#oh and french lol

[vibinwiththefrogs]

end of year language ask game!!

6. What was your favorite book you read in your target language this year? and,

7. Did you find a new favorite music artist in your TL this year?

Thank you for the ask!!

6) My favorite was 돌이킬 수 없는 약속 (roughly "an irreversible promise"); it's actually a Japanese book, the original name is 誓約 (seiyaku/oath or pledge). It was one of the number one sellers when I was in S. Korea in 2019. My Korean wasn't great at the time but I got it so I could read it when I improved. And omg it really is a thriller with a lot of twists and turns. Like at times I was going feral because I read slowly in Korean and I wanted to read faster haha. The general plot without giving too much away is this guy made a promise to an old lady when he was in his early 20s that he would kill two men for her when they get out of prison, and in return she would pay off his debt to the Yakuza. She passes away, but years later when the guy has forgotten about it and has a family, he starts getting threats from an unknown source to go murder the men because they had just been released from prison. There's a lot more detail and twists and turns than that but I'll leave that to anyone who wants to read it (:

7) Hmm I don't know if I have a single favorite artist honestly, and I don't think any I found new this year that I would place in my top 3. I just came across Furui Riho recently and I really like her music, particularly Psycho and Super Star have a really great beat. She may climb the ranks to be one of my faves

[almondcroissantsandink]

i feel the need--the need for speed!

[fluentisonus]

[autisticandroids]

CASTIEL: Stop. What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me - not love, not respect, just fear.

[youtube with closed captions]

a godstiel pity party. i'd like to thank an anon i got way back in february of 2021.

[allthatispeculiar]

[theorahsart]

I've read several ancedotes in this book about Robspierre that make me convinced he was autistic, and then read about this hilarious incident the other day on Tumblr, and felt compelled to draw a silly comic about it.

[whimsicalcotton]

tfw u gotta rescue ur situationship's situationship from freezing to death. call that polycule bonding <3

[siphisket]

Your pfp reminded me of Yugo from Wakfu, which is a fun French show that has its first 3 seasons on Netflix, and its fourth season is elsewhere. Highly recommend, love Wakfu.

Aw it looks like a cute show! France has some incredible animation talent too, so I'm excited to check it out

I wonder which character is Yu-

Proudly adding this to my non-comprehensive list of 12-year-olds, gender fuckers, and 12-year-old gender fuckers I've been compared to lol

[originalaccountname]

Chuuya yelling while coming through the window in 5 different languages, you're welcome

[antoineee-x3]

series of doodles that'll i'll probably make a tag of, maybe later or nah...

haven't posted something on my main, btw these are just quick doots i made cuz i'm bored

bonus wigless bonbon under the cut and no speech bubbles... ↓

i don't even bother erasing some overlapping but thaT's fine ig... (i made like two versions of these, 1st one is what i draw frequently but i made an alternate hairstyle so i can distinguish him differently as well)

borderless version of the orig:]

[evilfloralfoolery]

Love Bites - Part 2

Like the title says. ;)

**Also, make sure you realize that werewolves and vampires are creatures that feast on blood and flesh. If this type of thing bothers you, this fic is not for you. There's going to be blood. Curate your internet experience accordingly.

Please see the end of the fic for translations and such fuckery.

Enjoy!

____________________________

Like himself, Marrok is a creature of the night, so there is no surprise in Lucian when he awakens at dusk to find the werewolf still sleeping beside him.  Not that Lucian himself truly “slept.”  The slumber of a vampire was more of a deep, meditative void.  He had gone weeks without “sleeping.”  Now, it was a sort of indulgence to lie beside his lover, who did still require rest.  

At least it had been as such, until this vile misfortune had been foisted upon him. Now, resting was a necessity until the wretched foolishness of his body had healed itself.  Exactly when that might be, he did not know.

Marrok grumbles in his sleep and rolls onto his side, one arm flopping across Lucian’s body.  Whether it is the werewolf’s need for “pack behavior” or a true desire to be close does not matter.  Lucian takes the opportunity just the same.  

