#dame-umbra

[aglassprincess]

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS

BEFORE SUNRISE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: It's Rust's last day in Paris when you meet. You fall in love over the course of the day, and now you have to decide how to spend your final moments together before separating. Notes: Inspired by the plot of Before Sunrise + Rust's quote where he mentions he spent a month getting drunk on the Notre Dame's stairs.

BEFORE SUNRISE V2.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You meet Rust in Paris and fall in love over the course of the day. You decide how to spend the day together. Difference: It's not his final day in Paris; no separation.

COCAINE BINGE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You're in a relationship with Rust while he's undercover as Crash. After a rough week, Rust binges on cocaine and alcohol. Notes: Mentions of suicidal thoughts and substance abuse.

EXOTIC DANCER

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: While undercover as Crash, Rust and his biker gang hang out at a club. You're the new exotic dancer Rust the biker gang he rolls with hang out in and he's slowly fallen for you. Notes: Request!

FAKE DATING

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Rust is tired of Maggie playing matchmaker, and you're tired of your co-workers flirting with you. So, you both decide to pretend to be dating, even though you don't really get along. Notes: You're co-workers in the LSP.

GETAWAY CAR

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Takes place during episode 4, when Rust goes undercover as Crash. You're his getaway driver.

LUX UMBRA

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You and Rust are the top detectives in the LSP, but you're notoriously known for despising each other. When a new lead reopens a high profile case that had gone cold, you two are assigned to work it together and you have to look past your differences to solve it. Notes: Request for rival co-workers with feelings for each other.

NOISE COMPLAINT

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Rust is old and tired, and plagued by drinking and sleeping problems. You, his new neighbor, make things worse with your loud parties.

NOISE COMPLAINT V2

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Rust is old and tired, and plagued by drinking and sleeping problems. You, his new neighbor, make things worse with your loud late-night movies. Difference: No partying, but rather watching horror movies loudly.

NORTHERN LIGHTS

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You and Rust, who used to be together, met again in Alaska during his last week there. You spent your final night watching the northern lights before he left for Louisiana in the morning. Difference: It's his final day in Alaska. Notes: Because I'm bitter I couldn't see the northern lights IRL, I made this one to cope. >:(

NORTHERN LIGHTS V2

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You and Rust, who used to be together, met again in Alaska. You spent your night watching the northern lights. Difference: It's not his final day in Alaska.

PERIOD CRAMPS

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Rust takes care of you while you're on your period.

RIDE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You two are detective partners. Sometimes it's hard to tell if you're just friends or if it's more than that. As you drive back from a crime scene, you feel like there might be something special growing between you.

RIDE (CRASH'S VERSION)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You met Rust during his undercover job as Crash. Now you're in a relationship and you both feel happy together. You know it might not work out, but you enjoy the small moments. Right now, you've snuck out of a party, and you're sitting in his truck while he drives.

SHARP OBJECTS

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You take the role of Camille Preaker as you're tasked to go to Louisiana and get a story on the Dora Lange case. Difference: CamillePreaker!User in Louisiana. Notes: Inspired by the plot of Sharp Objects. I hope you enjoy this one, I've been the most excited to write this bot, in particular.

SHARP OBJECTS V2

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Rust heads down to Windgap to look into the case of the two missing girls, one of which was found strangled. Difference: Rust and CamillerPreaker!User in Windgap work together on the Sharp Objects case. Notes: Inspired by the plot of Sharp Objects. I hope you enjoy this one, I've been the most excited to write this bot, in particular.

SPILLED INK

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You and Rust are notoriously known for butting heads and getting into arguments. You have the tendency to leave the printer jammed for Rust to deal with, and he's had enough. Notes: Request for rival co-workers with feelings for each other. I wasn't sure if you wanted something silly or serious, so I made two versions of this.

STITCHES

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: After discharging himself from the hospital during the finale, Rust hurts himself. Marty takes him down to your clinic to patch him up.

UNDER THE WEATHER

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: You meet Rust in Paris and fall in love over the course of the day. You decide how to spend the day together. Notes: Same as the period cramps bot, but for those who don't have periods or just want a different version of it. :)

RAY VELCORO

YOU’RE HIS NEW DOCTOR

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LINK Plot: Self-explanatory

Okay, now I go rest. Have fun! 💗 🌷

[q-ueen-potato]

Introducing my OC For the Stolen Throne AU.

(To know more about her species and the others I made just check here)

(Amazing drawing made by @alexoreality , Moh-key at the first years of war)

Her name is Moh-key Drayce, she is the ancestor of the Monkey D. family being from 23 generations back counting from Luffy.

She was the Queen of Marijoise(that was a large kingdom at the time and not only a city) between the years 670 and 695. She ascended the throne at 17 years old after her father's death.

She could use all three forms of haki advanced. She was an expert fighter and from the rank seraphim (the army from her kingdom followed the angel hierarchy, Seraphim being the same level as fleet admiral)

The oldest child, she had two young sibilings. Prince Trafal-Garth and Princess Porcia-Gaze. She also had one cousin from her uncle, Lord Golde and two cousins from her aunt, Lady Ro-kes and Lord Tea-shez. She also had a cousin from a distant side of the family, Sir Jal-Garth. Each of them giving origin to a family from the Clan D.

Her family name, Drayce, means dragon. The animal being a symbol to her family crest.

