiety and fear within you—like he used to do so with claude back then

often takes pictures of you, ones that appreciate every little bit of you: the parts you like and don't like are all of the highest form of beauty in his eyes

aids you in maintaining and caring for yourself: if you have long hair, he combs through it every day at least three times. he also takes care of your nails—they grow rapidly, so he has to trim them pretty often so you don't injure yourself

he enjoys watching you perform tea ceremonies when you both have afternoon tea together—on occasions when it's cloudy and dark outside

he's asked Geisha about japanese etiquette on numerous occasions as to not disrespect you

he prides on the fact that only he has heard your voice within the manor

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐏 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋

Aesop was a social recluse, he had just so happened to encounter you in the main hall of the manor during one of the rare occasions of his person leaving the comfort of his room. He had never expected a hunter—let alone someone as beautiful as you—to send one of the kindest "smiles" in his direction; He felt as if the kindness conveyed through your eyes alone brought a touch of colour to the monochrome life he had lived through until that very moment.

Months later, he had received the highest privilege he could have ever wished for: calling you his beloved. You, who was already one with what could be called "eternal rest", the you who claimed to be deceased and yet showed more life than those of which who still had blood pumping through their very veins.

Before meeting you, he could only see beauty in the act of dying. He finds you, the love of his life, to be the one thing in his life that remains untouched by outside principles he's been taught.

He ponders deeply as you grace him with a smile, one not hidden away behind a piece of bamboo. 'Was this the love my mother talked about?', the question remained unanswered, and yet despite that, he could say with confidence that he loves you. But, would he really remain by your side until the end of time? he's only a mortal after all.

he tends to spend his time outside more often because of you—away from prying eyes at the very least, during the night

he adores the way you look at him, how could you look at him with such fondness—such care—such a doting gaze on the likes of him?

he doesn't know how to comfort people, but he tries for you; he combs through your hair gently, letting you lay on his chest

aesop tends to sleep at the same time as you, if you stay up, he can too, if you sleep early, he sleeps early too

he sometimes traces over the lovely patterns left on your skin that were caused by the experiment, always tells you about how beautiful you are with them too

he adores your voice, considers it a blessing to hear you speak

for some reason, you are drawn to warmth. so he becomes used to physical touch, the reason being one, wanting to be closer to you and two, because you are akin to a reptile and he is your 'heating pad'

avoids bringing up the topic of death with you, he knows you think of it as unpleasant, so why would he go out of his way to displease you?

𝐗𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐈'𝐀𝐍 & 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐔

Upon meeting you, they never could have anticipated that you were such... a bright soul. Had you never had told them, they never would've thought that you weren't a mortal. You seemed more human than most of them, the only indicators of you being of a different species were your eyes—such a colour could never belong to a human—and your souvenirs from the scientists that performed experiments on you.

You were an incredibly gentle soul, cowering upon meeting them initially. Wujiu quickly learned that speaking softly with you was a must if he wished to befriend you. They learned that being patient with you was the key to getting close to one of the most sincere individuals in their lifetime.

Bi'an and Wujiu were enamoured by you, there was only such a small amount of individuals capable of conversing or even interacting with them since they normally kept to themselves. You had wormed yourself into their lives, seeking solace within the small world of the umbrella the two souls choose to reside in.

With you, their closed off world gained unimaginable amounts of colour that completely erased any trace of mundanity from their daily cycle of life. Change isn't a welcome occurrence for some individuals, but they couldn't help but be eternally thankful for your arrival in their lives.

wujiu makes his voice softer and more quiet with you

bi'an often dotes on you with physical touch (he knows it comforts you if it's done by people you're close to)

most of the time they have outside of matches is spent with you

if your hair is long, they both enjoy caring for your hair—using up so many hours on just pampering you in general

they both tend to worry about the state of your teeth—does it not hurt to bite on the bamboo for so long?

when taking strolls outside and it's not completely dark, their umbrella comes in handy! they shield you from any light that could possibly hit you—even if you say it's not "fatal", it still hurts you do just accept their treatment

you three have matching kimonos, matching in pattern but each in your own colpur palettes

A/N: we got a four day break ^^, ofc, i still have tasks to accomplish but at least we don't have any class

