#une balle un mort
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ilmondodishioren · 8 months ago
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Ciao sensei Toriyama. 💔
Oggi avrei voluto fare il solito post polemico per ricordare al mondo che la donna non è “donna” solo oggi, ma tutta la vita, tuttavia stamattina sono stata sopraffatta da questa notizia e non ho parole… Qualcuno di voi ha mai sentito parlare di Dragon Ball? Ebbene Akira Toriyama era il suo creatore, un artista che è riuscito a dar vita a una saga che continua ad emozionare generazioni da…
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zvaigzdelasas · 6 months ago
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Hello, not sure if you saw what happened, but in Kanaky (New Caledonia) the indigenous Kanaks started protesting against a French law that just passed in France where it would become easier for French settlers there to vote in elections - meaning pro-independence parties would lose even more support as obviously most of its votes come from Kanaks themselves and not French people. A young Kanak was murdered by a French settler and now the government claimed it was "self defence". Kanaky has military checkpoints that indigenous Kanaks have to go through everyday..
The article (in French): https(:)//la1ere.francetvinfo.fr/nouvellecaledonie/violences-en-nouvelle-caledonie-un-mort-lors-des-affrontements-sur-un-barrage-1488275(.)html?Version=mobile
Article on The Guardian: https(:)//www(.)theguardian(.)com/world/article/2024/may/15/new-caledonia-protests-law-constitution-changes
15 May 24
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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year ago
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salut j'espère que vous allez bien j'adore vos histoires de lecteur shinobu x et je voulais vous demander si vous pouviez faire une histoire de lecteur shinobu x fem où kanae n'est pas mort et shinobu a son vrai caractère et que pendant l'histoire, shinobu et le lecteur sa rivale pour voir qui est le meilleur tueur de démons ou juste le meilleur dans l'ensemble, qu'ils se taquinent constamment mais que shinobu a toujours une longueur d'avance sur le lecteur et que d'une manière ou d'une autre ils finissent en couple à la fin (merci donc beaucoup si vous acceptez ma demande et sachez que vous êtes mon écrivain shinobu préféré <3)
You’re My (Sparring) Partner
Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader
A/N: I don’t know any French so I hope Google Translate didn’t let us down too bad. Quick plot introduction: Kanae lived, Shinobu’s her good ol’ grouchy self, and she and reader are always competing to see who is better. Some bumps in the path before they finally end up together because Shinobu is stubborn. Thank you for the request. Espérons que vous apprécierez! Word Count: 4,340
“I killed two demons last night.” (Y/n) shared with a bit of pride over breakfast that morning, subtlety looking over the rim of her cup at Shinobu as she drank, before putting the cup back down with a quiet click. “I made very clean cuts too, that’s what you said, right? Kanae-sama?”
A quiet laugh left Kanae’s lips before she nodded, “Yes, you certainly are improving. I’m very proud.”
Shinobu rolled her eyes, her teeth lightly grinding together before she added, “Well my record in one night is four. Two isn’t that impressive.”
“Oh yeah, well—“
“Shinobu, (Y/n), please no bickering at the table. It’s a little early to be playing this game, don’t you think?” Kanae sighed.
“It’s not a game, Neesan.” Shinobu refuted, matching (Y/n)’s glare.
This rivalry had been going on for years. Ever since Shinobu finally accepted that she wasn’t fit for Flower Breathing and decided to cultivate her own breathing style and (Y/n) had wormed her way in to train under Kanae as a Tsuguko, the spot that should have been Shinobu’s by all accounts. It had left the girl bitter and looking for just about any excuse to show (Y/n) how much better she was than her. Even now as a Hashira herself, she still hadn’t been able to quite let go of that initial disappointment and start a new chapter.
Of course, (Y/n) didn’t take Shinobu’s challenges sitting down. She had earned her spot within the Butterfly Estate, but the only one who remained unconvinced was the one person she wanted to impress almost more than the Flower Hashira herself.
Ever since (Y/n) had met Shinobu, she hadn’t thought of her as anything short of brilliant. She took every curve ball life had thrown her way and found a way to hit a home run every time. Not able to decapitate demons, she made a special poison that could kill them anyway. Not suited for the more mainstream breathing techniques, she created her own. Not to mention her speed and mastery over Total Concentration Breathing Constant was nothing to sneeze at either.
To be acknowledged and accepted by Shinobu was all she really wanted and she was willing to do anything to prove her worth. She would compete with Shinobu until she earned her respect.
“Yes, it’s a very serious matter, Master.” (Y/n) agreed, smirking at Shinobu’s scowl.
“Well then take it outside. You are making poor Kanao nervous and I’m sure the other girls don’t appreciate the hostility brewing between you two either.” Kanae said, motioning to the group of girls around the table who did indeed just wanted to eat their breakfast in peace.
“Fine.” Shinobu’s hands slapped against the table as she got up. “I could go for a spar, how about you? Or are you still too sleepy from being up past your bedtime?”
“I recall you waiting up to greet me last night. So I’m sure we have the same advantage.”
“As if I was waiting for you. I had questions for my sister about our medicinal ingredient supply shipments.”
They bickered and taunted each other, even nudging and shoving each other as they made their way out the door. Kanae gave another tired sigh.
“Why can’t those two just get along?”
***
Shinobu flung a wooden sword at (Y/n) who was luckily paying enough attention to catch it before it smacked her in the face and quick enough to immediately retaliate.
“Readysetgo!” Thwack!
It was a dirty tactic to begin a spar without allowing enough time to at least get in a proper starting stance, but Shinobu had anticipated the swipe and blocked it easily.
“Can’t even catch me off guard properly.” Shinobu taunted.
“Who said I trying to?” (Y/n) asked with faux innocence, blocking Shinobu’s counter strike, “I gave you fair warning. Did you feel like I was trying to catch you off guard? In that case, maybe I did catch you a bit off guard after all. My apologies.”
Shinobu sneered, then jumped back. With the weight behind Shinobu’s block gone, (Y/n) was suddenly pushing back against nothing but air. She stumbled forward as Shinobu advanced, turning sharply behind her, wooden sword already swinging towards its intended target.
(Y/n) had been burned by that little maneuver once before and she wasn’t going to give Shinobu the satisfaction of a second. She continued to fall forward, kicking her legs up into the air when her hands came in contact with the ground. She could feel the displacement of air roll over her back, Shinobu had followed through with her strike and missed!
With all the force (Y/n) could muster, she torpedoed on her palms, attempting to catch Shinobu’s face with her foot, but Shinobu quickly cocked her head to the side and dropped her sword to the ground so she could brace her hands at (Y/n)’s ankle and knee. With a smirk, she twisted (Y/n)’s leg, and kicked out (Y/n)’s arms from under her, forcing her to the ground completely.
Before (Y/n) could attempt to scramble to her feet, Shinobu planted her foot firmly to the center of her back.
“That was an entertaining little display.” Shinobu cooed. “Where did you pick that up from? Weird boar boy?”
“Just get off of me already.” (Y/n) groused, she attempted to hit Shinobu’s ankle, but was not quite flexible enough to do more than brush against the offending foot.
“I didn’t hear you say you concede.” Shinobu knelt down, one knee in the dirt by (Y/n)’s side, foot still on the disgruntled Tsuguko’s back. She cupped a hand around her ear and got in real close, “Say it nice and loud so I can hear you, okay?”
