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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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Quite at Home in Hell

For @whumptober2021 day six & day 21: blood-matted hair & hunger

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, noncon touch, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper, biting, captivity, dehumanizing language

Vampire Chris AU Masterlist | Follows directly from this piece

Thanks to @boxboysandotherwhump for helping me with the German & @alittlewhump for helping with the French!

1918, the Western Front of WWI

The prisoners are held in a small, hastily constructed sort of barracks far too close to the front lines.

Gefrieter Erich Eeten knows why, of course. The hope is that his own people will hesitate before they blast this bit of dirt apart, that they will be concerned enough about killing their fellow soldiers that they’ll give up a few key moments of pause to the French, the Americans, and the British. Give them the advantage in a firefight.

They want to shield themselves with the bodies of the men in this tent, unwashed and dirty, who are exhausted from a day spent digging trenches for their enemies to hide in.

He can’t exactly blame the Allied powers for it.

It’s a brilliant bit of strategy, if less and less effective as men on both sides become so battle-hardened that they cease to care about their own lives, let alone each other. Still. He’d almost rather be at one of the true POW camps further away from the front lines, where the Red Cross at least comes to check on their treatment.

Here, so close to the front, there is no one keeping watch on what happens to them at all… and the longer the war draws on, the more viciously they kill each other, the more the prisoners kept here too far for oversight feel like they are teetering at the edge of some terrible invisible cliff.

There’s a stiff breeze outside the tent, whipping the heavy, waterproofed canvas edges. They’re flapping a little, making a sound that Erich will one day hear in his nightmares. The cold sneaks in through the slight space between tent and ground, and the men in here are huddled together for warmth, sharing the meager blankets they are given.

At least, though, their captors are officially the French.

Say what you will about the blasted frogs, they never deny their prisoners a nip of strong cognac to help hold off the cold. The Americans, on the other hand, seem to be laboring under an enforced lack of good liquor, not just for prisoners but for their own soldiers, too. That seems a worse crime than nearly any other, in circumstances like this. To force a man to be a cruel killer without even a nip or three to soothe his conscience… to Erich, it sounds like brutality.

There’s a bit of a scuffle outside the tent, and the prisoners look up. Erich is at the back, leaning back against the rough frame of a cot he sleeps on at night, cards in his hands wrapped in strips of bandage cloth just for warmth. What happened to his gloves, he’s no idea. Probably one of the Allies took them for a souvenir.

The canvas wraps work well enough.

“Au garde-à-vous, prisonniers! Sur vos pieds!” Erich knows the voice - it’s the main guard of the tent they sleep in, a man named Alain who looks entirely too old for war. Here he is, anyway, all moustache and silvering hair, pulling open the entrance of the tent, moving the flap aside.

Erich glances left and then right, meeting the eyes of his fellow prisoners, and the half-dozen of them that share this single small tent push heavily to their feet, shifting apart as much as the tent will allow, hands behind their back.

His stomach dips, a low drumbeat of dread alongside his heart. Something tells him this isn’t a social call he wants to be part of.

He’s even more certain when a tall, thin American steps into the entrance, nearly silhouetted by the dim, barely-there light behind them. Their hair is long, in a loose plait with parts undone, and their eyes gleam, briefly seeming to glow in the dark. Erich is reminded of his mother’s cat, who would stalk mice at night and whose eyes did just the same when light hit them.

He feels very… mouselike.

They wear a medic’s uniform, but it’s a little tattered. There are unrepaired bullet holes through the heavy woolen tunic, and they move with grace and disdain for how heavy wet wool must be, how itchy and uncomfortable. As if it simply doesn’t matter to them.

Because, of course, it doesn’t. The damn thing is a walking corpse, baring fangs in a grisly smile.

“Hello, soldiers,” They say, in a voice that isn’t quite a purr. “You all look a fright.”

“Verdammte Blutsauger,” Lukas Müller mutters to his right.

Erich hates the bloodsuckers. Everyone does. They come with the Americans, monsters brought from the shadows as a kind of secret weapon. Erich has never seen vampires out in the open before - back home, they are creatures of hiding. They live in cellars and basements and houses with the windows painted in thick matte black. They sweep along the streets at night, a risk for anyone who stays out too late.

But they’re not part of anything.

Here, they’re death itself, demons quite at home in hell.

Oh, sure, the Americans claim they use them only for bringing the injured back to safety - and some of them, he’s sure, are kept to that purpose. Some kind of ability to deny the truth of them, if there are enough seen doing only what the official story claims.

Erich, though, has seen one dispatching wounded German soldiers one by one left behind in a field, killing them before they can be recovered by their own people. He’s seen one with fangs buried in the throat of a man who would otherwise have lived. They’re listed as medics, but those things are what keeps the Germans on their own side of the battle lines after dark, and everyone knows it.

His own side brings canisters of poison gas. The Americans respond with an army laced around its edges in abominations the gas can’t touch.

The vampire sighs, faintly disappointed. “No good morning for me from my audience?”

Erich speaks the best English out of them all - his grandmother was English, taught it to his father in the cradle, who taught it to him. It’s made him more or less the spokesman for his small group of prisoners, and for the larger group when they are moved and briefly allowed to interact with the others. He clears his throat, stepping forward slightly. Lukas and Vilhelm, on his other side, nudge him just a little with their shoulders. It’s meant to be support, he supposes.

He feels like he’s being pushed onto a target painted on the floor, one invisible only to him.

“Good morning,” Erich says, voice flat, letting his accent roll far more heavily off his tongue than it needs to, turning good into gut. It’s always good to let the enemy believe you know less than you really do, so he pretends that English comes with difficulty and not ease. “Should you not turn to ash?”

Their eyebrows raise just slightly, not quite in amusement, and they give a brittle little laugh. “First off, Fritz, that’s a myth. Secondly, it’s not even morning. Probably close to evening now, honestly.”

Erich rolls his eyes. Lukas mutters something under his breath next to him, but the slight creaking of their boots seems to cover it too much to be understandable. Erich sighs, heavily. “Then why did you have us say to you good morning, Blutsauger?”

“Because it’s funny that you don’t know what time it is, of course. All right, who here is Fritz, who is Hans, and who am I just going to call Kraut?”

“No one here is named Hans and no one is Fritz, fangs.” Erich tips his chin down slightly, a lock of greasy brown hair falling into his eyes. “May you drown in holy water.”

He spits at the vampire’s feet.

He feels a pang of regret when the vampire turns to look at Alain, the French guard and points back at Erich, cheerful. “I want that one. He’s rude.”

“Das ist pech,” Lukas whispers.

When Alain simply stares at them blankly - and Erich knows Alain speaks English, they’ve spoken before in a tongue they had in common when neither spoke the other’s mother-tongue - the vampire groans. They don’t seem to know Alain is pretending not to understand them. “Fine. Let’s try this again. Je veux cet homme, s'il vous plaît.”

Alain’s expression tightens a little. He nods, and he won’t look Erich in the eyes as he draws the entrance open a little wider. “Emmenez-le alors.”

“Merci beaucoup,” The vampire says, giving a little bow. Erich backs up, but there isn’t anywhere to go, and none of them is armed. Besides, any resistance is met with removal of meals, with being denied the smallest comforts that make this bearable. With the possibility of all of them being handed over to a vampire, not just one.

This war had been civilized, in some ways, before the Americans brought their monsters.

It’s not actually true, but in this moment it comforts him to pretend it, to have a place to put his furious disgust as the vampire’s thin, long fingers close around his arm and yank him forwards with inhuman strength. They’re clicking their tongue against the top of their mouth in a strange animal way. Erich thinks again of his mother’s cat, making just that sound watching birds outside the windows.

“May your hands be pressed into the holy cross,” Erich snaps as he’s forced out into the freezing humid air outside the tent. There are others walking around - a war camp is never less than controlled chaos, no matter the time of day - but none of them will look at him. No one acknowledges him, although they’ve all seen this before. They know what’s going to happen here.

“Je déteste ça,” Alain mutters.

A bell is rung, clanging in a discordant note, and soldiers move into the POW tents. Erich is led towards a pole in the center of the ring of prisoner tents, something that a half-century ago might still have been a flogging post, a punishment for mutinous men.

