#W.G!AU

[amnesia-filled-gardens]

Small things I added in one of my charts that are subtle hints to how the characters interact. +what series it may be a reference to.

The icons I have for Deerling and Hotguy have arrows pointing at Widow and Xelqua.

The Red King and Ocean Queens icons are the closest together despite being on opposite sides(LL). On the other side, Spirit and Wraiths icons are furthest apart(ES2).

Revenge being between their parents' personas.(D.L)

Seablings!(ES1)

Aeor and Exor, still fighting after many, many years but purely out of fun and habit now.(ES1)

Mumbo works for both the heroes and vigilantes, but Jrum and Grum are working on opposite sides, for opposite "parents."(HC)

The hierarchy square, the main heroes in the middle, supports at the bottom, and leaders + B at the top.

[carraways-son]

Jeudi

Voilà, c'est ça : "Le corps traversé de fleuves et la tête venteuse..." ('Alina Reyes, La Chasse amoureuse). Je relis aussi : "Mais comment raconter la vie d'un homme autrement que par la confusion ? Comment mettre en ordre ce fleuve jailli de nulle part, pour citer une phrase de W.G. Sebald, ne se jetant nulle part et dont les eaux incessamment refluent en elles-mêmes ? " (Philippe Romon, Parlez-moi de Carver). Enfin, serrée comme un caillou au creux du poing, cette promesse vainement réitérée : " Faire au moins une fois ce qu'on ne fait jamais. Suivre, ne serait-ce qu'un jour, une heure, un autre chemin que celui où le caractère nous a mis." (Christian Bobin, Autoportrait au radiateur). Et puis se débrouiller avec les mots qui volent, les sentiments qui se tordent, et tout ce qui s'échappe. Je n'ai pas aimé octobre, je déteste novembre et n'attends rien de décembre ou janvier. Pourtant, attendre est un luxe au-dessus de mes moyens. Alors je distrais mon impatience. Cet après-midi, j'ai passé un agréable moment sur les ondes courtes, où j'ai contacté facilement la Californie et l'île Maurice.

[shirohige-pirates]

Just Like Fire

CisFem Reader x Portgas D. Ace

CW: angst, language, erotic, violence, serial killer, stalking, poisoning, over-bearing controlling parents, attempted forced marriage, possible dub-con, Munchausen by proxy (aka Factitious Disorder), wildly cute and fluffy despite the warnings. 18+ only

Summary: You're Sabo's biological sister in this AU. After college you moved in with your dear brother and his two sworn brothers in order to avoid going back home. You and Sabo despise your family equally.

Chapter 13: Building Collapse

“Yeah. Look, run it by Marco.” Ace says into the phone after some back and forth with Luffy. Even though you’re on the roof, he’s had you wearing the oxygen mask. “Oh hey, been listening in already? That makes it easier.”

Ace gives you a reassuring smile, holding onto your hand while he talks.

“Yeah, that would be a little safer, but you’d be on camera.” Ace responds to something Marco had said and there was a moment of silence before you heard the conversation resume. “Fair and valid, but I’m just fire, I’m not --.” He goes silent and you can hear Marco’s aggravation through the phone.

“It’s the best we have. We don’t have a 21-story ladder. There’s smoke coming up and out of the stairwell, I can’t back down that way. I felt the shift.

“Wait, that’s it! The building isn’t structurally sound! Evacuate everyone a block back.” Ace says. “Yeah it’ll take some time, but if I stay connected to Luffy we can coordinate inside of a couple seconds, that’s enough… Perfect.”

“Hey Luff. No, you can’t talk to her right now, her voice is shot to shit for one.” Ace lets go of your hand and stands up. He’s moving around the roof, looking over the edges, and checking things again. It’s the third time he’s done it since you got up on the roof. “She’s on oxygen. Let Sabo know she’s unhurt before he pops a vein.”

Ace moves the speaker away from his mouth as he crouches down by you. He puts his hand against your forehead for the second time, and returns the smile you give him at the gesture.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He says, brushing your hair back. “We’ll get you – oh, crap.” He puts the phone back to his mouth. “Luffy! Luffy! Hey, yeah, put Sabo on… Hey, call that guy, we’re going to have to take her to the hospital per procedure. He’s gotta be there. Right, yeah, okay.” Ace lets out a sigh of relief and then smiles at you.