He curls against Marrok’s bare chest, lulled by the steady, pulsing rhythm of his heart.  That is, until his own body decides upon retribution.  Always at the most insufferable and inconvenient of times.

There is no time to grope for his handkerchief, no time to pull away. Instead, he must contend with the indecency of steepling his hands over his nose and mouth, muffling a poorly constrained “--nnkgSSCHuh!” into their confines. 

The slumbering cadence of Marrok’s breathing stops.

“Je suis désolée, mon cher,” Lucian says from behind the cover of his hands. “I am stihh–still—-hhhuuhIKGSSSCH-U! Ugh, mon dieu.”

Marrok chuckles. “Hmn, I’d ask if you’re dying, but–”

“Ferme ta gueule,” Lucian says, which only earns him a louder, much more pointed laugh.

“Make me.”  Marrok grabs Lucian’s wrists, tugging his hands away from his face.  “And quit it with the hands.” 

Lucian huffs. “Would you rather I show such indecency to your bare chest, then?”

“Yeah,” Marrok says.  “I would.” 

Rough, calloused palms cup his face and Marrok kisses him with such passionate vigor that Lucian moans against his mouth.  Purely involuntary, of course. 

“I’d like to fuck the starlight out of you right now.”  Marrok runs his tongue over Lucian’s bottom lip.  “But I’ve got wolf shit to do.”

“Do you?”  Lucian’s hand wanders between the werewolf’s legs, nails scraping his inner thigh.  “What sorrow for you.” 

“Goddamn it.” Chills march up Marrok’s arm and it is now Lucian’s turn to chuckle. 

“You began this.  The fault is yours.” 

In the distance, a chorus of howls too vocally eerie to be mere wolves escalates and Marrok grumbles.  “They’re doing stupid shit.  I gotta go.” 

Lucian withdraws his hand and sits up with a pointed sniffle. “I will try not to be too unwell in your absence.” 

Marrok rolls his eyes.  “Whatever. I’m going to go kill something.” 

One golden eyebrow arches. “Something or someone?”

“Does it matter?” Marrok crosses the distance back to the balcony and hops onto the ornate rail. 

“It does, if one has taste.” 

Marrok makes a show of extending both middle fingers. “Taste this.” 

He vaults over the side of the balcony and lands somewhere in the courtyard, disappearing into the underbrush before Lucian can track his movements.

_______________________________

By the time Marrok returns, darkness has fallen to the fullest extent, the air heavy with the scent of night blooming jasmine and fresh oleander.  

And the metallic sweetness of fresh blood. 

“I take it your hunt was successful.” Lucian files the edges of one nail into a fastidious point and sits back to admire the shape for a moment. 

“Yes.” 

One side of Marrok's face is coated in slick, glistening crimson, brutal to some, but alluring to the vampire.  How fortunate was he to have such a magnificent creature to indulge and woo. 

Upon noticing Lucian’s amorous stare, the werewolf tilts his head with a smirk. “You like what you see?” 

“Oui. J'adore votre folie.” Lucian sets the file down and rises to his feet. “Now, kiss me while the taste of life is still fresh upon your lips.”

“Mmn, that's hot,”  Marrok says. 

And he complies readily. Eagerly. While there are plenty of deer and other prey in the nearby woods, tonight's feast has been human. Lucian can taste it, can see the flicker of images within his lover's mind. 

A man with intent to do far more than follow a young woman home. Another with an abhorrent collection of photos from those who did not give consent. 

But of course. Beneath the simmering rage and bluster lurked a vigilante dressed in fur and fangs. Not that Marrok would ever admit to such a thing. 

Just as Lucian was loath to admit the stupidity that had caused his current condition.  While Marrok's accusations had been false for the most part, Lucian had placated him the falsehood of ignorance when questioned about how he had managed to become so suddenly ill.

Lucian was more than aware of how it had come to pass.  Despite popular folklore, sunlight would not destroy him. Too much exposure to it would, however, prove to be terrible for his well being. Hunting during the day was not his preference, but at times, nature proved to be stronger than common sense. 

And speaking of such things, his sinuses saw fit to remind him of his idiocy several times an hour. Obviously, he is now somehow overdue. 

