#le ciel live

[thetwotorches]

「ああ…こぼれ落ちる涙はお別れの言葉

何も聞かず、ただ僕の胸に手を当て微笑みを浮かべ

君の頬に口づけを…僕は君を忘れない もっと強く抱き締めて僕が空に帰るまでー 君の細く透き通る声が僕を離さない もっと強く抱き締めて僕が消えないように…

僕が消えないように…」

[fidjiefidjie]

Bon Soir 💙 🗽🎇🕊

Jairo 🎶 Les Jardins Du Ciel

[piasgermany]

[Album + Video] Delgres kündigen neues Album "Promis le Ciel" an!

Delgres sind zurück! Das neue Album "Promis le Ciel" erscheint am 16. Februar 2024 über [PIAS] Le Label!

Das Album erscheint zwei Jahre nach der Veröffentlichung von 4:00 AM, dem letzten Longplayer des karibischen Blues-Trios, das vor knapp vier Jahren zusammenkam, nachdem Songwriter Pascal Danaë den Schlagzeuger Baptiste Brondy und den Sousaphonisten Rafgee kennengelernt hatte. Die Band stellt im Wesentlichen ein persönliches Abenteuer dar, eine innere Reise, bei der die Musik als imaginäres, wenn auch lebendiges Vehikel für private Erfahrungen und die Familiengeschichte sowie im weiteren Sinne für das Schicksal eines Teils der Welt dient, der von Wurzellosigkeit und Identitätsproblemen geprägt ist.

Es ist bekannt, dass die Ursprünge des Blues in Afrika liegen und die Musik durch die deportierten Sklaven in Richtung Amerika gelangte. Delgres, benannt nach dem Freiheitskämpfer Louis Delgrès, berufen sich auf diese Wurzeln und würzen ihre Songs mit Elementen, die sich irgendwo zwischen hypnotisierendem Rock, verspielten Soul und rohem Garage einpendeln. Besonders auffällig ist dabei die ungewöhnliche Besetzung bestehend aus Gitarre, Schlagzeug und Sousaphon, die auch auf den neuen Songs hauptsächlich mit kreolischen Vocals unterlegt werden. Nach dem Titeltrack gibt es nun mit "Walking Alone" eine weitere neue Single.

Tracklist "Promis le Ciel": 01. Promis Le Ciel 02. Walking Alone 03. Pourquoi Ce Monde 04. A La Fin 05. Autorisation 06. Mettre Les Voiles 07. Pou Vou 08. Pa Lese Mwen 09. Samedi Soir 10. An Pa Ni Sou 11. Where Do They Go

Live: 24.03. Roth - Kulturfabrik Bluestage Booking: Jazzhaus Artists

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[hiancii]

The Little Prince

If you love a flower that lives on a star, it's sweet, at night, to look at the sky.

All the stars are abloom with flowers.

//

C’est comme pour la fleur. Si tu aimes une fleur qui se trouve dans une étoile, c’est doux, la nuit, de regarder le ciel.

Toutes les étoiles sont fleuries.

{Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince}

[mellosdrawings]

When you need to declare your love to your wife but it is so strong you can't help but revert back to french.

You know the perk of being french ? I can write Rook rambling haha !

(Though I am incapable of writing poetry, so here is the poem I used and its approximate translation:

Je respire où tu palpites,

Tu sais ; à quoi bon, hélas !

Rester là si tu me quittes,

Et vivre si tu t'en vas ?

(I breathe where you throb, you know ;

What for, alas! stay here if you leave me, and live if you go away?)

A quoi bon vivre, étant l'ombre

De cet ange qui s'enfuit ?

A quoi bon, sous le ciel sombre,

N'être plus que de la nuit ?

(What good is living, being the shadow of this fleeing angel?

What for, under the dark sky, being from the night only?)

Je suis la fleur des murailles

Dont avril est le seul bien.

Il suffit que tu t'en ailles

Pour qu'il ne reste plus rien.

(I am the flower of your walls for which April is the only good.

You only need to leave for me to be left with nothing.)

Tu m'entoures d'Auréoles;

Te voir est mon seul souci.

Il suffit que tu t'envoles

Pour que je m'envole aussi.

(You surround me with Halos;

I care only about seeing you.

You need only to take flight for me to fly too.)

Si tu pars, mon front se penche ;

Mon âme au ciel, son berceau,

Fuira, dans ta main blanche

Tu tiens ce sauvage oiseau.

(Should you leave, my front/forehead shall lean ;

My soul in the sky, its cradle, will flee,

In your white hand you hold this wild bird.)

Que veux-tu que je devienne

Si je n'entends plus ton pas ?

Est-ce ta vie ou la mienne

Qui s'en va ? Je ne sais pas.

(What would I become, should I not hear your steps anymore?

Is it your life or mine that is fleeing ?

I cannot tell?)

Quand mon orage succombe,

J'en reprends dans ton coeur pur ;

Je suis comme la colombe

Qui vient boire au lac d'azur.

(When my thunder dies down, I take some from your pure heart ;

I am like the dove that just drank in the azur lake.)

L'amour fait comprendre à l'âme

L'univers, salubre et béni ;

Et cette petite flamme

Seule éclaire l'infini

(Love makes the soul understand the universe, healthful and blessed ;

And this lonely little flame shines upon the endless)

Sans toi, toute la nature

N'est plus qu'un cachot fermé,

Où je vais à l'aventure,

Pâle et n'étant plus aimé.

(Without you, all of nature is only a closed cell where I go on an adventure,

Pale and no longer beloved.)

Sans toi, tout s'effeuille et tombe ;

L'ombre emplit mon noir sourcil ;

Une fête est une tombe,

La patrie est un exil.

(Without you, everything falls apart ;

Shadows fill my dark eyebrow ;

A feast/party is a tomb,

The homeland is an exile.)