“Crosses don’t really harm us,” The vampire says, careless and casual. “Very little does, actually. I’m a big fan of garlic, for instance. Silver, though…” They hum, dragging a fingernail over Erich’s wrist. “That hurts.”

He jerks his hand back and free, only to have the vampire laugh, bright and brilliant, and grab him again, spinning him around until they’re behind him, chest pressed to his back, using that demon strength to twist his arms up his back until his bones creak and ache, forcing him forwards towards the pole.

“I hope you have silver shoved down your throat,” Erich manages, but his heart is pounding in fear as the vampire grabs his hair and jerks his head to the side, forcing his cheek against the rough-hewn wood. Splinters bite into his skin and he grunts as his arms are moved, forced to encircle the pole. His wrists are tied with rope, leaving him looking a little ridiculous, as if he decided today to go for a hug.

Another rope goes around his shoulders, keeping him in this awkwardly pressed position. He tries to kick back, pulling viciously, but then his ankles come next. The rope goes from them to small metal hooks driven hard into the ground, keeping his legs more than shoulder-width apart. He can’t kick, or even balance himself. He must rely entirely on the pole he’s tied to in order to stay upright.

“I’m going to enjoy you,” The vampire murmurs.

Behind Erich, the sounds of a crowd gathering begin. Soft mumbles, exhalations of surprise and disgust. He closes his eyes against the rush of heat he feels - more rage than tears - knowing the prisoners are being brought out to witness this, to be shown what could happen to them next.

It does an excellent job of making them grateful for every day it’s not.

The French commander of the POW camp is barking a running list of commands to his men, but Erich doesn’t speak enough French to clearly understand them. Someone comes close by behind him, and he jolts as there’s a clap to his back. There’s a laugh behind him, not the vampire but someone else.

He manages to see from the corner of his eyes. A different American, of course. Comfortable enough with the vampire to get this close to them.

“Isn’t this a sorry sight,” The American says, and laughs. “What’s the prize for, fangs?”

The vampire lifts their hand, gently brushing Erich’s hair from his eyes. He spits in their face, this time, and is gratified by a flash of very real anger that briefly overtakes their constant amusement. They slowly wipe the spit away, then clean their hand - sort of - on Erich’s uniform.

It’s so dirty they’re probably even less clean after that than they were before.

“Reported a desertion. Now I get fresh food.” They lean down, meeting Erich’s furious hazel eyes. “I’m so hungry, Fritz. All the time. Imagine being surrounded by schnitzel and cabbage as far as the eye can see, and you’re not supposed to eat your fill. Imagine how empty you would feel.”

“Fick dich.”

“What, you won’t even curse at me in English anymore?” The vampire pouts, lower lip sticking out. He hates them more than he’s hated anyone during this godforsaken war. “Come on, you have to understand how hard this is for me, right?”

Erich ignores them, jerks his wrists again, trying to yank himself free of the ropes through sheer force. His back already is aching from being slightly bent forward, his thigh muscles stretched. He does the only thing he can think of - he slowly, with effort, drags his face along the wood and manages to turn away, and look the other direction.

“Well, fine. I suppose you’ll be mad at me for acting like you all eat schnitzel and cabbage, too,” The vampire says behind him. He doesn’t dignify them with an answer. He fixes his eyes, instead, on a point in the dark roiling clouds in the sky, above the remaining trees.

“The prisoners are well-positioned to witness,” A French officer states, speaking with a light, dancing accent but without the difficulty and hesitancy some of the regular infantry have. “You may feed when ready, Private Saathoff.”

That gets Erich’s attention. “Saathoff?”

“That’s right.” The vampire laughs, stepping up behind him. Their fingers move through the hair that curls, grown a little too long, over the back of his neck. He shudders with disgust at the intimacy of it. Their mouth moves close to his ear, but there is no heat of breath. Only the brush of lips. “Ich bin Deustcher, genau wie du.”

“Nothing like me,” Erich grinds out with his teeth gritted together so hard his jaw is already aching. He presses his forehead into the rough wooden pole and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath.

If he’s going to die…

“Vater unser im Himmel,” he begins, halting. He hasn’t seen the inside of a church since he was fourteen, and that was twelve years ago now. Still, the words to the Lord’s Prayer come easily, more muscle memory than thought. “Geheiligt werde dein Name. Dein Reich komme, Dein Wille geschehe, wie im Himmel so auf Erden-”

“Zu jeder anderen Zeit hätte ich dich als Haustier behalten.” They use his hair to jerk his head back, and their fangs jam into his neck with a flash of sudden agony.

It’s a white-hot pain that races down his spine to the very tips of his toes, and Erich screams, the sound strangled and thin but still echoing, bouncing off of trees and tents and back into his mind, crashing like the shells that slam into the earth.

Lukas jerks forwards as if to run to help him and is pushed back by one of the French soldiers, their expression set in a grim line. They have to twist Lukas’s arms behind his back to hold him as he shouts, angrily, that this isn’t fair, it’s against the laws of conduct.

There’s laughter, at that, from their captors.

The other prisoners grumble and shift uncomfortably, look at anything but Erich whenever they can, but they can’t escape the sound of his horror, of his pain.

There’s no pulse of the much-spoken-of venom. There’s no numbness to drift in, there’s no fog to cloud out his awareness of what is happening to him. Every muscle of Erich’s body is tensed tight enough to snap the bones they wrap around, the veins standing out in his throat as if giving them a roadmap of where the food can be found.

He didn’t know vampires could choose not to use the venom.

He didn’t know they could make it feel like this.

When his scream dies, he can’t get enough breath to make another. All he can do is let out high-pitched, thin whimpers and cries. Spots dance before his eyes. Beneath the sound of his heart pounding in a sudden panic to push more blood faster to replace what is being lost, he can feel - can hear - a low rumbling sound against his back.

Erich has heard the rumors that vampires purr, and now he knows they aren’t rumors at all.

He can feel it right through his back, just barely. It’s a vibration that would be pleasant if it didn’t seem to be somehow making everything hurt even worse, waking up his nerves the way the venom is supposed to deaden them. Their hands are closed around his ribs, pressing the tips of their fingers rhythmically against them, as if playing a piano, as if he is dough to be kneaded, as if he isn’t human at all.

As if he’s nothing but a field mouse that found his way into the wrong house, and the vampire is the housecat who has waited too long for a living toy to torment.

There is no prayer, in pain like this. There is no thought beyond the body’s fight for survival and the mind wanting to flee from it, if surviving means this feeling will not end. There is nothing but the feeling of his blood being pulled forcefully out of his body, nothing but his nerves screaming to escape it, nothing but the bite of the ropes that ensure he can do no more than jerk in his bonds and choke on his agony.

It feels like forever - and like a moment - when their fangs pull free, their cool rough tongue lapping at the wounds to close them, purring against his ear with contentment. Their fingers knead into his skin a little bit longer, drawing the moment out as he slumps against the wooden pole he’s tied to. He’s only standing because of the ropes.

Pain rolls through him, breaking against the edges of his body from the inside, like the smaller waves after a storm falling onto a beach already strewn with debris. He slumps. His own breath is a rasping wheeze, taking far more effort than it should.

Nein, Erich, Erich stirb nicht…” Lukas’s voice comes from somewhere so far away, filtering through the noise in Erich’s mind slowly. He can’t even begin to form a response. His mouth won’t answer his commands. It only hangs open, panting, pulling in the chilly air over his tongue. He starts to shiver as the breeze hits the cold sweat in his hair and on his neck, cuts through his uniform somehow.

He doesn’t have enough blood left to warm himself.

Their tongue licks up his neck behind his ear, matting his own blood into his hair there, sticky and hot. It starts to cool and dry immediately in the cold air. Erich’s stomach twists.

“Oh, he won’t die,” The vampire coos, petting through his hair slowly. Their nails scratch at his scalp. “Not today.” Their mouth presses back against his ear. “Thanks for the meal, Erich. And for being so entertaining. Maybe I’ll find you after the war. I’ll buy you a beer… and some schnitzel.”

They push themself away from him, turning away to wipe a bit of blood from the corners of their mouth, and walk with a jaunty step through an opening that appears in the ring of watching prisoners, whose eyes follow them with apprehension and no small amount of fear.

