#chasseur au

[emily-nightray]

Olivier: I mean no offense, but I'm not sure if you'll make a good chasseur if you only have one arm. Gilbert: *Immediately punches and knocks over Roland.* Olivier: You're in.

[carbone14]

Chance Vought AU-1 Corsair de l'US Marine Corps – 1952

©United States Navy National Museum of Naval Aviation - 1986.145.002

[ishytori]

Просто один старий скетч кольоровим олівцем.

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

Just some old color pencil sketch.

[ghostwarriorrrr]

Chasseurs Curtiss P-40 Warhawk des Tigres Volants (1st American Volunteer Group) en formation au-dessus de la rivière Salouen (Salween River) à la frontière sino-birmane – Campagne de Birmanie – Guerre du Pacifique – 28 mai 1942 Photographe : R. T. Smith ©San Diego Air & Space Museum

[transparentgentlemenmarker]

Never forget.

En ce jour le plus long, plus de 200'000 hommes se trouvaient face à face, sur les plages de Normandie.

Les forces alliées débarquaient sur les plages de Normandie, le 6 juin 1944

Au nom de code Neptune, a été le plus important de l’histoire en termes de navires engagés.

Alliés

Effectifs: 156'177 hommes 5 divisions d’infanterie et 3 divisions aéroportées sont débarqués le jour J, dont 10'470 seront tués, blessés ou disparus, selon les chiffres du Mémorial de Caen, dans l’ouest de la France. Par mer, environ 133'000 hommes: soit 58'000 Américains sur les plages Utah et Omaha, 54'000 Britanniques sur Gold et Sword et 21'000 Canadiens sur Juno 177 Français débarquent aussi sur Sword.

Par air, 23'000 hommes: 13'000 parachutistes américains sont largués sur l’ouest de la France, dans le Cotentin et 10'000 Britanniques entre l’Orne et la Dives.

Aviation: pendant la seule journée du 6 juin, 11'500 appareils dont 3500 planeurs de transport, 5000 chasseurs et 3000 bombardiers survolent les plages normandes et déversent 11'912 tonnes de bombes sur les défenses côtières allemandes. Les pertes seront faibles: 127 avions perdus et 63 endommagés.

Marine: l’opération Neptune engage 6939 navires et la force de débarquement proprement dite comprend 4126 navires et barges constitués en 47 convois. Une partie des transports les LCA, Landing craft assault accompliront la traversée à bord de bateaux plus puissants pour n’être mis à la mer qu’au large de l’une de leurs cinq plages de débarquement. Les autres types de péniches traverseront la Manche par leurs propres moyens, notamment: les LCI (Landing craft infantry), petits transports de troupes, les LCT (Landing craft tanks) qui transportent des chars et des véhicules, les LCVP (Landing craft vehicle personal), les LST (Landing ship tanks), ainsi que les fameux «ducks» (canards), engins amphibies propulsés par une hélice. 20'000 véhicules et un millier de chars ont ainsi été transportés. La flotte logistique compte 736 navires auxiliaires et 864 navires marchands pour le transport de vivres, munitions et les hôpitaux flottants. Parmi les navires marchands, 54 blockships seront coulés pour former des rades artificielles.

L’escadre de combat totalise 137 navires de guerre dont sept cuirassés, une vingtaine de croiseurs, 221 destroyers, frégates, corvettes, 495 vedettes, 58 chasseurs de sous-marins, 287 dragueurs de mines, quatre poseurs de mines, deux sous-marins.

Forces allemandes

Effectifs: ~ 148'000 hommes de la 7ème armée sont stationnés en Normandie et environ 50'000 dans la zone de débarquement. A proximité des plages, une seule division blindée, la 21ème, au sud-est de Caen, et six divisions d’infanterie. Deux autres divisions blindées, la 12e SS (Hitler-Jugend) et la division Panzer-Lehr, sont respectivement près d’Evreux et vers Alençon-Le Mans. Trois autres divisions 1ère SS, 2ème et 16ème se tiennent au nord de la Seine, aux environs de Mons, Péronne et Senlis.

Aviation: une bonne partie des appareils vient d’être envoyée sur le front est. Restent quelques dizaines de bombardiers et chasseurs.