So humiliating! (Y/n) stormed through the mansion after her devastating defeat to lick her wounds in peace. Shinobu always seemed to be one step ahead of her! Of course she was a Hashira, more skilled and practiced than (Y/n) was, but as a Tsuguko to the Flower Hashira, she should be able to last more than five minutes with Shinobu in a spar!
“Hey, everything okay in there?” Kanae had knocked on the door, “I see Shinobu is gloating again.”
(Y/n) opened the door to let Kanae in. Then she flooped back down on her bed and sighed.
“Master, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can’t you train me any harder? Or at least teach me all of your sister’s weaknesses?”
Kanae giggled, taking a seat on the edge of (Y/n)’s bed, “I don’t think that would be very fair. She would be angry with me for weeks, maybe longer. She can sure hold a grudge. As for training, I can only teach you so much… especially now that I have these Mount Natagumo spider slayers that are in need of a rigorous medication program in order to return to normal. I just don’t have the time to train you any more strenuously than I already do.”
“Oh…” though (Y/n) was already laying flat against the bed, she somehow seemed to sink further with her mounting disappointment.
“But there is something we could possibly do while Shinobu and I work on healing the spider slayers.”
(Y/n) perked up a bit, “What?”
“Mitsuri, the new Love Hashira. We got to become aquatinted at the last meeting. She’s a very sweet girl. It would probably do you both some good to train together. It would give Mitsuri a jumpstart on teaching experience and you would get tutelage from another Hashira. Seems like a win-win, doesn’t it?”
“Can you really set that up, Kanae-sama?” (Y/n) was sitting up now, much more excited.
“I don’t see why not. I’ll write her a letter an ask her if she’s busy. She can stay with us for a couple of days and over see your training until the spider slayers are more obviously on the mend.”
“Thank you, Kanae-sama!”
Things might just start looking up! She’d show Shinobu just how strong she could become!
***
Mitsuri was very sweet, almost too sweet. If (Y/n) wasn’t such a well-disciplined Tsuguko, they wouldn’t have gotten anything done. But for as green of a Hashira as Mitsuri was, she was incredibly strong! Maybe even more so than Kanae. Her actual teaching could use work, but (Y/n) felt like she was learning a lot and it was only the first day of three that Mitsuri would be available. She was going to really give Shinobu a run for her money the next time they decided to cross swords. Speaking of,
“Kanroji-san, what are you doing here?” Shinobu had happened by an open door and heard (Y/n) laughing, looking up from the stack of patient files she had in her arms, she had not expected to find her sparring with Mitsuri of all people.
“Oh, hi Shinobu!” Mitsuri loosened her hold on (Y/n) to wave at Shinobu, “Kanae asked me to help pick up on (Y/n)’s training while you guys are working hard with all of your new patients. I’d say things are going pretty well so far!”
“Surprise attack!” (Y/n) tried to pull Mitsuri to the ground. Mitsuri bent forward a little bit, but mostly stood her ground.
“Hey!” Mitsuri giggled, quickly switching the hold to put (Y/n) on the ropes instead, tickling (Y/n)’s sides to make her laugh and beg for mercy.
Shinobu wasn’t sure what it was, but she was not a fan of this new development. (Y/n) never laughed with her like that when they sparred… and why would she! Shinobu didn’t give a damn beyond adding another win to the score board. But they did look like they were having fun… getting along so quickly after only just meeting too… ARGH!
“Try not to go too hard on (Y/n), Kanroji-san. She’s fragile.”
(Y/n) gave Shinobu an annoyed look, “I am not. Kanroji-san can be as rough with me as she needs to be if I’m ever going to be a Hashira one day too.”
“That’ll be the day, won’t it?” Shinobu grumbled.
“I’m sure you’ll make a great Hashira one day (Y/n)! It would be so nice to get to see you more often.” Mitsuri beamed.
“That would be great!”
“That would be great.” Shinobu mocked under her breath as she walked away, the sound of the other girls laughter grating against her ears.
When she re-entered the infirmary and slammed the papers down on the table, Kanae looked up and observed her sister.
“What has you all broody?”
“I’m not broody.”
“If you say so…”
Kanae refocused her attention to the wiggly spider slayer in her arms. It was hard getting them to swallow their medication without giving them her full attention.
“Why didn’t you ask me to help (Y/n) with her training?” Shinobu suddenly spoke up after a few minutes.
“Hm? I figured you would rather do literally anything else. Besides, you’re helping me take care of all these new patients… Did you want to help (Y/n)?”
“No.” Shinobu answered hurriedly. “I just don’t think she and Mitsuri are taking the training seriously is all.”
Kanae looked at Shinobu from the corner of her eye and took note of her disgruntled expression. Such a cute, pouty frown. Kanae moved in to the next patient, a smile growing across her face as a sense of clarity came over her. She wondered just how long her stubborn little sister could hold out before her jealousy overtakes her pride.
Apparently the very same day.
“Kanroji-san, her stance is all wrong, see?” Shinobu had butted in between the two of them after Kanae had sent her off to eat lunch, but of course she could not simply walk past Mitsuri and (Y/n) when she had noticed (Y/n) stance was so blatantly off-balance.
“Oh! I guess you’re right Shinobu.” Mitsuri agreed.
“Stand with your feet further apart.” Shinobu mumbled, kicking (Y/n)’s foot further out, then twisting (Y/n)’s waist and adjusting the way she held her arms up and her grip around the practice sword.
Honestly, (Y/n)‘s stance was perfectly acceptable without Shinobu’s knit picking, but Shinobu had to find some excuse to put space between (Y/n) and Mitsuri. Why that was? She didn’t dwell on an answer.
“There, you feel that pull?” Shinobu asked and (Y/n) blinked back to life, having had gone somewhere else as Shinobu had gently pushed her body into place.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I feel it.”
“Good.”
Shinobu looked for every opportunity she could to step in. Only stopping when Kanae came looking for her and scolded her for letting Aoi’s lunch for her grow cold. She did end up eating with (Y/n) and Mitsuri though, which was good because… well, just because!
She squeezed between them at the table, getting gradually more annoyed as they talked over her head. She did manage to find one way to get (Y/n) to remember she was sitting right beside her.
“You have rice on your face.”
She reached out to brush her thumb over (Y/n)’s chin, coming away with a couple grains of rice.
(Y/n) blinked and subconsciously lifted her hand to her chin where her skin still tingled from Shinobu’s brief touch, “Oh… thanks.”
“You two are so cute!” Mitsuri sighed dreamily, “How long have you guys been together?”
Both (Y/n) and Shinobu’s heads snapped towards Mitsuri.
“We are not together!” They shouted in unison, startling Mitsuri.
“Ehh, really? I could have sworn… Just they way you two acted around each other today, I thought you might be a couple. I’m sorry if I made it awkward.”
“I’d rather cut off my own hands.” Shinobu scoffed, then she was startled by a heavy thump beside her as (Y/n)’s fists hit the table.
“Do you really have to go that far?” (Y/n) hissed, shooting up to her feet, “I’m so sorry the idea of being with me sounds so awful to you that you’d rather mutilate yourself. If you really hate me that much, then why don’t you leave me the fuck alone!”
“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy, do you?” Shinobu snapped back before she could think better of it, as was the risk being as hotheaded as she tended to be. She regretted it very soon after.
“All I ever wanted was for you to acknowledge me, to praise me just once instead of shooting me down. I thought competing with you was the only way to make you see me, but it only seemed to make things worse between us.”
She quickly rubbed beneath her eyes to catch any stupid tears that slipped over her resolve.
“Well, I know now that it will never happen so I’ll stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine. And that means quit budging in on my training with Mitsuri!”