When Alain comes up to untie him, Erich simply collapses into the Frenchman’s arms as soon as he’s free of the ropes. Lukas is allowed to move up to stand at his other side, putting Erich’s limp left arm around his shoulders, while Alain supports his right. Erich lets his head fall into Lukas’s shoulder, hitching his breath as he forces down a sob.

“Wh… why do you let them do this?” He asks, his English slurred with the exhaustion that means he is dragged with his boots carving paths through the mud back towards the tent.

Alain is silent until Erich is dropped onto his cot, the hard frame digging into Erich’s back right through the thin mattress. He glances over his shoulder, the three of them alone in here for the moment, and then looks back.

“It is believed that this is how we will win,” He says, and pats Erich’s hand. “My apologies. I do not believe in the monsters, but I am not the one to run this war.”

“None of us are,” Erich says, weakly. He closes his eyes. “We are only the ones who must fight in it.”

There’s a pause, and Alain’s exhale is audible in the quiet tent. “I will ensure you are given extra meat rations tonight, and I will find you some schnapps. Essaye de dormir, maintenant, si tu peux,” he says with soft regret lacing his voice. Then there is a shuffle of footsteps, and he’s gone.

Lukas shifts and sits with his back to the cot, in the same position Erich was in before. He swallows, picking up the abandoned cards from the game they’d been playing, looking over Erich’s hand. “You’d have won, you know, on the next hand,” He says in German, before he reaches out to grab the others’ cards and reshuffle the deck.

“Do I still get my… my winnings?” Erich can barely move his lips to speak. He’s so tired. So, so tired. He can feel his hands starting to shake, now that it’s over, the trembling moving slowly up his limbs, stuttering his breathing.

“My share of the liquor? Not on your life.” Lukas pauses, and then his tone gentles as he looks Erich over again. “You know what... of course you can. You’ll need warmth. What did the bloodsucker say to you, anyway? I couldn’t hear.”

Erich thinks about the promise to find him after the war, about the way they spoke into his ear as if he were little more than a toy top to be spun at their command. In another time, I’d keep you for a pet, they had whispered, before they bit down.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Lies,” He answers, and feels the softer-edged darkness of sleep begin to take him.

“Lies?”

“I hope… I hope they were lies.”

For the moment, at least, he is too exhausted by the present to feel terror for the future.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump @thefancydoughnut

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betweenthetimeandsound · 3 years

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Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#17)

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#17: Barbara Pravi -- Voilà (France 2021)

"Regardez-moi, ou du moins ce qu'il en reste Regardez-moi, avant que je me déteste"

"Look at me, or at least what’s left Look at me, before I hate myself"

Once again, there's a bit of recency bias with putting this so high, but I couldn't help it after what she had done in Rotterdam and the story she had to tell. There's a lot of fierceness and determination with this one, which can get lost if you don't read a translation of the lyrics, or if you're quick to dismiss it as "another French chanson". (Which is why I'm a bit peeved when Go_A and Maneskin fans ally with each other and gush over each other's songs, and exclude Barbara, who came third in the televote and got televoting points from every single country. Guys...)

Like with Zitti e Buoni (#75), Voilà is an affirmation of oneself, but unlike with Maneskin, Barbara tells her story from the inside out. She wants somebody to listen to her tale as a "chantesuse a demi"--"a half-singer", or a wannabe. She starts small, as seen through her quiet voice and the sparse piano and violin, which eventually grows as the song goes on. Of course, there's a certain sense of desperation and tension throughout, but I can understand it. I keep imagining a ballerina on stage trying to work on her craft--struggling and tripping on her own toes in order to get the performance right. It's very theatrical, with her eventual growth as a singer and performer, but it works through the entire track. I knew it was going to be my favorite by the second chorus, in which she starts taking flight.

What also shines with this was with Barbara as a performer. Before the big night in Rotterdam, she could make a different performance of it every time. Noted was her prière version (also check out both "prières" EPs, they are fantastic), in which she has layers of her own backing vocals to add almost a divine version of the song. It seems like the angels are singing with her.

And that's not going into the night of. With minimal changes from the NF staging, including an improved bird effect, Barbara had the stage to herself, and simply lived though the song. There were a few times where she wavered, but I could feel everything she wanted to convey, especially in the last minute where she finally finds her wings. She performed it as if it were the last performance of her life.

I can't be too sad about Voilà not winning--Maneskin had a powerful song themselves, and they're doing great, so why not? But Barbara got France's best result in thirty years, with what should've been a televote poison, a total 180 to what they would've sent in 2020. It's beautiful and sincere and deep, with a purity which shines throughout.

And for that, I'm eternally proud of Barbara.

Personal ranking: 1st/39 Actual ranking: 2nd/26 GF in Rotterdam

Final Impressions on 2021: Can you say one of the strongest years ever*? That's how I felt after the final song of the GF--they were all good to some extent, and the energy accompanying them just left me on a high for a month. The production, considering the circumstances, is also quite solid; I particularly liked the "Winner's Journey" segments as well as "the power of water" interval in the first semi-final.

A flaw was with some of the overlaps between delegations--the silver dresses, the 80s aesthetics, along with the "playbacked backing vocals" rule. I could see why some people would want it to stay to allow for a greater variety of genres to be represented, but if used the wrong way, I fear it would lead to lead singers miming the lyrics. If this rule is continued, then there has to be tweaks to make sure that doesn't fall through the cracks.

*of the modern era, of course. It's a bit too soon to determine how strong it is in comparison to other years.

#eurovision song contest #eurovision #esc250 #esc 250 #esc top 250 #esc france #barbara pravi #voilà #esc 2021 #why did i suddenly think of black swan throughout #i really need to watch that movie #what did ballads do to some of you #a masterpiece #three minutes to eternity

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fics-of-culture · 4 years

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4 Ways To Show Someone You Love Them 3/5 *Complete*

Summary: Gabriel, Lucifer, Balthazar, and Cas all consider themselves fairly adept when it comes to the art of romance. They all have their own unique approach when it comes to wooing someone. And, unfortunately for you, all four of your beloved angels seem to have their sights set on you.

Words: 879

A/N: I am reposting all of my old fics because my old account accidentally got deleted.

Part 3: Balthazar

Step 3: Utilize the language of love (literally)

Continuing on the theme of your angels acting weirder towards you than usual, Balthazar had apparently decided to forgo using English whenever you were around. Perhaps you were being a tad dramatic. Balthazar hadn’t completely given up English, or else you’d never be able to understand a word he says, he’s just been speaking more French around you. Having never learned French, you’re completely at a loss whenever he would do this. And Balthazar refused to translate for you, seeming content to let you remain confused. You had assumed that this was his way of screwing with you. Your thoughts are interrupted by the boys and Balthazar entering the bunker. The Winchester brothers had dragged a rather reluctant Balthazar out on a hunt with them. Apparently, Sam and Dean required Balthazar’s reality hopping expertise for this hunt. Balthazar was less than inclined to offer up his assistance until you’d managed to persuade the Frenchman with promises of dinner when he got back. Balthazar’s sour expression brightens upon seeing you as he rushes down the stairs to greet you.

“Bonjour, mon ange.” Balthazar gives you a quick kiss on the forehead to greet you. “Tu m’as manqué cette semaine.” He continues, tossing his arm around your shoulder, leading you toward the kitchen. At this point, you were well accustomed to Balthazar’s affections. Since the beginning of your friendship, it would would be a rare occurrence for Balthazar to keep his hands to himself.

“Je dois admettre que je déteste devoir aider vos idiots.” You throw Balthazar a glare when you hear the word ‘idiots’, knowing exactly who he’s referring to. But Balthazar quickly continues before you can voice your protests over calling the boys idiots. “Malheureusement, je trouve tout à fait impossible de vous dire non. Et vous ne savez même pas que je l'admets, n'est-ce pas?” Balthazar stops in the threshold of the kitchen and stares at you expectantly. You understand that he’s asking you a question but, you cannot for the life of you understand what he’s saying. Balthazar chuckled at your reaction. “Tant pis. Je crois que tu m'as promis un dîner en échange d'aider tes garçons, non?” You’re pretty sure you hear Balthazar mention dinner but it’s next to impossible to discern anything considering how quickly he was speaking.

“Balthy, you know I can’t understand you when you speak French. I don’t know why you insist on messing with me like this.” You shrug his arm off your shoulder, walking over to lean on a kitchen counter. You cross your arms as he laughs again.

