#sighs. someday i'll paint them again

[doom-dreaming]

Vanessa Molina - Zombie On Fire

More photos (and words) under the cut!

I bought this from the June 2020 Polish Pickup and I think the theme of that one was cocktails? Hence the name. Interestingly enough, this is now the second polish I own that's named after a zombie cocktail (the other being Blue Zombie from Scofflaw). I always feel a little bit bad for showing off discontinued or limited-edition colors, but it's a good way to showcase what the brand offers, even if that specific color is no longer available.

This beauty is so full of effects - it's magnetic, it's got tons of glitter and color-shifting flakes, and the base itself is a wild multichrome that ranges from a reddish-violet to orange to green to gold at the most extreme angles. See the first picture, obviously.

The magnetic effect is somewhat more subtle than others; the color shift is silvery, so it's more of a cat's-eye effect than a striking ribbon of contrasting shimmer, but it works for this polish because of everything else going on with it. Case in point, check out the sparkle in these blurry glitter-shots. We've got gold, orange, pink, red, a little bit of purple and blue, so much happening.

As much as I love putting together elaborate nail art, sometimes simpler is better (and always easier), and I was inspired by the name of this one to just do some negative-space flames with black and it turned out looking great! Fun fact: this is the same stamp I used for the flame nail in the Tyreen Calypso BorderNails design and it looks cool as hell on longer nails.

All of these photos were taken inside during a sunny afternoon and for some reason, getting my hand directly up against the window seemed to work best for the Extreme Angle™️ pics. As per all of my nailposting, these photos use my Instagram watermark and they have been cleaned up digitally, but not color-adjusted (from what I remember, some of these are really old).

[whyareyoulookingatmelikethat]

[13]: Twirling Thread

(Longer than my usual stories.)

This took a while, heh. Sorry for the wait in regards of stories, writer's block has arrived at Destination Me.

Not sure if I'll do the rest of the characters, feeling pretty down. Maybe someday.

(Reader is the costume designer for the toons. The names above each paragraph of writing are the names of certain skins in the game.)

Boxten: “Cloudy Dream”

“Almost…almost…there!”

You sat up to lean back and look over your work.The prettiest shade of lavender dripped from a small paintbrush you held, a can of white as well close by.

“Okay, we can let it dry, and then you can take the tarp off. Don’t want your clothes to get paint on them too.”

He reached up gingerly to pat his face down as he normally would, but you grabbed his hand quickly, forcing it away.

“Boxten…”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s a habit…”

Poppy: “Sapphire Dots”

“You’re sure this isn't a bit tacky?”

“I don’t care if it's tacky, what matters is I’m wearing it, and I’m proud!”

“Being proud doesn’t hide a poor sense of fashion.”

“Y/N!!!”

Tisha: “Lavender Maid”

“And to top it all off…”

You brought out the item from behind your back and gave it to her.

“A brand new feather duster!”

She gasped in delight, and gently put it down, then hugged you.

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much! The old one I had was getting so dirty, and I can't really wash stuff like that…”

“Hehe, I’m excited to see you use it! Have fun!”

Finn: “Prismatic Pal”

“MORE SHINE! MORE!!”

“FINN THIS IS GETTING TO BE TOO MUCH-”

“THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS TOO MUCH SHINE, I WANT TO LOOK LIKE THE SUN!!!!”

“FINN YOU’RE ALREADY TOO BRIGHT FOR ME TO LOOK AT!!”

Razzle And Dazzle: “Seafoam”

“You’re doing a lot for us, you know. (Are you sure?)”

“Yes I’m sure! Besides, if you guys are going to perform sometime, you’ll need different outfits, right?”

“She’s got a point!” “(Alright then…but at least make it something simple.)”

“Aw, okay then. How does a mix of greens sound?”

“It won't be something like yellow-green, will it? (Yuck…)”

“Nope, more like turquoise.”

“Oooh, I’m excited to see how it looks! (Sounds pretty…)”

Cosmo: “Caramel Drizzle”

“I thought that maybe because you and Sprout are friends, you guys could have matching outfits! Whaddya say?”

“Really? Oh, yes please! That’s very sweet of you to think of us…”

“It’s not much really. Here, can you turn around so I can adjust your apron?”

Cosmo patiently did as you said, waiting as you secured the warm orange bow around his back. He only turned around again under your gentle pulling motions so you could smooth out his apron.

“And…this might be a bit hot, but please bear with me. It’s caramel after all.”

You took the bottle from the stand next to you, making a quick drizzle motion so it lined perfectly on top of his head.

You poured a little sauce on your hand to dab on his cheeks, then wiped your hands off and leaned down to get the perfect angle to place the stars in, sticking your tongue out as you worked.

He didn’t tear up or hiss at how hot it is though, he seemed to let out a sigh and…melt?

…He actually looked pretty content.

“Warm…”

I guess that confirms it.

Flutter: “Vibrant Monarch”

“Be still, I’m almost done.”

Flutter nervously flapped her wings, slapping you in the face every so often and nearly knocking you out of your chair.

“Please Flutter, the paint will be blurry and won’t look good if you keep moving.”

“...!!!”

“I know you don’t like standing, but you need to right now! You can fly all you want when I’m done.”

“...!”

“Thank you.”

She lightly tapped the floor with her foot as if testing the waters, flinching every so often, before she set both feet on the ground and stood stiffly, anxiously waiting for you to finish.

Goob: “Special Spaghetti”

“I want to commit cannibalism on myself.”

“What-”

Goob: “Fun Partygoer”

“Ooooooh, I get a party hat too??”

“Yes you do Goob, let- let me- adjust it please-! Please stOp BOunCIng!“

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to see how I look!”

“I get it I get it, but pleas-!”

The party hat crumpled under a particularly high jump.

“...”

“...”

You sat down, head in your hands and started crying.

“WAIT NONONO Y/N I-!”

Glisten: “Warm Sweater”

(Based off my opinion! I love blue and white, but THE MAKEUP RAAAAA-)

“I still think the eyeshadow is a bit much.”

“Well, I don’t!”

“But you say you look good no matter what you wear, right…?”

“...Yes…”

“So you shouldn’t have a problem with no eyeshadow because it’ll look just as good!”

“But I- you-!”

“End of conversation.”

(Glisten somehow convinced you to give him back his makeup)

Gigi: “Rainy Day”

“But I don’t waaaaaannaaaaa!”

“Gigi, it’s still an oversized sweater. You’re basically just changing the color of it and adding some drawstrings, okay?”

“Noooooooooo…but…b-but…”

“Yeah I know what a butt is, you have one yourself. Now give me that―”

You yanked the sweater out of her hands, cutting yourself off as you stumbled back, “―Thank you!”

Quickly checking for rips and finding nothing, you let out a sigh of relief, then immediately raised your hand in the air to avoid her grabbing ones.

“Nooooooo, gimme it back!”

You sighed again, walking over to the dresser―well, as best you could with a whiny Gigi trying to trip you― and pulled out a yellow sweater with a hood.

Placing her old clothes on a high shelf so she couldn’t reach it, you turned and picked her up, setting her down to sit on the edge of the dresser and pulled the yellow sweater over her head.

Her crying instantly stopped and she snuggled down into it, content. You let out another(she’s a handful to deal with) sigh and sat down next to her, petting her head.

Sprout: “Salted Caramel”

“And you’re sure that you’ll be fine?”

“Yes, Y/n! Now just do it!”

You hesitantly poured the bucket of caramel on him, covering half of his face bit by bit while also making sure not to get the petals wet.

You let out a sigh of relief as the last drop dripped from the container, making a quiet plip sound as it joined the rest of the warm sauce.

The rest of it settled on the tarp below, collecting in a puddle that stained his feet orange. You’d have to clean him later.

He reached up a hand, messing with the caramel on his face before you slapped his hand away.

“No! I’ll have to put a new coating on you if you mess with it.”

He simply chuckled in response, “Not like I’d mind.”

Vee: “Cosmic Signal”

You sighed in relief as you checked over her mic, making sure there weren’t any scratches.

“Okay…finally done. Oof, that took a lot out of me.”

“I can tell. Making 25 different costumes that actually look good isn’t exactly an easy job.”

You perked up upon hearing this.

“So you DO like Scraps' costume!”

“What!? I-”

“I’m joking, I already know.”

She just glared at you and looked to the side.

[housewarningparty]

Buffy/Faith + cold, scar, kiss

(For the "send me three words and a character/ship" and I'll write you a scene ask game)

So there's really only one idea for a BodLang sequel that I really care about doing someday and it's this: like two years after the epilogue, Faith goes back to Boston to settle some affairs when she finds out her dad has died and Buffy goes with her. This would be a scene from that hypothetical fic. TW for non-specific references to child abuse (we ARE talking about Faith's family background)

--

“Faith.” Her name escapes Buffy's lips in a cloud of steam, dissolving into the winter air in a second, so fast it might as well have never existed. Buffy clenches her fists tight at her sides and takes a halting step forward, says it again, softer, more carefully. “Faith.”

Faith doesn't turn around. She's got her hands, bare, gloveless, braced on a metal rail. It's cold enough to snow, though it hasn't yet, and Buffy knows it must be cold enough to burn. She wants to reach out, to fold her arms around Faith's body and pull her back, encircle Faith in warmth, take her away from the pain that seems to lurk in every corner of this city. But she doesn't. Not yet. It wouldn't do any good, not before Faith is ready.

“I'm good,” Faith lies, voice rough, head bowed. Her shoulders don't shake, her hands don't leave the rail.

“You're not,” Buffy says, taking another step closer but stopping short of reaching out to touch her. “And you don't have to be, but don't lie about it. Not to me.”

Faith nods, looses a sigh that deflates the rigid set of her shoulders. She seems to shrink, finally, curling in on herself. She cants her head a little, looking sidelong at Buffy for the first time since she swept out of the apartment. “Sorry.”

“It's alright,” Buffy says and she means it. 

“I didn't think it would bother me this bad,” Faith laughs this brittle, hollow laugh, and Buffy can hear the tears in her voice now, even as she shakes her head, sniffing hard to keep them at bay. “I thought, y'know. It'd be good to go back. I'm strong now, y'know? I'm a slayer. And my life is good. I've got friends and I've got you. More than I ever thought I'd get, so. So — y'know, we’re here anyway and it makes sense, come back, get some closure. Thought it would reframe things, being back, really feel how different I am after all these years. How grown.”

Faith pauses and turns around, looking up at the streetlight hanging over them instead of at Buffy directly, the halogen bulb pouring yellow light over her in the dark. “What a fuckin’ joke.” Faith sniffs again, eyes squeezing shut against tears and runs a knuckle over her nose, hard and fast enough to make Buffy wince. “Swear to God, I've never felt any smaller.”

Buffy feels her heart throb in her chest, bruised and aching like a something slammed shut in a doorway. She can't help herself, taking another step closer, reaching a hand out to brush against Faith's cheek. When she doesn't flinch back or pull away, Buffy takes another step forward, brushes back the hair that's fallen into Faith's face, tucks it gently behind her ear.

“The things that fuckin' happened to me in that apartment, B, I swear,” Faith chokes out, sniffing hard again. “I don't even want to tell you.”

Someday, Buffy hopes she will. She dreads it, also, because she knows it will hurt. Faith has let some things slip over the years that paint a nasty picture. And there's more still Faith hasn't had to say, hasn't had a choice in revealing. There's a story in the cluster of too-round burn scars below her ribs, on the back of her right shoulder blade. 

“I'm sorry,” Buffy says, finally, trying to make her voice low and soothing, hating herself a little when it shakes in spite of her efforts. “I'm sorry that no one protected you when you were small and vulnerable. You deserved to have someone to take care of you and show you love and keep you safe.”

She can't help the way her own voice breaks at the end of the sentence, or the way she suddenly misses her own mother so fiercely it takes her breath away. 

Buffy clears her throat a little awkwardly and continues, “And I'm sorry it still hurts, even now. And that coming back here brought it all up for you again But I promise you — no one is ever going to hurt you like that ever again. You know why?”