Because of her great-great -grandmother, Celeste Drayce, who joined all the Red Line kingdoms she has a lot of titles. Her full title as the monarch being.

Her Imperial and Royal majesty, Queen Moh-Key from Marijoise, Empress of All the Red Land, Lady of the valley and the umbra, Guardian of paths and whispers, Dame of the Islands.

[isleofancients]

Bells glances reflexively at Huitzi and Umbra- clears their throat, and alerts their eyes. "er. a lot. yes." by the void, if those two knew they'd dropped by to visit the guy that overloaded Umbra with that much negativity, who also happened to be- "I still make time for nights out. we went to outerswap for ice cream not that long ago."

"...and I'm saying that assuming you know where that means," they reflect, somewhat ruefully. "I don't think you have one of those around here-"

a lot? like surprise vivisection, confrontations with would be gods, getting snagged from the temper of someone who could likely pick said would be god apart without trying, or who at least could have, previously- visiting the bottom of the sea, self contained dimensions of rot- dealing with Edwin's brother-

"but it's true, I have been busy," there may be a tight humor to the words, "I've gained an adoptive sibling, three wonderful partners, adopted a child," hesitating here, before adding, with a sigh, "and learned some things... that should have never been true. in multiple multiverses."

“We have outerswap bitties and from them, I can make a guess. as to what it'd be like” Dame nods, giving you another nuzzle while Huitzi and Umbra shoot you a slightly worried look. “I'm glad you're still taking time for yourself, dearie.”

She shuffles, settling you against her, making sure you're comfortable and very securely held.

“Congratulations on the good, little mist.” She smiles, and in the corner of your eye you see Huitzi perk up and purr. “Its always lovely to have your family expand.”

She hums, running a paw through your shadows like she's trying to soothe them into place.

“…would you like to talk about it?” She asks.

[mattskins]

Sobrio de ese viejo dolor embriagante que lentamente fue esfumandose. Parchando heridas recientes con besos silenciosos y pequeños retazos de amanecer. El es un relámpago plateado que le encanta aterrizar en mis entrañas. Y yo soy el sonido de sus tormentas, rugiendo entre sus piernas como una fiera embravecida. Cubiertos con el fino manto de la noche, nos escapamos del cementerio donde nos enterraron los cobardes, ignorando que no pueden matar a algo que nunca les perteneció.

Los espasmos caen como guillotinas. Y el cuerpo los agradece como una plegaria. Bienvenidos como la lluvia besando el desierto. Verdugos de la soledad. Testigos de la resurrección. Jugamos a los dados con Dios mientras hacemos el amor con la incertidumbre. Dame un minuto de tu eternidad y podrás saquear las bóvedas que escondo detrás de mis costillas. Entierrame en tu cama y seré tu estrella de la suerte. Tu pequeño souvenir. El nudo de tu horca. Soy tu musa rebelde y tu mí lienzo salpicado en éxtasis. Hagamos de esta obra la locura más retorcida que el cielo pudo haber visto jamás. Un salto de fé a las fauces de nuestras bestias y sueños febriles.

Ex umbra in solem

[sipsteainanxiety]

*context is trying to write a fanfic*

Me: *gets an awesome idea from scrolling on MHA TikTok that is featuring our resident blonde hot head*

Also me: *HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU WRITE FOR THIS ANGRY POMERANIAN?!*

I have two fantastic fanfics that I wanna write, but how tf do you write for him??

Maybe I gotta channel my inner Deku lol

tl;dr (bc this got much longer than i expected): bkg is an easy character to write for once you build your own interpretation of him, practice, consider how he would act in certain situations, & ask others for help if you get stuck!

LMAO yeah bkg is a piece of work to deal with. i still grapple with his character sometimes, just in terms of like.. okay, what would he say in response to x? how would he act?! i think "mastering" characterization comes with practice. or at least for me, i feel i definitely got better at writing him the more i did it

before i even started writing for him, all i did was read fics for him. idk how some people are just able to dive right into writing for a character without at least reading SOME fics for said character, they're on a different level frl. i just read and read and then read some analyses of his character. i also looked at authors who i blv wrote him perfectly and took inspo from that. of course, everyone characterizes him differently, has different interpretations of what he would or would not do in specific situations. but when writing fic i think it's important to just build your own interpretation.

bkg is a very complex character that changed a lot in the manga. so depending on what age he is when you write your fic makes a HUUGE impact on how his personality will be. high school bkg is rude and loud as hell. he comes off as aggressive, shouts a lot at his friends, and finds a lot of things to be below him. if his friends want to go to an amusement park, he will most likely not go (even if he wants to) unless they trick him into it or goad him by saying some shit like "he just cant stomach roller coasters lmao!" he is very short tempered, but we all know that already lol

but yet, we also know he studies a lot. he cares about his grades. he cares about how others see him, which is why the comment that he could be a villain hits him so hard. he's organized and he's still an all might fan no matter how hard he tries to push him away. he doesnt do well with any kind of affection at all, which, i think, has to do with the harsh way he was brought up. poor baby doesn't know how to express himself properly. my point is, there are things to him other than how loud and aggressive and rude he is that shows his personality: how neat he is. how meticulous he is when he cooks. how he wants to be the best at everything and will thus put all his effort in.

he does have his soft moments - moments where he's quiet and contemplative and aware of how his friends feel. he is very perceptive after all!! but these moments in hs - particularly early hs - are rare and we only see more of that bkg as he grows up. you could say that he's always had a soft side to him ofc, but it shows up more once he slowly realizes that he is not the best, and the people around him are not looking down on him and that he can rely on them for help.