Marine: 30 vedettes, quatre destroyers, neuf torpilleurs, 35 sous-marins.

[nerdraging4point0]

Blood of Eden // Part One // Noah Sebastian Urban Fantasy AU Fic

Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.

CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @skulliecadaver-blog @hayleylatour @littlefoxkota @anameunmusical @talialovesmiw @sacredthefran @jilliemiw86 @darkmxgician

"You should be-sss-at the ceremony." Jolly hissed, his body sinking deeper into the leather couch. He dropped his head back, resting on the cushions, eyes rolling to the back of his skull. Black slacks pushed down just above his knees, no shirt, his long ash blonde hair pulled into a high bun keeping the strands off his face. Noah hummed, the only sound capable of being made with his mouth as full as it was. 

Fuck the ceremony. 

It was an hour or so of pledges and vows, all things Noah could do without. He hadn't even been excited for his own ceremony. He hated people watching him and judging him; he felt like an intimate thing like that should have been for him and him alone. 

But that wasn't tradition. 

Dragging his lips off Jolly's shaft, leaving a glossy sheen behind, he barely let the swollen head fall from his lips as he spoke. 

"Would you rather I be there than here?" 

Noah's teeth grazed the tip of Jolly's prized appendage, teasing him. His master let out a low moan, gritting his teeth; watching his jaw tighten only made Noah's smile broaden with pride. He was pushing his limits, testing forces he had no business testing. Noah's knees were sore; he'd been kneeling on the linoleum for a while now. He could have had Jolly off in a few minutes if he'd wanted, dragging it out on purpose; if he had kept his master busy before the hunt tonight, he'd have avoided the ceremony altogether.  

"You're stalling." Jolly's calloused hand ran through Noah's soft brown locks gripping at the crown of his head to push him back down on the man's stiff cock.

There was no more conversation as Noah's head bobbed back and forth, stroking his master's legs before cupping his knees and pulling him further down on the cushions, his thumbs stroking Jolly's surprisingly soft skin. Their relationship was one of understanding, loyalty, friendship, and ownership. Noah was a Chasseur, shifting creatures bred to serve their Mage masters; and serving his master was something Noah did well. 

When Noah was just a pup, he was gangly and awkward, but he had a bright smile and an eagerness to learn; Jolly picked him out of the large selection of new recruits, and Noah had never been happier. During his collaring ceremony, the very ceremony he was missing now, he'd been presented to his master with his peers and their masters watching as Jolly clasped the black choker on his then dainty neck. It hung loose on his neck back then. "You'll grow into it." Jolly had whispered to him. They shared a passionate kiss with all eyes on them, which made Noah elated at the time. Puppy love, they called it. Now, with his hair chopped short, muscles rounded out and more defined, his choker was clasped so tight his adam's apple sometimes struggled against the leather strap. 

Jolly bucked his hips as his warm release coated Noah's throat. The hunter leaned back onto his ass, rubbing his sore knees while his master tucked himself away. Crossing the floor in silence, Jolly extended his hand to run his fingers through Noah's hair. The hunter leaned into the touch, feeling the way his master's nails scratched into his scalp; he hummed the sound, turning into a rumble in his chest as Jolly tugged at the strands.

"Such a good boy, you are."

Their tender moment was interrupted as Jolly's phone buzzed against the oak wood of his desk. When he walked away, Noah pouted, letting out a whine. A stern look and a raised eyebrow had Noah storing away his pout.

His master slid a thumb across his phone screen, putting the device to his ear. No doubt it was the head-magi calling with the hunter's positions. Guarding the Mage's investments was a hunter's job, three banks, two laboratories, and the Skytower, a forty-five-story building where all the Mage lived with their hunters, needed to have round-the-clock guards. Noah silently prayed to whatever universal power or deity existed to let him guard the Skytower tonight; it would mean he'd have another forty-five minutes to spend being a good boy for his master. 

"Where?" Jolly growled into the receiver, his bare chest rising and falling, listening to orders from the other end of the line. Noah's ears pricked up. Standing from the floor, he squared his shoulders, bouncing on his feet, ready to move. Jolly hung up the phone, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

"Take, Oli. South side."