“I'm a slayer,” Faith mutters, clenching her cold hands between them. “They couldn't.”

Buffy pauses a moment and pulls off her gloves, biting her lip at the sudden rush of cold against her bare skin. She reached out, carefully, cupping Faith's fists, uncurling them, cupping them between her own warm hands before raising them up between them. She leans down, breathes out hot air against the icy skin. Presses a soft kiss Faith's knuckles.

“That's true,” Buffy says quietly. “You're very strong. You're one of the strongest people I know, one of the best fighters. You've faced down demons and monsters and bad men, and you've beaten them all. You use your strength to help people. To protect people who are weaker than you, who need someone to help them. There's no way to make what happened to you here right, Faith, but that doesn't stop you from making the world better, in spite of the ways it failed you. And I'm so proud of you for that and I'm so glad you're here to do it. Because you're good.”

“I'm—” There's a wobble in Faith's voice and a fierceness in her expression that tells Buffy she wants to argue.

Buffy doesn't let her. “And the other reason no one could ever hurt you like that again is because I wouldn't let them. I won't ever let anyone treat you like that. Someone should have protected you when you were little, Faith, and they didn't and that's terrible. But I can. I will. And not just me, okay? Everyone. Willow and Giles and Dawn and Ange, even Xander.l And all those girls you've helped become real slayers.”

“Buffy,” Faith finally crumbles, lurching forward into Buffy's arms, breath spilling out in hot, wet staccato bursts against Buffy's neck.

“You'll never be hurt that way again because you'll never alone again like you were before,” Buffy promises into the shell of Faith's ear. “Never. I promise.”

Buffy feels Faith's hands clenching tight in the fabric of her coat, clinging to her with all the desperation and ferocity of a frightened child and thinks, not for the first time, that it's probably a good thing that Faith’s mom died before Buffy ever got a chance to meet her. She doesn't know what she would be capable of if she ever actually got to meet one of the people who'd wounded Faith so badly, so deeply, but she doesn't think it would be good.

“I'm— can you?” Faith sniffs, pulling back a little to catch Buffy's eye. “Can we go inside now? Not back there, but— I'm cold.”

“Sure,” Buffy says. She leans forward, presses a gentle kiss to the side of Faith's mouth. She means it just for comfort, a quick peck, and she's surprised when Faith immediately tilts her face, capturing Buffy's lips in another, deeper kiss. There's a desperation here that's familiar to Buffy, after so many years with Faith. An urgent, cavernous hunger, the yearning for reassurance, to feel wanted, to feel herself made precious in Buffy's touch. 

Buffy tries her best to sate that need, to pour all of her love, the seriousness of her promise I will protect you, I won't let you be hurt into the kiss. She slides one hand up to press into Faith's back, the space between her shoulder blades, to keep their bodies close. The other hand she cards through Faith's hair, nails light against her scalp, the way that always seems to calm her down. Buffy opens her mouth when she feels Faith’s tongue brush against her lips. She lets Faith in, swallows Faith’s answering whimper, thinking You can have anything you ask me for, I will never turn you away. Wishing she could somehow reach into Faith's heart, untangle all the painful, knotted emotions of her childhood hurts, contenting herself with this instead: loving her now, not letting her forget or doubt it.

“Love you,” Faith whispers, voice raw, when they break apart. “Sorry, I'm — Buffy, I really, really—”

“I know,” Buffy says, kissing her again, lingering, sweet. “I know. I love you too. Now let's go. Let me take you someplace warm.”

[paleparearchive]

Hidden Passion

Renoir's initial 4★ story (3/3) ( 1 - 2 - 3 )

Location: dormitory hallway (morning) ; Renoir, Monet, Sisley & Bazille's room | Characters: Renoir, Aoi/MC

Renoir: Why was I so serious… Do you want to know?

Aoi: Of course. You're working so hard. How can I not care?

Renoir: I see… Fufu, It's nice to know that you care. And I'd be more than happy if you could guess the answer. Would you like to reveal my innermost thoughts?

Aoi: (Why a quiz format…)

Hmm, let's see… to exhibit your work in an exhibition?

Renoir: Too bad, you're out of line.

Aoi: Ah, I got it! Because you were inspired by Manet-san, right?

Renoir: I certainly respect Manet-san, but… wrong.

Aoi: Uh, it's wrong? I was so confident…

(If Manet-san isn't the reason, what other reasons could there be?)

Hmmmmmm…

Renoir: Oh look, while you were wondering, we arrived at my room.

Aoi: (I can't believe that Renoir-kun, who is always so lazy, became so serious. I think there's a lot more to it…)

Renoir: Do you really not get it?

Aoi: … I give up. I can't think of anything at all.

Renoir: Fufu, then I'll give you a special hint. You see… I'm trying to be the guy you find attractive.

Aoi: Huh?

Renoir: There are a lot of guys around you. I might be one of them. However… I don't want to be one of many, I want to be the special one. So, I want to move your heart, even if just a little. I wanted to leave a mark on your heart… at least I thought so.

… So, what do you think of this me?

Aoi: What do I think, you say…

(Why is he suddenly saying these things? With such a serious expression on his face…)

(... Ah! I remember we were talking about it yesterday when we were having the tea party. I said my type is hardworking people. Does that mean he's hitting on me to suit my taste…?)

Renoir: I'm serious. I am thinking of you from the bottom of my heart. And I can't lie to my own heart. So… I want to hear how you feel, my lady.

Aoi: Ah… uhm, er… Your serious look is nice, but I think I like the usual loose Renoir-kun better.

Renoir: … Fufu, I see.

Sigh, if it were a normal girl, she would fall for that one… After all, you're not a simple person, my lady.

Aoi: Hahaha… is that so?

Renoir: Yes, I once again realized that it's precisely because you're that kind of young lady that you're so attractive. You're consistent, always looking forward, never giving up no matter what… you're full of charm, my lady.

Aoi: You're exaggerating. There are plenty of people more attractive than me.

Renoir: Fufu, you're not even aware of it. You didn't even flinch a little when I was that close to you… Maybe that's why I want to get a little more serious about it.

… Hey, my lady. I'll definitely steal your heart someday. You just have to be ready for that, okay?

Aoi: Oh god, Renoir-kun… Instead of stealing my heart, for now I'd like your paintings to steal the customers' hearts, okay?

Renoie: Haha, as expected from you, my lady. It seems that even I can't compete with art.

Sorry, I was just kidding before. But still… fufu, it's refreshing to see such a complete loss. I can't believe that you're not thrilled with me at all. But I still enjoy being with you.

Aoi: I also enjoy talking and being with you, Renoir-kun. By the way... Is it true what you said about the paintings you wanted to show me?

Renoir: Yes, that's not a lie. Ah, you said I was inspired by Manet-san earlier… well, you were actually right. The painting that Manet completed before was amazing. It really sparked my creative desire. It's been a long time since I've wanted to paint like that.

Aoi: Could it be, it's all the ones you put here? It's quite a lot…

Renoir: There are Sisley and the others' as well. It seems everyone was inspired by Manet's painting. I think the one who painted the most was Monet. "I'll show ya a picture like Manet-aniki's!"... He was pretty much on fire, you know.

Aoi: Fufu, I can imagine. Monet-kun adores Manet-san so much, doesn't he?

Renoir: Let's see, the one I painted was… here, this one. I'd be happy to hear your honest opinion, okay?

Aoi: Wow…! Such a beautiful picture. It's a lovely picture that really conveys your feelings.

Renoir: Fufu, thank you. Hearing that from you makes me feel more confident. If I get compliments from you, I might be able to become a little more serious about painting.

… So, keep an eye on me until then.

[x--ghost--x]

Drabble #2

Nicholas D. Wolfwood x gn!reader

Once in a while I have a dream that's not a nightmare or doesn't make any sense

And today I had a very nice dream (even if I felt so weird when I woke up)

It was to good to not share it

So here

━═━═━═━═━

The feeling of drifting and cloudy vision was enough proof to make you realize you're dreaming. But the softness of grass you were laying on gave you hope it was not just an image created by your brain, an illusion you wished to see. You opened your eyes (or were they open from the start?) and saw vibrant blue mixing with oranges, yellows and pinks, sun rays shining between soft clouds lazely stalking through the sky.

Is your mind really capable of creating something this beautiful?

Your pondering was stopped by the feeling of weight on your palm, weird warm sensation traveling from it. Your gaze shifted from the sky to your side as light breeze tickle your skin.

He was there.

Laying beside you, his hand holding yours, looking peaceful and relaxed, like there was nothing to worry about in this world.

And maybe there wasn't, here on the green hill, with setting or rising sun, you were not able to tell, where the only sound was caused by wind and the quiet breathing.

You took in all his features, examining him like a priceless painting, your eyes trailing on his tanned skin, admiring the shape of his nose, the dark hair falling on his closed eyes and how his lips twisted into content smile. You were surprised by the lack of cigarette in his mouth, a long blade of grass was put in it's place.

Yeah, you were definitely dreaming.

Raspy laugh snapped your out of this trans, making you notice that the man beside you now had his head turned to look at you.

Ah, he had really nice dark eyes.

"Like what you see?" he asked playfully.

Your only answer was a nod, too scared to speak up, like your voice could disturb this fantasy and everything would just disappear, making you come back to reality.

Apparently, he wasn't expecting you to seamlessly admit to your views on him, startling him enough to look away in embarrassment. Grip on your hand tightened.

Sighing, you lifted yourself into a sitting position and leaned on your non-occupied hand. The man send you a questioning gaze once your eyes met again. Motioning with your chin to your lap you send him a small smile, hoping he'll understand your silent suggestion. He looked away again but seconds later he dropped your hand, warm leaving you for a moment and coming back again when you felt his head on your thighs.

You lifted your hand lightly grazing your fingers through his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from it. You hesitated, fearing of losing this feeling in a second, but a pleased sigh coming from him erased those thoughts, even if only for a moment.

You continued caressing his skin, second hand coming to glide your fingers through his dark locks.

With a soft smile on your face you could feel your eyelids closing, the drifting feeling came back making you painfully aware of yours time here ending. As if he could sense it too, he took your hand that was previously resting in his cheek and placed it in his lips and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he smiled at you and spoke up in a soft voice.

"I'll wait."

Would he really? Was it even possible at that point to just wait here? Will you even be able to come back?

You hoped so. You hoped it wasn't a dream at all. You wished it was reality.

And maybe someday, somehow it could be.

━═━═━═━═━

I love the shape of Wolfwood's nose in the 98 anime (okay, it may sound kinda weird but- I can't really explain it, who knows that knows)

Also you can tell how single I am

It kinda has a potential to have a second part

[milo-my-beloved]

things we don't say

A continuation of the some other life 'verse.

Playlist 🎵 Buy me a cup of tea ☕

Chapter Two: The Crows

Jesper drums his fingers against his thigh.

He's not one to talk right now, but Inej doesn't look well. She moves slower than she used to, as if the weight of the world is drowning her. The break up must have hit her harder than he thought.

She is really not going to like his plan to rescue Wylan.

"Have you ever heard of Jan Van Eck?" he asks.

Inej shakes her head, zipping up her coat. "Should I know him?"

"He's a rich business owner who lives in one of those mansions in the Financial District. Unfortunately for us, he's also Wylan's dad."

She raises an eyebrow. "You want to break into a multi-millionaire's house? Jesper, his house will be crawling with security. We'll get caught."

"Have a little faith," he replies, but she's right. He drags a hand down his face. "We've got to try anyway. Wylan needs our help."

Inej's face softens at the mention of his fiance. There's a reason she always aces her religious studies and politics course; all Inej wants to do is to protect other people. She'll change the world someday, but today, he only needs her to change Wylan's.

"Where are we going?" she asks, half-jogging to keep up with Jesper.

He slows his pace. He forgets she has little legs. "My house. I've already convinced Nina and Matthias to help us out—"

"You're stealing my friends," she mutters.

"—And we bribed Wylan's tutor to pretend Wylan is with him for an hour, so Matthias is picking him up now."