“So, it’s not illegal to use our abilities,” he starts to explain. “But, well, there’s a lot of shit around it, right? So even though people might know someone is cursed, they can go their whole lives without knowing how. Even if someone’s abilities come to light, they still avoid using them unless they have to. Just the way things have worked out.” He adds, seeing the distressed look on your face.

“They’re going to push the civilians back. I’m going to put you over my shoulders, they call it a fireman’s carry,” he grins. “And then comes the hard part.”

“You’re going to jump off the roof.” You say evenly, pulling the mask down to be sure you’re heard.

Ace almost laughs. “I knew you were going to know. Yeah. I can’t fly, but I can slow our descent. Luffy’s going to catch us. You’ve barely seen what he can do, but trust me-.”

“I do.” You look away despite your answer, but it’s more because it’s embarrassing to say. “I trust both of you as much as I do Sabo.” You look back toward him, seeing his face dusted pink. “Will… you be okay?”

“Yeah. Out of everyone involved in this plan, I’ll be safest.” He says it a little guiltily, but you visibly relax at the declaration. “Look, I have really good control of my fire, but it is still fire.”

“You… turn into fire. You don’t produce it?”

“Ah, both. I mean, where there’s fuel to burn – oxygen or whatever else – I can ignite it and use it. The W.G. gets nervous when I use my curse, considering I could effectively burn the world.”

“I can’t say it wouldn’t be deserved.” You admit, coughing a little. You’re talking too much and so you lean back, putting the mask back on for now.

Ace smirks at you. “Sabo says the same thing. Yeah, I’m here Lu, what’s up?”

“Alright. Yeah. The alley-side? No, that makes sense… Smoker, huh? Really? That’s great news! Yeah, okay – I’ll listen for it, I have to hang up anyway to do my part. Hey, one for – yeah, okay, you got it.”

Ace ends the call and lets you tuck the phone back into your pocket. You look at him curiously.

“When Luffy’s ready they’re gonna sound the truck horn. One honk means he’ll be where I expect him to be. Two honks mean he’ll be on a different side, three for the other side. Also, we’re getting an assist from the only local marine I’d ever dare to trust, so there’s less likelihood someone will see me turn to fire.”

Ace crouches down in front of you. “We’ll have to leave the oxygen behind.” He nudges the backs of his knuckles against your cheek and gives you a sheepish smile. “If you throw up on me, I’ll forgive you, so don’t panic, okay?”

Ace gives you another few moments with the oxygen before taking it away. He talks you through a fireman’s carry, and gets you draped over his shoulders.

“Just relax, try and stay as comfortable as you can.” He says as he walks closer to the roof’s edge. “Let me do all the work.”

You try to say okay, but you end up coughing for so long that Ace adjusts you so you’re more upright for a moment until it passes. You settle with patting him on the back as you slump back into him.

Another minute passes and you hear the unmistakable sound of the firetruck’s horn. You hadn’t doubted that Ace would hear it, so far up, but you were surprised how loud it still sounded.

After a beat, there was only one honk, and Ace ran a couple steps before leaping over the roof’s edge. The takeoff was a little rough from your perspective, but you held onto his fire jacket and hid your face in his sleeve.

Maybe one day you’d have the desire to watch the skyline as you were hurled off a building, but today was not that day.

Wind battered you both, but then you heard – more than felt – the roar of Ace’s feet and legs turning into fire. You imagined he was concentrating the flames the way he had when he melted the lock, making as close to rocket thrusters as he could get.

The roar of the fire was almost as loud as the wind that was tearing past you as you descended. You could feel him moving and adjusting as you fell in the most surreal mix of controlled, and completely uncontrolled, descent ever. His grip on you stayed constant, but you could feel his body tensing and twisting as he adjusted and maneuvered.

You know he says something at one point, but you can only feel the rumble of his voice from your position against him. Whatever meaning was in the words was lost on you, and thankfully, you didn’t need to do anything.