adult bakugou, pro hero bakugou, tends to be much quieter, more thoughtful, in my opinion. of course, he's still aggressive. still shouts a lot. still gets irritated. still has high expectations for himself. still curses like nobody's business. still wants to do a majority of things by himself. but, if you asked him to go to an amusement park with you, he would simply huff and agree instead of saying no like he's got better things to do. adult bkg has likely overcome many of the obstacles he's faced as a kid and would no longer be a hero just to show he's the strongest. he would do it to save people no matter how much harm comes to his body - something he would've picked up from deku lol

i like to think he gets better with affection, platonic or not, and learns to accept it more as he grows. he's still a hardass, don't get me wrong. he probably still doesn't know how to deal with certain emotions (cough romance cough) properly. but he's trying, and that's what's important

on the surface level, you could probably write him as yelling, cursing, screaming, being stubborn as hell and that's it. but there's more to him than that and this is shown through specific actions of his or specific pieces of dialogue. for instance, that scene in season two where he fights uraraka and goes all out only to say "what part of her was weak?" after all the spectators were saying she was a girl & weaker than him etc etc. like this SHOWS he's more complex than just someone who yells and seems to not think abt his actions.

i could talk more about how i think he would be as an adult bc there's more to him, obviously. but basically i think my interpretation tends to lean to the softer side of how he is haha, while still making him competitive and rude as hell.

idk how this turned into my analysis of his character but anyways KJHSDFKD when writing him, you hv to consider certain factors and apply them to how you think bkg would react. for instance, if the reader is someone he's meeting for the first time he will probably be pretty short with them until he sees them as someone he respects. or someone he can trust. of course, depending on how they meet exactly, i can see him either 1) being rude to their face or 2) being a bit quieter. and then you gotta consider his first impression of the reader, like - does he see them as someone badass? someone gentle that can't be dealt with in his usual rough way? there are just a lot of factors lol and i can't cover everything.

there's also things like... how long has he known the reader for? because with people he's known for a while he knows he can behave in his usual rough way and they'll know it's all just a front he puts up. and depending on how close emotionally he is to this person will determine how much of that squishy interior of his he would reveal to them.

looking back on everything i've said here, there's just no solid way for me to explain to you how to write bakugou's character, i think. there are too many variables LOL. just getting a grasp of how he is, forming your own interpretation, and writing what comes to mind is a good place to start. you could ask others to help you with making sure his character is in check too! writing fanfic doesn't have to be a one man show, you know! getting help is also very sexy and cool B)

[l0st-signals]

How do you feel about trench coats? Also- my friends made a joke about the Thin Man the other day and called him a Thin Mint, and I can’t unhear it. I personally find it funny, but idk how he’d take to it. He’d probably try to yeet me and my friends out of existence for that joke xD

“I love trench coats, mines kinda worn out but im still rockin it<3”

GHAKSKSKS THIN MINT..- UR FRIENDS HAVE GLAXY BRAINS THATS HILARIOUS JSJSJD- also he’d probably punt y’all yeah<\3 // -mod canine

[monos-monologue]

Gasp! You got a 100 followers?! Who are you people? Jokes aside, welcome in new people! I wonder how mono feels about all these people coming out of nowhere?)

((Hopefully when I finish this Gif you’ll understand how he feels! I’m really excited to finish this in the next few days. But I’d say he’s a pretty happy camper right now!))

[ladyniniane]

Une rencontre dans la serre (Fire Emblem Three Houses)

Après Vigdis et Gladys , c’est au tour de Maeve d’avoir droit à son introduction ! J’espère que ça te plaira @lilias42 !

Note : l’air que chante Maeve est Homo Fugit Velut Umbra/Passacaglia della vita de Stefano Landi (qui a dit que le jeu se déroulait au XIIème siècle :P ?). Je me suis appuyée sur cette traduction en la modifiant un peu. 

Maeve enfila sa tunique et accorda le moins d’attention possible à ses cicatrices. Les souvenirs prisonniers de la chair n’attendaient qu’un regard pour s’échapper. Les plaies savaient se changer en bouches hurlantes. Chanter était alors la seule manière de couvrir les lamentations. Les paroles rassurantes la gardaient sur le droit chemin. Maeve avait confiance en sa voix, ce cri de révolte, cette flamme qu’aucun vent obscur ne pouvait éteindre.

Elle glissa sa baguette dans sa ceinture, puis dissimula son stylet. Enid lui avait appris à le faire surgir entre ses doigts et à frapper avant même que la cible n’ait réalisé la nature du tour de magie. Les points faibles du corps humain ne recelaient aucun secret pour elle. 

La magicienne frappa le sol du pied. « Cesse donc d’y penser ! S’admonesta-t-elle. Tu infliges ça aux autres en prime ». Pourquoi n’était-elle pas capable de trancher l’attache ? Le message était clair, son aînée leur avait tourné le dos. Son esprit insatisfait y revenait pourtant toujours. 

Maeve était de retour dans la cour de la maison. Le saule pleureur ondoyait sous le vent, Enid ferraillait contre les courants d’air. Ses yeux de jade étaient durs, froids et tranchants, sa lutte furieuse, désespérée. La plus jeune sentait la présence de l’ombre sans pouvoir la nommer et son sang se glaçait. 