Noah felt his ears fall back; tail cast down. The south side was the central laboratory, with heavy traffic suitable for a busy night but far away from his master, much to Noah's disappointment.

Her feet met the concrete in hard strides; even through the heels of her boots, she could feel the force of her momentum as she pushed off the cement down the streets away from the lab. 

They were so close this time.

Her frustration drove her adrenaline as she bolted away. Rick and Chavez were the brains behind their operation; Chavez was their leader on the ground, and he'd been eager to show his worth. He had the blueprints of the lab and knew how to get in and out of places quickly. Rick was tech; he was supposed to disable the alarm system, blackout the security cameras, and redirect the radio traffic to keep the hunters away long enough for them to sneak in. A secondary alarm system had been triggered the minute they walked in. While the inexperienced ones panicked and tried to still get in, hoping to score their goods, she knew what she was coming for would be heavily guarded. Futile to proceed, she turned on her heel and bolted from the lab. 

Snarls broke through the silence of the streets, echoing on the brick and steel buildings around her, and she knew the hunters were on her trail. Continuing to weave through side streets and neighborhoods, she hoped she could shake them; hunters rarely pursued after a few weaves and dodges; that was what she was counting on. Somehow, she'd gotten herself turned around and found her way down a dimly lit street she'd never been before. She slowed her pace; no way she'd been followed, dropping her hands to her knees she took deep slow breaths grounding herself by feeling the dark, scratchy denim in her palms. Her lungs were burning, the sting on her cheeks from running for so long. Cardinal red hair falling over her shoulder, cascading down in long waves, cursing under her breath. Somewhere during her weaving and bobbing she’d lost her scrunchy, her hair now free and loose in a frizzy mess. 

A short bark, then a snarl, sounded from the block over.

Fuck. 

She spun around looking for her next best option. She couldn't keep running down the street; they'd catch her eventually. An alley was a few feet away; turning down its dark, narrow cavern she could see the ladder leading to the roof. Perfect.

The silver rungs to freedom were too high up for her to reach. She jumped, trying to catch the lowest one; as she rose in the air, her fingertips barely grazed the cool metal, which was no good. She was still too short. A dumpster sat full just a foot or two away. Wasting no time, she climbed up the box, trying not to slip on the slanted lid, last night's rain still lingering on its top, making the task difficult. The barks sounded out again; she could hear the tinkling of metal and claws on the asphalt.

Shit.

If she didn't make this, she'd crash to the ground and barely be able to climb back up before they found her and possibly killed her there in the alley. She could just imagine their teeth digging into the flesh of her throat, warm blood flowing out of her veins, and limbs being ripped from her body. 

One shot, she had one shot. 

Sitting perched on her feet, taking a deep breath, it was now or never. 

Leaping from the dumpster, she reached out for the suspended ladder, catching the bar with her right hand, and could only barely hang on. Her left made contact with the metal, feeling the bruise already forming on her upper bicep; she cried out but held her grip. Forgetting her pain and remembering what was hunting her, she climbed, pulling herself up till her feet rocked back and forth, steading on the bar before helping her ascend up the wall. Cracked concrete bleached from the sun and covered in dry bird shit was not what you think of for safety. But if it meant she was up off the ground and away from the four-legged hunters below, she could be satisfied with it. Still feeling her heart racing from adrenaline, she looked for another way down in case the hunters camped out or sent their masters for her. 

Her way up seemed to be the only way down; a leap between the adjoined buildings was her only option; a foot or two shorter than where she stood with a solid eight-foot wide gap between them was just enough that if she had a running start, she could leap across. 

"I could try it," she said aloud. 

A deep snort from behind her made her blood run cold. 

"Fuck." she mumbled under her breath. Knowing it was a bad idea, she slowly turned anyway, facing the beast head-on. Short-haired with long legs and large paws, it was a beast from hell. Dark brown orbs stared back at her from over its muzzle. The leather straps caged the long snout, the huffs of its breath hot on her skin even from this distance. When it snarled at her, the leather stretched, resisting the creature's open jaws, the straps snuggly secured behind tall pointed ears, whiplike tail swatting at the air. 