He places a hand upon Marrok's bare chest to indicate his need for distance. “Ah, pardon. I am-hhhuuh!” He fights the urge for all of three seconds before managing to tug his handkerchief free of his sleeve, where he had tucked it away for easy access. “IHSSSCHu! Hhhhhiiiih-hhh-uuh. . . ! HhhISSSCCH–UUH!’  The hand switches to light upon his own chest, as if he must do so to catch his breath. “Mon dieu! My apologies.”

“Huh.” Marrok studies him with a furrowed brow. “You really are sick.” 

“Why such surprise? I told you as much myself.” Lucian muffles another wrenching sneeze into the folds of the cloth. “I have abused many handkerchiefs while you were away.”

“Oh yeah?” Darkness swallows the yellow of Marrok's eyes until only a slight ring remains. “How many?”

“More than you have fingers, mon cher.”

“Fuuuck,” Marrok says with such soft, vehement feeling that Lucian chuckles.  

He does not, however, return his lips to their previous plundering. Instead, he buries his face in Lucian's mess of golden waves and inhales the scent of him like he is somehow drawing sustenance from it. 

“You haven't fed.” Marrok’s voice is almost tender for a moment before it is replaced with his signature sass. “You want some of this?” He gestures to himself with a saucy grin. 

“You have spent much time hunting,” Lucian says. “No harm will come to me if I do not. . . “ His words trail into nothingness, for Marrok has dragged his nail over his wrist, slicing the sun-bronzed skin just enough for a thin rivulet of blood to drip from his fingers. 

“Come on.” Marrok runs his tongue up the side of his hand, his lips wet with a vermillion shine. “You know I taste good.” 

Lucian rakes a hand through hair with a huff. “Putain de merde.” 

That gets a raucous laugh from Marrok, who soon finds himself pinned to the wall, an arm across his throat and fingers twisted into that unruly mane that has the audacity to call itself “hair.” 

“You want my neck instead? Do you, Lucian?” He tilts his head to one side in invitation. “Do it.” 

Marrok's heartbeat calls to him, a slow and steady throb without fear or dread. 

All restraint is lost.

Lucian sinks his fangs into the flesh, the hot pulse of life rushing over his tongue, filling his senses and reviving him like no mortal blood can manage.  Marrok tastes of savage magic, of wildness and defiance, as rich as the finest indulgence and bolder than any wine could ever muster.

He takes only enough to bring warmth to his skin and quell the odd chill that seems to have settled deep within his bones somehow. 

But Marrok does not move away. 

“You didn't take much.”

“It was enough.” 

“It wasn’t enough.” 

Already, the small punctures on Marrok's throat have begun to heal, a true testament to his preternatural nature. 

Lucian doesn't bother to wipe the blood from his lips or address the fact that it has left a wet trail down his chest.  Instead, he slips the few remaining buttons away from their holes and allows the shirt to slide from his shoulders and onto the ground. The way Marrok’s gaze follows his every move is more than appreciative, it is predatory.  Hungry for a different manner of satiation. 

“Is there something that you desire to taste?” Lucian glances over his shoulder, strands of his flaxen hair adhered to his cheek by Marrok’s own essence.  “Something you wish to devour?”

Marrok snorts.  “Fuck you.”

But the words are a teasing retort and not the anger that had so fiercely gripped him earlier. 

Marrok stalks him like prey, his stare steady and penetrating, head lowered, breathing deep and controlled. Before he can pin Lucian to the bed, the vampire is suddenly behind him, an arm around his throat in a reverse strangle hold. 

“Since you have such concern for my well being, mon amour, I will satisfy your curiosities.”  He hefts the much larger, snarling werewolf into his arms, as if he is a mere wisp of a being and tosses him onto the bed where he lands with a most ungraceful thud. 

It is Lucian who does the holding now, pinning Marrok's shoulders to the bed sheets.

“Ah, je suis désolée.” Lucian chuckles with dark repose as he runs a finger down Marrok's nose, pausing to tap the tip. “Did you want to be on top?”