He glances over at Inej, gauging her reaction. This is not the happy-go-lucky woman he spent time with last spring, and she's probably going to punch him when they turn the next corner.

He'll take it on the chin, though. Getting her to agree to the plan is the easy part. Getting her to stay is riskier.

Continue reading under the cut // Continue reading on AO3.

"How are we getting there?" she asks. "I have a 9am lecture tomorrow, so I don't want to be walking home at midnight because you..."

She trails off as they reach the front of the library, staring at the minivan with 'free candy' spray painted on the side. Folding her arms across her chest, she stops in her tracks and glares at Jesper.

"Seriously? Jes, I want to help you, but I can't..."

The break up may have happened months ago, but the pain in her eyes is fresh. He should have called her more often. He was so consumed with his own love life that he forgot to help his friends through theirs.

He expected anger, but Inej looks defeated. Neither of them would tell him what happened; Kaz shut him down with a sharp comment and his infamous glare, and Inej gave him a wishy-washy answer that didn't explain anything. But he can't say he's surprised. Kaz hates vulnerability more than anything else in the world, and Inej would never bad mouth anyone.

"I promise I'm not trying to set you up," Jesper says. "Kaz doesn't know you're here either. But you're both my friends, and I need all the help I can get."

She frowns, unconvinced. He doesn't blame her for being reluctant. No break up with Kaz Brekker would be pleasant.

"Please," he repeats. "We're on a deadline, so you'll only have to see him a few times. I need you, Inej. We do."

She sighs, shoving her hands in her coat pockets. She looks even smaller than usual in the near-darkness of the evening light.

"Fine. But he won't be happy about this either."

"When are either of you happy about the things I do?" he says, smiling. Then, quieter, "Thank you, 'Nej."

"I would say 'any time', but if you try this again, I'll get Zoya to kill you."

Jesper crosses his heart. "I promise to never make you free my kidnapped fiance with your ex-boyfriend ever again."

There's no humour in her laugh. "Let's get this over with, then."

They approach Kaz's van, and Jesper opens the passenger door and sticks his head through. "I brought an extra person," he says, forcing nonchalance into his voice. "Is there room in the back, or is that crate still there?"

"I dropped it off. Who?"

"Don't be mad at me..."

Kaz pinches the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand. "Really?"

Jesper shrugs. "We need all the help we can get. Please don't kill me."

"Fine." He glares at him, pointing at the back of the van. "But both of you sit in the back, or I might consider driving us off a bridge out of spite."

"Thank you!" Jesper slams the door shut and hurries to the back.

"He's alright with me coming?" asks Inej.

He chuckles nervously. "Yep. Totally."

Her eyebrows shoot into her hairline. "You're a terrible liar, Jes."

"I know."

He slides the door open, gesturing for her to climb in first because he's a gentleman, goddamnit. She hesitates briefly before straightening her posture and clambering in.

Jesper shuts the door behind him and pretends not to notice the tension in the air. On any other day, he'd be pestering the two of them to tell him what happened, but right now, all he can focus on is Wylan.

His stomach is rolling, and he can't tell whether it's because he hasn't eaten since breakfast, or because he hasn't seen his fiance in over a month.

Drunk Jesper may have been the one to propose, but it was Sober Jesper who spent hours comparing every (affordable) ring in the jewellers. It was Sober Jesper who trusted Kaz to keep the ring safe until the time was right. Maybe this is a whirlwind romance and they'll be divorced in a year, but even then, Wy doesn't deserve to live with his father's cruelty any more.

Kaz glances at Inej in the rearview mirror. "Where am I going?"

"My place," Jesper says. "I'll direct you."

Inej shrinks down in her seat, and they're off. They could have walked to his house, but he doesn't want to waste any of the precious hour he gets to spend with Wylan on something as boring as walking.

They pull up outside in a matter of minutes. Jesper leaps out of the van before Kaz can put the handbrake on.

He can see Wylan through the window of the living room. Nina and Matthias are pressed together on the red loveseat, but Wylan is alone on the armchair, his back to the driveway.

Jesper bursts through the front door, hoping Kaz and Inej don't kill each other while they're alone. He throws himself through the door to the living room, and stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees Wylan.

Even with his tangled hair and red-rimmed eyes, he's exactly how Jesper remembered him.

"Jes," he says, slowly rising to his feet.

Jesper crosses the last few feet of distance, barrelling into him and hugging him tightly.

"I missed you too," Wylan says. Jesper can feel his smile against his chest.

"Of course you did." He swallows back the tears clogging up his throat. He's Jesper Fahey, he's not about to cry in front of all his friends. "I'm fabulous."

Wylan laughs. It's a relieved, choked sound, but it's music to Jesper's ears.

"You didn't take your boots off," Matthias grumbles, but he doesn't stand up to do anything about it. There's a loud thud as Nina smacks him. "What? They're tracking mud in."

Jesper reluctantly breaks away from Wylan, but clings onto his hand just as tight as his hug. They don't have long, but if this all goes to plan, they'll be spending the rest of their lives together.

He plonks himself down on the armchair, tugging Wylan into his lap.

Inej and Kaz walk into the room together, refusing to meet each other's eyes. Nina's eyes darken; she must know too. Matthias and Wylan, however, are clueless.

"How are you two! I haven't seen you in ages!" Wylan says, beaming.

Inej and Kaz both realise they're going to have to share a couch at the same time, and they lower themselves onto opposite ends of the leather, leaving as much room between them as possible.

"I'm alright," says Inej, unconvincing. It's a bold-faced lie, but neither Matthias or Wylan seems to notice. Nina, on the other hand, looks ready to throttle Kaz. "Are you doing well, all things considered?"

Wylan shrugs. "I think Jesper is insane, but that's nothing new."

"Hey!"

"If it works, I'll feel much better, thank you."

"What is your plan, exactly?" Kaz asks.

Jesper rubs his forehead. "Well... I only really had the beginnings of one—"

"Seriously?"

Matthias shakes his head. "You're all doomed."

"What do you have so far, then?" asks Inej. Her tone is encouraging, but Jesper can tell she's nearing the end of her tether.

"I talked to the university, and they said that if Wylan wants to re-enrol, he has to do it by Monday."

"That's a deadline, not a plan," Kaz says.

Jesper huffs. "I'm getting there. Wylan tells me that Jan Van Eck happens to be hosting a party at his mansion on Friday. All we have to do is sneak Wylan out of the house, elope, and move him in with us before dear old daddy notices."

"Oh, is that it?" Nina says, faking a yawn. "Sounds like a piece of cake."

Kaz steeples his gloved fingers under his chin. "What kind of party?"

Jesper looks at Inej, raising an eyebrow as if to say, see, this is why I invited him.

"All his rich friends," Wylan says. "They make business deals and parade their wealth around for a few hours, and everyone goes home happy."

"Sounds insufferable," Nina says.

"How many guests?" asks Kaz.

Wylan shrugs. "Fifty? It's not a dinner party, because they take up the entire mansion, but it's not an open invitation either."

"Entertainment, then?"

"A band, sometimes. And usually some performers doing a scene from the Komedie Brute."

Kaz stares out of the window above Jesper and Wylan's head, his eyes unfocused.

"Scheming face," Jesper whispers.

"Definitely," Wylan replies.

Even Inej is smiling.

"We split up," Kaz says, after a while. "Half of us can escort Wylan to the courthouse, and half of us make sure Van Eck doesn't realise his precious son is missing."

"How do we do that?" Matthias asks. "None of us can pretend to be Wylan, and Van Eck will notice if five uninvited teenagers show up to his party."

"That's why we go in as the entertainment." Kaz looks around the room, assessing all of them. "Does anyone have any special skills that could pass as a performance?"

"Bowling?" Jesper offers.

"Matthias can speak to fish?" Nina says.

"I can play the flute?" Wylan suggests.

"No to all of those. How are you supposed to be the distraction for your own escape?"

Wylan flushes red and buries his face in Jesper's shoulder. "I don't know," he says, his voice muffled.

"Acrobatics," Inej says, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, Jesper thinks Kaz is going to ignore her. He acknowledges the new information with a slight tilt of his head. "Nina?"

"Other than baking and flirting?"

"Flirting isn't a skill," Matthias grumbles.

She winks at him. "It worked on you, didn't it?"

Kaz shakes his head. "Then Jesper, Nina, Matthias, you're rescuing Wylan. Inej and I can keep Van Eck distracted."

Inej stiffens, but she doesn't protest.

"I'm just glad I'm not in the middle of those two," Jesper whispers into Wylan's ear.

They're running out of time. Soon, Wylan will have to leave again. His tutor will pass a message along to him on Thursday, but if everything goes wrong, this could be the last time Jesper sees him.

How had he come to rely on another person so quickly? His entire life, Jesper has caused his own problems, and so far, he's solved them all without much help.

But, since the moment his drunken fist accidentally connected with Wylan's face, he's been dragged into his fiance's orbit, and he never wants to leave.

Kaz pushes himself to his feet with his cane. "I'll have to call in a few favours. Wylan, I'll need you to draw a map of the house. I'll get in touch with the rest of you when I need you."

He makes it all the way into the hallway before stopping.

"Inej, do you need a lift back to campus?" he asks, his back turned to her.

All eyes are on her as she considers it. Eventually, she says, "If you don't mind."

Jesper waggles his eyebrows at Nina. He wasn't lying when he said that this isn't a matchmaking scheme, but he's still going to take all the credit if it ends up fixing their relationship anyway.

Nina mimes stabbing him and Inej smiles, but shakes her head. Rising gracefully to her feet, she waves goodbye to them and follows Kaz to his van.

No one speaks until they've driven off.

"Christ, that was awkward," Nina exhales.

"Was it?" asks Wylan, frowning.

"They broke up," Jesper explains. "Fuck knows why. Neither of them will say."

"I'm going to hoover," Matthias declares. "Unlike you, I want my deposit back."

Nina follows him into the kitchen, muttering something about waffles.

"We've still got fifteen minutes," Wylan says, looking up at Jesper.

The streetlight outside glows yellow through the window, bracketing his ginger curls in an artificial halo.

"There's a lot of things we can do in fifteen minutes," Jesper says, grinning. They may not have much time, but you'd better believe he's going to make the most of it.

[whump-place]

tw died caretaker, monster whumpee, manipulation, brainwashing, fear of harm people again, whumpee scared of caretaker reaction

Whumpee couldn't do anything but look at the bloody mess that now painted every inch of Caretaker's house walls.

They... They didn't meant to.

They were doing just fine, it was a completely normal day. Caretaker was cooking while they set up the table, like any other day.

And...

And...

Whumpee covered their mouth with both their hands. They hadn't meant to! They had lost control, again.

The voice of Whumper sent chills down their spine, Whumpee didn't even hear their footsteps when they approached from behind.

"Oh, Whumpee... What have you done, dear?"

"It... It was an accident!" Whumpee's voice was muffled by their sobbing, they had felt on their knees next to the body of Caretaker, they were still breathing, but that was barely audible, even for Whumpee's senses "It was an accident, I don't know what happened, I... I...!"

"Shhhh..."

Whumper's hand pat Whumpee's head, stroking their hair softly.

"I know. I know, dear. But let's be honest here, you knew this would happen someday" before Whumpee could answer, Whumper talked again "Poor Caretaker... They didn't knew what kind of beast they brought home. It's a shame"

"Please... Please do something! They are bleeding, they-...!"

Whumper slapped them before they could say anything else. It was hard, and painful, but Whumpee just shut up and took it.

"Whumpee, let me tell you something that your dumb head might not understand yet. You did this. You tried to kill Caretaker. And even so you try to help them now?" Whumper tsked, shaking their head in disappointment "What could I expect of you?"

Whumpee didn't understand. They... They wanted to help! What did Whumper meant? Wasn't... Wasn't that the right thing to do?

"I see you still don't understand" Whumper sighed, their hand softly pulling Whumpee's hair and shoving their head to the floor, right next to Caretaker's blood "You did this. Do you really think that Caretaker needs your help? That they want your help? Don't be shameless"

Whumpee's mouth was watering, the scent of blood near them, fresh blood...