“I’m sorry, mon chéri. I was asking what you’d like for dinner.” Before you could even answer, Balthazar snapped his fingers and an intimate looking table covered in white cloth appears in the middle of the kitchen, plates set with your favorite dish. You gape at the beautifully set little table as Balthazar watches in satisfaction. He prided himself on knowing your favorite things. He had paid rapt attention last time when you mentioned missing your favorite food, and filed it away in his brain knowing it would come in handy later. Balthazar popped behind a chair and pulled it out for you, gesturing for you to sit. You thank him as you sit down and he appears again sitting across from you. He drapes his napkin across his lap as your mind tries to catch up with everything that’s just happened.

“What exactly did I do to deserve the 5 star treatment?” Balthazar looks amused as he picks up his cutlery.

“Well, as much as I enjoy the badass hunter thing you’ve got going on, I can’t say I’m much of a fan the diet.” You roll your eyes playfully at him. “If I had to eat some greasy burger from some sleazy diner every day of my like I’m pretty sure I’d smite myself.” You look down to see Balthazar cutting into a filet mignon. He moans as he pops a piece into his mouth. “This is delicious. Would you like to try some?” He holds a piece out, waiting for you to eat it from his fork. You politely decline, feeling shy about the idea of practically eating from the man’s hand. “Tu es tellement mignon quand tu rougis.” He says as his hand retreats back to his plate. You’re surprised by how sincere he looks, but for all you know he could be calling you a dog. As you dig in to your meal, you decide to bite the bullet and ask the question that’s been on your mind for weeks.

“Why so you keep speaking French to me? You know I don’t understand it. You could be insulting me for all I know.”

“I’m hardly insulting you, douceur.” You huff at that.

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Well I figured since I’m shall I say... occupying this Frenchman, I might as well make the most of it.”

“But you don’t speak French to Sam or Dean.”

“I’m afraid the intention would be quite lost on them.”

“And what intention is that?” Balthazar sighs as he rests his forearms on the table, leaning into your space a bit as you pins you in place with a serious look.

“Pour vous faire tomber amoureux de moi.”

(Hello, My angel.)

(I missed you this week.)

(I must admit, I hate having to help your silly little friends.)

(Unfortunately, I find it quite impossible to say no to you. And you have no idea I’m even admitting this, do you?)

(Oh well. I believe you promised me dinner in exchange for helping your boys, yes?)

(My sweetheart.)

(You're so cute when you blush.)

(To make you fall in love with me.)

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #balthazar #spn balthazar #balthazar x reader #balthazar imagine

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msjr0119 · 5 years

Text

One Shot

You Belong With Me

One shot request by @dangerouseggseagleartisan ... My drunk mind stupidly asked her for a one shot with a pairing that I haven’t done yet. Asking a Drake Stan to do Drake x Kiara - how could you? 😭 I kind of expected a friendship pairing such as Maxwell x Riley or Olivia x Riley. But I’ve done it you should be proud of me 🤣

Pairings: Drake x Kiara, Drake x Riley

Takes place Book 2, Chapter 10- Tea time in Paris.

Warnings: SMUT 🍋, jealously

Tagging combined list - my fellow Drake stans I’m so sorry- I feel like such a traitor 😫

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @beardedoafdonutwagon @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816

******

Kiara knew that she was in love with Drake Walker ever since they were teenagers. There was something about him, that only she could see. Everyone else in court had berated him due to not having a title like the rest of them. Most people would say he had an easy ride in life by being the Princes best friend- having everything handed to him on a plate. The snobbish attitude. Everyone that was apart from Kiara and Liam. When Jackson Walker tragically died, and Bianca Jackson abandoned her children- Kiara was grateful for the royal family allowing the Walker siblings to stay in Cordonia. This way she hadn’t lost the love of her life.

Every time Kiara saw him, her heart would flutter- she wouldn’t admit her feelings to anyone, especially her closest friends Madeleine and Penelope. Kiara had to admit, that Drake always looked damn good even in his usual denim jacket- his muscles were visible even through the material. When his earthy brown eyes opened, she believed that they were full of lust and satisfaction- she adored it. His cocky smirk, most people would find rude- but not her, instead it was one of his features that gave him his personality.

Kiara knew once she joined the social season that she would never win the heart of the Prince- but that didn’t matter to her. She was a suitor for her house, that was all- her heart belonged to the handsome commoner. It was the tea party in Paris, Kiara had found Drake immediately sitting alone at the table staring into the brewing cup of tea. Asking him if she could sit with him he nodded, she was pleased- if he had said no she wasn’t sure if she could handle that kind of rejection.

*******

Kiara dug her nails into Drake’s biceps, leaving the slightest crescent marks against his skin.

“How about we take this somewhere private? No one will miss us?” She asked seductively. Drakes cock twitched at the premature thoughts of what they would be doing. Standing up, he checked over his shoulder- scrutinising the area everyone was engaged in social conversation. Holding his hand out to her, she excepted as they snuck off- the corner of her lips turned as they left.

Kissing her the world instantly fell away, as if no one else existed. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words could never explain. Resting his hand below her ear, his thumb caressed her cheek as their hot breaths mingled. She ran her fingers down his back, pulling him slightly closer. Unexpectedly, his hand drifted towards her hip. It lingered there as he pulled her closer- now not leaving any space between the two of them. Inhaling sharply, she fell into his warm chest, that chiseled to perfection. Feeling the beating of his heart against her chest, she felt safe and loved in his arms. Both their breathing quickened in unison, as he nuzzled into her neck with delicate kisses. They were so faint, they were more like whispers. Her now limp body began to tremble uncontrollably. His head was slightly positioned to the side as his lips came closer to hers- their breaths continued to mingle, her heart constantly fluttered inside her chest.

Pinning her against a wall, her hand began sliding across his jeans pressing on to his erection before eagerly working at his zip- releasing his manhood. The sudden urge he had, made him slide his hands under her skirt, pushing it up. Hooking his fingers around the lacy fabric of her underwear, he quickly pulled them down- before stashing them in his back pocket. Drake roamed his hands passed her thighs before pumping his fingers inside her determined to hit that spot. His thumb circled her clit, making Kiara’s body begin to tremble even more than before- her eyes begging and pleading for more. Removing his newly coated fingers, he bent down separating her legs before licking her centre- his breath on her felt warm- the sensation due to his actions made her close her eyes and arch her back. Switching from licking her with his tongue to sucking on her clit- he devoured her. As her moans became louder, this encouraged him to work faster, eager to make his girl cum for him again. “I think it’s your turn now Drake.”

Wrapping her delicate hand around his length, she began stroking it slowly - almost teasing him- Drake moaned at her touch. Rubbing her thumb in a tantalising rhythm over his tip- he believed he was already close to premature ejaculation. Slowly rubbing his hard cock, she was always impressed with his package. Placing her fingers around his shaft- she rubbed up and down. Changing the rhythm every so often, he moaned her name before she knelt onto the floor. She decided to lick his testicles before licking the tip of his cock, taking in all his length, his cock was now all wet and slippery. Increasing her speed, she felt him pulsate inside her mouth- knowing she was pleasing him as he did her, she didn’t want anyone else in her life.

Pulling her up back into a standing position, his hand slid under the fabric of her top- he cupped both breasts before tweaking each nipple- whilst slowly kissing her neck. Picking her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Kissing his neck as he brushed his tip against her entrance- before inserting himself inside her- he moaned loudly in response to the sharp bites she was now providing. Keeping her legs wrapped around him as he drilled into her, one hand was firmly braced on the wall- their kisses were becoming more passionate in between loud moans from the two of them. Their bodies were moving in sync, as he hit the spot with every powerful thrust.

He was so close, and Kiara was going to drive him quickly over the finish line.

“Come on baby, you feel so good.” She moaned as she felt his cock twitch inside her. “Finish for me. I want to feel you. I’ve needed this for so long.”

“Baby, I need you to take control. I can’t wait any longer. I want us to make love.” He grunted. Pushing him onto the floor, Kiara straddled him- riding him like a professional cowgirl through their orgasms. Rubbing her clit as she worked on him, she soon released. Something about Drake made her nerves stand on end- not knowing exactly why, she insisted on keeping that feeling for as long as she possibly could. Feeling his cock convulse inside her before releasing himself, she felt the warmth of his seed as she continued to slowly rock her hips helping them both ride out their high.