There was a flicker of light and for a split-second Ace was gone, but in the time it took your eyes to open, he was already grabbing hold of you again. He lands into what looks like a giant tan balloon. You hear him grunt from the impact as the two of you sink deep enough that everything goes dark before you’re thrown back into the air.

Ace doesn’t let go.

“Couple more times!” He yells as you fall back into the massive soft balloon.

Your brain catches up to everything the second time you go back into the air, and you realize the massive balloon is Luffy. He’s deflating a little each time you land on him, slowly bringing you and Ace down to the street level carefully.

Once he’s small enough and you’ve stopped bouncing, Ace slides off his brother’s stomach and onto the ground. “Thanks, Luffy!”

Ace has you in his arms in a cradle carry, and you’re shaking. “You alright?”

You nod, but the shivering doesn’t subside. You aren’t convulsing, and you don’t feel cold, but your whole body’s trembling. You were already exhausted, but the shivering was making it worse. Your senses start to go fuzzy, and you can’t manage much more than holding onto the collar of Ace’s uniform. You can feel the vibrations of him talking, you’re sure of it, and somewhere Sabo’s voice slips along the edges of your comprehension, but you can’t clearly hold onto any of it.

You’re beyond overloaded, and way past your limits. You weren’t even sure how you were still conscious. You were safe, and alive, and Ace was okay too. He started to set you down at one point and you grabbed onto him out of reflex.

Some part of you was convinced you’d end up back in the burning building if you let go of him.

He said something, you weren’t sure what, and his warm hand against the side of your face helped you relax a little. The warm kiss on your forehead, like a magic spell, broke all the fears inside you, and without the tension to keep you awake you passed out.

[averageresidentsenjoyer]

Hi guys guess what I made

Also I finished W.G. Gaster's design in this AU of mine. (it might change later.)

I make it 8-bit but I'll draw him later.

I have the whole AU written out but that'll be in a different post.

[astrcthesiai-archived]

MiraLaw for the ship meme too?

How did they first meet? During an auction on one of the islands. They agreed things were fucked. After meeting a few times, Law caught Mira sneaking backstage to free the merchandise.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Mira caught feelings first but was cautious.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Yes, and very much so. They have a tendency to mirror one another.

Who initiated their feelings first? Mira. She took one for the team.

Who said “I love you” first? Mira, her love language is stealing important documents and sneaking them to her beloved. Mira does not want the one piece. She just wants to cause problems. She is a bomb waiting to go off.

Who gets jealous easily? Mira is the likeliest because one of her themes is the carnal sin, envy. Though surprisingly they don’t need to reassure each other often. If they do, they have a code and a long list of safe words to use to communicate with each other.

Who is more protective? Both would kill for the other.

Who remembers the little things? Both are meticulous and remember, although I feel Law would like to tease.

Who talks about their feelings more? I think Mira has to bite the bullet and take one for the team. Law has surprised her.

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines? I don’t know, I think both of them periodically to get a good laugh from the other.

What does a first date look like for them? For a formal date…Modern au’s I can see them go to a murder mystery show or an escape room as their first. That or have a calm game of chess over coffee. They’re both strategists. That or sparring. They need a good feel for how the other thinks and acts. For a casual, they’d meet over coffee on a small island.

What do they like to do together? Causing the W.G. problems of course, catch up (they’re both captains and their crews come first), take walks, and show each other improvements to their ships. I think Law is super proud of his sick bay on his hybrid submarine. Their crew likes talking together as well. Mira listens to Law’s troubles on the Thousand Sunny, but is relieved he got on well with the Strawhats. Their own crews are also chaotic, so they talk of their crew mates’ shenanigans.

Which one gets angry the most, leaving the other to calm them down? Both, and they take turns calming the other down. If she can’t get Law to calm down, she gets Bepo. Luffy or Chopper of the Strawhats might help too. In Lami’s survival verse, when Mira can’t get him to calm down she gets Lami. Law would probably go to Jasper, Nerissa, or Crimson for help. The familiar notes of their favorite and respective brands of coffee also helps.