(Y/n) took Mitsuri by the arm and Mitsuri gave Shinobu an apologetic look, taking the rest of her plate with her as (Y/n) dragged her off.
“That probably couldn’t have gone worse if you tried.”
Shinobu snapped her attention to the other set of doors that lead outside. They slid open to reveal Kanae, who simply waltzed in as if she hadn’t been eavesdropping pretty much the whole time.
“What does it matter?” Shinobu spoke sharply, “I’ll finally have some peace around here.”
“You could have had a perfectly peaceful three days while Mitsuri was keeping her busy, but you couldn’t even last one without her.”
“Oh great, you thought we liked each other too, didn’t you?”
“If you would stop getting in your own way for a minute, you’d know it’s true. You two have always been trying to prove yourself to each other in some way, just not always the best way. Like it or not, you are each other’s drive to do better.”
Shinobu opened her mouth to argue, but Kanae have gave her a warning look before continuing on,
“I hope you two will realize your being silly and work this out before too long. If anyone here really needs peace from your overstayed rivalry, it’s me,” she teasingly ruffled Shinobu’s hair, “For now, I need your help back in the infirmary.”
With an annoyed grunt, Shinobu followed Kanae back to the infirmary. All the while she ranted within her mind. Everyone in this mansion was delusional. The only feelings she had for (Y/n) were ones of annoyance. But when she passed by the open door near the infirmary again and saw (Y/n) and Mitsuri cuddled up together in the grass, her heart betrayed her mind by pounding against her chest. Almost as if to burst right between her ribs and flop in the grass until it finally reached its destination. If Shinobu wouldn’t go to (Y/n), it would reach her on its own.
“Keep walking, Shinobu~” Kanae lightly warned, “If you want your peace, you must leave them be.”
Shinobu grit her teeth and continued off to the infirmary despite her heart’s protests. This is what she wanted, her heart would just have to deal with it.
***
The healing of the spider slayers was going much slower than anticipated. To Shinobu’s very much internal dismay, Kanae had asked Mitsuri if she could stay just a few days more, maybe a whole other week. For a moment, Shinobu thought things would finally go back to normal because Mitsuri simply couldn’t get anymore time away, but then Kanae suggested she take (Y/n) with her to keep training her until the spider slayers were closer to being cured.
To Shinobu’s dismay, both Mitsuri and (Y/n) found the idea favorable and the left together sometime that afternoon when Shinobu was busy making more stupid spider medicine.
“You seem to be grinding those herbs extra hard,” Kanae had noted, “I’m sorry, had I known you wanted to see them off, I would have come to get you, but you wouldn’t want to miss out on any peace and quiet, wouldn’t you?”
Damn her, Shinobu thought. It didn’t matter if she got to see (Y/n) off or not. She’d be back before she knew it, and in a way she was right, but not in the way she wanted to be.
Only two nights after (Y/n) had left with Mitsuri, she was being carried back in by the frantic Hashira that had taken her, bloody and unresponsive.
“I’m so sorry, Kanae!” Mitsuri cried, “I got distracted during the mission and didn’t notice right away that (Y/n) had been lured into an ambush pursuing a fleeing demon. She fought them off as long as she could before I could get to her, but… I feel awful! I didn’t know what to do, will she be okay?”
“Sit, Mitsuri,” Kanae soothed, “you got her here as fast as you could, that’s what matters. Let me take it from here—“
Shinobu pushed passed Kanae to (Y/n)’s cot, “This isn’t the time for talk, we need to get to work, now!” She demanded angrily.
“Shinobu,” Kanae warned, “if you want to help, you have to calm down. You won’t do her any good if you let your brashness cut corners.”
Shinobu continued to peer down at (Y/n)’s battered body and try as she might to quiet her boiling rage to a simmer, she could not. She was furious. Furious at the demons, even Kanae and Mitsuri to a lesser extent, but most of all she felt angry with herself. If she wasn’t so attached to her pride and stubbornness, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe her last words to (Y/n) wouldn’t have been so harsh. What if she died before Shinobu could apologize?
“Shinobu, leave.” Kanae made the difficult call upon seeing her sister’s wide-eyed distress, but Shinobu shook her head, refusing to let go of (Y/n)’s hand.
Kanae exhaled sharply, there was no time for this. She wasn’t going to lose her Tsuguko because of her sister’s guilty hovering.
“Shinobu,” the harsh tone made Shinobu flinch, “out. I promise to let you back in once I’ve administered proper care. Mitsuri, take her out with you please.”
Shinobu numbly allowed Mitsuri to lead her away, keeping her eyes on (Y/n) until a Kakushi closed the door behind them. Unwilling to stray any further, Shinobu slid to the ground opposite the infirmary, and waited. Straining her hearing for any hint of what was going on beyond the door.
“You care about her a lot,” Mitsuri spoke up softly after a few long minutes of silence, “why haven’t you told her?”
If that wasn’t the million dollar question… Shinobu kept silent.
“Well, don’t worry. Kanae is going to get her all fixed up and then you can tell her all the things you wanted to say, okay?”
What did Mitsuri know? Shinobu thought bitterly. Shinobu saw that gash on her forehead, that deep wound in her belly, no one could say with one hundred percent certainty that (Y/n) would recover from this.
“You should practice what you want to say.” Mitsuri said, hoping to distract Shinobu from her dark thoughts, “I’ll talk through it with you, if you want. I’m rooting for you guys.”
Part of Shinobu wanted to tell Mitsuri to mind her own business, but she really did need the help if she was going to go through with this properly. So she took a deep breath, and took a step in the right direction.
When Kanae came out of the infirmary hours later, Shinobu and Mitsuri rocketed up from the floor and before they could bombard Kanae with questions, she held up her hands and said,
“She’s going to be okay. You can go see for yourselves.”
And when Shinobu rushed to (Y/n)’s side, she definitely did look better already. Blood washed away, wounds expertly stitched, clean bandages and clothes. Shinobu hunkered down in the chair by her bedside, scooting it as close to the bed as she could before taking (Y/n)’s hand and holding between her own.
Kanae smiled and shook her head. It was a very rude awakening, but at the very least Shinobu was heading in the right direction now. She went to rest knowing (Y/n) would be well looked after.
***
When (Y/n) awoke, the harsh light burned her eyes so she quickly shut them as soon as she opened them. Her body felt heavy and stiff. She couldn’t even wiggle her fingers. Well, none on her left hand anyway. She couldn’t remember the demons doing anything that would warrant a cast over her hand, but there was too much going on to process every injury fully, she imagined. It was weird how warm and sweaty the cast had made her hand though. It was a little uncomfortable.
(Y/n) tried to flip to her side instead of laying flat on her back, but found she was too weak to do it and groaned quietly. The ‘cast’ around her hand constricted in a light squeeze and a soft voice hushed her. Kanae, she assumed. Kanae must be with her, holding her hand. That made sense. Oh, her poor Master. It must have been hard to see her like that.
She tried to open her eyes again, blinking several times before she could even hold a squint. Though her vision was still a bit blurry, it was clearly not Kanae by her bedside. No, it was… was it really Shinobu?
“(Y/n), you’re awake.” Shinobu sounded so relieved that (Y/n) wasn’t so sure she had actually woken up.
“You’re holding my hand.” She blurted. No filter with her head injury apparently.
“Do you want me to stop?” Shinobu asked awkwardly, no bite whatsoever, nor true embarrassment at getting caught. She just seemed… shy, maybe a little uncertain.