******

Every time she wasn’t with him, she could still feel his tongue against her core, the way he gently flicked and rubbed her clit eating her as if he was a starved man and as if she was his last meal. Driving his cock into her at accelerated speeds- pushing her over the edge every time.

“Kiara?” Fluttering her eyes open slowly, she smiled knowing it was just the two of them.

“Kiara? Are you going to tell me about Savannah?” Hearing his voice- still holding on to his bicep- she was suddenly knocked out of her trance as he abruptly removed her hand off him, providing her with a stern look.

“Pardon?”

“Savannah. She was taking french lessons from you months you said....”

“Oh. Yes. I really enjoyed teaching her. French is my favourite of all the languages that I speak. I’ve always found it to be such a romantic language.” Looking at Drake, a half hearted smile formed on her face as realisation hit that he didn’t understand her upfront flirting.

“Hey guys.” What is she doing here? Je la déteste.

“Oh, hello Lady Riley.” Kiara politely said, as she looked between Riley and Drake both their faces lit up being in each other’s presence. Elle l’aime. Il l’aime. She loves him. He loves her. I’m paranoid. They are only friends.

“Hey Brooks.” Drake winked at her, causing Riley to blush.

“Well don’t you two look cozy.” It was now Kiara’s turn to blush, before she saw jealously written across the newbies face as well as in her tone of voice.

“We weren’t.... I weren’t...” I wish I was. Je l'aime tellement. I love him so much. “I’d better go.” Kiara stood up, she couldn’t help herself look at the two of them- it felt like a stab in heart seeing the star crossed lovers look they gave each other.

“Drake you know you’re mine right?”

“Brooks.... you’re cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” Kiara stared at the two them discreetly. Noticing how relaxed Drake seemed around Riley, noticing him smile at her adoringly.

“Believe me, if I need to stake my claim on you, I’m not going to be shy about doing it.”

“And what would that look like?”

“I’m debating between a very public, very passionate kiss..... and shoving Kiara into the petit fours the next time she flirts with you.” Placing her arm on his shoulder, Kiara noticed his hand wandering towards her body. Her body began to shake, shaking that much that she didn’t realise the tea spilling over her.

“As much as I’d love to see that we both know you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re the only girl for me Brooks.”

Overhearing the conversation between Riley and Drake, she couldn’t understand what he would see in her. Wasn’t she good enough for him? She had known him longer than Riley did, she was like a stranger. You’re the only girl for me Brooks. Does Liam know about this ‘affair’? Or was I blind this whole time? Was I the only one to not realise about them both?

“How about we take this somewhere private? No one will miss us?” Drake asked Riley seductively, her lips curled up as she nodded. Drakes cock twitched at the premature thoughts of what they would be doing. Standing up, he checked over his shoulder- scrutinising the area everyone was engaged in social conversation- everyone that was apart from Kiara who was stood in the corner listening to them. Her heart began to shatter piece by piece.

“Brooks, I want you to take control of me. I can’t wait any longer. I want us to make love.”

Kiara watched the two of sneak off, like giggling teenagers. Tears forming in her eyes before running down her cheeks like a waterfall. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her tears away- forcing a fake smile as she joined in a conversation with Penelope and Madeleine.

It should have been me. Drake Walker will only ever be a fantasy. I want him to touch me, love me back. If you can see I'm the one who understands you. Been here all along so why can't you see? You belong with me. Have you ever thought just maybe? You belong with me.

Kiara noticed Liam on his own holding a scotch, her mind wasn’t functioning correctly as she made her way over to him.

“Lady Kiara... are you okay?” Liam’s forte was usually being able to read people, he had never seen Kiara look so vacant- she was the intellectual one out of all the women, always smiling, always able to bypass any feelings and keep up a conversation. Caressing her cheek he slowly wiped away the tears that were unknowingly to her racing down her cheek.

“Do you still have feelings for Lady Riley?” Assuming that Madeleine had informed her about his true feelings, he knew he couldn’t lie.

“I do have strong feelings towards Lady Riley. Why?”

“Did you know that she is in a relationship with Drake?” But he should belong with me.

#choices trr #fanficrequest #drake x kiara #drake x riley #drake walker #riley brooks #liam rhys #trr kiara

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infinitysdecendants76730 · 4 years

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Infinity’s Descendants

“The first Date”

There he stood in his velvet emerald green habit habillé with gold trimming embroidered along the coats edges and around the pockets matching green breeches and high heeled satin slippers with gold clasps to match the embroidery his coat. He dabbed at a bit of sweat on his forehead with an embroidered handkerchief before speaking again.

“Please excuse my tardiness. Is it too late for you to accompany me?” He asked. “Maintenant?” This wasn’t a total surprise. Part of her was expecting something like this as she had wore her finest dresses to the shoppe every day this week. « Oui, maintenant » Céleste thought about her sister. “Zaz will understand right? She’s probably with Jean-Laurent as we speak” she thought to herself. Céleste looked once more at Cassius. “Yeah Zaz will be fine” she thought to herself. « Donnez-moi un moment pour fermer la shoppe et rassembler mes affaires » she said with a smile. « D’accord. I will wait outside » Cassius smiled, turned on his heels and exited the shoppe. Céleste had began to overheat from running around the shoppe trying tidy up and grab her things. She peaked out the shoppe’s window at Cassius. He was conversing with the coachman. This gave her enough time to cool herself with her fan and try to settle her nerves. Cassius glances at the window and that was her queue. Céleste excited the shoppe fan in hand in her beautiful dress.

« Mademoiselle » Cassius smiled and extended a hand to her. He helped Céleste into the carriage and the coachman closed the door behind them. Céleste kept a smile on her face but remained quiet. She glanced over and looked at Cassius; he sat there, one leg crossed over comfortably confident in his outfit. Just sharing the same air with him made Céleste’s stomach fill with butterflies. Just when she thought he couldn’t get any more attractive he held an entire conversation with the coachman in a language that she had never even heard before. “If you don’t mind me asking, what language was that?” she asked. “Latin” he replied. “Latin? But I thought people stopped speaking that language ages ago?” she said puzzled to which Cassius smiled. « My coachman is very old, mademoiselle LeBlanc » he winked.

“I am pleased you agreed come. I feared you might’ve forgotten me” said Cassius. “Really, why is that?” She could never have forgotten him. “Mademoiselle Leblanc, I am well aware that as woman as beautiful as you has a plethora of suitors” he said. “Oh Monsieur, your are just being modest” Céleste looked away in a failed attempt to conceal her rouge kissed cheeks. « Non, mademoiselle. Je dis là vérité. This night has been all I have looked forward to since my departure from Marseille » Céleste could tell by the tone in Cassius’ voice that that admission made himnervous. “Me too” Céleste replied and a beautiful smile spread across her face. This being a relief to Cassius he returned her smile.

During their ride Cassius carried the conversation. He asked her about her family and if she had any siblings. He inquired about her about her passion for dress making and where her love of fashion came from. He never interrupted her, instead he watched her as she talked, as if he was memorizing her mannerisms, the way she spoke, the way she moved and the way she sighed with contented smile after talking about something she truly enjoyed and loved.

The carriage was slowing. “Perhaps it may be too late to inquire but do you like Théâtre?” he asked nervously. Céleste’s face lit up once more. “I love Théâtre” “Great, tonight we will see Hérode Et Mariamne” He said.

Cassius and Céleste entered the Opéra de Marseille arm in arm. It wasn’t long before they were being approached by nobles of all sorts from absolutely everywhere. The women were initially drawn to Céleste seeing as though she had made a fair few of the dresses being worn tonight but their attention was quickly placed on Cassius as she figured it would be. He was dressed spectacularly and was apparently of the noble class and even though she was on his arm Céleste knew very well that that would not mean the women would assume he was spoken for they would have to see for themselves. A very loud woman with an extremely elegant dress approached. “Céleste dear! I simply cannot thank you enough. This is beyond my expectations and I have told every woman I know to employ your services”

After Madame de Montcourt finished thanking Céleste for her beautiful dress an extremely handsome man approached.