Je t'implore et réclame ;

Ne fuis pas loin de mes maux,

O fauvette de mon âme

Qui chantes dans mes rameaux !

(I beg and demand ;

Do not flee any longer from my pain,

O warbler of my soul who sings in my twigs!)

De quoi puis-je avoir envie,

De quoi puis-je avoir effroi,

Que ferai-je de la vie

Si tu n'es plus près de moi ?

(What could I want?

What could I be afraid of?

What would I do of life without you by my side?)

Tu portes dans la lumière,

Tu portes dans les buissons,

Sur une aile ma prière,

Et sur l'autre mes chansons.

(You carry in the light,

You carry in the bushes,

On a wing my prayers,

On the other my songs.)

Que dirai-je aux champs que voile

L'inconsolable douleur ?

Que ferai-je de l'étoile ?

Que ferai-je de la fleur ?

(What will I tell to the fields that hide my inconsolable pain?

What would I do of the star?

What would I do of the flower?)

Que dirai-je au bois morose

Qu'illuminait ta douceur ?

Que répondrai-je à la rose

Disant : " Où donc est ma soeur ?"

(What will I tell to the morose forest that illuminated your softness?

What will I answer at the rose asking "Where is my sister?")

J'en mourrai ; fuis, si tu l'oses.

A quoi bon, jours révolus !

Regarder toutes ces choses

Qu'elle ne regarde plus ?

(I would die ;

Flee if you dare.

What is the point, days gone! of looking at all those she no longer looks at?)

Que ferai-je de la lyre,

De la vertu, du destin ?

Hélas ! et, sans ton sourire,

Que ferai-je du matin ?

(What would I do of the lyre, of virtue, of destiny?

Alas! And, without your smile,

What would I do of the morning?)

Que ferai-je, seul, farouche,

Sans toi, du jour et des cieux,

De mes baisers sans ta bouche,

Et de mes pleurs sans tes yeux !

(What would I do, alone, wild, without you, of days and heavens,

Of my kisses without your lips,

And of my tears without your eyes!)

Il suffit que tu t'envoles pour que je m'envoles aussi - Victor Hugo

(You need only take flight for me to fly too))

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 1 - Sous le ciel de Paris

MASTERPOST | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Welcome to the start of my new multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Please note that while I do have a plotted outline, I will be posting chapters as I write them, and I expect that process to take quite a few months. Please bear with me! This first chapter sets up the story - reader moving to Paris in the summer of 1939 and bonding with her new flatmate, Eloise Bridgerton. Please note that Benedict won't be turning up for a couple of chapters yet. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

August 1939

Emerging from the underground Trocadero metro stop, you round the corner of the recently completed, gleaming Palais de Chaillot and stop dead in your tracks. There before you is the most iconic landmark of Paris. Perhaps all of France.

La Tour Eiffel. 

Breathtaking in its metallic magnificence, glowing in the setting sun. A sight that buoys your travel-weary soul seven days after you left New York: boats and trains finally bringing you to this wondrous spot. A light breeze even dances over your neck in greeting, a balm from the cloying subterranean heat of the metro. 

It's a light elbow check to your arm that pulls you back from a state of reverie. 

“A beautiful sight, but one you’ll get used to,” your uncle Robert chuckles, shaking your heavy leather case to indicate it's time to move along. “In fact, I've been told you will be able to see it from your appartement…” 

He has accompanied you to Paris and will see you settled into your new adventures before continuing on to visit friends in England. He spent the roaring 20s living right here in the 16th arrondissement himself and, indeed, has arranged for you to share living quarters with a young British lady, a relative of his English friends. It's a comfort to know you’ll have at least one English speaker to chat with as you dive headfirst into learning proper French as you go.

Robert leads you away from the amazing sight and into the bustling streets, alive with cars, trams, bicycles and pedestrians buzzing in all directions. It's all at once like New York City, but yet so different as well, cafe terraces filling the wide pavements with all manner of people gathered to sip robust cafe au lait and refreshing limonade. 

Within minutes, you are on a quieter side street and stopping outside a handsome honey-coloured stone facade with wrought iron window balconies and window guards, teaming with colourful, fragrant flowering pots. The number 14 gleaming white on a traditional navy blue tile. Your uncle pushes the enormous wooden door open, beckoning you into a cool whitewash wall corridor with mosaic floor tiles.

“Ahhh, Robert!!” a sophisticated middle-aged lady bustles from a nearby doorway and greets your uncle warmly, kissing both cheeks. It would appear they are friends of old.

“Y/n, this is Madam DuLac, your landlady,” he explains as you offer a handshake, admiring her boucle jacket and chic bun.

“Qu’est-ce?” she signals with a good-natured frown, obviously finding your polite greeting lacking, pulling you into a hug and two-cheeked kiss. She smells like Chanel perfume, cigarettes and baked goods. “You are in Paris now, ma chérie; this is how we greet one another,” she counsels in heavily accented but perfect English.

“You speak English?” you sigh, relieved, your French decidedly lacking.

“Bien sûr,” she smiles. “And please call me Solène,” she adds with a friendly smile.

“Eloise should be home from the library maintenant; the perfect time for you to meet,” she gestures towards an elevator cage surrounded by a sweeping grey marble staircase.

“I think I would prefer to take the stairs,” you admit, nerves flaring at the idea of such a contraption.

Your uncle laughs. “Well, I am taking it; I am not hefting this case of yours up five flights of stairs,” he adds dryly as you gaze up the swirling stairwell.

“Five storeys?” you squeak.

“The view is the best from the top,” Solène advises as she rattles back the cage entry and steps in, looking at you expectantly. 

Reluctantly, you follow, all three of you and your luggage crammed into the metal cage as it jerks to life and begins its ascent.