Do they like PDA? Briefly, and it’s probably just hand-holding when they feel they’re safe. They’re both wanted criminals. Albeit, Mira is lesser known than Law. They are going to want to keep their relationship a secret as much as possible. Not as big as Luffy’s or Ace’s, but big enough. Their union is a big fuck you to the World Government, and we all know how liberal Law is with the middle finger…

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements? Law does not want to admit it, but he has been the little spoon a few times. Otherwise, Law is the big spoon and Mira is the little spoon.

Does one like the cuddle more than the other? I think so. And it’s Law, but the man won’t admit it.

Who hogs the blankets? I’ll say Mira, as Law comes from the North Blue and is resistant to the cold.

Who’s more likely to initiate sex? Both would take turns. I feel like it’s not often, despite the high libido.

Who’s the kinkiest? They both discovered they are both pretty kinky. They compete I think when it comes to bondage rigs. Mira is mostly a sub, but she can get off as a domme.

Who is the top and bottom in their sex life? Are they interchangeable? They are technically switches, but Law is largely a top and Mira is a bottom.

Who likes giving and who likes receiving oral? Both want the other to enjoy and relax. They both enjoy giving.

Can they last more than one round? I think they can, but they probably get interrupted by their respective crews. It just comes with being a captain.

Which one is a morning person? Neither. They’re both night owls, and I see them often staying up together. Mira enjoys reading Law’s medical library.

Do either of them like to cook? I think they are too busy to cook, but when they do, I think they think of it as a moment to catch up. Mira is likely the cook in the pair. Law likes preparing the ingredients. Again, when they get time.

If they get married, who proposes first? I picture them kind of like Edward Elric’s and Winry’s proposal. That or one of them sneaking a “marry me” in a tome and sliding it to the other to read.

What kind of wedding do they have? Private and very personal. Their crews look after them and their allies gather. Both of them wear black.

Does anyone object to their relationship? The World Government certainly does. Luffy and the Strawhats think of Mira and her crew as more nakama if they don’t already thanks to Mira’s ties with the RA.

Do they have any kids? I think they might opt out of having kids, considering the dangers and stress of being apart. If they do have children, it’s likely two at most. I can see one of them being a boy, but I’m soft for Law with a daughter. Names are picked in honor of their deceased loved ones. They probably like bread thanks to Lami in her survival au.

Do they have any pets? Can probably see them befriending a snow leopard.

[joliettebln]

KÖHLER:

Warum haben so wenige Schriftsteller der nachfolgenden Generationen sich an das Thema gemacht?

Meine eigene Antwort: Weil ihre Väter den Eid geschworen hatten - und sich daran hielten… und sie selbst erkannten, dass ihre Fragen nicht nur nicht erwünscht waren - sie hatten keine Fragen zu stellen.

SEBALD:

Dieses Defizit reiht sich ein in eine lange Reihe von anderen Defiziten, nämlich in die Tatsache, daß überhaupt zu wenig nachgedacht worden ist über diese Zeit. Man kann sich ja aus der deutschen Nachkriegsliteratur kaum eine auch nur halbwegs zureichende Vorstellung machen von dem Ausmaß der Verheerung und noch weniger über das mit diesen Verheerungen verbundene Grauen.

Ich glaube, Sebald denkt beim Benennen des Grauens an Primo Levi. Und an die verhungerten Säuglinge, Mütter und Kleinkinder auf dem Land.

Bemerkenswert ist seine Wortwahl „Verheerungen“ denn es war das glorifizierte Heer, nach dem bis heute die Straße in Charlottenburg benannt ist, das die schlimmsten Verbrechen am eigenen Volk beging. Darf man dieses Wort in diesen Zeiten eigentlich wieder verwenden? (Ironie off)

Die Kehrseite davon war das so genannte deutsche Wirtschaftswunder.

Das Wort schmeckt nach mehrmaligem Gebrauch ähnlich fad wie „Reichskristallnacht“.

Enzensberger hat darauf verwiesen, daß man die rätselhafte Energie der Deutschen nicht begreife, wenn man sich gegen die Einsicht sträubt [sic!], daß sie ihren Defekt zur Tugend erhoben haben.