“Monsieur Cassius, what a surprise to see you here. With a guest as well” he diverted his gaze to Céleste her cheeks immediately flushed pink. She smiled politely to try to play it off. “Should you not be working?” The beautiful man continued. “Ah Leo, you know a man would perish if he was all business and no pleasure” Cassius said dryly. “C’est vrai” Leo never took his eyes off Céleste. « Quelle est votre nom, mademoiselle? » asked Leo. « Je m’appelle Céleste » she replied. “Ahh Céleste, pleasure to meet you” he bowed and kissed her hand. Looking up at her his lips lingered just above her skin “You smell delightful Mademoiselle” “Merci Monsieur” she replied smiling shyly. “Careful Cassius. A women who smells this nice and is this beautiful will be highly sought after” Leo smiled and gave Céleste a playful wink. “Leo, do you not have business of your own to tend to?” Said Cassius. Leo laughed at the subtle dismissal. “As a matter of fact, I do. Mademoiselle Céleste it was a pleasure to meet you” For the first time since he had approached, Leo looked at Cassius. “Cassius, I am in town for the week. Perhaps we can hunt together?” he proposed. “Sure, come by anytime. Profite du spectacle” replied Cassius.

Cassius and Céleste made their way to their seats in the top of the theatre were most of the nobles were sitting. Céleste was truly in her happy place taking in all the exquisite fashion. Leo’s eyes met Céleste’s from the floor below and he nodded politely. “Your friend is nice” she said. “I wouldn’t call him my friend persay. He is more like a fellow businessman” he replied. “Business, is that how you got these seats? Commoners like myself don’t generally sit up her with les dieux” Céleste said playfully. “Actually, Madame Lecouvreur gifted me with these seats” replied Cassius. “You know Adrienne Lecouvreur? The best actress in all of France” Céleste asked in disbelief. Cassius replied with a smile and something told Céleste that the details of how he knew her may be something she doesn’t want to know so she refrained from asking.

The show reproducing the tale of the tragic death of Mariamne at the hands of her jealous husband Herod the Great was absolutely abysmal but somehow Cassius was making it enjoyable. Sooner than both Cassius and Céleste wanted however the show came to an end.

They were about to enter the carriage and Cassius appeared to be troubled. « Qu'Est-ce que c'est? Is something wrong? » Céleste asked, looking around them anxiously.

« Mademoiselle, Je déteste vous demander cela, mais serait-il possible pour vous de passer le reste de la nuit chez moi? You see my coachman has had very little rest today. The fault is entirely mine as I was in a rush to see you, nevertheless, I worry about his well being as well as ours if he attempts the ride back to your home. My home is only a few minutes ride from here. I assure you we will ride out first thing in the morning » said Cassius. “I suppose that will be okay. I wouldn’t want him to harm himself” Céleste respond before she truly gave herself time to think. “Merci Céleste. I shall inform of the change in destination” Cassius helped her into the Carriage once more before going to speak with his coachman. « Oh mon dieu, qu'ai-je fait. Zaz va me tuer. » Céleste said placing her face in her palm.

Cassius home was no home at all, a beautiful sunset kissed chateau greeted them as the rounded the turn.

They coachman opened the Carriage door for them and the front door to the Chateau opened as they reached the top of the steps. “It is late, I will show you to your room” said Cassius. Céleste was speechless as she admired the architecture, the decor, and the murals throughout the chateau.

Cassius opened a set of double doors. “You can sleep here for the night” “êtes-vous ? Where will you be?” Asked Céleste. “Oh I’ll be around. I don’t get much sleep” She thought about how hard it’d be to sleep in a house this big alone and she had to admit she’d find it difficult to get much rest too. “If you need anything Charles will either fetch it for you or come find me”Céleste .

« Bon nuit mon chérie » Cassius pulled the door closed leaving Céleste in the room.

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slowlyfantasticfart · 4 years

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MES FILMS. MES SÉRIES ET MON PLAISIR.