Stalking slowly out of the shadows from the direction of her only means of exit was another version of this deadly beast, its fur brown and shaggy snout also clasped by a muzzle. The shaggy beast turned to his comrade, snorting, and the demon dog gave a low growl in response.

"You fuckers can climb walls?" Her voice cracked as it escaped her throat. "Why am I not surprised?"

She turned, looking over the gap in the buildings. If she leaped across at this distance, she'd hit the wall, maybe even fall a good fourteen feet if she tried to cold jump it. Her escape route was looking pretty dim. Her eyes darted back to the beasts behind her; the shaggy one dropped his head, stalking toward her with determination. The hellhound barked assertively, the shaggy partner stepping back and giving him a quizzical look. 

Can they climb walls and communicate with each other? What the fuck did these bastards create? Suddenly, a torn-out throat or a fourteen-foot fall seemed to pale compared to the more dangerous things these creatures could do; all teeth and claws with what seemed like the intelligence of the average human did not mix well. 

Well, I'm gonna die either way, aren't I?

Reality creeping up, she turned back to the gap, thinking a fourteen-foot fall would be quick; teeth in her skin might take a while as she bleeds out slowly. She shuddered at the thought. Then again, they couldn't tear out her throat with muzzles, could they? 

They couldn't climb walls with paws, but here they were. Anything was possible. 

She turned back to ensure the muzzles were still secured to their faces, staggering from the sight. 

No longer four-legged beasts, the two men were squatting on their heels shoulder to shoulder. The one on her left was adorned in black leather boots and pants, the hem of his long sleeves hooking securely to his middle finger. Shaggy brown curls to his shoulders, rounding up by his eyebrows and flipping upwards. The muzzle covering the lower half of his face couldn't hide the smile playing on his lips. 

But the one to her right.

Black tank, leather pants, and boots, his own muzzle covering his face, the measly leather mask unable to hide his obvious beauty. Tattooed on every inch of his exposed skin, soft brown strands of hair licking his forehead short and clean, those intense brown orbs still locked onto her with a glint in them like he would enjoy tearing her apart. He bore a strap round his neck, a silver ring glinting in the dim light moving in time with the rise and fall of his chest. 

Goddamn it. They were back.

Her hallucinations played tricks with her vision, plaguing her with thoughts and images that were so disturbing it was driving her insane. Her Nightshade injections weren't lasting as long as they used to. Desperate to correct the world again, she violently shook her head, hitting her temple with the heel of her hand. 

Get it together. My life is on the line. 

It's just a hallucination, a hot one, but a hallucination.

Opening her eyes, there stood the animals; the devil dog took a step forward, curiosity burning in his eyes. His partner drooling next to him, the saliva dripping out of the leather on his snout. 

Done. Decision made. 

She leaped off the ledge, her body folding in half over the concrete lip, the air leaving her lungs on impact. It was too wide, and she was barely holding on, the toes of her boots scraping at the brick, seeking traction to get herself back on somewhat solid ground. She could hear whining over the beat of her heart and the scrape of her shoes. They hadn't jumped after her, but she wouldn't wait to let them try. She got herself almost over the hump before sliding back down, narrowly managing to grip the ledge again. She struggled some more before a sharp pain in her right shoulder split open her skin, and the heat of fresh blood ran over the open wounds. She was hurled from her suspension onto the opposite roof, rolling into the gravel, her left hand reaching for the wounded arm. Puncture wounds on her shoulder blade and collarbone dripped with fresh blood and a wet, watery substance that was not hers. Vision clouding from the pain and her heart racing in her ribcage, she turned to see the same tank top-wearing man from before. Crouched down on all four limbs, shaking and panting, his muzzle was gone, dark dribbles of what was unmistakably her own blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. 

Her body went numb, starting at her toes before rushing to her head, eyes fluttering closed and her vision going dark. 