Die Bewußtlosigkeit [schreibt er,] war die Bedingung ihres Erfolgs.

Die Quelle der psychischen Energie aber ist das Geheimnis von den in die Grundfesten des deutschen Staates eingemauerten Leichen. Ein Geheimnis, das die Deutschen nach dem Krieg fester aneinander band und noch immer bindet als jede positive Zielsetzung, etwa die Verwirklichung der Demokratie, das jemals vermochte.

W.G. Sebald: „Auf ungeheuer dünnem Eis.“ Darin: Katastrophe mit Zuschauer. Gespräch mit Andrea Köhler (1997). S.163f.

[delfiris]

Et ne serait-il pas pensable, poursuivit Austerlitz, que nous ayons aussi des rendez-vous dans le passé, dans ce qui a été et qui est déjà en grande part effacé, et que nous allions retrouver des lieux et des personnes qui, au-delà du temps d'une certaine manière, gardent un lien avec nous ?      W.G. Sebald, Austerlitz (2002)

[davidfarreny]

VIII.2019 — Fuir au Nord, 271

« Jadis en Argentine, il m’est arrivé de naviguer sur le haut Parana — fleuve aux méandres largement étalés — accueillant en moi avec un sentiment de tension atroce des paysages que chaque tournant du cours d’eau renouvelait — comme s’ils avaient pu m’affaiblir ou me rendre plus puissant, et ce n’est pas autrement que, durant les longues années de mon travail littéraire, je scrutais du regard le monde, cherchant à savoir si mon Temps me confirme ou au contraire m’abolit. » (W.G.)

[stranded-labyrinth]

forgive my intrusion, but i'm bored and saw this post at the same time so now it will be your problem

please consider, an AU in which Abigail did, in fact, call Will from the cliff house.

she doesn't know what will happen, but the reality of Abigail is that she is only complacent when she believes herself to be safe. the updates she receives from an all too optimistic Hannibal don't signify to her that things are going as well as he thinks. Hannibal has spent months pouring the idea into her head of Will being her father, and while she's well aware that Will has imagined himself in the place of her biological father, she also knows from what Hannibal has told her of Will's condition that he did not take her "death" well.

Will would not kill her. Hannibal, she still isn't sure. she knows which father actually reminds her of her previous one, versus which one has only been told that he is similar.

she calls Will, and the chaos is nearly immediate.

Will doesn't show up for his appointment, but this time, it isn't immediately known that he would be at the academy, he doesn't work there anymore, and he is no longer in prison. Hannibal checks his home, only to find that barren of any humanity, save for a note to Alana to please care for his dogs once more.

Hannibal considers the frustration that had still been within Will, very much making itself known. he considers that it may not have been realistic to expect it to completely sort itself out. perhaps Will needed some stronger pushes towards Hannibal after his release than Hannibal had anticipated. either way, he doesn't know where Will has gone, and that presents an issue.

he drives to the cliff house, intending to relay the change of course to Abigail. she has been in on his plans every step of the way, they were meant to be a family together after all. if anyone deserves to know that her future father has made himself missing, it's her.

except he finds a note there, too.

no words, no angrily scrawled message with calloused hands, nor teenage handwriting. but it's enough regardless.

-W.G.

and the message is clear regardless.

you can't have either of us anymore.

he doesn't know how to tell how he is feeling. he can't quite call it devastated, betrayed, hurt, but he can't quite call it excited, fascinated, curious. he wonders if this is truly meant to be an eternal departure, if this was a twist of the knife, or if the skilled fisherman knew exactly which bait to use.

only one way to find out, and dear Will was gravely mistaken if he thought he could run forever.

What the heck did Abigail do at Hannibal's house all day???

she reads some books, watches old black-and-white french and italian new wave movies from hannibal’s collection, listens to the records he keeps stocked in alphabetical order (they’re all classical and opera, but she finds a few popular modern albums he clearly bought for her, and this makes her feel something heavy and unendurable in her chest) and tinkering with the piano, suspended between worlds and times and lives. sometimes she sits by the phone for hours at a time thinking about calling will just so that some kinetic force will thrust itself into this liminal existence she’s living, ripples exploding outward on the once-unmoving surface of a lake, life flooding into her once-dead and wasted limbs. she never does. she simply waits, and waits, and waits.