“You will get used to it,” Solène smiles as she reads the apprehension on your face, your vice-like grip on your small vanity case and handbag.

Luckily, the lift reaches your destination safely. One shudder before it stops, and the door concertinas back in Solène’s hand to reveal a sweeping hallway with doors left and right. 

“Ici,” she signals, the last door on the right-hand side.

But before you can knock, the door peels open, and a pretty, petite brunette jumps in surprise, dropping the book she is holding.

“Pardon,” she offers in perfect accented French, and you wonder for a split second if it is the correct apartment.

“Eloise, this is y/n,” Solène gestures.

“Ohhh, hello,” she grins, and the whiplash back to a plummy British accent is momentarily confusing. “I was about to go read in the courtyard, thought you might not be turning up today. Anyway… come in, come in!”

You shake her proffered hand as she ushers you into the apartment. Instantly, you feel a warmth spreading in your belly, like you have come home. It's light and airy, with large windows looking out across the Parisian rooftops, and yes, to the left is indeed the Eiffel Tower, still gleaming in the fading evening light. But the place also feels homely, that sort of messy that is lived in, comfortable. A large velvet sofa with tumbling stacks of books around it, a little kitchenette awash with colourful enamel cookware, and a jumble of art deco posters and random paintings adorning the walls. 

“Solène, I don't suppose you've baked any more of those rather delicious madeleines, have you? To welcome my new housemate?” Eloise pipes up with a chipper, conspiratorial wink your way. 

You already like her.

“Effronte!” Solène exclaims with fond exasperation before pausing. “There may be some…”

“I remember those!” your uncle adds with a tinge of nostalgia as he drops your suitcase. “You are in for such a treat, y/n.”

“Well, while our landlady decides if she’s willing to share the treats she has obviously baked but is being coy about…”Eloise raises a pointed eyebrow at the woman before returning to you. “...let me show you your room, then maybe a drink? I'm sure it's been a long journey.”

You nod and, with an exchange of grins, follow her down a corridor. She sweeps open the door to a lovely room, a large double bed with matching bedside tables and a dresser. But best of all, french doors onto a Juliet balcony overlooking a quiet courtyard filled with a riot of birch trees, their leaves gently rustling in the evening breeze.

“Mostly, it’s pesky pigeons down there, but you do get the occasional blackbird singing in the morning,” Eloise smiles as if intuiting your thoughts.

You spend some moments wandering the room and checking out the various fixtures, running idle hands over the furniture, already feeling remarkably at home with your new housemate and, indeed, your new home for the next twelve months.

“I'm just next door,” Eloise reveals, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. 

Your uncle appears in the doorway to announce that he and Solène are off to catch up as you unpack and suggests you all reunite for dinner later at a local bistro. It all sounds so very Parisian chic; you cannot wait.

“So tell me about yourself,” Eloise flops onto your bed, already wonderfully casual in your presence, as you open your case and the wardrobe to unpack.

“I’m y/n. I'm from a little town on Long Island called Patchogue, about fifty miles outside New York City. I'm 22…”

“Me too!” she interjects, then signals for you to proceed.

“I wanted to see the world before I settled down. And I’ve dreamed of living in Paris since I was a little girl...” You feel your eyes misting at the fact it's now finally coming true as you continue. “So my parents agreed to pay for me to come to Paris for a year. Under the strict agreement, I get married when I return…” 

“You have a fiancé?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. Stanley. We practically grew up together, and we’ve been going steady since we were eighteen.”

“Going steady? That's so American,” Eloise chuckles.

You nod with a giggle, then continue. “He hasn't proposed formally yet, says he is saving up for a ‘real nice’ ring, but it will happen. He is the son of my dad’s business partner. They run a construction company. So, while I'm here, they are building a home for us to live in when I return. We will get married next summer and move right in.” 

“You don't mind?” Eloise frowns.

“Don’t mind what?” you query as you hang up your favourite dress.

“That your future is so… plotted out. I couldn't bear the idea. It's why I think my mother let me move to Paris. She was so fed up with me refusing to settle down.” Eloise laughs, idly flicking through the magazine you were reading on your journey.

“I suppose I've never really expected anything else,” you shrug, pausing as you put away your hosiery, but her words make you contemplative. “You don't have a boyfriend back home?”

“God, no. Too many pretty Frenchmen to entertain me here,” she winks. “I’ll introduce you to some, just in case you change your mind,” she breezes, climbing off your bed and drifting to the door. “Wine?”

“Oh… well, why not? When in France, etc,” you agree and close the drawer on the pile of cardigans you have just safely stacked.

“That's the spirit!” she effuses over her shoulder as you follow her back into the living room, the Eiffel Tower still glittering in the dusk.

“This place is so lovely,” you sigh, transfixed by the view as she wanders over and hands you a glass.

“It is a pretty magical view,” she agrees, staring at the skyline with you, watching as each window seems to illuminate in soft yellow with the dying light.

“And the decor, too; I see you love books as much as me,” you smile, tilting your head to the piles before taking a sip of red wine. It's the perfect balance of refreshing, mellow fruitiness and tart tannin coating your tongue, so much better than any wine back home.

“Oh god, yes! I work in the library. I can bring home as many as I want,” she enthuses.

“So, are there actually any left on the shelves?” you jest, lightly, savouring your drink and wandering to take a closer look at a smaller painting that catches your eye. It's very different to all of the others.

“My god, this is beautiful,” you breathe, hugging your wineglass to your chest as you stare transfixed at the art. It appears to be a large country house, probably British, bathed in the warm pinkish light of dawn.

“That's home. Aubrey Hall in Kent. I think the family made me bring it in the hopes it would make me homesick,” Eloise deadpans.