Il avait suffit d’une nuit pour que tout vole en éclat. Les cris stridents d’Enid, ses cordes vocales sur le point de se rompre, résonnaient encore  dans ses oreilles : « Ils ont touché quelque chose en moi ! Tout le monde dans le voisinage dit que mon visage ne change pas ! Je dois savoir ! Je dois savoir ! ». Tante Nemain avait essayé de parlementer, à peine audible.  Maeve s’était recroquevillée dans son lit, sa poupée blottie contre elle, tétanisée.

Elle reconnaissait désormais douleur de sa « grande soeur », le nuage de ténèbres qui vous assombrissait parfois l’esprit, les démons qui vous tenaient compagnie dans la nuit. 

Les questions sans réponses s’alignaient, s’empilaient. Maeve se passa les mains sur le visage, frotta avec vigueur. De grâce ! Retour au présent ! Le luth l’observait depuis son coin de la pièce, la jugeait en silence. 

« Oh maman, songea alors Maeve, je ne suis pas devenue la personne que tu espérais ». Philomèle l’avait voulue raffinée, à l’abris du besoin, dame de compagnie de quelque grande maison, pourquoi pas. Pourtant, sa fille avait emprunté le chemin écarlate de la guerre, corps meurtri, main souillées. Elle cheminait parmi les cadavres, dans la boue et le sang, convoquait la mort d’un sortilège. C’était ainsi, l’on voulait toujours le meilleur ses successeurs. Maeve n’était pas une exception : « Si me bats, c’est pour que ceux qui viendront après n’aient pas à le faire ». 

Elle releva simplement ses cheveux en un épais chignon à l’arrière son crâne. Le pic qui les maintenait pouvait aussi servir d’armes. Les dernières rondeurs de l’enfance avaient depuis longtemps quitté son visage, son teint était crayeux. Il y avait dans cette substance perdue tout le prix payé. Vorace, la guerre prélevait son tribu, la métamorphosait. Peut-être continuerait-elle à s’étioler jusqu’à ce qu’il ne reste d’elle qu’un squelette, blanc et poli. 

Mais tous finiraient ainsi. Même la terrible impératrice d’Adrestia ne serait un jour que de simples os nus, semblables à ceux des ennemis qu’elle méprisait tant. Revigorée par cette pensée, la magicienne s’arracha à sa macabre rêverie.

-Oh combien tu te trompes

Si tu penses que les années

Jamais ne vont finir,

Il faut bien mourir…

La mélodie lui vint, à la fois défi, fatalisme, et elle la laissa distraitement franchir ses lèvres. 

Dernière étape maintenant. Maeve sortit la boite à maquillage de son tiroir. Il ne lui en restait que peu et elle peinait à s’approvisionner. L’entraînement aurait raison de cet artifice, mais peu lui importait. Seule comptait l’impression de normalité qu’elle retrouvait momentanément ainsi. Un peu de poudre pour redonner de la vigueur à son teint, du rouge sur les lèvres pour ramener de la couleur de son existence. Un vêtement bien choisi, un fard bien appliqué la faisaient aussi paraître plus âgée. Un tour de passe passe réussi en somme.

Pendant qu’elle appliquait les cosmétiques, la magicienne revint à Edelgard. Cette dernière devenait soudain beaucoup moins effrayante lorsqu’elle y pensait ainsi !

Maeve l’avait vue à l’oeuvre lors de la bataille de Gronder. La conquérante avait au début préféré la prudence et supervisé ses soldats depuis l’arrière. Voyant les hostilités se rapprocher d’elle, l’impératrice s’était alors portée au devant de l’ennemi afin de rallier ses troupes faiblissantes.

Parée d’un éclat aveuglant, reconnaissable entre tous au panache écarlate de son casque et aux dorures de son armure, Edelgard avait commencé sa macabre moisson. Maeve s’en rappelait comme un soleil gorgé de sang, une étoile corrompue, de mauvais augure. L’impératrice soulevait son lourd bouclier comme un simple jouet, maniait d’une seule main une arme faite pour être brandie des deux. Il se murmurait que sa hache était vivante et que son tranchant s’agitait, se refermait comme une mâchoire. Une arme animée d’une seule envie : dévorer les chairs ennemies. 

Maeve et les mages s’étaient alors préparés à l’intercepter. La jeune femme avait ignoré la douleur dans ses muscles, la pression à ses tempes. Mais une unité de sorciers impériaux s’était alors interposée. L’escouade de la jeune femme avait jusque-là avancé en étant couverte par les soldats lourds de Duscur. Cela avait alors été à elle de jouer les boucliers. 

Un échange nourri avait alors suivi. Lorsqu’un camarade tombait à ses côtés, il fallait poursuivre et se battre pour deux. Maeve avait dû l’apprendre, ne plus se précipiter pour les aider et briser la formation. Elle avait frappé de toutes ses forces, puisé dans ses dernières réserves avec l’espoir d’ouvrir la voie vers l’impératrice. 

Hélas, sentant le vent tourner, cette dernière avait fait demi-tour avec le restant de ces troupes.

« Si tu ne te sens pas faite pour te battre, avait dit autrefois Amalia, tu n’es pas obligée de continuer. Il faut de tout en ce monde : des soldats, des nourriciers, des artistes…et aucun n’a moins de valeur que l’autre ». 