Il y a beaucoup d'acteurs et d'actrices que j'aime beaucoup et que j'admire énormément et parmi cette liste il y a ACTEURS Johnny Deep Paul Walker Channing Tatum Robin Williams Adam Slander Jason Stanham Dwyane Johnson Kellan Lutz Chris Hemsworth Liam Hemsworth Heat Ledger Nicholas Cage Liam Neeson Brad Pitt Tom cruise steve Martin James Franco James Marsden ACTRICES Katherine Heighl Rachel Mc Adams Zoe Saldana Mila Kunis Anne Hathaway Drew Barrymore Jennifer Lopez Jessica Alba Scarlett Johansson Natalie Portman Reese Witherspoon Sandra Bullock Julia Roberts Cameron Diaz J'aime beaucoup le domaine du cinéma, c'est une passion c'est quelque chose que j'aime quand je veut relaxer. N'es ce pas réconfortant. Ici je me suis fait tout un répertoire de film de tout les genre vous y voyez tout un choix films et de série que j'ai beaucoup aimer alors l'es voici. HORREUR Annabelle série Us La conjuration série Ma Silence Dead (Silence de mort) Malédiction de l'enfer (Drag Me to Hell) Le cauchemar de Molly Hartley 2008 Le bal de l'horreur (Prom Night) 2008 Terreur sur la ligne (When a stranger calls) A Qiet Place (Un coin tranquille) Ça, Dans le noir One missed Call (Un appel manqué) Mortelle St Valentin Instinct de survie Visions, Ouija Ne t'endors pas Poltergeist Sinistre 1 Jessabelle Mama insidous 2,3,4 I Still I Know what you did last summer Halloween Chucky Jaws (les dents de la mer) Scream (Frisson) 1,2,3,4 N'aie pas peur du noir Freddy Krueger les griffes de la nuit (2010) Boogeyman Apparence Meurtre a la St Valentin destination ultime (Final Destination) La maison de cire The darkness Jeepers creepers SCIENCE FICTION ET FANTASTIQUE Les animeaux fantastique 1,2 La momie, Thor La belle et la bête le film Le livre de la jungle le film Coeur d'encre Pan, Pete's Dragon (Peter Elliot et le dragon) Oz le magnifique Alice au pays des merveilles 1,2 Percy Jackson 1 et 2 Chronique de narnia 1,2,3 Légende 1985 Merlin 1998 Casper, Maléfique Le labyrinthe de pan Le cygne noir (2011) Harry Potter série Bright Les gardiens de la galaxie 1,2 L'ascension de Jupiter A-X-L Transformers Armageddon Le jour d'après La stratégie Ender X-Men Life, Prometheus Alien, Passager La guerre des mondes La stratégie d'enfer La série Star Was Chappie Le chaos La guerre des mondes COMÉDIE DE FILLE Année bixestille Le journal d'une princesse 1, 2 Gagner un rendez vous avec Tad Hamilton 13 ans bientot 30 Elle a tout pour elle, Monte Carlo The Parent Trap Sweet Home Alabama, Le prince et moi Et si c'était vrai, Un amour infini Comment perdre son mec en 10 jours Something Borrowed (Duos en trois) Le mariage de mon meilleur ami 27 Robes Les douzes coups de minuit Ma belle est un monstre La fille du président Éloge de la liberté Blonde et légale Méchantes Ados Bring It On (Le tout pour le tout) 1,2,3,4,5 Lettre a Juliette Le diable s'habille en prada Confession d'une accro du shopping Profession hôtesse de l'air Julie & Julia Meilleure ennemies Because I Said So (Cherche homme parfait) Sexfriends, Sexe entre amis A Cinderella Story ACTION ET AVENTURE 300 1 et 2 Rambo : la dernière mission Le casse noisette et les quatres royaumes (The Nutcraker an... Un raccourci dans le temps ( A Wrinkle on Time) Aquaman Venom Le masque de Zorro série Mission impossible série Bumblebee Divergence série Spider Man série Charlie's Angel série Hancok The Island Jumanji 1,2 Life of Pie San Andreas Pacifim Rim 1 et 2 Voyage au centre de la terre 1 et 2 Les aventures de Tintin : Le secret de la licorne Jurassic World série John Wick 1,2 The Equalizer 1,2 Skyscraper (Gratte Ciel) Ant-Man et guêpe (Ant-Man and the Wasp 1,2 Mégalodon (The Meg) Peppermint (Déchainée) La légende d'Hercule, Lara Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Parker Trésor National 1,2 Fast Furious 4,5,6,7,8 le 1 et 2 (version française Rapide et Dangereux) Blanche neige et le chasseur 1 et 2 Mr. S Smith Bleu d'enfer Le mécano : la résurrection 47 Ronin Tigre et dragon Jake Ryan Le gardien Die Hard Rampage Maraudeurs Top Gun (1986) Underworld V for Vendetta ENFANT ET FAMILLE Dora et la cité perdue UglyDolls Jack Frost (1998) Free Willy The Polar Express (Boréal Express) Une nuit au musée Moins Cher La Douzaine 1 et 2 The Lizzie McGuire Movie Hanna Montana: The Movie Une princesse sur la glace Nancy Drew Les 101 Dalmatien Happy Family Pierre Lapin Enchantés Stailion Benji Mes vies de chiens 1,2 Whisper série L'incroyable histoire de Winter le dauphin 1,et 2 Tobby The Amazing Penda Le dragon des mers Chérie j'ai agrandi le bébé The House With a Clock In its Walls Incredibles 1 et 2 DRAME The lake house (La maison près du lac) La série Twilight Salt À Cinq pied de toi (Five feet Apart Midnight Sun (Soleil de minuit) A Star is Born (Une étoile est née) Forever my Girl Beastly (Sortilège) Gold Diggers: The Secret of Bear Mountain 1995 Crossroads (A la croisé des chemins) 2002 Stepmom (La blonde a mon père) Match Point Doux Novembre The Roommate The Other Woman Red Eye (Vol sous haute pression) Flight Plan (Plan de Vol) My Girl (L'été de mes 11 ans) L'arrivée (Arrival) Sully Wicker Park Pearl Harbor P.S. I love You Le porte bonheur (The Lucky One) Tristan & Yseult Le secret de Charlie Hors du temps The Lovely Bones The Notebook Remember Me (La rage de vivre) A Walk To Remember (Une promenade Inoubliable) Une bouteille a la mer Coyote Ugly Apparitions (Libelule) La maison sur la falaise Flicka Sexe Intemtions Black Swan Ou le coeur nous mène Brothers FILM DISNEY À MONSIEUR Dumbo The Lion King Maléfique FILM D'ANIMATION Tout ce qui est film d'animation de Walt Disney, Dream Works. Peut importe, c'est les films que je préfère écouter. Quand j'étais enfant, je me souviendrai toujours à quel point, que j'ai eu beaucoup de plaisir à l'es écouter en boucle. Et encore aujourd'hui, j'ai du plaisir à l'es regarder. C'est des film qui sont réconfortant mais aussi que du bonheur. ANIMATION Ballerina La reine des neiges Coraline Kung fu Penda Rebelle (Brave) Dragon Hôtel Transylvanie Ratatouille Volt L'ère de glace La belle et la bête La petite sirène Pocahontas Cendrillon Le roi Lion Aladdin La princesse des cygnes 1 Le livre de la jungle Moana Abominable Storks Raiponce La princesse et la grenouille Zootopia Lilo et Stich La route d`Eldorado Rox et Rouky Spirit L'empereur du nouveau genre Le chat potté Drôle d'abeille Planet 51 THRILLER The Boy Next Door (2015) La prison de verre Fenêtre secrète The tourist Before I Fall Truth Or Dannce Le beau père (The Stepfather) Sans un bruit 2:22 Kidnap Home Invasion Get Out Sex Crimes COMÉDIE MUSICALE Heartbeats High Strung, Mamma Mia 1,2 Dirty Dancing 1,2 Honey 1,2 The Fame La série Step Up Footloose Romance Titanic Nos étoiles contraires Le voeux un été sur terre The longuest Ride (Le plus beau des chemins) Une seconde chance, Un havre de paix Cher John Everything, Everything Cinquante nuances plus sombres, 10 choses que je déteste de toi Get Over It, Adaline Bleu Saphir Cendrillon Amour et honneur Twilight Fascination A tout les garçons que j'ai aimés Love Simon À tout jamais 1998 COMÉDIE Sex and the City Simplement Irrésistible (Simply Irresistible) 1999 Miss congeniality (Miss personnalité) Patch Adams In Good Company, (En bonne compagnie) Never Been Kissed Home Alone (Maman j'ai ratée l'avion 1,2,3 Dr. Seus 'How the grinch Stole Christmas Le lutin (Elf) Madame Doubtfire The Santa Clause What a Girl Wants Pyjamas Party Sisterhood of the traveling pants New York Minute (Escapade à New York) Clic Bay Watch Game Night l'Abominable vérité Pas si simple Baby boss Book Club Drink, Slay, Love Mère indigne 1 et 2 Pourquoi lui ? Le stagiaire Famille recomposée Joue-la comme Beckham De père en flic 1,2 Intouchable Chérie nous avons été rétrécis Papa, j'ai une maman pour toi (It Takes Two) 1995 Little Giants Back to the Future Trilogy Encore 17 ans (17 Again) Grandes personnes Just Go With It (méchant menteur) LES MEILLEURES SÉRIES QUE J'AI ÉCOUTER Buffy contre les vampires Charmed 2018 Charmed Le chalet Chicago fire Dawson Dexter Elite Everwood Greenhouse Académie Good Witch (un soupçon de magie) Gossip Girl Grimm Gilmore Girls Heroes Izombie Jane the Virgin Lucifer Nashville Newport Beach Once Upon A Time Orange the new Black Prison Break Pretty Little Liars Riverdale Stranger things Scream Shadow Hunters Sense 8 Supernatural (Surnaturel) Switched at Birth Teen Wolf True Blood That' 70s Show Thirteen Reason Why - 13 Raisons Vampire Diaries PALMARÈS DE MES MEILLEURES FILMS Tout les films de Nicholas Sparks Le mariage de mon meilleur ami La blonde a mon père Titanic L'homme au masque de fer High Strung L'été de mes 11 ans Crossroad Le secret de bear mountain Un baiser enfin Coraline Miss personnalité A tout jamais (1998) Le jour d'après La belle et la bête (film à monsieur) La reine des neiges Ballerina Le livre de la jungle(film à monsieur) Fenêtre Secrète AUTRES SÉRIES À DÉCOUVRIR Younger Scandal Murder Revenge Beauté Désespérées Hart of Dixie gg

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aventuresdemma · 5 years

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Une journée dans les chaussures d’Audrey Hepburn

Aujourd’hui était incroyable et je vais le souvenir pour toute ma vie. J’ai l’honneur de voir où Audrey Hepburn, une femme que j’admire totalement et je considère comme mon example pour comment vivre. Je suis très reconnaissante pour l’expérience.

Dans le matin, presque 11h, je suis allée à Tolochenaz, la ville où Audrey habitait après qu’elle a quitté les films. J’ai vu sa tombe et un petit peu de sa maison (comme moi, elle adorait les plantes, en fait c’est difficile de voir sa maison à cause de tous les plantes dans son jardin).

Parce que Tolochenaz est très petit et il n’y a que des maisons, je suis partie à pied pour Morges. Oui, en Suisse, c’est facile de marcher à une autre ville dans moins que 30 minutes. En fait, Morges a un itinéraire de randonnée qui passe entre Tolochenaz. Alors, j’ai pris cela. Quand je suis arrivée à Morges, j’ai mangé un sandwich dans un café, j’ai acheté un panier dans un marché dans la rue, et j’ai visité un château. De plus, j’ai acheté le chocolat et un petit morceau d’un gâteau chocolaté à une boulangerie qu’Audrey aimait.

J’ai suit l’itinéraire de randonnée encore (qui passe au Lac Léman) pour dire au revoir à Audrey. Pour moi, c’était important de vivre comme elle peut-être vivait. Je vois beaucoup de moi-même dans elle (basé sur comment ses fils le décrivent) : une femme timide qui aime les animaux et les plantes, qui se sent plus à l’aise avec la nature, qui est introvert, qui aime aider des autres, mais qui déteste être le centre d’attention. J’ai fait tout cela seule parce qu’il vaut beaucoup à moi, et j’avait l’envie de vraiment ressentir la journée. (Vous pouvez voir les photos dans les trois derniers posts.)

Today was unspeakable et I will remember it for the rest of my life. I had the chance to see where Audrey Hepburn, a woman that I really look up to and I consider my role model. I am so grateful for the experience.

In the morning, around 11:00am, I went to Tolochenaz, the town where Audrey lived after she retired from Hollywood. I saw her grave and a little bit of her house (like me, she loved plants, actually it’s difficult to see her house because of all the plants that still exist in her garden).