[hedgehog-moss]

Bonjour, Mon rêve absolu est d'habiter à la campagne, dans un endroit très isolé et sans voisins. Mais j'ai la phobie des chasseurs, et je ne sais pas comment je vais faire pour les supporter. Je randonne beaucoup en campagne, et j'en croise énormément, ou bien je me retrouve au milieu de battues (je suis pourtant sur des circuits de rando). Je vois des amorces de cartouche près des maisons, aussi. Bref, je me demandais : comment fais-tu avec eux ? Merci pour ton blog, si beau et reposant ! <3<3

Salut :) Je compatis vraiment, la chasse est une plaie... Ils sont censés disposer des panneaux 'battue en cours' mais pareil je croise souvent des chasseurs & chiens en forêt sans avoir vu le moindre panneau. (Une fois j'ai vu un chasseur en train d'installer tranquillement son panneau à 100m de chez moi – j'ai été le voir en mode faudrait peut-être songer à pas se foutre du monde et il a dit qu'il ne s'était pas rendu compte qu'il était si près, alors qu'on voyait ma maison depuis l'endroit où il mettait le panneau...)

Ils aiment bien prétendre être l'ultime rempart entre l'honnête citoyen et une incontrôlable invasion de sangliers mais j'ai dû batailler pendant un an pour qu'ils arrêtent de poser des tonneaux pleins de maïs dans mes bois pour attirer les sangliers, donc bon. Arrêtez de les gaver déjà ? Ils élèvent aussi des faisans pour les mettre en liberté la veille d'une battue, les pauvres pitchouns n'ont aucun instinct de survie (se laissent approcher sans problème, errent au milieu des routes d'un air paumé...), ça doit être aussi gratifiant que de chasser des poulets de batterie. C'est vraiment le sketch des Inconnus où ils arrivent avec leur propre galinette et se mettent à quatre pour lui tirer dessus dès qu'elle sort de sa cage.

Bref je n'ai pas vraiment de solution, j'imagine que les options se résument à : 1. Parler de ta problématique aux maires des communes quand tu en seras à prospecter, pour savoir s'il y a des espaces protégés ou plus sûrs — sur les hauts plateaux derrière chez moi il doit y avoir peu de gibier par rapport aux coteaux boisés, je n'y vois jamais de chasseurs par ex 2. S'adapter comme les chevreuils pour devenir un animal nocturne et faire ses balades la nuit. Bon personnellement j'adore me balader la nuit, il y a plein d'animaux sauvages et de beaux ciels étoilés, mais c'est vrai qu'on ne profite pas trop des paysages ! 3. Ne se balader que chez soi de septembre à mars, si on possède un terrain avec quelques champs ou une parcelle de forêt, puisqu'on peut faire interdire la chasse dans les terrains privés (c'est pas foolproof mais à force de râler on y arrive...), et ne s'aventurer plus loin que hors saison :/ 4. j'allais ajouter : s'installer à proximité d'un parc naturel ou une forêt protégée, mais je viens de vérifier et apparemment la chasse est quand même autorisée dans la plupart de ces zones >< J'ai une forêt protégée près de chez moi où chasse & exploitation sont interdites, mais ça doit être au cas par cas pour savoir ce qui est autorisé ou pas dans une forêt donnée, et les autorisations peuvent changer (comme dans le parc naturel du Vercors je crois où ils avaient interdit puis ré-autorisé puis ré-interdit la chasse en l'espace de 3 ans...)

Pandolf a horreur des chiens de chasse et il entend les battues bien avant moi et ça le fait grommeler, donc avoir un chien peut aider, au moins pour être alertée de la présence de chasseurs à proximité, surtout les jours de mauvaise visibilité. Je me souviens d'une fois où il s'était mis à grogner sans que je sache pourquoi (on était chez nous), je vais voir au fond du pré et au bout d'un moment j'entends un coup de fusil au loin et c'était un jour de brouillard épais où on ne voyait pas à cinq mètres, faut vraiment être un branquignol pour chasser dans ces conditions... Mais même si on arrive à mettre la main sur un interlocuteur auprès de qui se plaindre on reçoit en gros le message "ah oui c'est pas très autorisé ça mais bon ma bonne dame faudra vous y faire, vous êtes à la campagne, y'a des chasseurs"

[valardynasty]

Partie 1/2

Ma version des Maïar sous forme humaine.