Mais Maeve avait persisté, même si des progrès restaient encore à faire. « Le fer devient bien une épée sous les coups du forgeron, alors pourquoi ne puis-je pas moi aussi changer de nature ? ». 

L’émaciation n’était pas le seul changement subi par son corps. Elle était désormais plus souple, plus forte, plus rapide. Capable de survivre.

Ce fut sur cette dernière pensée qu’elle quitta la pièce. 

*

-Bravo pour avoir tenu tête à Felix, félicita-t-elle son amie lorsque celle-ci l’eut rejointe, ça c’est notre Vigdis !

L’ombre d’un sourire apparut alors sur les lèvres de cette dernière.

-Je l’affronterai de nouveau ce soir, annonça l’épéiste, et nous verrons. 

Son amie restait imperturbable, sa détermination froide, calculée, féroce. Doutait-elle seulement une fois la porte de sa chambre refermée ? Maeve se promit d’affronter un jour les dangers avec la même défiance. 

*

La journée s’écoula, à perfectionner les formations, à maximiser le potentiel destructeur des sortilèges. Sa rencontre avec la talentueuse Annette s’était révélé plus qu’utile. Maeve se rendit aux bains publics afin de délasser son corps, aussi fourbu que si elle avait passé la journée à agiter une épée. Des fourmillements courraient dans ses extrémités, elle massa ses tempes pour que la migraine ne s’y installe pas : des symptômes ordinaires après une journée passée à utiliser la magie. C’était parfois une affaire de dextérité, pincer la bonne corde pour en tirer le son adéquat. Mais la concentration fluctuait avec la fatigue. Le pouvoir se faisait anguille, il fallait alors le saisir, l’agripper et le contraindre. 

Maeve avait entendu des histoires de mages victimes de leurs propres arcanes dans le feu de l’action. Mais mieux valait ne pas y penser. Elle avait développé ses propres gestes et techniques, connaissait désormais bien les signes avant coureurs. Bien qu’ayant réchappé à Gronder, la jeune femme savait aussi que la véritable lutte se jouerait sur la durée. 

Elle avait plus que tout envie d’un répit. Vigdis était entrain de mener son duel. Gladys rentrerait bientôt de patrouille. Ses pas la menèrent vers la serre tandis que le monastère s’embrasait sous le soleil couchant.

La lumière se déversait à l’intérieur, transformait les vitres en sublimes vitraux et les fleurs en joyaux. Le monde  extérieur avait succombé sous un déluges de flammes rubis. Seul demeurait ce jardin, comme un espace préservé. Ainsi, il existait encore un peu de beauté dans ce monde brutalisé ! 

Maeve déambula sans destination précise, jusqu’à ce que son regard soit attiré par un groupe de fleurs à nulles autres pareilles. La magicienne n’en avait jamais vu de semblables. Leurs couleurs solaires, leurs corolles déployées et leur vivacité la captivaient. Etrangères en ce lieu, elles poussaient malgré tout avec orgueil. 

La jeune femme s’approcha alors. Et attira ainsi l’attention de l’homme qui s’en occupait. Maeve se souvenait de lui : c’était le meneur des lanciers de Duscur et le vassal du prince Dimitri. Il était probablement l’homme le plus grand qu’elle n’ait jamais vu et la dépassait d’au moins trente bons centimètres. Elle ne pouvait que se sentir minuscule en comparaison. 

Sa stature était de plus imposante, sculptée par les années de combat. Tout son visage n’était qu’angle durs, sa mâchoire forte. Nombre de cicatrices claires marquaient sa peau sombre : sur la joue, le front, la lèvre, le menton… Pour autant, son attitude n’était pas nécessairement menaçante. Son regard smaragdin restait pensif, interrogateur. 

-Bonsoir, lui sourit-elle simplement, je ne voulais pas vous déranger. Je regardais simplement les fleurs. 

L’inconnue lui était familière. Dedue comprit alors à la baguette passée à sa ceinture qu’elle était la courageuse magicienne qu’il avait vu combattre à Gronder. Le visage de ses souvenirs était déformé par l’effort, recouvert d’un masque de sang et de suie. La jeune femme s’était érigée en rempart, bras tendus devant elle, pied fermement ancrés dans le sol, déterminée à ne rien laisser passer. Impitoyable, elle n’avait manqué aucune occasion d’éclaircir les rangs ennemis. 

Sa physionomie n’exprimait pour présentement que le calme et une certaine distinction dans son maintien. Dedue nota qu’elle devait être un peu plus jeune que la moyenne de ses camarades de maison. Un sourire lumineux éclairait son visage délicat, lui creusait deux fossettes. Sa carnation était ivoirine, d’une pâleur peut-être accentuée par la fatigue, et ses lèvres pâles. Ses grands yeux curieux n’en paraissaient par contraste que plus sombres. 

Dénouée sur ses épaules, son épaisse chevelure était une rivière d’encre parcourue parfois de quelques vagues. Un rouge gorge, brodé avec beaucoup de talent et de soin au détail, ornait son escarcelle. Dedue songea que cela lui convenait bien.

-Vous ne me dérangez pas, la serre est à tout le monde, rétorqua-t-il simplement. 

Son ton était un peu froid, factuel, mais pas sec pour autant. N’ayant rien de plus à ajouter, le guerrier repris sa besogne. Il avait certes désormais l’habitude de s’ouvrir un peu plus en compagnie de ses camarades, mais ce n’était pas tous les jours que des inconnus engageaient spontanément la conversation avec lui.