Whumper yanked their hair making them realize. They wanted Caretaker's blood in their mouth. They wanted Caretaker's blood in their mouth.

What had they done...?

"Oh, Whumpee. Why are you crying? We both know that you wanted this. You almost killed Caretaker, and even now while you cry and claim that you care for them, you are already savoring their blood? That's... That's monstrous, Whumpee. You are a monster"

The words hit Whumpee like a train.

A monster?

No...

No!

They were doing fine!

They did their best.

Caretaker told them...!

Caretaker was on the floor. Covered in blood, blood that Whumpee almost...

"Now you see what you are, Whumpee. No matter how hard you try to deny it, you hurt everyone around you" Whumper's voice was now clear as water. Every word made sense. Every word was nothing but true. They were a monster "Poor Caretaker, what will they think now? They... They'll hate you, Whumpee"

"But... But I'll apologize..."

Whumper's mouth opened and Whumpee knew what they were about to say.

"Do you really think that Caretaker would want to see you? Whumpee, you are a monster. No one is safe around you" the hands of Whumper touched Whumpee's mouth, sharp fangs that Caretaker had once called adorable.

"Just ike a kitty!"

"just like a monster"

"This is what you are"

"And the only safe place for you is with me"

"Now you understand, Whumpee?"

Whumpee nodded. Their head bowed down while Whumper called an ambulance for Caretaker.

'A wild animal'

That's what Whumper said when they asked what had happened.

And Whumpee... Whumpee couldn't help but nod when their turn to answer the questions came.

Just a wild animal

Whump Prompt 125

Write something inspired by this scene:

Monster whumpee transforms back into his human form and regains control of his mind, only to find the bloodied body of caretaker lying at his feet.

Overcome by horror and grief, whumpee falls to his knees.

"You see what you are, whumpee?" comes whumper's voice from behind him. "You're a monster. And the only safe place for you is with me."

[balanceater]

Ace Byra's In-Game Dialogue

*In the opening of his story* Why... I thought I did everything right... Why did she reject me?

*In his ending* Maybe I can fix it.

*He picks up the halves of the clay heart and runs to the art classroom. He opens the door and sees Carla Labiano but does not recognize her from the events of Wonderworld at first* That girl... She looks so familiar...

*Sees the paint he needs to fix his clay heart near Carla* There's the paint I need.

*He tries to walk forward but feels his heart begin to pound the same way it did for the girl who rejected him. He sighs* I'll just wait until she leaves.

*He begins to walk away but suddenly sees Balan right in front of him and gasps* You were real!

*Balan pats his shoulder and tells him to not be afraid. He calms down, turns back to the classroom, and decides to talk to Carla*

*In his secret ending* E-Excuse me...

*Carla looks up and locks eyes with Ace. She says his Stage Name and he suddenly realizes* Cheerleader?

*Carla nods her head* So it wasn't a dream after all...

*He looks at the paint he needs to fix his clay heart* I-I was wondering... Did you... Want to make some pottery with me?

*Carla accepts his request as she goes to the crate to find some fresh clay. Ace looks down at the two halves and puts them together. He then says to himself* Balan... Thanks for helping us. Hope you and Lance can fix yourselves as well someday...

*In the bad ending* I'll be broken... Forever... What's the point of fixing it...

*If the player chooses to play as him* I'll try my best.

*If he sees Leo/Emma wear his default outfit* You could almost pass as me!

*Upon having his outfit changed* I actually don't look that bad.

*If Negati appear in front of him* Yikes!

*To the Tims* My mom would love you guys too if she was here.

*Upon wearing his representative costume* Is this what having a confidence boost feels like?

*Upon being defeated* No...

*Collecting items* Maybe I could make something out of these.

*If the player goes near his illusion* Hello.

*If the player is near his illusion and Negati appear* Run!

*If the player gets lost* Do you need help? *Points in said direction*

*If the player puts on his Representative Costume* I like that one.

*After being saved* I'm... I'm alive? I thought I actually disappeared! Thank you!

*Suddenly embraces the player. After a moment of silence, he lets go and turns embarrassed* S-Sorry... I'm not that good with social cues.

*He sees Balan and screams which causes Balan to jump back a bit. Once Balan explains he is an ally Ace calms down and sighs* It's okay. It's just... I'm kind of scared of... clowns.

*Ace puts his hands in his pockets* That girl you saw... That was Silva Sommer. She's a classmate of mine that I had a huge crush on. I was afraid to confess to her at first. Then I thought, "Why not make a physical example of my love for her?" Then I made the clay heart you guys saw. I didn't have enough time to paint it, so I just decided to give it to her as it was. She ended up rejecting me because she thought I was "just as worthless as my dumb art". After I dropped it and it broke in half, I think the shock made me black out and I ended up becoming that... monster.

*If the player gives a positive response* You liked my stuff? For some reason, art was always something I was good at. I did stuff like finger-painting, knitting, and crocheting. But for some reason, pottery was what got me into what I love to do most. One time I made this orange and white terracotta dimpled vase for my mom. It was a Mother's Day present. She really loved it. Still has it on a shelf in her room.

*If the player gives a negative response* You're saying I should give up? Sorry, but I'm not my Dad.

*If the player gives a neutral response* You're saying I should try again? Maybe... I'll think about it, okay?

[juminly]

Ruminations of a Dreamer Part III (Viktor x F!Reader) "It all started by the riverbank, a place I used to play alone with the gadgets I would create. The sound of the streaming water, the shadows cast by the cliff on the other side, it was all too familiar. What was different, was the intoxicating smell of flowers. I searched around, but there was no sign of any flora." His voice evoked the same wonderment he must've felt in his dream. "It was as if I was standing right there and then. As if... I was a child again." He smiled to himself while reaching and grabbing his cane, standing up and walking towards where you had been seated by the window. "But, I was not a child. I was the Viktor I am today. I could hear the sounds of children playing and the same latent yearning I've always had to join them, yet, my inclinations resided elsewhere." He might not have noticed it but his hand tightened around his cane as he looked over the industrialist beauty of the city. "I was trying out a new gadget. A small boat with a water-fuelled motor. It worked and ahhh... the happiness it made me feel. Till it began rushing away from me, and my leg wouldn't allow me to catch." He sighed, reliving the helplessness that had been a good friend of the loneliness he was fated to. "Not until this luminescent bright blue aura appeared before me, slowly approaching me and... It's hard to explain but it touched me, held my hand and then, it enveloped my whole body. Like a shell yet it was a part of me. It's warmth spreading through me, a strength that I never knew propelling me forward. And believe it or not, I was running. I could... run." His disbelief was tangible in his bittersweet words. "My apologies." He chuckled, his index rubbing sheepishly on the tip of his nose, eyes averted away from you and back to the modern scenery offered by Piltover. "I'm a scientist, not a man of words. I hope my ability to convey some coherent sense through my rambling was not null." His eyes widened as he felt a softness, a warmth blanketing over his hand cradling the head of his cane, darting downwards only to see your hand on his. "Purple prose is lovely and all but it is the emotions evoked in one's words that count more." You squeezed his hand gently, unconsciously so, a surge of emotion erupting within you, apparent in your expression as your gesture urged him to look at you. Ambers finally meeting you, both of you exchanged a brief smile that felt oddly intimate. But it was too much. For both of you. "Ah, pardon me!" You exclaimed apologetically, removing your hand as quickly as you could manage. "It is absolutely f-fine, Miss. I am not bothered in the least." He reassured you. "Uhm..." You hesitated, it was now your turn to avert your eyes, looking down to the floor while your fingers twiddled together. Viktor noticed the way you nervously bit your lip, but he gave you an encouraging smile with a small nod. "I know that look, Miss. Tell me what's on your mind, please." "You know me well." You giggled lightly, a pink tint painting the top of your cheeks. "Your eyes said it all. I could tell how much happiness you felt in that dream... the peace you felt just talking about it." A peculiar connection, something akin to the tension caused by a magnetic force... It was hard to put into words, yet, it was reminiscent of the sensation he felt whenever he would be near those Hextech runes he had been toying with. Hextech. "Maybe someday, I'll find a way to allow people to read each other's minds, revisit or even display their dreams to themselves and others." The excitement in the smile you wore was a precursor to the uncanny erratic glee Viktor always contained so well the moment an epiphany of sorts struck him. Being the rational man that he was, he knew that enthusiasm and motivation played an essential part in his work yet setting aside those emotions was detrimental, as much as he possible could, in order to to do what's necessary to bring his creations to life. "I know that one day, you will." Your affirmation came out as a

certainty. An irrefutable fact that you somehow knew of and he had yet to discover. Placing your hand on his once again, you gave it a gentle squeeze as you stood up. "I must be on my way, Viktor. I've taken up enough of your time already." "Goodbye, Miss." Viktor was surprised at the sound of his own voice. It was... disappointed. "Until we meet again." As quickly the warmth came, it disappeared. He wondered... Why did the touch of your hand feel so familiar? –♥– Taglist: @theweebrises <3 Series Masterlist

[pretoriafics]

Runaway: A Teenage Dream alternative version

Hi! Well, I know a lot of you guys have been requesting me a part 2 of Teenage Dream (And it will come soon), but I simply had this idea. I was been addicted to daydreaming playlists on YouTube lately, and I found one who let me pretty inspired. All the links will be in the fic.

Notes: This is not Part 2 of Teenage Dream. It's just an alternative version, okay?

Derek just found a playlist on YouTube that shows him his soulmate from a faraway dimension: you. Now, he is determined to bring you to him. Word count: 1.712 Pairings: Different Dimension!Reader x Derek; Contain: It's pretty romantic, I guess; AU Soulmate Warnings: SONGFIC!!; English is not my main language <3; Inappropriate language Teenage Dream one-shot TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

It was a cold and rainy night. Stiles and Scott just came out of Derek's loft. It was complicated to deal with them sometimes, with all that teenage stubbornness and stupidity in supernatural stuff. Without mention of the troubles they caused to Derek. Come on, they made him a wanted criminal!

His life is reduced to run away from some kind of threat to keep his survival. Derek was an eternal runaway, and he was starting to get tired of this shit. He can't even remember what home is anymore or how it is to not fear for his own life. Peace was an unknown thing for him.

Derek approaches his laptop on the table - where Scott was before. The werewolf sat on the chair in front of it, ready to turn it off, but he sees something that catches his attention. YouTube was open and in the video suggestions was a video called "a playlist for your soulmate in a faraway reality".

Well... Daydreaming playlists wasn't his thing. However, he was curious and tired. If that playlist would make him calm his nerves and relax, he would listen to it.

Derek clicks on it, and the first song fills the room: Runaway, by Aurora.

I was listenin' to the ocean I saw a face in the sand But when I picked it up Then it vanished away from my hands, down

Tired, Derek stands up from the chair and lays down on the couch. He closes his eyes, just feeling the music and all the stress running away from his body. The music, the rain outside... Yeah, it was comfy. It was... good.

I had a dream I was seven Climbing my way in a tree I saw a piece of heaven Waiting, impatient, for me, down

There, with his closed eyes, he just could hear that song and the rain outside. Suddenly the rain stops, and the music is the only sound that fills the room. The last Hale opens his eyes and finds out different things at his loft: He can't see anything outside. Everything was dark there. His loft was dark too, with weak lights and several light particles floating around the room.

What the hell?

And I was running far away Would I run off the world someday? Nobody knows, nobody knows And I was dancing in the rain I felt alive and I can't complain

It was like his loft was moved to a different place. Even with all his knowledge about the supernatural, that kind of phenomenon was new to him. He never heard anything that could seem like that. Suddenly, Derek heard a female voice singing with the music.

But now take me home Take me home where I belong I can't take it anymore

A cloud of golden dust started to unite at a specific point of the room, and you start to taking form. You were distracted, sitting in a chair with a book in your hands and a laptop close to you. When Derek stares at your laptop, he sees the exact same playlist he was hearing. Sure! Certainly was something pretty weird with that playlist. It was showing him you, a girl he never saw before. You were translucid, almost shining gold. And you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

It was love at first sight.