“It’s a wonderful piece,” you breathe, fingers reaching out to lightly trace over the heavily oiled brushstrokes. Something about it is so captivating and intimate.

“I'll be sure to let the artist know,” she smirks. “Although I'm reticent to give him any more praise, seeing as, unfortunately, he is my brother.”

“Your brother painted this?” taken aback by the revelation, assuming it an heirloom.

She nods and comes to stand next to you. “Yup. Benedict. Second eldest. I'm fifth of eight, by the way. Hence ‘E’ for Eloise. It's a thing,” she rolls her eyes.

“Wow. Big family. I just have one brother...” 

“Lucky you. Although, as much as he is irritating, if I could only keep one sibling, it probably would be him,” she admits, taking a swig of wine.

“I love art,” you sigh, finally tearing your gaze from the canvas but already knowing it is something you will return to again and again. A pull you can’t quite understand.

“Oh, then I know the perfect job for you! There’s a gallery around the corner from the library, and I saw a sign saying they wanted an English speaker to assist international visitors! You would be perfect!”

“I would love that!” you extol, even as a tiny part of your brain lingers on the idea that it would be too good to be true if it all worked out, that fleeting sense of foreboding in paradise.

“Excellent!” Eloise’s enthusiasm pulls you back to the immediate. “So let’s get your glad rags on! It's time to hit the town for your first night in Paris!”

And thus, you find yourself being bundled back into your room to refresh and change for your first night in the city of your dreams. Indeed, as you find yourself being led by Eloise, arm looped in yours, through the bustling evening streets to a little bistro, your uncle and Solène already waiting at a table with smiling faces and drinks in hand, you can't help but feel this really is the only place in the world you could ever want to be…

Your adventure is just beginning.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[jumexju]

LE CIEL

Pairing !! : Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader

Fic Type !! : Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn, Part ii here.

CW !! : Mentions of war, violence, suicide, pining

Summary !! : After 15 years of marriage, the story of how you two met is finally told.

Note !! : This is part of my 'Married Life' Series. I thought it'd be cool to tell the story of how Madara and reader met so I could kinda explain their relationship in 'Shape of my Heart' & further their dynamic :3 There will be a part 2 btw

✦ MASTERLIST

“Do you think this war will continue on forever?” The stars shone upon your heads while the moon bathed the lot of you in its ethereal light. 

“.. I dunno.” The boy beside you answered. “I only wish there was a world where we didn’t have to fight all the time.” His spiky black hair tickled your arm but you didn’t say anything. You wanted to etch these moments with him into your memory. You’d live only in your memories if you could. 

“So do I.” you sighed and hugged your knees to your chest while you glanced at your brother's friend. You’d met him only recently because the boy had noticed you following Hashirama when he went out to the river to meet with him. Who knew you’d share their beliefs? It was rare to find that nowadays when people just seem to kill each other over differences they had long forgotten. 

Whenever your father asked you two if you’d seen anything while you were out, Hashirama and yourself became tight-lipped and said a simple, 'No, father.’ 

Because the both of you knew, 

That a friendship with the member of an enemy clan could never prosper. 

“You are but a weak woman, why has Hashirama let you out of his sight?” Madara looked upon you with disdain, as if your very presence here was an offense to him. Your eyes narrowed at him as you assumed a defensive position, “You’ve always been so prideful with your words! Tell me, is it because you’re afraid, Madara?” The words hurt to say as they came out of your mouth, your hands over one of your comrades as you hoped to heal him. The younger version of yourself wouldn’t have been surprised at the fact that the next time you’d meet Madara was on the battlefield. 

Hashirama knew this would happen. You knew it too. 

The both of you hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, but it did. Your dreams of a war-free world were shattered to oblivion the day your father attempted to ambush Madara while Hashirama had gone to the river that day. Now, Hashirama has become the clan head of the Senju and Madara, the clan head of the Uchiha. 

There was no way that there could be reconciliation now, none that you could see at least. 

Madara’s younger brother, seeing you in the middle of trying to heal one of your comrades, took this opportunity to come at you. Luckily, Tobirama came in to defend you. As your brothers — and the rest of your clan — fought with the Uchiha, you healed as many fallen shinobi as you could. You were one of the best healers, but that could never stop the bloodshed. 

As you looked upon the scores of dead bodies on the battlefield, both Uchiha & Senju alike, you wondered what it was all for. They had been at each other's throats since before the time of your fathers, was there even a reason that the two clans were fighting? Or was it all just blind rage? You kneeled down to the corpse of an Uchiha Shinobi when you saw that her hand had been held into a fist, of course, her grip on it was loosened now that she had been slain. 

You felt nothing but sorrow when you opened her hand to see a bracelet with a single crystal on it. 

A ruby. 

A small tear escaped your eyes as it dawned on you, ‘She was someone’s family..’ You had been part of the war, there was blood on your hands too. You knew that they were just like you. Human beings that had families, just like you. You gripped the bracelet in your hand frustratedly before placing it in the woman’s palm and closing her hand. 

This needed to stop. 

With the swift slash of a sword, Tobirama made quick work of Madara’s younger brother, Izuna Uchiha. 

“Izuna!” Madara sprinted towards his brother, his eyes filled with worry at seeing his brother injured by none other than your elder brother, Tobirama.  

“You cannot win against me, Madara..” Hashirama donned an expression that was both determined and anxious. “So, Why don’t we end this.?” 

Your eyes widened at your elder brother’s proposal. You knew that Hashirama still believed that peace was achievable between the Uchiha and the Senju — but to ask Madara straight to his face? After his brother had just been injured by your own brother?? Just what was he thinking? Your eyes were fixated on Madara and Izuna, not knowing what their next move would be. 