Maeve l’observa, fascinée. Ses grandes mains auraient facilement pu ressembler à des battoirs, mais traitaient les fleurs avec une immense délicatesse. Les végétaux paraissaient si fragiles entre ses doigts ! Pourtant, son toucher n’était que précision, légèreté, sureté. Ce qui, couplé à l’impression de force tranquille qui émanait de lui, rendait le tableau étrangement apaisant.

La jeune femme se reprit. Il était inconvenant de fixer quelqu’un ainsi. Elle allait poser sa question et puis partir. 

-Je n’ai jamais vu de fleurs comme celles-ci, d’où viennent-elles ? 

-De Duscur, la réponse fila, tranchante, expéditive. 

Comme lui. Lorsque la tragédie n’avait été pour Maeve qu’une chose lointaine. Elle, sa mère, Enid et tante Nemain formaient leur petite nation dans leur maison reculée. Devenue adulte, la jeune femme avait toujours été horrifiée, glacée, par la brutalité des représailles qui avaient suivi. Toute une nation saignée à blanc, des familles pulvérisées, massacrées… et combien d’innocents dans le lot ? 

Elle imaginait ce que cela pouvait faire de voir son peuple ainsi mutilé, disséminé, de se retrouver déraciné au milieu d’étrangers hostiles, mais se doutait que ses pensées ne pouvaient pas retranscrire la réalité de cette torture 

-Elles sont très belles, complimenta alors Maeve en retour.

Et sa voix ne laissait transparaître que gentillesse et respect.

Dedue la scruta de nouveau, indéchiffrable, peu habitué à ce type de réactions. Il était toujours prêt à se blinder, à laisser les attaques glisser sur lui. Aussi la spontanéité de l’inconnue le désarmait-elle. 

-Merci, son expression s’adoucit un peu, et aussi pour votre aide pendant la bataille. 

Ce fut alors que le sourire de la jeune femme s’agrandit, brillant désormais comme un croissant de lune. Dedue se sentit alors gagné par une chaleur diffuse doublée d’un étrange trouble. 

-Merci à vous pour la votre, corrigea-t-elle, vous nous avez sauvé la mise plusieurs fois. Vous pouvez compter sur moi si nous devons de nouveau nous battre côte à côte. Par ailleurs je m’appelle Maeve Caccini, et vous ?

La réponse fut, comme à l’habitude, brève : 

-Dedue Molinaro.

Le silence qui suivit fut plus confortable. Maeve s’accorda encore un peu de temps dans l’atmosphère si sereine, comme un cocon, de cette serre. Mais elle savait qu’il était bientôt temps de retourner vers le monde extérieur. 

-Je vais vous laisser, annonça-t-elle alors, au revoir et, qui sait, à bientôt peut-être. 

Elle inclina alors la tête, comme en signe de remerciement, son regard était chaleureux, son visage rayonnait de reconnaissance. Dedue se demanda ce qu’il avait fait pour mériter cela.

La serre redevint silencieuse lorsqu’elle partit. Dedue se demanda presque s’il avait rêvé. 

[quartzwriting]

Okay, I need to get this out there. I absolutely love the way you write dr. strange. I recently found your page like 2 days ago, because I’m hyper fixated on this man hardcore. And I’m just glad I’ve found some fanfics for him. HE NEEDS MORE LOVE/ATTENTION. Also, I have plenty of ideas for him and one of them revolves around what if. I’ll send it in another ask so this doesn’t get cluttered <3

@dame-umbra OMG THANKK UU SOOO MUCH! He definitely needs more love! I would love to see any requests! I’ve got lots lined up but more are always welcome to give me inspiration. ALSO WHAT IF YESSS I WANT WHAT IF REQUESTS PLSSS

Also uni got busy so there hasn’t been too much time to write fics but hopefully I’ll be back with something new soon. Lots of Stephen fics to write so that’s coming up when my workload gets lighter!

[aurorawest]

Writer's Ask Game

@mareebird said she knew I’d do this and she’s right because I’m supposed to be writing, so obviously I’m going to procrastinate.

what’s your total AO3 word count?

1,242,544 words

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

21.

*cracks knuckles* Titan A.E., Darkwing Duck, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Atlantis, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Newsies, Enchanted Forest Chronicles, Re-Animator, LOST, The Office, Star Trek: Enterprise, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Wreck-It Ralph, The Starless Sea, MCU.

Things you can’t fine online anymore (if you ever could): Mulan, Prince of Egypt, The Lion King 2: Simba’s Pride, NewsRadio, Doctor Mordrid, and probably some other random things that I wrote little snippets of and never did anything with.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Real Asgardians of the Galaxy (MCU), They Change Their Sky, Not Their Soul, Who Rush Across the Sea (MCU), Sleight of Hand (MCU), Foundations (MCU), and Pulvis et Umbra Sumus (MCU).