Maïa Eönwë, héraut et porte-bannière du Vala Manwë, considéré comme le chef des Maïar.

Maïa Ilmarë, la servante de la Vala Varda Elentàri, gardienne des étoiles, chef des Maïar.

Maïa Olorin, le plus sage des Maïa, au service de Varda et Manwë, ami de la Vala Nienna.

Maïa Ossë, ancien Úmaiar devenu vassal d'Ulmo, serviteur de Mandos et amis de tous les marins.

Maïa Arien, l'esprit du feu Maïa de Vána et Estë, la guide du bateau qui fut appelée Soleil.

Maïa Tilion, chasseur de la compagnie d'Orome, esprit guide du bateau qui fut appelé Lune.

Création par Intelligence Artificielle.

[logogreffe]

French Podcast Recommendations

The following list contains podcasts in French that I, a native French speaker, listen to. So if you're a beginner in French, those might be too hard for you !

The rest of the post will be in French !

1) Chasseurs de Sciences : Chaque épisode dure une dizaine de minutes et porte sur des scientifiques/personnalités "méconnu(e)s". (Il y a plein d'épisodes sur des femmes qui ont eu un impact énorme sur leur discipline)

Super intéressant !

Mes épisodes préférés : Henrietta Lacks, morte il y a 70ans..et toujours vivante ; Ada Lovelace, autrice du premier programme informatique..en 1843 ; Rosalind Franklin, une femme à la conquête de l'ADN ; Nelly Bly, 10 jours dans un asile psychiatrique et 72 jours autour du monde ;

2) Vénus s'épilait-elle la chatte ?

C'est un podcast sur l'histoire de l'art et le féminisme !

Les épisodes sur Picasso et Frida Kahlo sont à écouter absolument ! Frida Kahlo, au delà du mythe ; Picasso, séparer l'homme de l'artiste ;

3) Thinkerview :

Séries d'interviews sur différents sujets (qui ne sont pas vraiment mentionnés dans les médias).

Super intéressant si vous vous intéressez un peu à la géopolitique/ réchauffement climatique

Mes épisodes préférés : L'effondrement, le point critique ? Aurore Stéphant (Elle parle de l'industrie minière et de ses impacts sur l'environnement. L'écoute de cet épisode devrait être obligatoire pour l'ensemble de la population)

Guillaume Pitron : L'enfumage de la transition écologique

4) Mythologie Grecque

Un podcast sur ... la mythologie grecque !

Remarque : Je crois qu'à la base c'est un podcast à écouter avant d'aller dormir donc les effets sonores sont un peu...particuliers.

Voilà voilà, après, je vous conseille, s'il y a des sujets particuliers qui vous intéressent, de juste les taper en français dans la barre de recherche de Spotify et de choisir au hasard des podcasts ! C'est comme ça que j'ai découvert un tas de podcasts en anglais/ allemand/ espagnol. Bonne écoute !

[octoberbluegates-fr]

Les six contes du solstice d'été sont bientôt terminés!

Click here for the english poll

Nous y sommes enfin! Les contes sont écrits et seront publiés la semaine prochaine en autoédition ^^ Il ne reste plus qu'à décider de quelle histoire sera le bonus, et pour cela, je vous laisse choisir!

Un très rapide résumé des contes pour vous aider :

Pas de repos pour le soleil

Un jeune sorcier jette un sort au soleil pour que le jour dure tous les jours aussi longtemps qu'au solstice d'été

-

La couronne de fleurs et les sept roussalki

L'histoire d'amour d'une princesse et des sept jeunes filles qui la comprenaient le mieux, inspirée du folklore d'Europe de l'Est

-

Le vampire qui se languissait du soleil

Un malheureux vampire, guidé par une gentille sorcière, part à la recherche du soleil qui ne le brûlera pas

-

Les gâteaux au miel

Une petite fille, en rentrant chez elle le soir du solstice, est très heureuse de découvrir le royaume des fées.

-

Le soleil qui ne se levait pas

Trois sorcières partent à la recherche du coq magique capable de réveiller le Roi Chêne.

-

Le chat d'Hélios

Comment Hélios reçut et perdit son chat bien-aimé qui était un peu trop bon chasseur.

