Romans & histoires Hood Black Rugrats

That rug, that stupid old filthy rug, had seen more dancing shoes than a ballroom. It was where we twirled, everyone with everyone, the music escaping from every open window and door. Once the colour of cherries, now it told an earthy tale of love and laughter, of more good times than anyone is ever promised. I watched as compelled humans replaced it with a brand new black rug which will be starting its chapter with us tonight.

“You like the house so much you can’t stop staring?” Alina blinked, caught off guard by his tone, but chose to ignore him. Since when did admiring something become a crime? They passed through the towering double doors and entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch forever. Alina is beginning to feel her legs ache from the walk. By the time they reached the end, she found herself stepping into an enormous living room… and her eyes instantly caught the color. Black. Everything was black. The massive sectional couch was deep charcoal, the thick rug underfoot was midnight black, the walls were painted in the same shade, and the heavy curtains matched perfectly. It was as if someone had taken

Four pairs of eyes glare at me, there is pin-drop silence, and we all look at each other and start laughing. Raven's teeth are red because of the food colouring I added to her toothbrush. Blake has his phone in hand that is completely covered in elastic bands and, both Reed and Ryder have black hair. My prank is a success. “Kiara, my hair is black” Reed whines, and I shrug. He looks hot, with black hair. It gives you the whole bad boy vibe, but his body should be pink. I wonder what happened? and Reed answers for me.

The door burst open, slamming into the wall. A young scout staggered inside. His clothes were torn. His skin was gray and dull. He barely made it to the center of the room before his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. Rowan rushed to him, catching him. “What happened? Where is your patrol?” The boy lifted his head. My breath stopped. His eyes were black. Not dark brown. Not shadowed. Black. Thick. Swirling. Wrong. Witch-rot. The curse was not just in me. It was spreading.

Something sticky had already glued itself to the heel of my boot, and I didn’t want to know what it was. Aiden was still across the room, half-buried under a lopsided fort made of oversized pillows and plastic chairs, giggling with two other kids I didn’t recognize. One of them—a rogue boy with mismatched socks, wild curls, and what looked suspiciously like peanut butter in his hair—was roaring like a dragon and stomping on a foam alphabet mat. The other, a sharp-eyed girl with a permanent scowl and a set of toy fangs, had stationed herself at the “door” of the fort and was growling at anyone who came too close.

rug softness with my bare feet. “You know you can sit down, right?” he said, watching me balance on one foot. “But the texture—” He swooped me up with one arm and dropped me on the nearby couch. “You’re banned. I’ll test the rug.” “You don’t have sensitive pregnant feet.” “No,” he smirked, “but I have excellent taste.” I threw a pillow at him, and he caught it easily. “Cheater.” --- By the weekend, we were almost done. The crib arrived early — handmade oak, no toxic finishes. Xander insisted on assembling it himself, refusing to let the delivery guys touch it.

Once again making Ren do the same what he has done before staring at the same spot where he felt someone was staring. The little girl covers her mouth trying her best not to make any sound with her doe eyes wide making a small smile over her face. Once again the little girl gulps in response looking over the same place where Ren stood a few moments ago. “Ah? Where did he go?” mumbling into a soft voice with the pout of her lips as her eyes scanned around looking all over the place in search of the guy. "I think he wants away" mumbling under her breath looking down at the doll she is holding in her hand. Who has messy black hair the colour of it seems to be faded away due to time?

And there, behind an impossibly large desk, sat Dominic Blackwood. He’d grown even more dangerous-looking since the last time I saw him. Dark hair, cropped short on the sides and just long enough on top to be pushed back with careless precision. A sharp, cut jaw dusted with stubble, and eyes the color of storm clouds — cold, unreadable, and fixed on me like a predator sizing up its next move. “Amelia,” he said, voice like smoke and shattered glass. I swallowed hard. “Dom— I mean, Mr. Blackwood.”

Yman's body was enveloped by black mana as he was slowly pushing his body to get up. The Noble Rat wondered if this person just playing dead a moment ago. Never did the Noble Rat expected for this human to hide such a card up his sleeves. He was dying just a moment ago, but now, his body had something weird on it. The current Yman has ears the same as the Noble Rat but it colored like black smoke. His hands have black long nails but the sizes and forms were the same as that of the Noble Rat and his eyes had turned red, but in this state, his vision was unhindered in this dark surroundings. He even has a black tail grown on its back the same as the Noble rat.

“Hmm… a rocking chair in the corner, for sure. One that glides. And a big, fluffy rug. Like, something ridiculously soft. I want to be able to lie on the floor with them.” His eyes softened. “Done. I’ll find the softest rug in existence. What about the crib?” “Simple,” I said. “White wood. Nothing too fancy. And one of those little mobiles that spins and plays music. Maybe with little moons and wolves hanging from it.” Kai chuckled. “Wolves?” I blushed. “Too on the nose?” “No,” he said, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Perfect. It means they’ll always know where they came from.”