I was painting a picture The picture was a painting of you And for a moment I thought you were here But then again, it wasn't true, down

You look up from the book with wide eyes, scared. Your eyes run to the playlist on your laptop. Well, you and Derek connected the dots on your minds before staring at each other again. Seems like the playlist in fact showed your soulmate from a different reality. A faraway one. You gave him a smile, and he gave it back to you.

"Can you hear me?" You said, looking at him.

"Yeah. Can you hear me?"

"Yeah!"

And all this time I have been lying Oh, lying in secret to myself I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf

Derek gave a step forward to you, memorizing each detail of you.

"What's your name?"

"(Y/N). Yours?"

"Derek."

Your eyes got widen again. Oh, holy crap.

"Hale?" You asked in urgency. He looks at you, surprised.

"Yeah. Do you know me?"

"You are one of my favorite fictional characters. You are literally part of my teenage."

Oh, wow. So, he was a fictional character in another reality! It was creepy and funny at the same time. Derek stares at the laptop of yours, looking at the title of that playlist.

A playlist for your soulmate in a far-away reality.

Hm. He stares at you.

"So..." Derek cross his arms in front of his chest, looking at you "Seems like the part of your teenage is your soulmate in a far-away reality. Do you think this is accurate? Because I think it is."

You felt your cheeks burning, and your stomach froze.

"I think it sounds right."

And I was running far away

Would I run off the world someday?

Nobody knows, nobody knows

And I was dancing in the rain

I felt alive and I can't complain

You gave him a smile, the most beautiful one he had ever seen. Wanting to feel your skin, Derek reaches out his hand on yours, trying to touch you. However, his fingers pass over on your skin. He can't touch you. Upset, he let out a long sigh.

"I think you're too far away."

You are upset as well. You always felt things when you looked at him on your TV, but you always thought it was just a crush that everyone has in some fictional characters. But now you know that, no, it wasn't just a silly crush on a fictional character. Deep in your subconscious, you knew he was destined for you.

"What can we do to solve this?"

"I don't know, but I'll find a way."

Derek looked at each book and talked to every witch he knew. He heard an ancient legend with one of them, that said that, sometimes, the universe opens a bridge to different dimensions. Many werewolves find out their soulmate this way. That playlist was a cosmic event, the universe trying to unite two lost souls.

Then, he finally found a book. An ancient and rare one.

He almost didn't sleep lately. Eager to stay with you, Derek couldn't help but translate each page until he finally could find a way to bring you to him. Sometimes, he was listening to that playlist on YouTube just to see you. You were almost melting in pure love just seeing how hard he was working to stay with you. Runaway by Aurora was filling the loft.

But now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go Now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go Now take me home Take me home where I belong I can't take it anymore But I kept running for a soft place to fall And I kept running for a soft place to fall

"Do you found out something?" You asked, looking at him with your eyes full of hope. Runaway by Aurora was filling the loft.

Derek denied, flustred.

"Nothing yet."

"Maybe It's impossible..."

He swallowed hard. Stubborn, he denied. He can't believe it was impossible. There's a way, and he was sure about it! It should have.

"No. It should have a way to bring you."

There, sat at his chair and translating that book, Derek was determined. He simply can't lose you, his peace point. He belongs to you.

And I was running far away Would I run off the world someday?

And then, Derek finally found it! Seems like a simple spell to him. All he needs to do is to pronounce the words with the bridge - which means the playlist - open. He looks at you with a shine of hope in his eyes.

"I think I found it."

Oh Gosh. You felt your stomach froze in anxiety.

"Are you sure?"

"It's my best bet." His green eyes stare at you. "Are you sure you want to stay here? With me?"

You gave him a gentle smile while holds your own hands, playing with your fingers.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm just tired of running from all the shit around here."

He gave you a smile as well. Derek knew that feeling. Hoping that the spell works, he stands up from his chair with the book in his hand. With the best Latin he knows, he pronounces the words of the spell, and you feel shivers all around your body. The sparkly dust seems to be sparkly and luminous than ever, and the darkness outside gives place to the view of the streets.

But now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go Now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go

Your body was losing the golden shine, and stepwise the natural tones of your skin were being revealed. Derek's loft was showing itself for you, and you felt your body starting to get warm again. And, done: You was now at his loft. Physically. His voice got silenced, and the only sound you could listen to was Aurora's voice on Runaway.

Derek couldn't believe you were really there, in front of him. Almost without air on his lungs, he put the book on the table and reaches his hand on yours. A large smile was born on his lips when he felt your skin. You felt your cheeks burning at his touch. Wow. You can't believe this!

He pulls you close to him by embracing your waist, and all you could do is smile. You rest one of your hands on his chest while the other one gives him a gentle caress on his face. Without contain himself anymore, Derek puts a soft kiss on your lips. And it felt so right.

It felt like the place where he belongs to.

[brightwaterforarainyday]

TBRTI and poem pieces please?? 🤩🤲

Hiiii!!! Thank you!! The Bodys' Return to Itself is another Deadfire Pillars fic, set on The Godhammer after one of the many times Berath yanks Elehal's soul out of his body to have a Little Chat. It's kind of about bodies and the shapes of them and a kind of about Aloth being a good but very concerned boyfriend and kind of about Elehal being very tired. Some day I'll figure out how I want to end it. I will.

Poem Pieces is what it sounds like! Its where I throw all the bits and, well, pieces that might be poems or parts of poems someday or that I just think sound neat.

((this is gonna be a longer one heads up lmao))

......

“...Hey.” Aloth sighed in relief, briefly lowering his head to rest on the arm held around his knees before looking back at him. “Are you alright? What happened?” Something between worry and frustration furrowed his brow. “I found you on the floor when I came in…”

That explained how he’d gotten into bed at least. Somewhat. Elehal rolled onto his side, facing Aloth. He would have a kink in his neck later today, maybe tomorrow. It couldn’t be helped. “I’m fine.” Close enough to the truth. He’d get used to this, someday. “Really. Did you...?” He gestured loosely at the bed they were currently in.

A familiar half-smile crossed Aloth’s face. “Edér helped, a bit. You’re... heavy. What happened?” “The gods wanted a chat. Or an audience for their bickering.” He tried to shrug, managed about half of one with the shoulder he wasn’t laying on. You will mind upon whose ground you tread. My patience is not infinite, and your soul is but one breath in a hurricane that I control. He was going to have a real problem, at some point, if he kept pushing the gods this hard. Something he could deal with later. Aloth didn’t need yet another reason to worry about him.

“And... this is their idea of a polite invitation?”

“They have the decency to do it in private, at least. I really can’t be fainting in public any more than I do already.”

Aloth’s expression suggested he remained unconvinced that this was a courtesy. Little light came through the cabin’s windows. It was evening, or overcast. Elehal tried to remember if there had been clouds in the sky, earlier. There were lanterns though, two of them - no need to be frugal with lamp oil now. Their twin flames cast warm, golden light across Aloth’s face, left subtle, shimmering reflections in his hair. Elehal thought of portraits he had seen once, on a brief shore leave in the Vallian Republics. Perfectly, painstakingly rendered figures that seemed to glow from within, more beautiful even than they must have been in life.

Aloth sighed again, a tired sound, this time, a sound of resignation. He unwrapped his arm from around his knees and moved to lay down between Elehal and the cabin wall, also on his side, their faces turned towards each other, Elehal could stare into his eyes, see the glowing embers of his own reflected there. The bed hadn’t been built to accommodate two people, but Aloth was an elf, and slight of build. (And beautiful, like a man in a painting, shaped more perfectly by the artist's brush than flesh and bone should ever have been able to aspire to...)

-----------------------------------------------------

Everything turns and everything grows to be alive is to be in a state of flux any story can tell you that. We are not stationary objects a human being is not a noun it is a verb

The smoke clears and something within me Is stirring Something is waking up something in my soul stretches and remembers What it means to be awake and alive Staring through sun-silvered leaves at the wide, wild sky

[chatonne-rousse]

Turtle-y Awesome

@sketchy-panda sent me the following ask last week:

...and this is the story that sprang from that ask. You never know what you're going to get when you share a headcanon with me! 😉

Read it on Ao3 here.

"...et puit, quand il fut bien certain que personne ne pouvait le voir, Benjamin alluma sa veilleuse."

Adrien turns the last worn page and sets the book beside his knee on Hugo's bed.

"What do you think, kitten? Benjamin was turtle-y being a scaredy-cat, wasn't he?"

Hugo giggles, eyes bright. "He's not a cat, Papa, he's a turtle!"

Adrien nods sagely at his son. "Right you are," he says, patting the book's cover. "If this book tortoise anything, it's that Benjamin is definitely a turtle."

The number of turtle puns in the world is finite, and Hugo has heard his dad tell them all repeatedly, but he still laughs every time. The sound is music to Adrien's ears. He grins as he leans down to tuck the duvet around Hugo's shoulders and lifts his son's dark fringe to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Can we read another story, Papa? I'm not even tired."

Hugo's big green eyes scrunch shut as he yawns widely.

"Mmhmm. I can tell. You know what?" Adrien grabs another stuffed turtle from the bookcase and tucks it in beside the Carapace plushie already cradled in Hugo's arms. "Monsieur Vert looks very tired. He was almost sleeping over there! Maybe if you hold him really, really gently, that will help him fall asleep. I'm sure Carapace is tuckered out after a long day of superheroing, too."

"He is," Hugo says, nodding. He strokes his little hand up and over Monsieur Vert's soft shell. "I'll help them, Papa."

Adrien smiles even as his chest squeezes with emotion. "I know you will, my kind-hearted kitten." He can't resist pressing another kiss to Hugo's forehead and delights in receiving a loud, smacking kiss to his own cheek in return.

The turtle lamp on the nightstand is switched off and the Carapace nightlight beside the bookshelf activates, dim light glowing green through the plastic.

"Bonne nuit, ma petite tortue."

He watches his son cuddle his turtle and Carapace close as the closing door slowly eclipses the bed in shadow from the hallway light. Leaving the door open a crack, Adrien listens for a moment as Hugo gets comfortable in his bed.

He smiles as he pads down the hall toward Emma's room to join his wife for another round of goodnight kisses for their precious kittens.

*****

"Kitty, this is getting ridiculous. How is that the only thing he wants for his birthday?" Marinette shakes her head, but her grin betrays her lack of any real annoyance.

Adrien rubs his face and groans. "I know. Believe me, I know. Can you imagine if Nino knew?"

That surprises her. "You haven't told him? I told Alya ages ago when he said Carapace was his favorite." She thinks for a moment. "I don't think I've shared the, um...depth of the obsession, though."

He stares at her, deadpan, before they both laugh.

"Turtles I could handle, Mari. They're cute. They're green." He bats his eyes at her and she swats his arm playfully. "But Carapace? Carapace? When Chat Noir is right there? I don't get it."

"Awww, Chaton. Is my kitty jealous?"

"Of course not," he says, pouting, though he can't keep up the ruse and his smile breaks through. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Nino made a wonderful hero, and is the perfect holder for Wayzz, and you know it."

She scooches closer to him on the sofa and rubs his back gently. His eyes close for just a moment before opening them to find his wife gazing at him with what might just be his favorite look in her eyes - a teasing glint, a touch of heat, and an endless well of love. Everything goes fuzzy momentarily, but he catches her next words clearly.

"Besides, my favorite hero will always be Chat Noir. Always."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

She nods.

Her eyes go wide when he hauls her petite frame from the sofa beside him and settles her across his lap. She laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his lips.

"What a coincidence, My Lady," he murmurs into the whisper of space between them, "because my favorite hero--" He pauses, kissing her again, "is also Chat Noir."

There's a beat of silence and then she's laughing, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her giggles. His arms tighten around her shaking shoulders as he laughs along with her, swept away by the sweet sound he will always love. There's no joy in the world quite like making his wife laugh.