“No… it’s fine.” Though she would have liked to air out her hand a little, she didn’t want to risk Shinobu getting offended and breaking whatever spell had come over her.
“I, I have a lot I need to say to you. Will you hear me out?”
Though (Y/n) was nervous, she nodded, managing to free her fingers to wrap them over Shinobu’s hand that cradled her own beneath the other. Shinobu took in a shaky breath, than began as she and Mitsuri had practiced.
***
One Month Later
“You aren’t back to full strength yet, don’t be so discouraged.” Shinobu spoke softly to (Y/n) as she helped her up from the cushy training room floor.
“But still,” (Y/n) pouted, hugging Shinobu and looking for further comfort once she was on her feet again, “I wanna beat you just once, is that so much to ask for?”
“Put those puppy eyes away. We both know you wouldn’t be satisfied if I just let you win.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back.
“No, it would still be satisfying. The only real reason you won’t let me win is because you’re too proud of your flawless record of beating me to the ground.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“But it’s truuue.” (Y/n) nuzzled her nose into Shinobu’s neck, making her laugh, “kiss me and make me feel better?”
“I guess I can give you that much.”
Shinobu coaxed (Y/n)’s face out of her neck with her hands on either side of her face and brought her in for kiss. She had only meant for it to be a short one, but (Y/n) had made it difficult to want to pull away, not that Shinobu really minded all that much. Not until she found herself suddenly pinned to the ground at least.
“I win!” (Y/n) grinned.
“No you don’t,” Shinobu frowned, “this wasn’t a match.”
“I didn’t actually say I forfeited, remember? This match is still on, baby!”
“Then my position still stands, you haven’t won anything yet,” Shinobu struggled against (Y/n)’s hold until she was nearly red in the face, but still she didn’t budge, “don’t you know cheaters never prosper?”
“All is fair in love and war, my dearest Shinobu.” (Y/n) giggled. “Are you gonna forfeit yet?”
Shinobu snuck her hands up (Y/n)’s back, making her shiver, she chuckled darkly, the same competitive glint in her eyes as always as she pulled the her girlfriend down to her lips.
“You wish.”
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lost-between-letters · 2 years ago
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Pet Names
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams x vampire!Reader (she/her)
Requested by: @animealways
Warnings: canon typical levels of violent threats/insults
Word Count: 743
Summary: Wednesday was on a call with her family when her girlfriend decided to crash the conversation with her bubbly personality
A/N: that was so much fun to write! Requests for all our favourite Wednesday characters are still very much open :)
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"Larissa is still as strict about your free time outside of Nevermore as the last time we visited I trust?" Morticia inquired with a wave of her hand.
Wednesday rolled her eyes at the memory of Prinicpal Weems' pathetic attempts at limiting her in her decision making. It was getting quite repetitive to have those conversations - for thinking of herself that highly, Principal Weems wasn't acting as much as the evil mastermind Wednesday had longed to meet.
"She told me to stay on the grounds for the foreseeable future and should I be caught, I'd be 'facing consequences you won't like Miss Addams'."
There wasn't a need to put up the gesture or air quotations as her voice dropped into the sickly sweet tone Wednesday only ever used when she was forced to talk about her principal.
"Ah my darling!" Gomez exclaimed delighted and clapped his hands, "getting threatened by a teacher? We told you, you'd love the school!"
"It has become-" Wednesday whipped her head around. Someone was in the room with her.
And not one of her summoned spirits.
The mirror on Enid's side reflected an empty room but Wednesday felt the cold presence nonetheless.
"I got you the pig's blood for the ceremony, my sweet angel of death!"
A moment later, Y/N was leaning over Wednesday's desk chair and planted a kiss on her cheek for good measure.
"I told you not to call me that." Wednesday turned and fixed her with her most terrifying glare.
But Y/N just grinned wide enough to show off her pointed teeth and held up the bags of blood. Nothing quite romantic as the idle threat of being mauled to death by your girlfriend. Wednesday knew why she chose her. "And I keep ignoring it."
"You're a menace, bloodsucker."
"Now now, what was that about pet names, ma fleur du mort?"
Someone cleared their throat behind them.
Both of their eyes shot back to the crystal ball where Gomez was clutching Morticia's hand, there faces filled with confusion and - happiness? Ugh.
Pugsley was doing his best to suppress the shit eating grin. "'My sweet angel of death' Wednesday? Really?"
"Make fun of Y/N and I will use your spinal chord as my new bow for my cello."
Y/N damn near choked on her own spit next to her. Not that Wednesday cared particularly - right now, she needed her family to stop being normal about her relationship.
Of course, she still reached for Y/N's hand and hooked her fingers around her wrist to drag her down next to her.
"Pig's blood for a ritual with her girlfriend? Cara mia, our little girl is growing up so fast!" Gomez clutched Morticia's hand between his and pressed it to his chest.
Her mother tilted her head just so and studied Y/N intently. Wednesday resorted to glaring at her in return. She could feel Y/N tense up under Morticia's gaze so Wednesday took the metaphorical bullet and spoke up.
"I am. In fact, we have to leave now or the moon will be too high in the sky for us."
"Very well my dear," her mother had stopped the x-ray stare and was smiling down at their interlocked hands. Then her eyes wandered up to meet Y/N's. "I hope you two are having fun."
"At least as much as your mother and I had when we were your age," Gomez added with a wink.
"We need to go now," Wednesday emphasised again and threw the black fabric across the crystal ball.
The connection cut off almost instantly. Though not fast enough not to hear Gomez delighted chuckling and Morticia's agreeable humming.
"Your parents are quite something else," Y/N remarked as she caught up to her girlfriend who was already halfway across the room to the window.
Wednesday merely opened a panel and looked at her unimpressed. "We really need to get going."
Y/N slipped out and wrapped her arm around Wednesday's shoulders to pull her into her side and brushed a kiss to her temple. The effect was instant - Wednesday ever so lightly relaxed and her lips quirked up just a little bit.
"And you really are a menace," she added but wound her own arm around Y/N's waist.
Unsurprisingly, Y/N wasn’t affected by the accusation in the slightest. Instead she laughed. "You wouldn't want it any other way."
Wednesday sighed. "Let's light those candles already, bloodsucker."
"Whatever you wish ma fleur du mort."
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e642 · 3 months ago
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Mon mec a oublié ses clefs dans mon sac sauf que maintenant je suis à Bordeaux et lui à 10h de Bordeaux. Le mec m'appelle et commence à me démarrer mdrrrr genre "t'aurais pas pu vérifier", "tu fais chier". Je sais pas s'il a compris qu'il a laissé SES affaires dans MON sac comme à chaque fois et que quand je lui ai dit de vérifier avant de partir il m'a dit "flemme". C'est bien fait. En attendant je vais payer 20 balles de colis recommandé et ça, ça me troue le fiak. En plus il m'a réveillée pour ça et il m'a dit "aller bouge la poste ferme bientôt " comme quoi il est capable de se renseigner sur quelque chose mais faut une urgence. Peut-être qu'un jour il connaîtra mes dates importantes.. juste faut que je sois en mort cérébrale pour ça, c'est pas trop renta.