[emily-nightray]

Gilbert and Break infiltrating the chasseurs is much funnier if it happens after Gilbert loses his arm. Being blind and with one arm, Break and Gilbert are still going to be the top fighters. Especially of the main people. So it makes sense to send them in because they can adapt to fighting the easiest. But how is anyone supposed to believe people like them would want to join? Obviously Break is good enough to fake it but Gilbert is still missing an arm. So this would mean Gilbert has to go in and be convincing enough that he can still fight without an arm (he can) and create a fake story about it (a vampire took it and I want vengeance upon them) or give in and get a fake arm.

I mean, they'd be the best yet absolutely worst spies in this situation.

[carbone14]

Douglas A-20C Havoc en cours de maintenance à la base aérienne de Langley – Virginie – Etats-Unis – Juillet 1942

Photographe : Alfred T. Palmer

©United States Library of Congress - LC-USW36-203

[microcosme11]

Parade des Chasseurs à Cheval de la Garde impériale au Palais des Tuileries by François Flameng

[lilycrylique]

Jour 18 : Guider, conduire

Day 18 : Drive

Dessin traditionnel tracé au crayon à papier puis encré avec les stylos Pigma Micron.

Connor, autrefois chasseur de deviants, a endossé le rôle de guide et leader des survivants post-révolution depuis l'échec de Markus. Il a nommé à la tête du corps décisionnel Markus, Hank, North, Simon, Josh et Gavin afin de laisser aux androides une chance de vivre.

---

Traditional drawing with pencil then inked with Pigma Micron pens.

Connor, once a Deviant Hunter, has taken on the role of guide and leader of the post-revolution survivors since Markus's failure. He appointed Markus, Hank, North, Simon, Josh and Gavin to head the decision-making body in order to give the androids a second chance to live.

[ishytori]

Це було очевидне рішення.

Я вважаю, це справді жахливо, що Астольфо був зовсім один до того, як Роланд прийшов і допоміг йому в 59 розділі. Гано так жорстоко розповів йому про загибель усієї сім'ї, Ож'є підштовхнув до самогубства. І після цього Астольфо був зовсім один, прив'язаний до ліжка, не здатний навіть кричати. Ніхто не прийшов йому допомогти. Шарль віктімблеймив його за спробу самогубства і сказав, що він брудний через мітки. І знову ніхто не прийшов і не сказав, що Шарль помиляється. Знову Астольфо був зовсім один, і все закінчилось селфхармом через ненависть до себе.

Мені хотілося, щоб хтось був з ним поруч у ці темні моменти, тому я написала АУ, в якій не було ніякого доктора Моро, і Ванітас залишився в мисливцях і зустрів Астольфо.

"Діти підземель"

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

It was an obvious desigion.

I think it's really terrible that Astolfo was all alone before Roland came to him in ch 59 and helped him. Gano told him about his family death in such a cruel way, Ogier pushed him to s*icide. And after all Astolfo was all alone, bounded to bed, unable even to scream. No one came to help him. Charles blamed him for s*icide attempt and said he's unclean because of marks. And once again no one came and no one said Charles was wrong. Once again Astolfo was all alone and ended up hurting himself because of self-hatred.

I wanted someone to be near him in this dark moments so I've written AU where there was no dr. Moreau and Vanitas stayed in chasseurs and met Astolfo.

"Children of catacombs" (Ukrainian)

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 43, 26 octobre 1901, Paris. No. 9. — Groupe de toilettes pour dames et jeune filles. Bibliothèque nationale de France

(1) Robe de visites pour jeune femme ou dame d'âge moyen, en bure d'Ecosse gris clair, à touffettes de poils ton sur ton. Jupe à corselet, taillée en forme; volant en forme à tête cachée sous des ganses noires et terminée par un plus petit volant en forme surmonté de quatre rangs de ganses. Sur le côté, pochette chasseur; le devant est ouvert en pointe et retenu par des barrettes. Boléro arrondi, fermé aussi par des barrettes, col rond; chemisette de velours vieil or; manche à coude légèrement élargie au bas.