Because Tolochenaz is very small and there are only houses there, I walked over to Morges. Yes, you read that right, in Switzerland, it’s easy to walk to another town in under 30 minutes. In fact, Morges has a nature trail that passes through Tolochenaz. So, I took that. When I arrived in Morges, I ate a sandwich in a cafe, bought a basket at a street market, and visited a castle. Also, I bought chocolate and a small slice of chocolate cake at a bakery that Audrey liked to frequent.

I followed the nature trail again (which passes by Lake Geneva) to say goodbye to Audrey. For me, it was important to live like she might have. I see a lot of myself in her (based off of how her sons describe her): a shy girl who loves animals and plants, who feels at home with the nature, who is an introvert, who likes to help others, but who hates being the center of attention. I did this alone because it meant a lot to me, and I wanted to really enjoy and relish in the outing. (You can see the photos of this in the past three posts)

MERCI ! UNTIL NEXT TIME MES AMIS !

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cestlemoment · 5 years

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‘ no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay. ’

warm suggestions | @garconlost

❝ lucas, tu ━ tu ne comprends pas.❞ that’s unfair of him; it’s unfair of him to shut down, shut lucas out. and he can’t hide forever, as much as he wants to, as much as he wants to just hide out and just live in an apocalypse bunker with lucas, get everything they need delivered by drones… or something … and then he never has to deal with anything, ever again. a little bit of him is terrified that something’s going to happen, something’s going to get in his head, that seeing them is going to trigger something, that he’s going to have another episode. (which, he shouldn’t, he’s way too tired for that, if he has to go through that again, so soon, he doesn't know how he’s going to get out of it.) ❝ ils me détestent.❞ swallows hard, and he feels a bit shaky, reaching for lucas’ hands, trying to steady himself. ❝ je – je leur ai manqué de respect, leur religion, tout le chose. j’ai flippe, lucas, totalement.❞ and sofiane probably saw everything, heard everything, hates him. he doesn’t want to go anywhere, he doesn’t want to see anyone, he just wants to stay and hide away from everything with lucas. but he’s been more honest in the past two minutes than he has been, about this, before. ❝ je ne veux pas dire, lucas, s'il te plaîs, tu vas me détester. ❞ and he can’t handle lucas hating him. ❝ tu vas me détester. si tu sais. je sais.❞ his chest chokes up, thinking about the awful, awful things he’s said; if lucas knew, he wouldn’t be able to reconcile it, he knows. ❝ c'était horrible, j'étais horrible.❞ he’s a bad person, he is. and he’s pulling away, moving away, and he can’t look at lucas, arms crossing over his chest, keeping himself together. ❝ je ne veux pas que tu me détestes.❞ fuck, he’s freaking out about this, and they have to leave soon, and he knows that if he does totally panic, lucas won’t make him go anywhere. ❝ lucas, je ne peux pas en parler maintenant.❞ a sigh, and he’s shaking his head, hands moving to press his palms against his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying or any of that. ❝ plus tard, finalement, je te promets. s’il te plaîs.❞

#garconlost #❛ ‹ i. &. threads ; i want my life back ˏ i want myself back. / eliott demaury › ❜#i bet u can guess what this is alluding to like they're going to go hang out w people and its going to end up having #The Boys there and sofiane and idris and just #he's like 'fuck .... Fuck ... this isn't going to be good'#just vague 'im a bad person' and im Upset #and he doesn't want to lie to lucas he just doesn't know how to say what he needs to say

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diabolicxl · 6 years

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Two Truths & A Lie (3/3)

DATE ❦ 11th June, 2011 LOCATION ❦ Ibiza, Spain WORDCOUNT ❦ 960 TRIGGERS ❦ Violence, death SUMMARY ❦ Philippe deals with the aftermath of Édith’s betrayal.

He stood by the fire pit, covered in blood and surrounded by the dead bodies of witches. “Please,” the creature by his feet begged with the vampire’s hand wrapped around his throat. “Please,” he pleaded with a broken voice, running out of air, and Philippe smiled down at him. The fire shone in his light irises, red like blood, before he sunk his fangs into his flesh and ripped him apart.

“Arrêtez!” She cried out from where he had left her bleeding and bound. “Il est déjà mort, Philippe!” He stopped feasting on the witch’s flesh to stand tall once more, blood dripping down his chin to his neck, clothes stained red. A smile painted his features and his eyes were darkened by blood lust. He turned to look at Édith and she quivered at the sight of the demon before her.

Philippe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Vous osez me commander?” He asked, walking towards her. The witch backed towards the wall, wincing when pain shot through her. The vampire smiled. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” His voice was slow and he crouched down before the witch, pleased to watch her suffer. “To stand against me. Doesn’t it hurt so much?”

“Don’t,” she said and her eyes were wide with fear, but her features still clung onto her anger. “If you are going to kill me, then kill me. End this.”

“Te tuer?” He breathed out and chuckled, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what you have done?” His voice was low and threatening, eyes darkening again, fangs sharp in his mouth. “When I look at you, all I see is what a fool I must have looked like to you… Following you in here, trusting every word that came out of your mouth…”

“I trusted you too,” Édith threw back, brown eyes welled up. For a moment, she forgot about her fear and anger consumed her instead, burning in her veins. “You were everything to me! You saved me! But that was a lie,” she spat, the urge to attack boiling in her veins. “You say magic is precious, that witchcraft is precious, that who I am is precious… but you slaughtered an entire coven?”

Philippe grabbed her by the neck, squeezing her throat into silence. “That… was a long time ago,” he breathed out. “They poisoned your mind against me, and you... You were too weak to resist hating me.”

A laugh rolled off her tongue, tears spilling from her eyes. “I do hate you,” she whispered. “Je te déteste plus que tout ce que je déteste, démon. You murdered my ancestors. I can hear them begging me to avenge them.”

“Fais-le, Édith,” he leaned in to whisper, his hold around her throat tightening. She grabbed him by the wrist with both hands, squeezing it in a weak attempt to make him let go of her. He didn’t. Instead, the vampire pulled her closer towards him, staining her skin with the blood of her fallen friends. “Avenge them. What are you waiting for?”

She tried to focus her anger into her hands, to make him burn and give him the true death he deserved, but pain shot through her again, the wound on her thigh spilling blood, making her pale and weak. Philippe laughed and threw her back against the wall, drawing another soft cry from her lips. “You can’t bury the past,” she warned him, keeping herself up on her palms, sight darkening. “It will catch up with you, Philippe, and if not by my hands, you will die by someone else’s. Je peux te le promettre.”

He stood on his feet, towering above her, and looked down at the broken woman. There was disgust on his face while his eyes roamed her figure. Bitter disappointment. “I can’t?” Philippe shot back, shaking his head. “You have always lacked imagination, my dear Édith.” He stepped back and a chuckle slipped through his parted lips. “This is a tomb… and it feels like the perfect place to bury my past in.” His brows rose on his forehead before he stretched a hand towards her. “And you along with it.”

“No,” she said, lifting her brown eyes to glare at him. “Kill me, you coward! Kill me or I swear I’ll find you again.”

The vampire laughed again. “Find me, little girl? You will never get out of this maze alive.” He threw a body into the pit and watched the flames lick it, reaching higher into the room. “Doux rêves, Édith,” he wished, storming out of the room, slamming the doors shut behind himself to muffle her scream and tearing the walls of the maze down on his way out. The cave collapsed around him and by the time he reached its mouth, dust followed him outside. Centuries upon centuries of history buried in stone, never to be found.

He moved the rock that hid the entrance of the cave to roll it into its mouth so no one would ever find it again. Buried and forgotten, he looked at the grave where he left her surrounded by the dead, blood and fire. His heart was broken and it was for the best, the vampire thought, for he was never meant to trust another. To someone like him, that should’ve been unthinkable, and yet he had fallen prey to his own wishful thinking and loneliness. Not again, he swore to himself, lifting his eyes to look at the brightening skies.

The sun would be out soon. He must find shelter first, then he would start over. Ibiza would be where he rose from the ashes of a long forgotten past, washing the blood off his skin and the memories from his mind.

A white canvas.

#& drabbles.#old and embarrassing. nobody judge #philippe: 7

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