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dollykiller · 5 months ago
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Posséder un mousquet pour la défense du territoire, puisque c'est ce que les pères fondateurs avaient l'intention de faire. Quatre bandits font irruption dans ma maison. « Qu'est-ce que c'est que ça? » Alors que j'attrape ma perruque poudrée et mon fusil du Kentucky. Faites un trou de la taille d'une balle de golf à travers le premier homme qu'il est mort sur le coup. Je dégaine mon arme sur le deuxième homme, je le rate complètement parce qu'il est lisse et cloue le chien du voisin. J'ai dû recourir au canon monté en haut de l'escalier chargé de balles, « Tally ho lads » le tir de raisins a déchiqueté deux hommes dans l'explosion, le bruit et des éclats d'obus supplémentaires ont déclenché les alarmes de la voiture. Attachez la baïonnette et chargez le dernier rapscallion terrifié. Il saigne en attendant l'arrivée de la police car les blessures triangulaires à la baïonnette sont impossibles à recoudre. Tout comme les pères fondateurs l'avaient prévu.
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fdelopera · 16 days ago
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Welcome to the 24th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.
In today’s installment, we have Part II of Chapter 10, “Au bal masqué” (“At the Masked Ball”).
This section was first printed on Saturday, 30 October, 1909.
For anyone following along in David Coward's translation of the First Edition of Phantom of the Opera (either in paperback, or Kindle, or from another vendor -- the ISBN-13 is: 978-0199694570), the text starts in Chapter 10 at, “It needed no more to rekindle his hopes,” and goes to, “The black domino kept turning round and twice appeared to see something very frightening, for she began to walk even faster, obliging Raoul to follow suit, as if someone was after them."
There are some differences between the Gaulois text and the First Edition. In this section, these include (highlighted in red above):
1) In the Gaulois text, Leroux gave greater specificity to the room where Christine told Raoul to meet her (bolded below):
...il pénétra enfin dans le petit salon que le billet de Christine lui avait indiqué et dont tout un pan était formé de la cheminée monumentale du grand foyer.
Translation:
... he at last entered the small room that Christine's note had specified, in which an entire side was formed from the monumental fireplace of the Grand Foyer.*
* NOTE: see photos of this room below.
2) The following lines were included in the Gaulois text, but omitted from the First Edition:
Mais il avait vu, dans les deux trous du loup, les yeux, les yeux clairs…
Et il ne pouvait pas se tromper sur ces yeux-là…
Translation:
But within the holes of the mask, he had seen her eyes, those limpid eyes...
And he could not mistake those eyes...
3) Minor differences in punctuation and capitalization.
PLEASE NOTE:
I) Christine was not just wearing a black domino mask. Like Raoul, she also wore a piece of fabric that hung down from the bottom of the mask and covered her nose and mouth. This was a common style of mask in the day. Leroux wrote that she brought her finger "jusqu'à la hauteur de ses lèvres": "up to the level of her lips"; however, he did not say that she brought her finger up to her lips themselves (since her lips were covered). This piece of fabric hanging down from the mask was called a "barbe," or "beard." This is why Raoul was so shocked later in the chapter when Christine took off her mask and he could see her pallid face; if she had been wearing a simple domino mask without a "barbe," he would have been able to see her pale lips and cheeks beforehand. The Gaulois text makes this more clear, since Leroux indicated that Raoul was able to recognize her by her eyes, which is the only part of her face that he was able to see.
II) Christine’s mask mirrored Erik’s mask, which was also a black half mask with a “barbe,” or piece of cloth, hanging down to cover the bottom half of his face. In Erik's case, his mask was covered in black silk and the "barbe" was a hanging piece of black silk — similar in style to this historical mask from a museum collection in Helsinki.
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III) There is a mistranslation in Coward's text in this section. Coward wrote:
It was a man dressed entirely in scarlet, with a huge plumed hat perched over a death’s head mask. And a very fine simulation of a human skull it was too!
However, Leroux wrote:
Ce personnage était vêtu tout d’écarlate avec un immense chapeau à plumes sur une tête de mort. Ah ! la belle imitation de tête de mort que c’était là !
This translates as:
This figure was dressed entirely in scarlet with an immense plumed hat atop a death’s head. And oh! what a fine imitation of a death’s head it was!
Leroux said nothing about this figure wearing a mask; he just says that he had a death’s head. And his description of the death’s head being an “imitation” I believe is Leroux being ironic, so that we will laugh at the art students who gather around Erik and compliment him on his fine “mask” and costume.
IV) It should be noted that we have a bit of a role reversal going on here between Erik and Christine. Erik arrives to the masked ball wearing his bare face as a mask, and Christine arrives wearing a black mask with a "barbe," which is very similar to the one that Erik wore when he was around her. This is part of the theme of the "Inverted World," traditionally associated with Mardi Gras and Carnevale, that Leroux was playing with in this chapter.
V) These are photos of the great fireplace in the Grand Foyer of the Palais Garnier, and the little room behind it (from when I visited in 2015), which is where Christine told Raoul to meet her. (See #1 above.)
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Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 30 October, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.
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sunshinetomioka · 1 month ago
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Attention ça va yap en français.
J'y pense. Baptiste Polco un petit jeune, un peu seul sans vrai famille.
Baptiste Polco, 22 ans, manipulé par Jean Clanche à entrer dans la criminalité.
J'y pense, Jason Todd, le red hood, envoyé à Los Santos qui découvre la présence d'un Variant un peu nul du Joker en ville.
Jason qui découvre qu'il avait un associé maintenant mort.
Jason qui apprend que Baptiste avait 22 ans, seulement. Qu'il est mort assassiné.
Jason qui enquête sur sa mort pour lui rendre justice.
Jason qui découvre qu'il aurait pu avoir un début de stabilité. Jason qui comprend qu'il a été trahis par les gens les plus proche de lui.
Jason qui se reconnaît en lui et qui plus il approche de la vérité plus sa colère monte.
Jason face à face avec Jokerion/mysterion qui ressent cette colère énorme né de l'injustice de la mort de Baptiste. Une colère qui lui prend les tripes, lui serre le coeur, une colère mélangé à une tristesse énorme. Et jamais il ne saura que Bruce a ressenti la même chose après sa mort et que la seule personne qui a empêché Bruce de tuer ce jour là était Superman.
Et Jason n'est pas Bruce, il n'a pas de Superman pour l'arrêter. Il est seul avec Jokerion qui ne sera jamais arrêté pour la mort de Baptiste, car il n'est pas celui qui a tiré.
Jean Clanche qui est retrouvé par le LSPD plus tard, sans vie dans une ruelle. Jean Clanche qui a succombé de ses trois blessures par balle.
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solhrafn · 4 months ago
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Bon y s’est passé plein de trucs depuis mon dernier post, mais en gros, on a fait trois jours de chalet, temps variable donc super pour les photos, je me suis retrouvé pris dans des draches et sur des chemins inondés mais sans renoncer car une fois trempé, rebrousser chemin ne sert à rien. Là j’ai pris V et on est en road trip entre Fjords et sommets depuis hier et elle sera une barroudeuse. J’ai hâte qu’elle grandisse encore un peu.
J’ai des pensées par rapport à la mort et je réfléchis un peu sur mes angoisses. Je gros que mon anxiété vient du fait que j’ai beaucoup à perdre maintenant. Je ne peux m’empêcher de penser à chaque moment partager ici avec V et j’essaie qu’ils soient des moments qui resteront avec elle toute la vie, comme faire ce trip me ramène en mémoire les moments semblables que j’ai vecus avec l’un ou l’autre de mes parents. Le changement de perspective d’enfant à adulte est troublant.
Time Flies de Steven Wilson s’est mis à jouer sur le shuffle. Ma gorge se serre. Helvegen (skaldic version) de Wardruna vient à son tour et les larmes suivent. Je comprends certains mots de ma mère dzns ma chair désormais.