As soon as Hashirama finished talking about his ideas for peace, Izuna spoke up to his elder brother. “No, big brother..” Izuna pleaded, “Do not be deceived by them..” And because a brother’s word is more valuable than the words of an ex friend, Madara heeded his brother's word by throwing a smoke bomb and retreating along with the rest of his clan. 

Peace would not be achieved that day. 

The days after the encounter, your hope was diminishing more and more. But you couldn’t give up. Your brother wouldn’t either, though Tobirama was more cautious of him. Tobirama understood that Hashirama and you still saw the little boy from the river, but he couldn’t wrap his head around why you two tried so hard to make peace with him. However, as long as his siblings held a hope for peace, Tobirama would support the two of you as much as he could. 

Soon enough, the day came when you would meet Madara face to face alongside your brothers. You noticed that Izuna was not among the Uchiha and your heart ached for Madara. He wouldn’t show it, but you knew he was hurting. 

You could also tell that there was something different about Madara.. His eyes. They had changed.

“My little brother ended up dying from that day’s wounds..” Madara began to speak, his tone laced with venom. “..Leaving me with powers that will protect the Uchiha!” Faster than you could comprehend his words, a giant blue phantom-like creature made from Madara’s chakra alone, arose from the ground. But this did not shake Hashirama, nor you. 

“I sent you a ceasefire agreement!” Hashirama reminded his old friend, “If you truly want to protect the Uchiha, let's stop fighting!” Before you could even say anything, Madara’s voice resounded throughout the battlefield. 

“Hashirama! How long will you keep saying such juvenile things?!” His long black hair swished in the air, he was confident that today, he would avenge his people and most importantly, his brother.

Unfortunately for him, the battle ended with his back on the ground, Hashirama kneeled beside him. 

“Madara, You’re finished..” Tobirama glared at him, his sword just inches above Madara. 

Your eyes widened and you quickly sprinted over to where your brothers were, “Tobirama, Wait!” You worriedly shouted, hoping he’d hear it despite your distance. You didn’t notice Madara’s eyes flickering over to you. Hashirama backed you up saying, “Wait, Tobirama.” But this would not deter your elder brother. 

“Why, Elder brother?! This is our chance!” Tobirama spoke passionately, clearly ticked off by the words that came out of your mouths. Why were you so opposed to it? If he just ended Madara right here and now, the fighting would end! Couldn’t the two of you understand??

Hashirama glared up at his younger brother, “No one touches him.” Hashirama had never been one to yell, but at this moment you could tell it was critical. Tobirama lowered his sword, withdrawing upon hearing his brother’s words. He wasn’t shocked to find you kneeling next to Madara, opposite to Hashirama, and waiting for Hashirama's command to begin healing his injuries. 

“Hmph, Just get it over with, Hashirama..” said the Uchiha, “It would be an honor.. ..to die by your hand.” His words tore your heart to shreds. He was so ready to give his life up.. Did he really not see any other way? Before you could shed any tears of frustration, Hashirama began to speak. 

“Quit the posturing. If I kill the clan head like this, the younger Uchiha who follow you shall run amok again.” Hashirama tried to make a point, but Madara quickly refuted it. 

With sorrowful words, Madara spoke, “There isn’t anyone left with such pluck among the Uchiha-” 

“No, there is always someone.” Your elder brother’s tone was confident. “Can’t we just skip stones again, like in the olden times? Together..” Your expression softened as you listened to your brother's words. Those days seemed so far and yet, you held them so close to your heart. Just as he did. You looked down at Madara, feeling the strings of your heart pull as you looked upon his tired visage. 

“That’s not possible, you and I are no longer the same.” Madara spoke with such finiteness. As if his words were the solid truth and the conversation was to die there. It made you frustrated because you believed in the hope that you pursued alongside your brother for so long. “I don’t have a single brother left.. and I just can’t trust you.” You slightly winced at the mention of his brothers, remembering how he had told you he was one of five.. You’d be a liar to say you didn’t empathize with him since you'd lost two brothers to the war already.

Hashirama looked at his former friend with the last glimmer of hope in his brown eyes, “Is there.. no way I can convince you?” You searched Madara’s face, your expression brightening when he mentioned that there was one way.

But your face fell once you heard his next words. 

“Either kill your brother.. Or kill yourself, right now.” Madara looked upon their shocked expressions. He heard your breath hitch and saw how your two brothers froze. “..And then we’ll be even.. I’d be willing to trust your clan.” 

You ripped your gaze away from Madara and looked into your brother's eyes anxiously. Of course, you should’ve known by now that he would not kill Tobirama. So the only option was.. To kill himself. So with a smile, your eldest brother got up and began to take off his armor.

“Thank you, Madara. You really are kind hearted.” You were confused, Just what the hell was so kind-hearted about this..?

“Big brother, don’t do this..!” You pleaded. You stood up, worried at what your brother would do. 

“Listen Tobirama, _____… Carve into your heart these final words of mine,” Hashirama began as he took out a kunai. “Words that I shall be exchanging with my life. You too, my fellow clan members.” Your heart was racing and you could feel your nails dig into the skin of your palms. You had to hold yourself back or you’d rip the kunai from your brother’s hand. 

“After my death, do not kill Madara. I forbid any fighting between Uchiha and Senju.” Your elder brother instructed, “Swear this right now, upon our fathers and yet unborn children!” You met Tobirama’s panicked eyes. It wasn’t often he demonstrated emotions in front of the enemy, but this was different. Hashirama really was going to kill himself. “Farewell!” Your brother said with a smile. 

“Brother, No!” You reached out to Hashirama but Tobirama stopped you. “Wha.. What are you doing, Tobirama? He's really going to do it!” You pleaded with your elder brother. It was then that you had seen that he was just as worried as you were yet, he didn’t move an inch to stop him. You saw a single tear escape the eyes of your dear elder brother and you could feel your heart breaking in two as you held onto Tobirama’s sleeve to ground yourself.