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to every comment—I like to let people know how much I appreciate that they took the time to leave me one!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Do No Harm is pretty dang angsty. A lot of people tell me it made them cry.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have, though I don’t really anymore, unless you count Wreck-It Ralph as a crossover. The craziest one I ever wrote was a complete crackfic that @franniebanana I wrote when we were teenagers, called Doth 2, which...was a typo or something? It’s really stupid. But I still think of scenes from it and crack up.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yup.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Sure do! So much smut, haha. It’s...the sexy kind? I mean, hopefully? It tends to be what a friend refers to as ‘emo-porn’ because it’s always full of feelings, though once in awhile I write something Problematic™.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, a few!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

@mareebird and I are co-writing a Brodinsons road trip fic. And, see above, weird crossover with @franniebanana. We were also writing a DS9 dance studio AU at one point, lol. @windsett and I have written a couple things together—including an original novel that has stalled.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Loki/Stephen Strange

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Lol almost anything on my ffnet profile that’s incomplete. There’s some stuff from the 00s that I’m definitely never going to complete.

what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. Action, I’m told, even though it’s a pain to write. Romance. I think I’m good at writing complicated emotions?

what are your writing weaknesses?

Verbosity, letting scenes drag on because I’m enjoying writing the dialogue, self-indulgence especially where romance is concerned. I never feel like I’m very good at putting together a good mystery, and yet I keep writing fics that include them.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love doing it, though I always wish I knew more people who spoke other languages so I could actually check if my translations are correct. I do it more in my original fiction than my fanfiction.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles.

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I...honestly can’t choose. I think I’m proudest of A Full and Factual Account of Asgard. Hm. Maybe Sleight of Hand.

Tagging @bereft-of-frogs @thelightofthingshopedfor @adreamer67 @franniebanana @thegirlwholied @whatyoufish4 and anyone else who wants to do this!

[ultravioletqueen]

Ya era hora de que trajera la parte dos

Charlota arisbeth=claude frollo(el jorobado de notre dame)

Hay muchas cosas que charlota(antes de volverse umbra) coinciden con el juez frollo, los dos son figuras de autoridad corruptas,casi totalmente reprimidos sexualmente,orgullosos,crueles, cínicos, fríos y manipuladores.sinceramente considero a frollo de los mejores villanos de disney por lo crudo y realista que es.

Miss umbra=ursula(la sirenita)

Ya convertida en miss umbra comparte varios rasgos con ursula, ambas son astutas,mentirosas,extravagantes,con odio hacia cierta persona,se aprovechan de vulnerabilidad ajena y poseen magia muy poderosa.

Emiliano rosas=Miguel Rivera(coco)

Siento que tienen varias cosas en común,son de familias pobres,son latinos,sus creencias los metieron en problemas,tuvieron contacto con la muerte, fueron inocentes hasta cierto punto y tienen relación con el día de muertos.

Val pepper=bella(la bella y la bestia)

Val al igual que bella fue despreciado por ser diferente,fueron etiquetados como "raros" por hacer cosas que no están de acuerdo a los roles de género más tradicionales(bella leía y val cocina),ambos han interactuado con bestias(bella con el príncipe adam y val con múltiples espectros),los han tachado de locos por las cosas que han visto y les encanta leer(a bella cosas de aventuras y a val recetas de cocina).

¡Espero poder hacer pronto la parte 3!

About time i brought part two

Charlota arisbeth = claude frollo (the hunchback of notre dame)

There are many things that charlota (before going umbra) coincide with the judge frollo, the two are corrupt authority figures, almost totally sexually repressed, proud, cruel, cynical, cold and manipulative.I sincerely consider Frollo one of the best disney villains for how raw and realistic he is.

Miss umbra = ursula (the little mermaid)

Once a miss umbra, she shares several traits with ursula, both are cunning, liars, extravagant, with hatred towards a certain person, they take advantage of other people's vulnerability and possess very powerful magic.

Emiliano Rosas = Miguel Rivera (coco)

I feel that they have several things in common, they are from poor families, they are Latino, their beliefs got them into trouble, they had contact with death, they were innocent to a certain extent and they are related to the day of the dead.

Val pepper = bella (beauty and the beast)

Val, like Bella, was despised for being different, they were labeled as "weird" for doing things that are not in accordance with the more traditional gender roles (Bella reads and Val cooks), both have interacted with beasts (Beauty with the prince adam and val with multiple spectra), they have been labeled as crazy for the things they have seen and they love to read (beautiful things of adventures and val cooking recipes).

I hope to be able to do part 3 soon!

[d0lled-up]

Ah yes....school...

She thought to herself, while she walked along the streets of the pale city. She watched as some other....students...if you could call those small...porcelain dolls that are somehow alive...students. Anyways, Vari watched as some filtered through various places that where hidden to her.

She shook her head slightly, before she hid behind some boxes, to sneak upon one of the dolls.

"Hehehehe..."

She then jumped up as a surprise attack for one of the dolls, it jumping up a good distance in fright at the sudden attack, with it falling on the sidewalk and shattering on impact.

She frowned.

That was the problem with the dolls. Her pranks where over too quickly.

She rolled her eyes, before she made her way over to the school, with her passing the fenced off gate, then quickly passing the double doors in the process.

Vari knew that the hallways where trapped by those dolls, with the floor boards as pressure plates. She passed these hallways expertly and with finesse.

The girl had just gotten into the classroom before the bell had rung, saving her life from a beating from the long necked teacher that she thought was part giraffe. At least...to her she looked like one.

She quickly took her seat which was the in the first row on the left, right in front of the teachers desk.

@dame-umbra

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗣𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗗 , moving in an uncomfortable inhuman like manner as its icky horror of a head swiveled from side to side; Scanning the halls with its lifeless pitch black eyes. Right, class- His eyes darted to the bell; Joints clicking clacking together as the boy slid into the classroom and jumped into his seat, which was on the first row to the right, not an effort to be quite.