"You know I'm kidding, Bug," he finally whispers into her hair when their laughter subsides. "Emma and I share a favorite hero. The greatest of all. Prettiest, too. Oh, wow, is she ever beautiful. And strong. And smart."

"Rena Rouge?" Marinette asks cheekily, her nose still pressed to his neck.

"Nooooo," he croons, tickling her sides until she laughs again. "It's Ladybug, jumping above, Lady magique et lady chance!"

"Kitty, no!" she begs through her giggles, "Don't get that in my head!"

"Too late!"

He silences the last of her laughter when he captures her lips with his, twin sighs mingling in the late-night quiet of the living room.

With forever in his arms and their shared future asleep down the hall, Adrien simply loses himself in this blissful moment, forgetting that their baby will turn five next weekend, that the passage of time is as inevitable as the dichotomy of creation and destruction. Wrapped up in his wife, time seems to stop altogether. Marinette - her love, her care, their unshakeable bond - is eternal.

But of course, the clock still ticks. And when they part a few minutes later, after one last kiss and a nuzzle of her nose against his, he still has to ask.

"So we're really throwing Hugo a Carapace-themed birthday party?"

She nods. "Yep."

"And we're buying him the new Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker, complete with Carapace action figure, power-ups, costume changes, a Turtle-mobile sports car that Nino never had, and four different colored shields that he also never had?"

"There's a jet, too, for some reason. But...yep."

Adrien nods slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "He's going to love it."

"Oh, he is," she affirms, her grin matching her husband's. "And so is Uncle Nino."

He snorts a laugh and pulls her close once more, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"This'll be hilarious."

Marinette smiles against his shoulder.

"Yep."

*****

Everything is green.

Their normally colorful apartment seems to have transformed into an emerald dreamscape that doubles as a turtle sanctuary.

Everything is green, and there are turtles everywhere.

Sea turtles, tortoises, turtles of all kinds - including a certain turtle-themed superhero - adorn every surface. Adrien had been surprised by the amount of Carapace party merchandise he was able to find online. He's used to the numerous Carapace items in Hugo's bedroom, pieces he's added to his collection one by one over the past year or so. But this, his best friend's face dangling from streamers, emblazoned on little party hats, is just a little weird.

He's proud, though. A little jealous, a lot amused, and very, very proud. No desperately sad, pitifully lonely teenage boy has ever found a better friend than Nino Lahiffe. He's the brother of his heart, the mellow to his anxious, the staunch protector of their little group of best friends and hero teammates. Adrien has to admit that Hugo has great taste in favorite superheroes.

Someday he'll discover that his idol is also his Uncle Nino, but today is not that day. Today, the magic and wonder still shines in his son's eyes, and it's a beautiful thing.

Adrien putters around the kitchen making last-minute preparations to the food and drink selection, making sure there are plenty of cups and plates (all printed with a Carapace action scene, of course) stacked on the island. Oddly, he couldn't find Carapace napkins to go along with the other paper goods, but Marinette had saved the day by snagging a pack of sea turtle patterned napkins that coordinated perfectly in a pinch.

He smiles at the thought of his resourceful bug, his grin widening as he hears her welcome guests at the door. This is followed by a squeal of glee when Hugo and two of his classmates run off to his bedroom to play. Adrien shakes his head, still smiling. He'll have to lure them out in a bit with snacks and the promise of gifts and cake.

It's not like he doesn't already know from several years of experience that children's birthday parties are mostly adults mingling and intermittently making sure the kids don't get into too much mischief as they play together.

He takes the spinach quiche from the oven where it was warming up and sets it on the table with the other food, rebelliously placing a black potholder with a neon green pawprint pattern under the hot ceramic dish.

A towering, tiered tray of green macarons has pride of place on the dining room table, the top half of each cookie painted to look like a turtle's shell in edible glittering gold. They look almost too pretty to eat, and the same goes for the expertly-decorated turtle cake nearby, made by Hugo's grandparents and brought straight from the bakery for his big day.

The vegetable plate is an array of green, from broccoli to peppers to celery. The party has barely begun, but the celery is already running low, thanks to Emma's clandestine snacking in the hours beforehand.

Everything is green, and Hugo loves it. And that's what it's all about, really.

*****

Adrien is on his way back from checking in on the now half dozen kids playing in Hugo's room when he hears Alya's laughter from the entryway. Clearly she's spotted the party decor. He rounds the corner to find Marinette hugging her best friend, Alya's pregnant belly only getting in the way a bit and not stopping her from throwing her arms around Marinette's shoulders.

"Sorry we're late, Mari," she says, then pitches her voice to a stage whisper. "I had to pee. Twice." She leans back from the hug and cradles her bump. "Actually, I'm just going to..." She points down the hall, and Marinette laughs.

"Go for it, Als. We've all been there."

Nino is still crouched by the door, helping his daughter out of her jacket and shoes. He just shakes his head and laughs. She races off to find her "cousins" and Nino stands, kissing Marinette on each cheek and wrapping Adrien in a hug.

Surveying the apartment over Adrien's shoulder, he claps him on the back and says, "I love what you've done with the place. Very inspired design choice."

Adrien rolls his eyes and all three of them laugh.

"Hugo is obsessed with turtles. You have no idea."

"Oh, I think he has some idea, Minou." Marinette smiles at her husband over her shoulder, linking arms with Alya when she joins them again and ushering her into the green-bedecked living room.

He glances sidelong at Nino with a sheepish grin. "This isn't too weird for you, is it? It was all Hugo's idea. He hasn't stopped talking about his 'Carapace Turtle Party' for weeks," Adrien says, air quotes included.

"Nah, mec, it's cool. Kind of flattering." Nino raises an eyebrow and laughs. "What do you think he'll say when you tell him someday?"

Adrien just shakes his head. "Probably ask if you can adopt him and be his dad instead." His smile is teasing but just a touch rueful.

Nino laughs again. "No way, man. Number one, I've already got enough kids. Number two, you're the best dad. They love you like crazy, bro. Seriously."

His chest fills with warmth. Nino is such an incredible friend. And he's right (about the last bit, at least).

"They're incredible, Nino. Being a dad is..." He trails off, unable to find the words.

"I know, dude." He claps Adrien on the shoulder. "They're a pain in the ass, but they make up for it by being totally awesome."

Nino glances around, finally spotting the table full of green food and turtle-themed treats.

"Wait. Bro. Is that a turtle cake?"

*****

"You know," Nino says a few minutes later, washing down a matcha macaron with a swig of turtle punch, "I could get used to this. It would mess with my head, but after a while--" he looks at the cup with his face on it and shrugs, "it's not so strange. Better than having my face plastered on a billboard outside the Galeries Lafayette."

Adrien groans. "Et tu, Brute? Why would you remind me of that?"

"Because I can." Nino takes another bite of macaron and nudges his best friend's shoulder, laughing.

*****

As the kids snack and carry on, Adrien finally decides it's time to let his best friend see the Carapace shrine that is his son's bedroom.

Nino takes in Hugo's completely green, turtle-filled bedroom as Adrien waits with bated breath beside him for his reaction.

It is, as usual, relatively chill.

"Little dude has good taste!"

"Indeed." Wayzz peeks from Nino's collar with a pleased smile on his face. "The turtle has always symbolized wisdom, strength, and longevity." His tiny smile widens. "I'm also partial to the color green."

Nino steps farther into Hugo's room to examine the bookcase. "I...did not know they made this much Carapace merch."

"Believe me, there's more. We have to draw the line somewhere." Adrien closes his eyes and sighs. "Although he does brush his teeth with a Carapace toothbrush."

Nino's laugh starts as a snort and builds when he spots the Carapace wastebasket beside Hugo's bed and the Carapace plushie propped against his pillow. It turns positively raucous when he sees his best friend's face.

"Holy crap, dude," he wheezes. "This is hilarious. You must be so jealous."

"I am not!"

"You totally are."

"Well--" Adrien sputters, "Marinette is, too!"

"Not as much as you are, Kitty!" she calls from the living room.

Adrien throws his hands in the air. Nino doubles over.

"Chat Noir is cool, too," he mutters, petulant.

A still-laughing Nino pats his arm consolingly. "If it makes you feel any better, Chat Noir is my favorite hero...after Rena Rouge."

That actually does make him feel better, but he's not telling Nino that. Instead, he just grins a sly half-smile at his best friend. "Good save, man."

"Hey, I know which side my bread is buttered on, mec. Don't act like you don't."

Adrien is helpless to the smile that spreads across his face.

Nino groans. "You've been married for seven years, dude. Are you ever not going to go all gooey just thinking about Marinette?"

Adrien quirks an eyebrow and glances sidelong at him. Nino nods once and pats Adrien's shoulder.

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it?"

"Yep," Marinette says from the hallway behind them.

Adrien's heart beats faster at the twinkle in her eye. He wonders how much she heard. Probably all of it - she always did have sonic hearing, but motherhood seemed to ramp it up to eleven. Not much escapes his wife.

"Time for cake and presents," she announces. "Nino, you can revel in Hugo's Carapace shrine later."

"And I will, don't you worry," Nino says with a laugh as he turns to head back to the party.

Adrien throws an arm over his best friend's shoulder and smiles brightly at Marinette.

Hugo has merch, but Adrien has a real, live Ladybug who promised eternity to her Chat Noir. He holds his own favorite superhero in his arms every night, and nothing, nothing compares to that.

*****

Surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, the birthday boy sits on the floor with one last gift in front of him. The box is taller than he is when seated, and he has to stand up on his knees to tear the paper off the top. As soon as he can see what's inside, he shouts with glee and jumps to his feet. Overjoyed, he scampers around the coffee table to his parents, first thanking Marinette with a hug and kiss, then getting swept up in Adrien's arms for a bear hug.

The fact that Hugo doesn't push away from him to return to his barely-unwrapped gift is not lost on him, nor is the fact that he abandoned it and thought to thank them first in his excitement.

Sometimes Adrien feels like he's been given so much more than he deserves. Marinette alone is a blessing beyond his imagination, but Emma and Hugo, too? It's too much and he knows it, so he holds them close and relishes every single moment like this one with his little boy hugging him tight and murmuring thanks into his neck.

A few minutes later finds Hugo examining every detail of his new treasure (after Adrien wrangled all the parts out of their plastic-encased prison).

He claps his hands when he sees that this set comes with a bonus Chat Noir action figure in addition to Carapace and his shields of many colors.

"Maman!" he cries, jubilant, holding Chat Noir above his head so she can see. "Look! It has Chat Noir! You love Chat Noir!"

Blushing, Marinette pointedly avoids looking in the direction of the two moms of Hugo's school friends who've stayed for the party but smiles widely at her son. "I do. He's my favorite superhero of all time."

Hugo nods, turning to his dad where he sits beside him on the floor, struggling to snip the tiny plastic anchors holding each piece to the cardboard backing.

"See, Papa? He's Carapace's sidekick."

"Hey!" Adrien says indignantly. He looks up from the mess of cardboard and plastic in his lap as Marinette, Alya, and Nino laugh.

Nino, best bro that he is, chimes in. "Nah, little man, Chat Noir is no one's sidekick. He's way too brave and cool for that." He grins at Hugo and points first to the Carapace action figure on the coffee table and then to Chat Noir in his hand. "They're a team. Best friends and superheroes at the same time. That's why they're so awesome."

Hugo looks at the Chat Noir figure for a long moment. "Wow," he breathes. "Chat Noir is as cool as Carapace." He says it like a revelation that's rocked his entire worldview.

Alya sniffles and Marinette hands her a tissue.

"Okay, but Ladybug is still the coolest," Emma pipes up from Hugo's other side.

All the adults besides Marinette nod. Adrien reaches around Hugo to pat Emma's back.

"You're absolutely correct, kitten."

Marinette blushes again and Alya blows her nose.

Hugo tucks Carapace into the driver's seat of the Turtle-mobile with Chat Noir beside him as his passenger, racing the sports car across the rug toward his friends so they can play with his new toys, too.

Adrien looks from his son to his own best friend, and Nino gives him a thumbs up and a grin.