[n-sani-tea]

Gaster was one that ended up getting a redesign, i love how this oene turned out with all his assistante floating around him, and the surgical saw in his head.

Gaster:

(Before mercy) Speaks only in sign language. The hands coming out from his back each have  a black hole where the void he comes from excretes. Via them he can produce portals where he can teleport through. Wherever they appear the environment slightly distorts or glitches, discolouring into a lifeless grey before bleeding to black. His very presence alone enough causing it. The followers that float around his presence assist him in attacking the player. Is very disoriented about his position so is attacking out of confusion, can bend time to his will

(after mercy.) Lives with the skeleton brothers in their home and partially takes care of them (in this universe he is canonically their father.) very much an incredibly eccentric mad scientist who creates brilliant works under Asgore's work. Works with Alphys in the lab to make new inventions with his lab assistants.

[almostshadydelusion]

Hannigram Soulmate mark AU where it has either initials or a name on your body that only you can show to other people otherwise it’s just blank. You have to actively choose to show it. And you only become aware of the mark when you see or hear your soulmate or even hear something related to them (a piece of music they composed etc.)

Hannibal’s mark appears the moment Will steps into the office, a neatly printed W.G. He doesn’t realise it until he’s home and steps out of the shower to see it above his heart. He knows about it the whole time and he’s his usual smug self.

Will’s doesn’t appear then. It appeared years earlier when he first saw the Ripper’s work in the paper. Will has multiple names written on his body, the first being the Ripper’s on his left wrist, the next Il Mostro (which appeared on his right wrist after briefly spying the name on some fbi files) and finally, A cursive H.L. above his heart. Hannibal never brings it up so Will assumes it’s one sided. But mostly Will doesn’t want Hannibal to be mixed up in his weird three way soulmate deal with two serial killers.

Hannibal assumes Will is unaware, perhaps it had appeared on his back or somewhere he wouldn’t think to check. He uses that in his manipulations. When it all clicks for Will he lets out a simple soft ‘oh’ as the puzzle pieces click.

He keeps it from Hannibal all through season 2. And those events play out the same. Will debates telling Hannibal in season 3 but he’s so tired and all he wants is to be a good person (to not have a serial killer for a soulmate). He didn’t want to think about it, he send Hannibal away. Hannibal is tired too. He thinks it’s a one way soulmate bond but he wants Will to defy fate and join him anyway. He turns himself in. Season 3 part two happens, they fall, they survive.

It’s a year later and they’ve both healed. They’re building trust. And Hannibal being his usual pretentious self, waxes poetry about defying soulmates, and it’s another oh moment for Will. He never told him. He asks Hannibal to show him his soulmate bond. And then Will shows him his in return.

[amnesia-filled-gardens]

Small and short animation of how my September has been ft my silly cat mascot (and sound effects !!)

Watchers Guide to Humanity, my sweet beloved, how I missed you 🫶

Yeah, so Marvel hyperfixation came back absolutely punching(DDVAU has NOT helped either) and now mixed back up with my interest in HC and restarted my very first-pretumblr-messily written in notes app to the point I hit the word limit-fic, Watchers Guide to Second Chances, now renamed Watchers Guide to Humanity. It's barely been written out properly, but is being THROUGHLY. planned out and thought through and I am so very excited. I'm still working on other fics(Communications being reworked due to pacing issues,The Singing Continued still being pre-written, and the Deer and the Cod series being uploaded whenever), but for now, W.G.T.H is my main project. Screenshots from the end under cut!

These are the ending screenshots of the social circles and alter egos!! More screenshots with jobs, families and species will be shared in the future! None of the art belongs to me, it was all found scrolling through Tumblr tags, and is being used as placeholders till I can finish my character references :D

[mtgc858]

Made a bunch of random ocs for a memeverse au lol

The video is what I put on youtube btw.