(1) Visiting dress for young women or middle-aged ladies, in light gray Scottish bure, with tone-on-tone tufts of hair. Corselet skirt, cut to shape; shaped ruffle with head hidden under black braids and finished with a smaller shaped ruffle topped with four rows of braids. On the side, hunter's pocket; the front is open at a point and held in place by barrettes. Rounded bolero, also closed with barrettes, round neck; old gold velvet shirt; elbow sleeve slightly widened at the bottom.

Matériaux: 6m,50 de tissu gris; 0m,75 de velours.

—

(2) Manteau de promenade pour dame âgée, en drap noir, composé de quatre collets-châle bordés de grecques de piqûres blanches.

(2) Walking coat for an elderly lady, in black cloth, made up of four shawl collars edged with white stitching.

Matériaux: 4 mètre de drap.

Tricorne de feutre rouge, bordé de blanc et piqué d'un gros chou de taffetas blanc liséré au bord d'une chenille noire.

Tricorne of red felt, edged in white and stitched with a large white taffeta puff bordered with a black chenille.

—

(3) Dos de la figure 1.

(4) Dos de la figure 2.

(5) Robe de réception pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en lainage mélangé bleu, mauve et rose. Jupe à lés rapportés sous des galons noirs façonnés. Entre les lés, galons appliqués. Corsage blouse garni comme la jupe et décolleté en rond sur une guimpe de dentelle renaissance. Nœud de corsage et ceinture en velours chamois. Manche évasée sur un bouffant de dentelle cerclé de velours étroits.

(5) Reception dress for young woman or girl, in blue, mauve and pink wool blend. Skirt with strips under shaped black braid. Between the strips, applied braids. Blouse bodice trimmed like the skirt and round neckline on a renaissance lace wimple. Bodice bow and belt in chamois velvet. Flared sleeve on a lace bouffant surrounded by narrow velvet.

Matériaux: 6 mètres de lainage.

—

(6) Robe de visites pour jeune femme, en drap rouge "Légion d'Honneur." Jupe ornée de dents de piqûres qui rappellent sur la manche l'ornementation du boléro. Parements Augereau et bouffants de panne noire.

(6) Visiting dress for young women, in red cloth “Légion d’Honneur.” Skirt decorated with stitching teeth which recall the bolero ornamentation on the sleeve. Augereau facings and black purlin puffers.

Matériaux 5 mètres de drap, 1m,50 de panne.

(7) Dos de la figure 9.

(8) Dos de la figure 10.

(9) Robe de ville pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en homespun rainette. Jupe en forme ornée de ganses noires dessinant des losanges. Veste à basque ronde, garnie comme la jupe et entr'ouverte sur un dessous de soie vieux rose; ceinture de velours noir sur la veste. Manche à coude surmontée d'une épaulette arrondie comme le col.

(9) City dress for young women or girls, in homespun rainette. Shaped skirt decorated with black braids drawing diamonds. Round peplum jacket, trimmed like the skirt and half-open over an old pink silk underside; black velvet belt on the jacket. Elbow sleeve topped with a rounded shoulder pad like the collar.

Matériaux: 6 mètres d'homespun; 0m,50 de soie rose.

—

(10) Costume de chasse pour jeune femme ou jeune fille , en cover-coat bleu clair, Jupe plissée par groupes, montée au-dessous d'une partie plate enserrant les hanches par des repincés. Boléro ajusté, orné d'un double col en forme bordé de repincés. Le devant ouvre aux trois quarts sur un gilet de drap blanc; le bas se ferme par des brandebourgs et de petits boutons d'argent. Manche à coude.

(10) Hunting suit for a young woman or girl, in a light blue cover-coat, Skirt pleated in groups, mounted below a flat part encircling the hips with repins. Fitted bolero, decorated with a double shaped collar edged with repinqués. The front opens three-quarters to reveal a white cloth vest; the bottom closes with frogs and small silver buttons. Elbow sleeve.

Matériaux: 5m,50 de cover-coat.

Chapeau cantinière en feutre gris clair cerclé de velours noir et piqués de deux couteaux bruns.

Canteen hat in light gray felt rimmed with black velvet and stitched with two brown knives.