[kilfeur]

Ces deux chapitres bon sang, c'est intense et les feels ! Iffrit souhaite changer la police de l'intérieur et de l'autre, je peux comprendre son point de vue. D'ailleurs je me dis qu'Iffrit a dû avoir d'autres élèves mais qui sont soient morts soient "changés". Mais celle ci coûte bien trop de vies et quand je vois comment il parle d'Azz, je pense qu'il y avait une sincérité envers lui or on sent la fatigue quand il dit qu'il a encore besoin de lui. Mais son sens de la justice est plus fort ce qui pousse Azz à suivre Iruma. Car il représente cet idéal impossible, cette détermination mais cette naïveté pour Iffrit. Après je pense pas qu'il est mort mais la manière dont ils se disent "au revoir" est gratifiant. Mais Azz était prêt à mourir jusqu'à ce qu'Iruma intervient et voit justement qu'Iruma l'avait compris d'une certaine manière et il a brisé ses murs. Toutefois, il peut pas revenir sans conséquences et c'est par la blessure aux flammes qu'il renaît d'une certaine manière. Et ça va prendre du temps que la mafia lui fasse de nouveau confiance. Mais maintenant Clara a enfin retrouvé son petit frère !

These two chapters damn, it's intense and feels! Iffrit wants to change the police from the inside and the outside, I can understand his point of view. In fact, I'm thinking that Iffrit must have had other students who are either dead or “changed”. But this one cost far too many lives and when I see how he talks about Azz, I think there was sincerity towards him, but you can feel the fatigue when he says he still needs him. But his sense of justice is stronger, and that's what drives Azz to follow Iruma. Because he represents that impossible ideal, that determination but naivety for Iffrit. I don't think he's dead yet, but the way they say goodbye is gratifying. But Azz was ready to die until Iruma stepped in and saw that Iruma had understood him in some way and broke down his walls. However, he can't come back without consequences and it's through the flame wound that he's somehow reborn. And it's going to take some time for the mafia to trust him again. But now Clara has finally found her little brother!

[april-is]

April 29, 2025: Greensickness, Laurel Chen

Greensickness Laurel Chen

after Gwendolyn Brooks

My wild grief didn’t know where to end. Everywhere I looked: a field alive and unburied. Whole swaths of green swallowed the light. All around me, the field was growing. I grew out My hair in every direction. Let the sun freckle my face. Even in the greenest depths, I crouched Towards the light. That summer, everything grew So alive and so alone. A world hushed in green. Wildest grief grew inside out.

I crawled to the field’s edge, bruises blooming In every crevice of my palms. I didn’t know I’d reached a shoreline till I felt it There: A salt wind lifted The hair from my neck. At the edge of every green lies an ocean. When I saw that blue, I knew then: This world will end.

Grief is not the only geography I know. Every wound closes. Repair comes with sweetness, Come spring. Every empire will fall: I must believe this. I felt it Somewhere in the field: my ancestors Murmuring Go home, go home—soon, soon. No country wants me back anymore and I’m okay.

If grief is love with nowhere to go, then Oh, I’ve loved so immensely. That summer, everything I touched Was green. All bruises will fade From green and blue to skin. Let me grow through this green And not drown in it. Let me be lawless and beloved, Ungovernable and unafraid. Let me be brave enough to live here. Let me be precise in my actions. Let me feel hurt. I know I can heal. Let me try again—again and again.

--

From the author: "This poem was inspired by Gwendolyn Brooks’s poem 'To the Young Who Want to Die,’ which ends with the lines, ‘Graves grow no green that you can use. / Remember, green’s your color. You are Spring.’ This poem articulates my belief that grief isn’t a dead thing; it’s very much alive and continues to shape how I grow and live in this world. This poem says: healing is forever, another world is possible, and no nation will protect us, only we will."