Sinon petites frustrations à cause de touristes cons en bobil dans des cols méga étroits, situation qui devient la cata quand un autre connard en véhicule similaire décide de venir à contre sens. Sérieusement si vous venez en Norvège ne venez pas en camping car ou en caravane. Si vous devez absolument infliger votre présence de trou de balle en véhicule inadapté aux autres, au moins apprenez les règles de courtoisie locales (si vous êtes un véhicule qui fait 40 sur une route à 80, laissez passer ceux qui vous suivent dès que possible).
Sinon là on est mid-trip et on fuit les zones orange niveau tourisme en allant vers l’est, direction le glacier au dessus de Sognefjell.
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sloubs · 1 year ago
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ça faisait un moment que j'avais pas rêvé d'aa, là cette nuit j'ai rêvé que je passais un grand examen sous forme de plusieurs épreuves (pour qui, pourquoi c'est un mystère) et genre aa était surveillant et président du jury ?? y avait une épreuve où on s'affrontait à un contre un et c'était une battle de danse avec objet imposé, du coup j'me suis retrouvée à danser avec une balle en mousse sur un remix de joyeux anniversaire et lui était en face totalement passible en train d'évaluer si oui ou non je méritais de gagner la battle (franchement pas pour me la péter mais j'ai dead ça)
et ensuite (oui parce que c'est pas fini mdr), la dernière épreuve c'était une épreuve d'écoute et de recueil d'informations sur une vidéo qu'on nous passait, J'AI RIEN COMPRIS au concept de l'évaluation ça avait aucun sens. en tout cas la vidéo c'était une enquête sur une meuf qu'on a retrouvé morte dans la forêt, et ils nous montraient un scan de sa tête où on voyait nettement une araignée près de son cerveau puis y a eu une reconstitution du moment où elle s'est fait bouffer par une araignée géante on aurait dit un film d'horreur le truc, et donc tout le monde a eu peur et moi j'ai raté mon exam.
après c'était la fin de l'évaluation, j'ai rendu mes copies à aa qui m'a trop mal regardé, je suis retournée chercher mes affaires sous des trombes d'eau puis j'me suis arrêtée récupérer un gratin que j'avais laissé dans le four thermostat 8, et la dernière chose dont je me souviens c'est aa qui se foutait de la gueule d'un mec au loin en disant "mais strauss-khan est pas mort espèce de con !" et voilà . je m'fais très peur
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icariebzh · 9 months ago
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photo source: Toile
"Ma tête roule de lisière en lisière entre les tranchées comme une boule d’herbes sèches comme une balle mes bras arrachés feront des violettes au printemps mes jambes seront emportées par les chiens et les chats mon sang peindra le monde d’un rouge nouveau Pantone sang humain mes os s’enfonceront dans la terre formeront une carcasse ma mitraillette trouée rouillera la pauvre mes affaires de rechange et mon équipement iront aux nouvelles recrues vivement le printemps pour qu’enfin je repousse en violette.   " 
le dernier poème de Maksym Kryvtsov mort sur le front
Traduit de l’ukrainien par Nastasia Dahuron
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aurevoirmonty · 5 days ago
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11 novembre 1918: mort du dernier poilu.
Il a été tué à 10 h 55 du matin, soit 5 minutes avant l'heure du cessez-le-feu décidé par l'armistice du 11 novembre 1918. Selon d'autres sources, il aurait été tué aux environs de 10 h 45 et 10 h 50.
Soldat de 1re classe, estafette de la 9e compagnie du 415e régiment de la 163e division d'infanterie, il reçoit une balle dans la tête alors qu'il porte un message à son capitaine. Le soldat Gazareth découvre le corps.
Augustin Trébuchon avait 40 ans. Berger à Saint-Privat-du-Fau en Lozère, il avait été mobilisé en 1914. Un jardin de la mémoire Augustin-Trébuchon a été inauguré à Rethondes en 2012.
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firebirdxvi · 11 months ago
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Fils du Feu Seconde Réminiscence
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Le petit garçon attrapa la balle en cuir dorée qui roulait vers lui dans sa main potelée. Il l'examina sous tous les angles, la passant d'une main à l'autre avec intérêt, et la laissa échapper. Avec une plainte sonore, il se déplaça à quatre pattes de quelques centimètres sur le tapis précieux qui recouvrait le sol de la chambre d'enfant et parvint à la récupérer avant qu'elle ne soit hors de sa portée. Il la fit rouler un instant sur le sol, puis avec toute la force dont pouvait faire preuve un enfant d'un an, l'envoya en direction de son grand frère qui se trouvait à quelques mètres.
- "C'est bien, Joshua !"
Son petit frère ne savait pas viser juste et Clive dut s'allonger de tout son long par terre pour attraper le jouet, ce qui fit rire le bébé. Clive aimait particulièrement ces fins d'après-midi ensoleillées, quand les rayons du jour commençaient tout juste à baisser et teintaient de feu tout ce qu'ils touchaient. C'était le moment où on le laissait jouer avec son frère sans rien lui demander d'autre. Il ne ratait pas un seul progrès de Joshua. Tout à l'heure, ils iraient prendre une collation légère, et ensuite ce serait le dîner. Insoucieux de tout sauf de s'amuser avec son frère, il renvoya la balle, pas trop fort pour que le bébé puisse l'attraper. Ce qu'il fit avec brio en étendant à peine le bras.
Ils n'étaient pourtant pas seuls dans la pièce. Une gouvernante les surveillait de loin, occupée à astiquer les meubles, un sourire aux lèvres. Sourire qu'elle perdit en se rappelant qu'à quelques mètres d'elles, l'archiduchesse Anabella était occupée à un travail d'aiguille, assise dans un fauteuil de velours rouge. Elle ne regardait pas ses fils, et restait concentrée sur son ouvrage. La broderie était l'une des rares activités auxquelles une femme de son rang pouvait s'occuper sans s'attirer de moqueries.
Le motif représentait un phénix doré, les ailes déployées, sur fond rouge sang. Il était destiné à être cousu sur une courtepointe pour le jeune Joshua. L'enfant n'avait encore manifesté aucun pouvoir particulier, mais l'espérance d'Anabella ne faiblissait pas.
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L'archiduchesse avait fait montre de la plus grande patience depuis qu'elle avait épousé son cousin Elwin. Il n'avait jamais été question d'amour entre eux. Le but de leur union avait toujours été, depuis le début, de redonner vie au Phénix. Depuis que le père d'Elwin, le précédent Emissaire, avait connu une mort précoce - ce qui semblait le lot de tous les élus du Phénix -, on avait guetté avec attention les signes du Primordial chez un de ses deux fils. Mais ni Elwin ni Byron n'en avait manifesté le moindre. Les Emissaires ne découvraient leurs pouvoirs que dans leur jeunesse, rarement après quinze ou seize ans. Passé cet âge, on devait se résigner à attendre la prochaine génération.
Elwin avait accepté d'assurer la régence jusqu'à ce que l'un de ses enfants se révèle le prochain Emissaire. Ce n'était pas la première fois que cela se produisait, mais les Rosaliens étaient attachés au Phénix et préféraient que leur archiduc soit aussi leur Emissaire. Cependant, le peuple adorait Elwin ; pour ses positions que l'on qualifiait de progressistes sans doute. Anabella était loin de partager toutes ses vues, notamment au sujet des Pourvoyeurs. Elle estimait que chacun devait demeurer à sa place dans le monde et pour éviter des querelles avec son mari, elle n'avait pris aucune Pourvoyeuse à son service personnel.