*****

Later, when the dishes are washed and their living room looks slightly less like a turtle habitat, Adrien sits on the sofa with a cup of tea and watches Hugo play with his new, treasured birthday gifts. The Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker is open, its many accessories strewn around Hugo where he sits cross-legged, Carapace in his left hand and Chat Noir in his right.

"I'll protect you!" "Carapace" cries, Hugo's voice pitched to sound brave and true but still carrying his sweet child's tone.

"Thank you for keeping My Lady safe, Carapace!"

Adrien snorts a surprised laugh into his tea. "Chat Noir" speaks in a husky growl, though Hugo gives him a note of cheery confidence, as though he truly appreciates Carapace's brave deeds, as though Chat Noir can take the decisive cataclysmic swing knowing his beloved partner is safe from harm.

And honestly, Hugo has the right of it. Adrien wonders how his son could possibly know that this exact scene - with slightly different dialogue, of course - played out many times over, years before he was born.

Hugo mimics the sound of an explosion, then an "oof!" as Chat Noir falls to his back but springs up again quickly. Just as Carapace returns to Chat's side with a confident, "What can I do to help save the day, Chat Noir?", Marinette's hands snake around Adrien's shoulders from behind, surprising him.

He sets his mug on a coaster on the end table and wraps his hands around her forearms, pulling her in closer. Leaned over the back of the sofa, she nuzzles his cheek with hers before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I think we pulled off the dream turtle party pretty well, don't you, Chaton?"

"Oh, we turtle-y did."

Adrien delights in the huff of laughter she exhales against his cheek. That might be the most overused pun in the house, but sometimes it still lands just right. They watch Hugo play, matching grins making their cheeks press closer together.

"Looks like that was one shell of a gift, eh?"

He swoons dramatically, his head falling to the back cushion of the sofa so he looks at Marinette upside-down. "My Lady, you know what it does to me when you pun."

"Oh, I do," she says, completely unapologetic, and boops his nose.

He just has to lean up to kiss her because, well, she's so beautiful and he loves her so much and she's right there.

They break apart a moment later when they hear Emma call for Marinette from her bedroom. She plants one last upside-down kiss on his forehead and lets her hands drift slowly across his chest and shoulders as she stands.

She gives him a wry smile. "Duty calls."

"Hmmm," he hums thoughtfully, picking up his tea and taking another sip. "And here I thought her name was Emma."

Marinette groans at him as she walks away, and the sound catches Hugo's attention.

"Papa? Will you play superheroes with me?"

Of course. Always. I will never, ever be too busy for my kittens, he thinks.

"Sure, buddy," he says instead.

Finishing his tea in one big gulp, he slides from the sofa and scampers on hands and knees like a giant cat to where his son is playing. Hugo giggles at his dad's ridiculousness.

Adrien takes stock of the many accessories scattered around the play set and asks, "What are Chat Noir and Carapace up to today?"

Hugo explains the situation, the bad guy's motives, and what the heroes need to do to save Paris from disaster. Adrien listens carefully. Looking up at him with green eyes that match his own, big and wide and crinkled at the corners with his happy smile, Hugo offers the Chat Noir action figure to his dad.

"Will you be Chat Noir, Papa? He's Carapace's best friend in the world and they need to work together to save the day."

Adrien cradles the action figure in one hand and gently pats the pocket where Plagg hides with the other. His kwami presses a paw against his chest in return. Overwhelmed, all he can do is grin at Hugo and try not to cry.

"It would be my greatest honor," he vows grandly, holding up a hand in oath. "I purr-omise to be the best hero I can be. Cat's honor."

Hugo laughs. "You said honor twice."

"So I did. That's because it's very important."

His son nods solemnly, then reaches for Carapace's super jet. He places the hero in the cockpit and flies the jet around his head, making zooming noises.

"Are you ready, Chat Noir? I'm coming to pick you up!"

The jet has only one seat, but that doesn't seem to bother Hugo. Adrien readies the tiny plastic baton in Chat Noir's hand and uses it to vault from his own knee into the imaginary sky over Paris.

"Meow-velous!" he crows, delighted. "This cat is ready to be whiskered away in your very realistic jet! Allons-y, my turtle friend!"

Hugo giggles, Adrien's heart melts, and they set off on a grand adventure together.

[tropicpdf]

pictures of you / lucifer & mars

600 words / rated g / toyhou.se version

Lucifer's D.D.D. was a precious item that he didn't dare let out of his sight, lest one of his brothers find it and somehow crack the password. It wasn't a very difficult password, being the birthday of a beloved friend, and Mars had figured that out quite easily. Because of that, and because of Mars' often close proximity to the man and his phone, they could do whatever they wanted with the device.

The first time they changed his wallpaper, it was a photo of a rabbit. Simple, and very much like Mars, they decided with a nod before setting the phone down again. When Lucifer came back into his office and sat down, he eyed the other. Mars merely smiled, leaning back against the armchair. His intuition was one of his best attributes, so of course, he immediately knew something had changed. He picked up his phone then, and sighed upon seeing the change in wallpaper. "You don't think it's cute?" Mars asked, looking at him.

"I don't really care, to be honest. I'll just change it back if I want to."

Mars huffed and crossed their arms over their chest.

Then, Mars decided they would keep changing Lucifer's wallpaper until the man found one he enjoyed enough to keep. Stupid photos found on the internet, cute animals, nice scenic views. Every time, though, Mars would find the phone clad with the original wallpaper again. Even pictures of Lucifer's brothers were promptly changed. The human rattled their head in an attempt to formulate some sort of clever idea, but decided it was best to just keep going on and not put that much effort into it.

That night, as Lucifer changed into clothes to sleep, Mars grabbed his phone off the nightstand with a mischievous grin. They pressed the home button and the screen lit up, and while that grin lowered just a bit, their cheeks heated up. 

He always changed it back to the same picture: a gorgeous painting of a peacock showcasing its feathers. But, this time, it was a picture of the two of them.

It was from a date just about a month ago, when a new exhibit had opened up at a museum in the Devildom. Mars had plenty of photos on their phone from the day, a lot of them being candids of Lucifer taking in the art. It was rare for Lucifer to be taking photos when they spent time together, but that day, he actually opted for one himself. With a large arched window showcasing the stellar rose garden outside of the museum as a backdrop, he had taken a picture of the both of them. Mars always smiled so wide in photos, and even Lucifer wore upturned lips.

It was sweet, to say the least.

Mars never expected Lucifer to be the sentimental type.

"Are you going to change that one?" Lucifer asked. Mars looked up to find him settling in bed next to them, pulling up the covers to cover them both.

Mars shook their head and cradled the phone in their hands, admiring the picture even as Lucifer turned off the lights.

"That day was really fun," they said absentmindedly. "The garden there… Reminds me a lot of a museum back home."

"Then I suppose we'll have to take a picture there too someday," Lucifer murmured.

"This almost makes me feel bad. My wallpaper's an anime girl."

Lucifer chuckled and gently kissed their forehead. "I see where your priorities lie."

Mars smacked his chest but smiled all the same.

[containatrocity]

"I knew exactly what kind of critter you were talkin' about, darlin'." Duck shoots back. "Everything can be killed, everything eventually returns to the ground below- and that includes the ghosts. The key, at the end of the day, is finding what puts them there. It ain't bullets, arrows, or hell, even fire an' explosives- because I've tried all of 'em, at least once. But everything meets the reaper one day, even these things. I know it." He's not found the solution yet- but he knows he can, just needs time. Nobody'll die at the savage hands of those things ever again, once he figures it out. Nobody'll lose their brothers, mothers, wives and friends to cruel, twisted fingertips someday, and he's just stubborn enough to live to see it. "Lucky for all of us, I know what kills a possum, at the very least."

He shrugs off his backpack, sitting it down by his feet and unzipping it, kneeling down to dig through it. He doesn't seem to care that he's being appraised- and the sideways grin on his face indicates he's probably used to it, producing a circular saw and a battery, snapping it into place smoothly and testing it just once, the saw whirring to life as he hums. "Yanno, sometimes, I love this job." He observes, moving over to the wall proper to start the process of cutting it open- clearly not too bothered with the idea of safety gear, only the aviator sunglasses tucked into his hair resembling eye protection. "Had a newcomer roll through a few weeks trade me a bottle of Jack Daniels and his crossbow for a week's worth a' food. One of them city-folk yuppies who thinks he's gonna be some kinda outdoorsman with a handle and a stationary target- I even offered t' teach him to hunt, but I mentioned breakin' down a kill and he turned green in the gills. Told 'im I could teach him to fish, there's lakes an' rivers in the forest, but it was the same lament as always 'oh I can't go out there, what if those things find me?' like it ain't stupidity that means yer out there past dusk anyway?"

He listens to her sort through what they have on hand- laughing when she insists one of the jars might be straight cleaning fluid. "Might be ol' Rusty's contribution then, his 'shine'll strip the paint off a car and the rust off a hubcap, but two shots'll have ya fucked up proper. Ain't too bad if there's fruit in it, but my family's one a' the few that still has a little orchard goin' and we're scant until spring so Rus is making it with... hell, I just assume it's corn and his hatred fer God."

He stops, sitting the saw aside and sticking rough hewn fingers into the newly made gaps, pulling the wooden panel away- to a very unhappy looking possum, backed into a corner of the insulation. For a moment, the harsh, resting scowl on his features softens, and that 'predator against prey' bravado fades. "I know, mama, lets get ya loose, alright?" He sighs, hands reaching in to lift a slipped chunk of wood- the creature's tail pinned, unable to get free, it seems. It's a split second before he has it by the scruff of the neck, shaking his head. "Now don't ya worry, I'll get th' little'uns too, no use sendin' you home without yer family, huh?" He moves to stand, stepping outside in a rush and returning with a cage, the agitated critter tucked inside. "Looks like she was just tryin' to get in from the cold, and part of the wall dropped on her. wasn't tryin' to drive ya to insanity."

There's a soft laugh at the idea of that, really. "We don't become those things." He informs, reaching into the wall carefully to start plucking out what the possum had been trying to keep safe- a handful of babies. "They copy us. Not perfectly, but they look like us. Some of us that ain't even here, some of us that ain't even dead. My partner at the station's husband died some six years ago. Walks outta the woods with my uncles an' aunties, my brothers I know are alive an kickin' every single night. They aren't us, not really. We don't become them- but if you know somethin' I don't, darlin, I'm all ears."

He closes the cage and settles in to fix the wall. "You know I don't typically turn down a compliment, but I don't rightly think I should be gettin' eyed up by a married woman, Mrs. Courtier." Oh, he clearly noticed.

"yeah honey...that's not the kind of 'critters' i meant." it had been sarcasm about those white walker wannabes out in the woods but amara would let it drop, figuring it wasn't worth her time to explain. he seemed somehow so very interested in slaughtering fuzzy bunnies and skinning squirrels and who was amara to take away from what this guy clearly thought was a good time? a sigh erupted from her lips that bore every ounce of impatience she had by nature as she moved out of his way. watching him move towards the wall, gaze narrowing and taking a very gratuitous look to see if his backside was on par with the front and she was slightly amused to see that it was, in fact, just a little bit better. checking him out with an unabashed roll of her gaze, her attention returned to his task at hand when he spoke. a light laugh left her. "please, when's the last time you've even seen a bottle of REAL whiskey in this shithole?" her smirk dabbled in the amused category as she heaved a sigh and wandered back behind the bar, rummaging to see what she could conjure up in reality as payment. gods the barter system could be a real bitch and a half these days. "well, manhattan born and raised --- what do you think?" peeking up from her crouched position behind the bar as she raised a brow, giving him a pointed look before she hauled up a crate filled with whatever the fuck was in stock, leafing through it as she eavesdropped on his little radio conversation, just to pick up clues on what he might be interested in. "potato vodka....prison wine....pretty fucking sure this is just wound wash disguised as tequila...." uncorking it and taking a cautious sniff has nose scrunching and sliding it pointedly away from her on the bar, glaring daggers at the offending bottle of wannabe designer booze. attention returned to duck the moment he gave her his game plan and she shrugged with a nonchalance that hopefully told him everything he needed to know about how much she cared about the integrity of this place. "fuck it --- make that wall your bitch, handsome...i'm just looking to have that scratching stop before i lose my shit and morph into one of those woodland fucks."