Today in: 2024: from Gaza, Summer 2006, Jasmine Donahaye 2023: June, Alex Dimitrov 2022: Poem to My Child, If Ever You Shall Be, Ross Gay 2021: Choi Jeong Min, Franny Choi 2020: Earl, Louis Jenkins 2019: Kul, Fatimah Asghar 2018: My Life Was the Size of My Life, Jane Hirshfield 2017: I Would Ask You To Reconsider The Idea That Things Are As Bad As They’ve Ever Been, Hanif Abdurraqib 2016: Tired, Langston Hughes 2015: Democracy, Langston Hughes 2014: Postscript, Seamus Heaney 2013: The Ghost of Frank O’Hara, John Yohe 2012: All Objects Reveal Something About the Body, Catie Rosemurgy 2011: Prayer, Marie Howe 2010: The Talker, Chelsea Rathburn 2009: There Are Many Theories About What Happened, John Gallagher 2008: bon bon il est un pays, Samuel Beckett 2007: Root root root for the home team, Bob Hicok 2006: Fever 103°, Sylvia Plath 2005: King Lear Considers What He’s Wrought, Melissa Kirsch

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦 ⚜

Sources: One (I lost this link T_T but it was on pinterest. I'll add it if I find it!!) | Two | Three

Event Host: @wickblr

Summary: Sebastian LaCroix gets creative to make Vincent a cup of "hot chocolate" from blood, since he can't eat sweets anymore. (Crossover with Vampire: The Masquerade)

CW: blood, semi-sensual kisses with fangs, and lots of fluff <3

Hot chocolate was a simple enough recipe for kine. For kindred, it was, undeniably, a little more complex, but Sebastian LaCroix had always been a man of ambition. And Vincent had taken the loss of sweets so terribly hard after the embrace…it was really heartbreaking. Something had to be done about it.

LaCroix put his ingenuity to work one day in late October. Vincent had just come in from a blustery night, scattered with the flecks of a first snowfall. The concrete and asphalt floor of LA was just barely too warm for the snow to stick, but the air still stung. Sebastian kissed his lover’s icy cheeks, but it only earned a momentary half-smile before the Marquis’ perfect mouth returned to a pout. “J'espère que tout s'est bien passé? [I trust everything went well?]”

“Votre précieuse Mascarade est intacte. [Your precious Masquerade is intact],” he said, pulling away to sink into the couch by the fireplace. So he was annoyed. Apparently, it had been a long work night.

“Mon associé ne t’a posé aucun problème ? S’il l’a fait, je veillerai à ce qu’il soit convenablement puni. [My associate didn’t give you any trouble? If he did, I’ll see that he’s suitably punished.]”

Vincent shrugged. “Oh, il est mort maintenant. Pas besoin de s'embêter. J'aimerais seulement, les soirs comme ce soir, pouvoir rentrer à la maison avec un parfait ou un vin doux ou… de toute façon. Je vais me nourrir dans un moment, mais ce n'est pas pareil. [Oh, he’s dead now. No need to bother. I only wish, on nights like tonight, that I could come home to a parfait or a sweet wine or…anyway. I’ll feed in a while, but it’s not the same.]”

“Ah. Je suis désolé, mon amour. [Ah. I’m sorry, love.]” Sebastian stifled a smile. He had chosen the perfect day to prepare his recipe, it seemed. “Installez-vous un peu. J'ai quelques affaires à régler en bas. [Settle in for a bit. I have some matters to attend to downstairs.]”

“Bien. [Fine.]” Vincent’s eyes didn’t move from the fire.

In some twenty minutes, Sebastian emerged from the elevator carrying a gold tray, set with an enormous, fluted parfait cup. Vincent was still tucked into his seat, evidently more relaxed now. Sebastian took a moment to just look at him, to admire his quietude. He was reading, with his chin resting on one hand while the other supported the book on his knee. His face was placid and yet engaged, absorbed in some dreamy world, lips moving ever so slightly at times to savor the form of a particular word or phrase. It was almost a shame to disturb him. But Sebastian noticed that he’d also wrapped the throw blanket around himself. Sometimes, it bothered Vincent to be so cold from the inside out – he still wasn’t accustomed to it. And Sebastion could help with that.

He approached delicately, setting the tray on the coffee table in front of him. “Vinny,” he said, sing-song.

“Bast,” came the echo, natural and effortless, even before he closed his book. At last he looked to the coffee table, raising an eyebrow. “Qu'est-ce que c'est? [What is that?]”