L'archiduchesse piqua de nouveau son aiguille et leva les yeux vers les deux enfants cette fois. La balle roulait entre eux, accompagnée des babillements de Joshua et des encouragements de Clive. Elle se demandait bien pourquoi son aîné trouvait ça si amusant... Elle n'avait eu aucun attrait pour ces jeux avec Clive, et n'en ressentait toujours aucun aujourd'hui. Pourtant, la naissance de Clive lui avait procuré une grande joie. Etant le fruit de l'union de deux Rosfield, il avait toutes les chances de devenir le futur Phénix. Sa fierté d'avoir accompli le devoir pour lequel elle pensait être née l'avait sans doute fait trop anticiper le résultat...
Six ans s'étaient écoulés et Clive restait un enfant des plus ordinaires. Ressemblant trait pour trait à son père cependant. Anabella détestait l'ordinaire. Elle voulait donner naissance à un dieu, pas à un petit garçon sans intérêt. Bien qu'elle ne désespérât pas que son aîné se révèle être le Phénix plus tard, Joshua lui semblait plus prometteur. Peut-être parce qu'il lui ressemblait davantage, à elle, avec ses cheveux d'or et ses yeux clairs. Elle avait lutté pour qu'Elwin pense à son devoir conjugal... Le Phénix, le Phénix, lui répétait-elle sans cesse. Il fallait que le Phénix revienne. Et surtout, qu'elle en soit la mère. Elle n'accepterait jamais que son mari la répudie si elle échouait. Même si Elwin passait davantage de temps auprès de ses soldats, dans les casernes ou les écuries, qu'auprès d'elle dans la chambre maritale... Elle ne doutait pas que si on avait le moindre doute sur son capacité à donner naissance au prochain Emissaire, on la forcerait à partir. Elle savait qu'un certain ordre occulte, lié au Phénix, attendait le retour de leur dieu et qu'il disposait d'un certain pouvoir politique, même si Elwin prétendait le contraire... Un de ses fils devait absolument devenir l'Emissaire de Phénix au plus vite ; Anabella était capable de patience mais seulement jusqu'à un certain point...
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Elle était encore jeune et belle, si elle devait enchaîner les grossesses jusqu'à ce que cela arrive, elle le ferait. Quitte a rappeler à Elwin ses devoirs d'époux le plus souvent possible...
- "Oh ! Vous le taquinez beaucoup trop, messire Clive !" s'exclama la gouvernante, qui se rattrapa aussitôt en se rappelant que sa maîtresse l'écoutait.
Anabella lui lança un regard courroucé avant d'observer de nouveau les deux enfants. Son aîné jouait à lancer la balle en l'air et à la rattraper ; le petit Joshua scrutait, fasciné, le mouvement du jouet de haut en bas, mâchonnant son propre pouce. A un moment, Clive tendit la balle vers son frère, ponctuant son geste d'un amical "allez, viens, la chercher, Joshua !", sachant bien que son petit frère n'avait pas son pareil pour évoluer à quatre pattes. Il donnait souvent bien du tracas aux gouvernantes qui devaient aller le chercher sous les tables ou les lit dès qu'il lui prenait l'envie d'explorer une nouvelle pièce.
Anabella soupira d'ennui et retourna à son ouvrage minutieux. Une maille après l'autre, l'oiseau de feu prenait forme... Elle sourit pour elle-même. Bientôt, très bientôt...
Cependant, les deux Rosfield continuaient de s'amuser. Ayant fini de mâchonner son doigt, et comme hypnotisé par son frère qui lui tendait les bras pour l'inviter à le rejoindre, le petit Joshua fronça les sourcils et serra ses petits poings sur ses yeux. Il contracta ses bras, les lança en avant et se prépara à avancer grâce à son moyen de locomotion favori... Joshua se pencha en avant et son frère cru un instant qu'il allait faire une simple galipette, et voulu se précipiter pour le retenir, mais ce ne fut pas ce qui se passa.
Le petit tendit les jambes et resta dans cette position, la tête en bas pendant un moment, avant de pousser sur ses mains. Ce faisant, il parvint à se redresser sur ses jambes flageolantes, piétinant un moment sur place pour trouver son équilibre. Clive n'en croyait pas ses yeux.
- "Joshua, tu es... hey ! tu t'es mis debout, je rêve pas ?!"
Le petit garçon tourna sur lui-même, comme un peu perdu par cette nouvelle perspective sur le monde autour de lui, puis fit de nouveau face à son grand frère dont les yeux étaient tout à fait écarquillés de surprise. Clive, fou de joie, ouvrit les bras vers Joshua et se mit à l'encourager comme il le pouvait, mais sans faire un pas vers lui. Il resta assis sur le tapis à quelques mètres, attendant ce que son frère allait faire.
Il n'attendit pas plus longtemps. Retirant son pouce de sa bouche, décidé à affronter la situation dans laquelle il s'était mis, Joshua posa un pied devant l'autre. Ecartant les bras pour assurer son équilibre, il sembla comprendre la manoeuvre à effectuer.
- "Oh, par le Fondateur ! Ma Dame !..." cria de nouveau la gouvernante qui avait abandonné son chiffon.
Anabella leva encore les yeux et faillit lâcher son ouvrage de surprise. Elle vit son cadet, âgé d'à peine un an, debout sur ses courtes jambes tremblantes, avançant à petits pas vers son aîné, qui ne cachait pas sa joie. Son visage était radieux, ses paroles à fois douces et énergiques, et Joshua y répondait avec empressement. Trop peut-être. Il se prit les pieds dans un pli du tapis et tomba du haut de sa petite taille face contre le sol. Clive retint son réflexe premier de voler à son secours, car l'enfant ne s'était apparemment pas fait mal, le tapis étant bien assez épais pour amortir sa chute. Au lieu de cela, il redoubla de conseils de bravoure :
- "Allez, Joshua ! Il faut te relever ! Il faut toujours se relever quand on tombe ! Ca fait pas mal, tu es plus fort que ça ! Tu peux le faire !"
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Le petit garçon, le visage tordu par la déception qu'avait causée sa chute, une petite larme au coin de l'oeil, regarda de nouveau son grand frère, et, bien décidé à l'atteindre, réitéra la même opération délicate que quelques minutes plus tôt. Il raidit ses jambes, prit appui sur ses mains, qu'il frotta un peu comme si elles étaient sales une fois debout, mais ne tourna pas sur lui-même ; cette fois, il se dirigea droit vers Clive sans y réfléchir. Il levait bien ses petits pieds pour ne pas tomber une nouvelle fois. Clive était aux anges ; son frère avait parcouru la moitié de la distance.
Anabella contemplait cette scène sans oser intervenir. Mais ses doigts étaient crispés sur sa robe... Inconsciemment, elle espérait que Joshua se lasse de ce jeu, se laisse tomber à terre pour rejoindre son frère, ou même mieux encore : qu'il retourne à sa place loin de Clive et que celui-ci cesse de sourire bêtement... Une rage sourde qu'elle n'avait encore jamais connue lui fit bouillir les veines. Elwin aimait tellement Clive... Si Joshua se mettait aussi de la partie, elle n'allait pas pouvoir le supporter...
Cet enfant osait lui voler un moment qui aurait du être le sien. C'était vers elle que Joshua aurait du marcher. Elle était sa mère. Ses premiers pas auraient du être pour elle. Pas pour... lui.