This was your brother.

The one who had protected you from enemy clans since your youth. The one who trained you to become stronger so you could fend for yourself. He taught you the ways of a medic ninja and helped you master the art. He was the one who helped you hope for peace when you had none..! Tears flowed from your eyes, you had never imagined a world in which you would live without Hashirama.. And now..?

As your brother moved to plunge the kunai into his heart and end his life, you witnessed Madara spring up and grab onto his hand before Hashirama could end his life. You let out a breath you had been holding in and your grip loosened around Tobirama’s sleeve. What was he doing?

“Enough..” Madara spoke. Hashirama looked just as surprised as you did. “I.. have now seen your guts.” 

Madara acknowledged your brother for the first time in years. This was a sign of times changing, and for once you realized that peace really was achievable. That for the first time in ages.. The Senju and the Uchiha would be at peace. 

There would be no more fighting. 

The moments that followed after seemed so surreal to you. 

Seeing Madara shake hands with your eldest brother to signify that there would be peace between the two clans gave you an unimaginable sense of peace and satisfaction. This had been the result of years of your shared hope coming to fruition and you couldn’t be more joyful. 

Now, both Uchiha and Senju were building homes alongside one another. Uchiha children played along with children of the Senju clan and there was no amnesty between the two of the most powerful clans, but instead peace. 

“It’s different, huh?” You walked up to your old friend with a small smile on your face. You hadn’t been able to talk to him much due to all of you being busy with getting Konohagakure established among the other nations, but this afternoon was one of the rare days you were able to get some rest. 

“Very.” His long black hair swayed in the wind. You stood next to him upon the cliff where the two of you could see all of Konohagakure. You could see the small village that was beginning to form, nothing but joy could fill your heart at the sight of it. 

“How are you? It’s been a while since we last.. Talked.” you spoke calmly. 

“...We achieved all that we wanted.” Madara’s words were true but ..something was off. 

You snuck a glance at the man beside you, his expression holding too much emotion but none that was visible. “Are you happy?” you asked him genuinely. 

“.. I suppose I should be.” Madara let out a sigh, deciding to sit down and watch the sun set before him. 

“So you’re not.” You murmured while you knelt down to sit beside him. The leaves on the trees swayed serenely as the wind blew through them. 

“Izuna would have..” Madara trailed off. He hated the way his old habit of letting his tongue slip around you had resurfaced so easily. You see, Madara was a man of few words whenever it came to his feelings. But whenever he was around you, it was like his tongue had a mind of its own and began disclosing more about himself than he intended to. “.. I suppose this is what all your hope has led to. Are you happy?” 

You let the wind softly caress your face as you contemplated your next words. “I’m happy that Hashirama’s dream has become reality. But..” You smiled to yourself, feeling Madara’s intense gaze on you. “My dream has yet to become reality.” 

“Was this not your dream?” Madara asked curiously. You turned to look at him, admiring how despite the both of you growing older, he still resembled the little boy from the river from years ago. 

“It was one of them,” You admitted, “But my dream is something a little more selfish.” 

Madara gave you a look of confusion. To him, you were anything but selfish. Of course, you weren’t perfect either, you too had killed members of his clan.. But you were more pure than most, he supposed.. “Selfish? How so?” 

“I..” You chuckled and hugged your knees to your chest, “It’s embarrassing.” Madara gazed at your form, clearly this time. He remembered how whenever you seemed to have a lot on your mind, you would hug your knees close to you, as if to grant yourself comfort from the chaos in your mind. Old habits die hard, he guessed. 

Madara scoffed, “You’ve fought with me on the battlefield fearlessly but you won’t tell me your dream because of a little embarrassment? How laughable,” Madara’s taunts were something you secretly missed. His witty remarks and confidence were something that had not changed throughout the years clearly. 

“That’s..!” You sighed, “Do you really want to know that bad?” You rested your chin above your knees and looked out to the settlement in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know, now would I?” Madara stole a glance at you, looking at the way the light of the sunset washed upon you. He didn’t know what your next words would be, but he certainly did not expect it to be,

“My dream.. Is for you to be at peace.”

[swifty-fox]

My current favourite MOTA AUs (in no particular order) which have made me laugh and melt, kept me sane, and allowed me to live vicariously through two WWII war hero pilots:

To the Moon and Back (space is angsty)

That Ol' Devil Called Love (racer boys and oppressed Gale)

Sous Le Ciel de Paris aka the Olympics au (i like sports now!)

meet me at the chapel (bonnie and clyde baby)

Young Vets series (MOTA supporting cast get their own stories and they're wonderful)

Tough and Sweet (Like You and Me) (age gap)

whisky neat, coffe black (I need to see Bucky in a fireman suit)

High School AU (cos childhood sweethearts are forever)

All that skill and joy shared for free - it's magic - I love the MOTA fandom

SIGNED OFF ON ALLL OF THESE I HAVE READ (or wrote hehe) THEM ALL

shoutout to them all @avonne-writes @rambleonwaywardson @middlingmay @johnslittlespoon @anachilles @bcolfanfic and i'm throwing in @joeyalohadream's highschool au too!

[xinfinityl0ve17]

MALICE MIZER

After leaving the audience in suspense, Kami took the microphone and in a surprise twist the members reappeared, intensifying the final moments. In response to the huge cheers the encore saw the five members take the stage in military uniforms, waving a naval ensign. It’s rare to see a band that can pull off such a wide variety of costumes... I couldn’t help but think how much fun they must be having as I was completely overwhelmed by their high energy stage presence and performance.