“C'est du chocolat chaud pour toi. Et c'est vraiment caféiné. [It’s hot chocolate for you. And it really is caffeinated.]” LaCroix couldn’t help grinning with pride over his handiwork. “J'ai trouvé le noble le plus né possible, je lui ai donné autant de sucreries qu'il pouvait en manger et je lui ai injecté suffisamment de caféine pour qu'il soit mort dans une heure. J'ai même demandé au chef de faire des miracles avec de la mousse de sang et de la poudre d'os pour la chantilly. [I found the highest born nobleman I could, fed him as many sweets as he could eat, and pumped him with enough caffeine injections that he’ll be dead in an hour. I even had the chef work some miracles with frothed blood and bone powder for the whipped cream.]”

Vincent just stared at the cup for a moment, his expression quivering in the most touched sort of way. “Tu as fait ça… pour moi? [You did this…for me?]”

Sebastian smiled. This was one of the many contradictions of Vincent – if he had asked for hot chocolate himself, he wouldn’t have dreamed of being denied his request and would’ve been outraged at anyone who suggested he didn’t deserve it. But when it was a gift, he was painfully overcome with disbelief. “Eh bien, je ne vois personne d’autre dans la pièce, n’est-ce pas ? Essayez-le. [Well I don’t see anyone else in the room, do you? Try it.]”

The cup was big enough that even Vincent had to lift it with both hands (Sebastian wanted to get every last drop of blood that he could). It made him look adorable as he put it to his lips and came away covered in whipped cream. Sebastian leaned over and kissed it off of him, taking the time to run his tongue along each lip and caress each of Vincent’s fangs, which were protruding in eagerness at the taste of blood. He was rewarded with a shiver of pleasure from Vincent. Sebastian sighed against his lover’s mouth. “Mmm… J'ai bien fait, semble-t-il. Il a presque aussi bon goût que toi. [Mmm…I did well, it seems. It tastes almost as good as you.]”

The fresh blood all went to Vincent’s cheeks. “Oui, c'est le cas - presque. Arrête d'être charmant pour que je puisse le boire avant qu'il ne refroidisse. [Yes it does - almost. Stop being charming so I can drink it before it gets cold.]” But he stole another kiss in spite of that, long and fierce with gratitude. His words were barely a whisper. “Je ne sais pas pourquoi tu es si gentil avec moi. [I don’t know why you’re so kind to me.]”

An ache rushed into in his heart, as if it was threatening to start beating. Sebastian fell against the couch next to the Marquis and put an arm around him. “Tu ne peux pas dire des choses comme ça, ma petite fraise, pas autour d'une simple tasse de chocolat chaud. Tu me fais trop sentir comme ça. [You can’t say things like that, my little strawberry, not over a simple cup of hot chocolate. You make me feel too much as it is.]”

For a moment, he was too flustered to speak. “Er - hmmm. Eh bien, je dirai simplement « merci ». [Er - hmmm. Well then, I’ll just say ‘thank you.’]” He noticed Sebastion pulling the blanket over both of them, snuggling up to his side. “Essaies-tu de voler ma chaleur? Ensuite, tu demanderez une gorgée de chocolat et tu ne pourrez pas en avoir. [Are you trying to steal my heat? Next you’ll be asking for a sip of chocolate, and you can’t have any.]”

Sebastion kissed him just above that pesky lapel that was hiding his jugular away. “C’est très bien, de toute façon, je préfère le boire dans ton cou plutôt que dans une tasse. [That’s fine, I’d prefer to drink it from your neck than the cup anyway.]”

“Diablerist,” Vincent giggled, and took another long drink. He came away beaming with a childish joy, and even warmer. Sebastian was starting to feel his faint, gentle heat even through both the vest and the tailcoat. “Tu as interrompu mon livre, Bast. [You interrupted my book, Bast],” he accused, in mock seriousness.

“C'est ce que j'ai fait. Comment puis-je me rattraper? [That I did. How can I make it up to you?]” God, Vincent owned him. He was utterly lost.

“Lisez-moi pendant que je prends mon dessert. [Read to me while I have my dessert.]” The contradiction again - here was the imperious side of Vincent, who had been so shy and grateful just moments ago. And Sebastian was only too happy to obey.