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Elle se força à rester calme et à attendre la fin de cette humiliation en silence. Lorsque les doigts de Joshua touchèrent ceux de Clive, le petit, épuisé, se laissa tomber dans les bras de son aîné, qui l'entraîna au sol avec lui, ivre de joie pure. Les deux enfants se roulèrent sur le tapis, comme deux vulgaires garçons de ferme, Clive pressant son petit frère contre son coeur.
- "Tu l'as fait, Joshua ! T'es le plus fort ! Je suis si fier !"
Joshua gloussa de plaisir en tâtonnant le visage de Clive de ses doigts curieux.
- "Claaaaa... Claaaa," répéta-t-il en attrapant l'oreille de son frère.
Ce n'était pas la première fois que Joshua essayait de prononcer son nom mais Clive se sentait beaucoup trop heureux aujourd'hui.
- "Oui. Encore. Vas-y : Claaaaa-iiii...", prononça l'aîné, tenant son petit frère attentif sur ses genoux.
L'archiduchesse n'en supporta pas davantage. Elle se leva et ce fut à ce moment que Clive se rappela de sa présence.
- 'Mère ! Il... il marche !" osa-t-il dire en limitant son enthousiasme.
- "Vraiment ? Merveilleux."
- "Père devrait le savoir, c'est un jour important..."
- "C'est un jour comme les autres. Quand il aura manifesté le pouvoir du Phénix, ce jour-là sera un jour important."
Elle quitta la chambre sans un mot de plus, ni aucun geste maternel envers ses fils, suivie de sa servante.
Elle s'était sentie trahie, mise de côté par ses propres rejetons. Elle n'était pas prête de l'oublier. Mais si Joshua se révélait être l'Emissaire, elle pourrait peut-être lui pardonner.
Peut-être...
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selidren · 9 months ago
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Printemps 1917 - Champs-les-Sims
1/7
Cher cousin,
C'est avec le coeur lourd que je vous écrit cette lettre. La tragédie que nous redoutions temps a fini par frapper, mais là où ne nous y attendions pas, ce qui ajoute à notre malheur.
Juste après le nouvel an, alors que son régiment stationnait à Avoncourt, Adelphe a été touché par une balle incendiaire au visage. Il n'est heureusement pas mort et n'a même pas perdu son oeil, ce que les médecins considèrent comme miraculeux. Alors que nous étions soulagés qu'il s'en sorte avec une simple cicatrice, c'est alors que le véritable drame a frappé. Le jour où il nous adressait la lettre informant son épouse de son rétablissement, Marie a été amenée à l'hôpital pour accoucher. Aveuglés par notre soulagement, nous avons éclaté en sanglot quand Madame Eugénie est revenue en nous annonçant que ma chère belle-soeur est morte en mettant au monde la petite Jeanne.
Transcription :
Marc-Antoine « Maman ? »
Albertine « Oui, mon petit ? »
Marc-Antoine « Tu dormais ? Tu veux que je te laisse ? »
Albertine « Non, je suis réveillée. Tu veux parler de quelque chose ? »
Marc-Antoine « Tu as des nouvelles d’Oncle Adelphe ? »
Albertine « Il va mieux, mais malheureusement il aura le visage marqué je pense. »
Marc-Antoine « Et par rapport à... »
Albertine « Comme tu t’en doutes, il ne va pas bien du tout. Ce n’est pas le genre de blessure dont il se remet. Voudras-tu bien lui écrire une lettre avec tes sœurs ? »
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blackswaneuroparedux · 1 year ago
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Ney, éperdu, grand de toute la hauteur de la mort acceptée, s'offrait à tous les coups dans cette tourmente. Il eut son cinquième cheval tué sous lui. En sueur, la flamme aux yeux, l'écume aux lèvres, l'uniforme déboutonné, une de ses épaulettes à demi coupée par le coup de sabre d'un horse-guard, sa plaque de grand-aigle bosselée par une balle, sanglant, fangeux, magnifique, une épée cassée à la main, il disait : « Venez voir comment meurt un maréchal de France sur un champ de bataille ! » Mais en vain ; il ne mourut pas.**
Victor Hugo
I've always had a soft spot for Marshal Ney. Napoleon had said: "He is as weak as he is brave and his excessive ambition gives him a hold. Ney is the bravest of men." And so he was.
It was at the battle of Waterloo, roughly at 4pm, Marshal Ney noticed quite the sight. Ahead of him, Wellington's centre appeared to be folding and looked like the beginning of an organised retreat. Aware that the British were not decisively defeated, he rallied a cavalry force of roughly 9,000 and prepared a charge to cut down the fleeing British.
Why cavalry alone? After all, this was a Marshal who served under an Emperor who heavily advocated for cavalry to be used alongside infantry and artillery, and never alone. Wanting to take advantage of an opportunity, Ney needed to act quickly. The reality of the situation was most of Napoleon's infantry was already committed in other areas of the battle, and so Ney hoped to break Wellington's centre with cavalry alone.
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British infantry were made quickly aware of the masses of cavalry forming along the French lines and retired behind the crest of the hill where they formed into square formations. So as not to repeat the failures of the French gunners, British gunners were ordered to take shelter in the squares and take their positions again once the charge faded away.
The square formation was deadly, though not impenetrable. A concentrated cavalry attack had the potential to break through the 'walls' of the square, but as one would expect such a feat is difficult. The British squares were thus arranged in such a fashion that neighboring squares could support one another, creating 'corridors of death' by forcing French cavalry down and around the sides of the square so as to retain their momentum.
Captain Rees Gronow of the British Foot Guards commented on the charge that it was 'n overwhelming, long moving line, which, ever advancing, glittered like a stormy wave of the sea when it catches the sunlight … one might suppose that nothing could have resisted the shock of this terrible moving mass.'
Without support, Ney's initial charges were unsuccessful. His attacks were repeatedly repelled both by the steadfastness of the British squares and the successful counter charges by British and Dutch cavalry, and what remained of the Household Cavalry.
Napoleon, witnessing the disaster, commented that the charge happened an hour too early.
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Among the generals who covered themselves in glory during the Revolution and the First Empire, there is none whose male and heroic figure inspires more sympathy than that of Marshal Ney. But he didn’t achieve the glory he wanted that day at Waterloo. For that he did pay the ultimate price.
For Marshal Ney's life was intimately linked to the political and military events of France, from the end of the Ancien Régime to the Restoration. It was he the king sent to stop Napoleon when he escaped Elba and landed back on French soil. Loyal though he was to France itself he was was unable to cope with the political upheavals of the Hundred Days. Faced with the difficult choice between two loyalties, to the King and to the Emperor, he chose Napoleon.
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At Waterloo where Marshal Ney charged five times at the head of his cavalry, vainly seeking death on the battlefield. Instead he died by firing squad by the restored Bourbon monarchy at the age of 46, judged by his peers in a hasty manner, even though he was destined for a glorious death on the battlefield, in the heat of the action, as he had always wanted.
Ney, distraught, tall with all the height of accepted death, offered himself to all the blows in this turmoil. His fifth horse was killed beneath him. Sweating, flame in his eyes, foam on his lips, his uniform unbuttoned, one of his epaulettes half-cut by a horse-guard's sabre stroke, his grand-aigle plate dented by a bullet, bloody, muddy, magnificent, with a broken sword in his hand, he said: "Come and see how a Marshal of France dies on a battlefield! But in vain; he did not die.**
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maxouss-does-okay-art · 2 months ago
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Une balle, un mort
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