Though, He didn’t care, He was in all of its essence a reckless trouble maker; and at this point the teacher had gotten tired of trying to deal with him and his big stupid grin of sharp teeth plastered onto his fragile face. A hand snapped his jaw into place, a horrible ugly cracking sound erupting from him as he leaned back on the squeaky seat, that poor chair had seen such better days, rotting and looking like it was about to snap and collapse. But it lasted this long somehow.

After a few minutes of scribbling something he threw a crumbled up paper, ATTEMPTING to pass it to another doll child; But he seemed to cringe when it bounced off the kids head next to him. Did he really care though? No, not one bit, in-fact he found it amusing; But the other might not. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his hooked up overalls, he looked off to the side acting all innocent. You know; Like a liar.

[isleofancients]

they let her sniff, grateful that enough time, and enough shampoos, have passed to avoid her smelling Dwr's decay- or Green's, they realize suddenly, wondering if that's why the change this time, or if he was just going for optimal cuddling potential.

"I was with Green," they assure her, adding in soft promise, "and anywhere he is, is one of the safest places in the timeline-" not untrue, even if they weren't technically in the timeline? maybe? "-and he has a place he helps me tuck myself away when I need to decompress a little. I asked him to take me there. I had... a lot of feelings to sort out."

"I can understand that, dearie." She nuzzles, looking over at Green and giving him a thankful smile. He nods back at her and settles on the floor, squeaking as he is immediately flopped on by Umbra. "I'm glad he was there for you."

Dame chuckles and squeezes you again.

"You seemed very overwhelmed." She says quietly. "I can understand why. From what the boys have told me, you've been through a lot."

[askbittyerror]

She huffed, “Huitzilopochtli, after you eat I expect you to get some sleep,” Rökkr said in a sickeningly sweet tone. She walked over with drinks and food, “alright dearie?”

“I can’t, I have to work.” Huitzi sighs. “Moose is at the doctor today and Dame is off doing rescue work.”

“I coul’ help!” Umbra slurs.

“You are drunk.” Huitzi huffs, booping his nose.

“Uh, I could, maybe-” Gray starts.

“Please, you have the people skills of a particularly sharp rock. No.”

“What about me-”

“Ash, for the love of all that is pure no.”

[ritterum]

An Elegy for Myceneum

I. He met me on the motorway. The shadow of the manses slumbered behind him, April’s-breath and jasmine and poly-ylang hinting at the once-orchards within and in the languid breeze, his robes fluttering like day-dreary moths that wended their way through sullen haze that had forgotten its purpose and merely hung in the air, confused.

Trans flumen, the marmoreal white of long-dead roofs and domes gleamed. I thought it a fata morgana, almost, for how could one not see the encephalized city, mind-of-minds, its smoke-words emanating from the smokestacks and chimneys while the glut of humanity ferried its urges through and out (unwitting synapses, they). In this sunlight, they can be anything you wish. I was glad of the shade.

II. This is not the house of my birth, for my house is not run-down and forgotten, nor is it a den of decadence and iniquity. My memories are not contained therein, nay - my memories are mine alone and when recalled, are given life - are given leave to roam in this dead new world, such that one unfamiliar with the knowing would believe them born of this place, would believe them part of this space, as it was (so shall it always be). To this, the dame agreed. Behind the holo-projector, a young woman, red-haired as surprised to see me as I her. She wiped her hands on her apron, a smattering of stains against its checkered pattern, and then she fled, in her wake, the particulate gloom, ever thick. The empty corridors, its murals curtained in dust, rang with her presence Which way did she turn, Hierophant? Whither my sword? But the next room betrayed nothing, betrayed me The little bird mocking my presence with the patter of twigs, building its chassis in an obscured camera.

I was beautiful once, you know Said the lady, reclining on a chaise longue I wondered that the insects did not bother her, nor the sun mar her porcelain skin. The umbra, stood in the center of the patio, of ancient design (of simple design) posed no mean obstacle. Leave it, said she. The servant-girl wrecked it. The core was rusted over; a swift kick and no more. Madam, I began, but the clattering did not wake her. She faded into the faded colors of the day-bed, and the green tendrils of the boganvils wrapped her up and shielded her from injurious existence.

I was glad of the shade.

III. You, who laid these house-stones, you whose bones now here lay, I bind thee to me You, who exercised imperium, you who furthered boundless Myceneum, I bind thee to me You, who brokered stellar peace, you who broke that peace, I bind thee to me.

This is now the house of my birth, for my house is not run-down and forgotten, nor is it a den of decadence and iniquity. In it, there are fountains to salve the weary spirit, and gazebos to look upon the world. There are grottoes, where passing minstrels entertained, and passing folk partook of gentleness and comfort, and winds whistled through the trees. There are no ghosts in my house; no skeletons, or clouds; only the hint of something that could have been, but never was (so shall it always be).

[sipsteainanxiety]

Hey not sure if you know this yet, but there's a s6 trailer for MHA and its gonna start airing again in fall of 2022. IM EXCITED, and I just cannot wait. I guess I can start watching MHA again. (I stopped watching it part way though s3 because I didn't want to rush through the seasons and be left waiting for the next season jfjgmgm)

EYE-

THERES A TRAILER ALREADY?!

im ngl i only recently finished s5 LMAO i like to wait until the full season comes out before i binge. which means i avoid tumblr like its the fucking plague cuz spoilers 😭😭 maybe i should read the manga….