The following day, on the 11th, they performed on a stage titled The Door of the Blank Moment. The show began explosively, with special effects firing off immediately at the start, and the band, dressed in glossy enamel costumes, launched into an aggressive and high-energy performance, reminiscent of the later half of a set. I was once again stunned, realizing that this was yet another way to kick off a show. I had heard that the two days would be completely different... but I didn’t expect them to be this different.

The second song, ILLUMINATI, began with a shout of "Come at me!" and during the song, Gackt shoved Mana onto a sofa? The sight of Mana and Közi's suspiciously close interactions elicited screams, leaving everyone fixated on their movements.

While Yu~ki didn’t display any flashy movements, his intricate rhythms and occasional melodies shone through. In the fourth song, Le Ciel, he descended from the stage set to perform front and center. Every little movement from them was captivating, and during the middle of the set, each member had their own moment to shine, pulling the audience into their individual worlds.

Just like the previous day, Gackt’s highly charged MC led the show into its second half. Sweet, yet somehow melancholic melodies... these enchanting songs brought color to the latter part of the concert.

The encore that day was especially memorable. The members appeared one by one, dressed as the characters from the video Bel Air, each stepping out in their respective roles. It was a surreal sensation, as if the fictional story in the video and the real-life story unfolding on stage were blending together. The five of them gathered on stage in those costumes and, as a parting gift to the audience, performed the final number, of course, Bel Air.

Their stage was a world filled with countless elements: beautiful things, grotesque things, pure things, mysterious things, frightening things, nostalgic things, new things... an endless variety of wonders. It was a world that transcended conventional concepts and couldn’t be confined within the usual boundaries of a live performance. For those two days, we were able to fully immerse ourselves in their unique world.

[carnevol]

What are some of your favorite fics or authors for Clegan? I seem to recall you doing a few edits for fics you liked so I was wondering ❤️

oh yes, dear anon, I can rec a few awesome Clegan authors! I'll link a couple of their fics that I loved but basically EVERYTHING they write is phenomenal:

@avonne-writes Reverie is a masterpiece and the HS AU is my comfort fic. Oh and kitty Gale is the sweetest thing ever!

@rambleonwaywardson To the Moon and Back I'm obsessed with it, an epic love story ♥️ Sous Le Ciel de Paris Olympics AU is so beautiful, too.

@alienoresimagines I built a home and I'm On The Run With You, My Sweet Love such a gorgeous, poetic writing style!

@stereobone in our bedroom after the war, my man, my doll and after that beautiful BEAUTIFUL writing!

@anachilles i feel so high school and whiskey neat, coffee black obsessed with this one!

@joeyalohadream in this and every life, i'd choose us every time and A feeling I want to get used to lots of hurt/comfort and sweet fluff

@nicijones I Like A Bad Boy boys in college SO GOOD!

@hogans-heroes The Boy Who Lived and All the ways some angst but the boys are so in love

@swifty-fox Little Beasts ❤️‍🔥 and eudaimonia the sweetest outlaws!

Piece by Piece I don't know the author's tumblr but this story is SO good and so much fun to read

@brotherwtf writes lots of prompts and oneshots, SO much good stuff!

I feel like I'm forgetting some authors and there are many amazing ones I still haven't had the chance to read their fics yet so if anyone wants to add to this list please do! ❣️

[saintfelina]

powdery perfumes are a staple across all age ranges, because powder is one of the first category of scents we come in contact with. baby powder, baby lotions and even bath oils scent our early lives, and because of this we often reach towards powdery scents as a source of comfort. funnily enough, despite the social connotations we rarely associate powdery scents with "old lady" the way we do florals, instead they're linked too childhood, innocents, and comfort.

what makes a powdery fragrance? well simply put: powdery notes. a sort of synthetic note to give that dry smell. but powdery perfumes can also be created with heliotrope, iris (orris) root, violet, aldehydes, musk, vanilla and even rose.

le parfume poudré is a delicate powdery scent. it's slightly sweet from the vanila and givess off a very innocent and angelic aura.

loves baby soft is a classic baby powder scent. it smells exactly like baby powder and nothing else. simple because it doesn't need to be complicated and my very first perfume.

guerlain insolence smells like violet candies. but more than that it smells like sweet breath after eating violet candies and thats 100% a positive. a classic scent that has had countless bottle changes and is absolutely signature scent worthy. it's soft yet it has a great sillage that is easily recognizable without being overdone. perfect for those who are dreamy and romantic.

ombre rose by jean charles brosseau is a vintage, powdery, boudoir-esque scent. it's the scent of an underage choir girl seeking her big break in a haze of makeup, bouquets sent by suitors, and the tender coziness of baby lotion underneath. it sits close to the skin but lasts a decent amount of time. very delicate and feminine.

j'ai ose baby is unique in that its a warmer, richer powder scent with its ambery drydown. its the combination of wearing a more 'grown up' lotion under a baby powder scent. it has a fruitier opening with the raspberry that plays off it's unlisted spicy notes. very intriguing.

teite de neige is a more elegant powder, she's the beloved choir girl, the star of the show and the opening act. super luxurious, and leans more vintage without being dated. old hollywood glamour.

ciel is another 'baby' baby powder. its sweet and vanilla with a powdery dry down and comjures up images of girlish innocence. a great after bath scent that makes you feel clean and cozy.

not your baby lives up to its name, this is a powder that wants to be more assertive but still has some of its childish dreams. it's a little more sultry and clings to the skin for a decent amount of time.

une histoire de femme sensuelle is a creamier powder. it's more lotion under freshly powdered skin and brings to mind both nivea cream and baby powder all at the same time.

[yermes]

PAC: how do you do it all? How can you be healthy, workout regularly, have job(s), have enough money and financial literacy to move through life, eat well even in the stress of it all, how do you take care of yourself (one of the most magical things you can do) in the face of all the pain in the world? 🃏

Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. My ask me event is still going and asks are always open 🥰

Socials: Podcast | Follow me!