To his rather sadistic amusement, Marrok does not struggle, choosing instead to lace his fingers behind his head and stretch beneath Lucian's body. 

“Nah,” Marrok says with a smirk. “I'll just chill here and let you please me.”  

He does, however, fist a handful of Lucian's blood-and-flaxen waves, jerking his head to one side. “Don't bite my dick.” 

Lucian laughs with such improper lunacy that the birds perched on the balcony railing scatter into the night sky. 

_____________________

TBC . . . .

Mon dieu - My god Oui. J'adore votre folie - Yes. I adore your madness Mon cher - My dear/My darling Ferme ta gueule- Shut your mouth Putain de merde - Fucking hell (or what the fuck, in other contexts) Mon amour - My love Je suis désolée - I am sorry

[motions1ckn3ss]

happy barricade day!

i'm not a writer or an artist, so i didn't have anything planned to share on this barricade day (my first one properly being in the fandom!). but it had just gone midnight here in the uk, and i was listening to don't delete the kisses by wolf alice and thinking about how much it worked with enjolras and grantaire and thus, in the space of an hour, this edit was born. enjoy!

[lordansketil]

I cannot tell you how much it does my head in that one of the key figures in Britain's secret service during the Napoleonic Wars was named Wickham. I read a sentence like "Wickham's secret service expenditure for the first six months of 1800 for paying agencies, agents and the armies of Pichegru and Willot amounted to £3,682,520" and my brain like:

...THIS GUY????

[carpisuns]

fear him if you dare

[another-clive-blog]

TW eye contact and swearing

Was watching a Terrible French series for my sister when I came across this banger scene and it just screamed THEM

Transcript under the cut !!

Clive : I'm not going to kill you for what you did to me or because you are and always will be a terrible prime minister. No, you are going to die because of Léonie Renond.

Bill Hawks : ... Who ? (Disappointed voter maybe ?)

Clive, listing the names of some of the explosion's victims : Léonie Renond. Renaud Mastri. Louise Berne.

Bill Hawks, off screen : Wait, hold on- I don't understand-

Clive, leaning in : OF COURSE you don't understand, you don't give a FLYING FUCK about any of this you son of a bitch !!!

[skyloftian-nutcase]

So speaking of magic affecting biology. What long-term biological affects do you think the various transformations the LU boys have gone through have on them? I think with Twilight and Legend, the affects are more evident with their markings, but beyond just facial markings, how do the transformations affect them? Does Twilight need to eat more meat or eat his meat rarer than before? Does Legend learn towards a more vegetarian diet and feel sick if he eats meat or need to hydrate more often because of t he fish tail item? Does Time sometimes fluctuate between different baselines depending on the many, many transformations he has? Does Hyrule require sugar the way we require proteins and carbs?

I mean, you can have as much fun with it as possible, I can’t realistically say what effects magic would have lol. Personally, the way I look at it is lingering habits rather than physical effects.

Twi automatically has wolf instincts and mannerisms when he becomes one. If he’s been one too long, some habits bleed over for a little bit when he turns back. Big stretches, zoomies that he just doesn’t bother reeling in, flopping on people. But he has to be a wolf a good while for that to seep over - it happens far more on his adventure than in LU.

If Time switches between masks too much in too short a span of time, he’ll forget his body’s size/capabilities. He gets stuck in a hole one time, his butt and legs wiggling helplessly, because he’d been a deku scrub earlier and something else before that and, well, the hole looked like he’d fit in it. No, he’s never calling for help, he’ll just stay here until he can unstick himself, thank you very much.

I feel like Legend is ashamed for his dark world form and would avoid ever turning into it if possible. But maybe during his adventure he’d freeze up when he hears something, like a bunny does, and it’s a habit that has continued because it allows him to better examine his surroundings.

Hyrule very much strikes me as somebody who will do anything to accomplish a goal and not necessarily think twice about it. He’d jump in and out of fairy form within a minute’s time, so it would never be long enough to really develop any kind of habits. That boy’s always on the move, but I feel like he prefers being himself rather than, say, turn into a fairy and explore the whole world like that. But that’s just the vibe I get 🤷🏻‍♀️