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

[merci-bitch]

My Sweet Little One part II

Rose The Hat x fem!reader

Warning(s): swearing, slight abuse, PDA? 

Words: 2,5k

A/N: It has been quite a while. Hasn’t it? Haha. Well there might be a part 3 to this. It’s not as long as the first part which is 8k, and I have no idea how to make links so sadly I can’t link it here. ;/ . Hopefully there will more stories coming soon!

I made Y/N mine, alright. And everyone knew it, for sure. The next night she laid in my bed, I made her scream my name until her vocal chords were raw and made sweat crack across her place physiognomy.

No one could have her body the way I do, specially that loathsome rube. But he doesn't matter now.' I told myself. Though I wanted to make him pay. Rip his heart out and eat it on a silver platter after making him after making him suffer. Who the hell does he think he is? Laying his hands on my Y/n. They might both be steamy but he should see me. Oh yes, I am a cathedral compared to his small amount of steam.

"Rosie?" Y/n's voice pulled me out of my self induced trance. "Yes love?" I hummed. "You were zoning off again. Is something the matter?" I loved hearing the sweetness in her voice. It was like music to my ears.

"No darling, I'm quite alright." I smiled and placed my lips against hers and gave her a soft kiss. 'If only she knew though.' I thought to myself but shoved that aside for the moment. I could feel her soft hands gently caressing my bare skin and moved closer to her. Normally I preferred being the big spoon but on this moment, I didn't quite mind. She was home now and has been for quite a few weeks but still, I missed her.

"You're sure?" I nodded and ran my hands through Y/n's hair. "You're so pretty. You know that right?" She nodded and I smirked. "There is no one quite like you." Y/n's cheeks flushed cherry red and I chuckled. "No shame, darling. I only speak the truth."

"I know." She gave me a small smile that made me swell up inside. "Have you thought about my offer?" Y/n let out a sigh and I sat up. "I have but-"

"But what?" I tried my hardest not to sound angry. "When you stabbed me before, you told me it was for steam?" I nodded cordially. "Is that...what you guys eat?"

"Does it matter?" I expected to have her argue with me a little bit but surprisingly she didn't. Which I was thankful for. I took Y/n's hands gently in my own and kissed them. "Look, I know it's hard for you to wrap your head around but their pain is our gain. Don't you want to have a life with me? Unconditional bliss?"

She looked down as she slowly sat up and started fumbling with her hands. I wanted to say things, but I didn't want her to run away again. I didn't want to lose her again. She was mine, and only mine.

—— You don't know what it's like, not knowing who you are. To have lived in the shadows and to have travelled this far. Now I've seen a flashes of fire and echos of screams. But I still have faith, faith that someday my memories will come back.

In my dreams, it's all real. And my heart has so much to reveal. And my dreams seems to say, 'don't be afraid to go on, don't give up hope, come what may.' I know it will all come back! One day!

In my dreams shadows call. There's a light at the end a hall. Then my dreams fade away, but I know it will all come back one day. I just remember, rain against the windows. Sheets upon a bed. Terrifying nurses whispering overhead.

It was all strange. Rose, everyone. They say I was found on the side of the road. It had recently rained. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees. A girl with no name, and no memories but these above. I don't know a thing before that. Traveling the back roads, sleeping in the wood. I was always taking what I needed, working when I could. Keeping up my courage, foolish as it seems.

In my dreams I've always dreamed of a city. I dream of a city beyond all compare. Is it Paris? Paris... A beautiful river, a bridge by a scare and I hear a simple voice whisper, 'I'll meet you right there in Paris.' Paris.

Dancing bears, painted wings. Things I almost remember, and a song someone sings. It's almost December. Once upon a December. Someone holds me safe and warm. Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully and across my memory.

Far away, long ago. Glowing dim as an ember and things my heart used to know and things it yearns to remember. And a song someone used to sing.

Heart don't fail me now and courage don't desert me. Don't turn back now that we're here. People have always said, life is full of choices and they aren't wrong but they never mentioned fear. Or how the world can seem so vast. On a simple journey to the past.

Somewhere down this road. I know someone true is waiting. Years of dreams just can't be wrong! Someone's arms will open wide and I'll be safe and wanted. Finally a place where I belong. Well, starting now I'm learning fast! On my journey to my past.

Home, love and family. There has to be a time where I had them too. I wouldn't be complete until I find you. But always one step at a time. One hope, then another. Who knows where this road may go? I wanna go back to who I was. On to find my future. There are things my heart still needs to know. Yes! Let this be some kind of sign and let this road be mine. Let it lead me to my past, and bring me home. At last!

—

"So, when the fuck was you gonna tell me."

"Hm? Tell you what my dear."

"Cut the sweet act Rose."

"What's wrong with you? Did they tease you again? You want tea?"

"Oh fuck you."

"Watch it."

"Watch it?! You have some fucking nerve Rose."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. The fuck did you think was gonna happen?"

"Seriously, what do you mean Y/N."

"Did you think I was gonna forget your words? Think I was gonna forget how useless and worthless you called me?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Shut it. I know exactly what you said, I'm not stupid or will I ever fall for some cover up you're calling this. I was happy without you!"

"You would never survive without me!"

"I did perfectly well for 10 fucking years Rose!"

"You call that happy?! With that Danny? You call that happy Y/N?"

"He loved me! He took care of me! More then you'd ever done, he took me for what I was. He picked up the pieces you broke."

"You better watch it. I don't mind killing you myself."

"See, this is exactly where you and I are different. I spend years not fitting in but thinking it was fine. Cause you were 'there' and cuddled me. Did you ever really love me? Cause you're blaming me for everything here, when it actually was you who fucked it up."

"I fucked it up?! You were the one who was so fucking ungrateful!"

"Ungrateful?! I have a fucking soul!"

"No, you don't! Cause you fucking sold it to the devil. You're not human. We turned you Y/N!"

"Excuse me what?"

"What?"

"No, don't change subject. What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Did you fucking turn me without me saying you could?! Rose what the fuck!"

"What, you're mine. Just had to claim you. You'll be fine."

"Fine?! I don't wanna feed of dead kids Rosie!"

"They're actually quite delicious."

"You're fucking sick."

"Didn't stop you from fucking me."

"I didn't really have a choice."

"I didn't fucking rape you."

"Nah, it felt like it."

"You screamed my name out of pleasure."

"How come you were so sure of that?"

"I saw it, I saw your mind."

"What if that was just for play?"

"Oh, fuck you."

"I'd kill you if you tried."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'd like to see you try."

"Come at me."

"You can't be serious."

"Come kill me Rose."

"No."

"Coward."

"You're a bitch. A fucking bitch."

"Yet you put up with me for years. Took me back in when I was vulnerable. Loved me, well. Kind of. You held me close to you. Favorited me. So technically, I was your bitch."

"Exactly. You're my bitch."

"I was, not anymore."

"You'll always be my bitch. You're so weak for me, nothing will change that."

"Rose-"

"Begging already? Hm. Get on your knees."

"What?"

"Now!"

"Never."

"Get on your fucking knees before I make you."

"Make me then."

"You're playing with fire Y/N. I fucking hate you."

"Yeah, yeah. We've all heard that. How about something new?"

Before I knew it, her hand was wrapped around my throat. Holding me up in the air. Not a single piece of happiness or softness in her eyes. It was just dark. Her whole face was filled with anger. The veins in her throat showed as she strained. Her jaw clenched. Her hand squeezing harder around my throat. More and more air was ripped from my throat.

"You'll learn your fucking place. You disgraceful little piece of shit."

Her fingernails started to dig into the skin of my neck and my vision started to blacken out. Clawing at her hand. Choking on whatever air that was left in my lungs.

"R-Rosie-"

"Hm? Can't really hear you, my dear."

Her hand tightened even more and I felt my limbs go lump. Everything going dark.

-

"I don't know Abra. She's been gone for so long. She was missing when I came back from the bathroom at the cinema. You haven't seen anything?"

"No, I've been trying. It's like Rose is cutting her off from us."

"I just hope she's alright. She doesn't deserve all this."

"I know, but we'll find her."

—

"Sweetheart? Hey, wake up."

I felt someone slap my cheek. Groaning in pain, moving my head away. Slowly opening my eyes.

"Rose?"

"Yes, I'm right here."

"What happened?"

"My dear child, you passed out. You had a nightmare from sleeping and got up and started crying. Then you just dropped."

"Really? I don't remember."

"Oh, don't worry. I've got you."

Rose put her arms around me and pulled the covers over us, giving my forehead a kiss. I couldn't put my thought to it. Was that really what happened? I shook my head and snuggles close to Rose. Breathing in her scent. Relaxing. Smiling softly and looking up at her.

"What? What are you smiling about."

"Nothing."

"Come on, I can see there's something."

"I just -"

"Yes?"

"I love you, Rosie."

"I love you too Y/N."

—

"Rose? Is this really how it has to go?"

"Yes, my dear. Now come on. Stab her."

"I-I don't know, it's just a child."

"What have I told you before?"

"I-, their pain, our gain."

"That's it. Now come, feed your family."

Rose's hands were on my waist, her nose brushing against the back of my neck. I slowly raised the knife in the air. Feeling a sort of deja vu. Had I done this before? I couldn't have. Despite the child's cries, pleas and begging Rose was right. Their pain was our gain. I had to do this to feed the family. The true knot was my family.

Muttering a soft 'sorry' before stabbing the child. Stabbing it over and over again. Hearing both Rose's and Crow's laughter behind me. I felt angry for some reason, the child in front of me was the beat for my anger. The piece to take out all the unknown anger. Again and again. Until there was nothing left. Dropping the knife, shaking.

"You did so great, look at all that steam! Well last for weeks! If not even months. Good girl."

Rose gave me a wet kiss and stroked my cheek.

"Rosie?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Have I done this before?"

"What? Stabbing a child?"

"Yeah, I got like a deja vu."

"Well, haven't we all wished to kill children?"

Her carefree laughter filled the air. It didn't make any sense, but it had to.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Don't be so sad now, poppet. You did well."

"It just feels weird. I was a child too once."

"We all were. But now we are adults, we are the true knot. We live as more powerful then pathetic rubes. You said so yourself."

"I did?"

"Right you did."

"Oh, I can't remember much."

Rose stroked my cheek again and pulled me against her. Rubbing my back and watched the moonlight with me. It was silent. Was it nice? Was it confusing? Was it awkward?

"I just, this doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I've been walking, but with my face turned to the sun. This weight on my shoulders. And I feel as if I need to run. I do what I can to please you and the others, I just feel like an outsider."

"This is your home, can't you hear freedom calling? Calling you to stay. Don't you feel it in your bones? You belong here."

"In the morning before the sun starts shining, we gotta start moving again, can I drive with you?"

"Always."

—

"So I'm gonna stand up, and take my people with me. Together we are going to our brand new home. Far across the river. Do you hear freedom calling? Calling you to answer their prayer."

"That's what you got?"

"Yes, it was all I could find out."

"It's not really helpful."

"I know, I don't know what's going on. Before it was so easy to track her."

—

"I go to prepare a place for you."

Rose watched you sleep. She knew it wouldn't be long until your memories would come back. Her and Crow had been talking about what to do with you. She didn't want to kill you. She did love you, but if she had to she would kill you. You were steamy but she didn't know if it was that good. She had only tasted it once, but it was only little bit.

It had tasted like flowers. For some reason each time Rose would think about it. She would feel this, this heavy feeling in her chest. She didn't know what it was. It couldn't be guilt, could it? No. Of course not. Rose The Hat never had guilt. She was a strong a confident woman. Powerful. The queen bitch of castle hell.

Rose O'Hara knew guilt, knee pain and specially weakness. Rose The Hat could never dream of getting on her knees for anyone.

If she had to kill the one thing she loved. She fucking would.