All in ordor.

Trolly

Trolly my beloved :)

I made him as a chef for my brother's trollge video.

But he isn't he just was for the video lol

Creep Troll

Made this guy in the background of the same video and the eye being slightly red was a mistake that worked XD

Rage Troll :)

The one from my incident "Troll face vs Fly" this is what happened afterwards were he moved in with his friends house.

Dirproll

I love this little dude :)

I said he only exist in a au cause he comes in a au were Trollface married Dirpina and they had a son lol.

Glitch Troll(Eye strain tw)

Just look at him....He is a beloved.

Error Troll

Made a glow up meme with him in it to which I was going to make him a bad guy but nvm.

W.G Clone

Like his info says he is a clone of Weeping.G. and is much smaller and weaker,He still has abillies but not as god liks of course.

Meep

Just a shadow fluff ball :3

[cheminer-poesie-cressant]

phrase équilibre, phrase douceur perdue au milieu de milliers d’autres, mots qui ont fleuri le long de la rivière roman ; juste phrase pour tout chanter, faire basculer les images, au point rayonnant, sommet jamais atteint, douleur éternelle en ses étendues, son miroir qui renverra toujours le refrain lumière :

«Au moment des adieux, elle me prit dans ses bras et dit : Là-bas, en face, il y a le parc Stromovka. Tu iras de temps en temps t’y promener pour moi, dis ? J’ai tellement aimé ce bel endroit. Peut-être, si tu regardes dans l’eau sombre des étangs, peut-être qu’un beau jour tu y apercevras mon visage.»                                                                                                                  W.G. Sebald, Austerlitz

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(Maurice Chabas, le grand canal en Juin, huile sur toile)

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le seul élément de la vie qu’elle veut garder après son passage, qu’elle veut léguer à ses proches, non pas un objet, non pas une photographie, non pas un écrit, non juste le souvenir de son passage en un lieu, son reflet en un jardin... qu’un autre puisse après elle, juste après cette phrase, profiter avec autant de joie de ce beau lieu qu’elle aimait tant, sa dernière volonté, léguer cet amour avant sa mort et que cet amour puisse ainsi refleurir chez une autre personne, se perpétuer ainsi le long des allées du grand parc, autour de ses clairs ou sombres plans d’eau, au pied de ses collines, à jamais

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«C’est près de l’eau que j’ai le mieux compris que la rêverie est un univers en émanation, un souffle odorant qui sort des choses par l’intermédiaire d’un rêveur»                                                                                                                                                                                     Gaston Bachelard, l’eau et les rêves        

[robertstripling]

lichtanker steigen der gelben Haarqualle die Tentakeln ab, himmelwärts am offenen Fenster : winzige Lichtlein winken übers Hausdach, flitzen; LICHTE LICHTKAMMER, ich schau’ raus auf die Osternacht, kann keine Geschichten mehr hören, sage ich zu Yv, durchschaubare Architektur, Wellenstruktur; ich will mich hingeben auf die Sprachheimsuchung – darauf soll man sich verlassen!; widerspenstig / gespenstisch die weiße Taube auf dem Osterdach oder »nach der Natur« (W.G. Sebald), nach den Naturen – glimmende Fieberträume, glimmende Faberträume, Handwerker der Sprache, aus dem inneren der Sprache, dem Bergwerk, dem Bollwerk, leicht wie Sittiche, wie dunkle Trauben, mit dem gierigen Mund, in die klebrigen Finger, die ganze Habsucht der Sprache, Habgier, ich meine, ich zweifle mich in die Leichtigkeit,

[davidfarreny]

XII.2020

« De temps à autre, l’un ou l’autre de nos camarades s’évapore de la sorte ; alors, enfonçant la tête entre les épaules, nous disons : — Euh… (que peut-on dire d’autre) ; et une légère consternation flotte dans l’air. Pourtant, dans notre belle majorité, nous tous, employés, sommes déjà en train de mourir. Nous qui avons passé la quarantaine, chaque année plus vieux d’une année. Au cimetière, […] chacun de nous se supportait lui-même tel un sac rempli de décès. » (W.G.)