Pick a meme

1 2 3

The cards

dissension 🃏

Le despote africain

The government is fucked up, like literally almost everywhere nothing seems to be going right and its overall a huge looming concept that we either try to ignore when we can, or relish in the small victories we choose to pay attention to. Political awareness is something that should be unmoving in our lives but honestly its such a hell scape I know many people who try to duck and hide. But hiding and ignoring won’t further us. We need to be aware of the hate and the injustices so we can teach the next generation of what not to do even if history has a tendency to repeat itself. More to juggle.

Appui 🦜

Les oiseaux les poissons

Babe try and find your safety net, your protection circle. In the most trying times your squad will always come to your most desperate calls and our tenderness for each other is how we stay above water in the world we live in.

Dépouilement

Le ciel

FUCK! As if juggling everything isn’t enough! The weight of juggling has taken a massive toll on your mental and physical health. Try and take a break every now and then investing in your self, and like I said in the beginning: taking care of yourself is the most magical thing you can do.

Extras:

Story/vent:

Ask me event still going to the 16th! Asks are always open

[crepesuzette2023]

New fic: Eyes of the Storm

John lives AU. 2024. John goes to a private opening of Paul’s EYES OF THE STORM exhibition. Everyone comments on how sweet and soft Paul’s pictures of him are. Using the pictures to guide him, John reflects on the past of his and Paul’s long and complicated love…and in the end, he and Paul have to decide where to take the next chapter of their story. 

Inspired by: Jacques Brel, Ne Me Quitte Pas, especially this part:

On a vu souvent / Rejaillir le feu / De l'ancien volcan / Qu'on croyait trop vieux / Il est, paraît-il / Des terres brûlées / Donnant plus de blé / Qu'un meilleur avril / Et quand vient le soir / Pour qu'un ciel flamboie / Le rouge et le noir / Ne s'épousent-ils pas? / Ne me quitte pas / Ne me quitte pas / Ne me quitte pas / Ne me quitte pas

[We've often seen / Fire flowing again / From an ancient volcano/ Considered too old / It's said that there are / Fire-scorched lands / That yield more wheat / Than the best April / And when evening comes / With a burning sky / The red and the black— / Are they not joined together? / Don't leave me / Don't leave me / Don't leave me / Don't leave me]

(Fill to this prompt from the @beatleskinkmeme.) Read on ao3

[manawari]

Extra thoughts from my Happiness AU. Although it is centered around Jinhae, I'd like to share other characters and their roles:

Baek Yoon-ho, a divorced man who was fighting for his two-year-old daughter's custody.

Choi Jong-in as Baek Yoon-ho's lawyer. They were discussing about the trial when the government declared quarantine in the entire apartment, thus the two men were stuck with each other. Well, Jong-in was hesitant at first, but Yoon-ho insisted as he wanted to thank Jong-in for helping him.

Min Byung-gyu was an aspiring history teacher and was about to take his exam when his life was flipped upside down.

Lee Eun-seok, an electrical engineer who lived with his girlfriend, Park Hee-jin. Their relationship was put into a challenge as the Mad Human Disease scattered in the apartment.

Lee Ju-hee, a friendly and sweet neighbor of the couple who was tested to her limits as she found herself surrounded by monsters. More or less, the lives of people were in her hands.

Park Hee-jin, who had just began her work as an EMT fell into a hell that was worse than saving people's lives at the same time and it was up to her on how to survive, as well as keeping herself alive.

Yoo Jin-ho. Jin-woo's best friend through thick and thin. He too would face the biggest challenge in his life that would soon lead him into questioning everything. also Sirka's babysitter.

Lim Tae-gyu was the average unemployed guy who got dragged into a tremendous mess and eventually found his new purpose.

Kim Chul, the obnoxious neighbor who was willing to throw people under the bus. He was also the person who accused Hae-in of being an infected due to that scar on her wrist.

Lee Min-sung as the heir of the Seyang Forest Le Ciel. His father had left the apartment to his hands. Now, ever since the quarantine began, Min-sung's true colors began to soar and he intend to use every advantage he possessed.

Go Gun-hee was a politician who had unexpectedly received the Mad Human Disease, but was kept and chained in a secluded room as he waited for the cure.

Woo Jin-chul as the lieutenant colonel who was trying to develop the vaccine to cure Go Gun-hee, his grandmother, and the rest of the infected.

Sirka was the little girl under Jinhae's care after her mother was left outside where the authorities couldn't let her inside. However, despite being separated from her mom, she found family in Jin-woo and Hae-in, who cared for her like a daughter while being fake married.

[lamargee]

One does not simply listen to Le Ciel without their heart being torn apart and then gently stitched back together (and don't get me started on the live version bro was GOING THROUGH IT and I can feel it 🥲)

[mochademic]

100 Days of Productivity [Day: 27] || 100 Jours de Productivité [Jour: 27]

rain in the morning makes me nostalgic for when I lived on the coast. I adore that first crisp breath of air when you open the door. being curled up by the fireplace or in front of a window; the grey sky and the deepening shadows.

today I finished course work, added to both the essays I've been working on, & started working on a few new jewelry pieces for an upcoming collection.

currently listening // Joan of Arc. by Barnes Blvd.

La pluie le matin me rend nostalgique de l'époque où je vivais sur la côte. J'adore cette première bouffée d'air frais lorsque vous ouvrez la porte, me blottir près de la cheminée ou devant une fenêtre, le ciel gris et les ombres qui se creusent.

Aujourd'hui, j'ai terminé mon travail de cours, ajouté aux deux essais sur lesquels je travaillais, et commencé à travailler sur quelques nouvelles pièces de bijoux pour une collection à venir.

chanson // Joan of Arc. par Barnes Blvd.