#i saw there's an english language one in vienna

[airenyah]

i don't want new bbs special eps i just want to watch all of แค่เพื่อน​ครับ​เพื่อน​ BAD BUDDY SERIES (2021) live on a weekly basis for the very first time again

[kioneira]

AusHun Week Day 7 - Free Day

Cus I got a new computer setup literally yesterday i'm not able to do any art for them. Sooo I'm blessin you all with my Headcanons about these two!

Old as Time hc, These two own a small apartament somwhere in between the borders of their countires. At first it was just for meeting purposes but now they fully live there togheter. It's not big or really elegant. It's small two bedroom apartament where one room was turned into a study cus Roderich need to keep the piano somwhere.

Roderich learned all of Liszt compositons, just so Erzsi could feel closer to home when she had to stay in Vienna.

My own personal hc is that Erzsi actually knows how to paint, (I once saw it in a fanficton where she was an art's teacher and I fell in love with it) And becouse of that most paintings in their homes are made by her (or Felicano, Yes Roderich kept them, they practically raised that boy what did you expect)

Roderich own's a Painting of Erzsi in his home in Vienna, It's in his study hanging behind his desk (I painted that painting actually here's link)

Even though at first the Nobles of Vienna tried to make a Lady out of Erzsi, She never became one. Girlie stole a horse once or twice (or even more times) and when she finally got caught Roderich decided to finally get her, her own horse so she wouldn't have to sneek out all the time, and of course to get those people off her.

These two think they're sneaky but everyone, i mean everyone knows that they're still together.

You need someone to put your hair in a neat hairstyle, Call Roderich, This man learned how to braid, style and just take care of Erzsi hair so it would be easier for her to take care of it

Roderich is the taller one, It dosen't mean that he's the stronger one, oh no. Erzsi is the one opening jars there.

I have lot's of other hc about them but i pulled out my fav one's so enjoy

@hetalia-aushun-week

Also here's one of the songs that i have on my playlist inspired by them.

please ignore any language mistakes i made, english isn't my first language

[lego-man-speer]

Nuremberg Defendants: Part 3, Baldur von Schirach - Leader of the Hitler Youth

The next part of my Nuremberg Defendants series! Unfortunately I couldn't get this out in time for von Schirach's birthday, but regardless I've finally gotten around to writing it.

To check out the previous parts to my series (including the separate post I made about Rudolf Hess), click the names below!

Rudolf Hess

Alfred Rosenberg

Joachim von Ribbentrop

-Baldur Benedikt von Schirach was born on the 9th of May 1907 and was born to an American mother and a German-American father. Interestingly, Schirach was in fact more American than he was German. His first language was English and did not learn German until around the age of 5-7 (sources differ on this). Schirach had three siblings in total: two sisters and a brother who committed suicide in 1919 (aged 19).

-Schirach was too young to have served in the First World War, yet nationalist ideas were drilled into him through his nationalistic parents. After the war, Schirach's father was dismissed as the Director of the Weimar Court Theatre and was renamed the National Theatre. Anyone who was a critic of the Weimar regime was welcome at the Schirach's home. This would be how the young Schirach came to meet Hitler (who was still then merely a preacher). Schirach was so impressed by Hitler that he wrote a poem about him (and many more in the future) and had it published in a newspaper (he later considered this poem one of his 'bad poems'). Hitler became a sort of father figure for the young Schirach.

-Schirach joined the NSDAP on his 18th birthday in 1925. At university, Schirach studied German Studies and Art History before dropping out to dedicate more time to the Nazi movement. Schirach's mother hoped that he would take a different path in life however. She had expected her son to stay in the US and work for his great-uncle's bank or go into American politics.

-At the age of 24 Schirach was made leader of the Hitlerjugend, from here Schirach would go on to become Reichsminister for Youth Education and then Youth Leader of the Reich. Soon every youth organisation would have to yield to Schirach.

-Hitler saw little use of the Youth since they were unable to vote, whereas Schirach took a different view. The Hitler Youth would take up the free time of German kids, allowing them to be fully indoctrinated by Nazi ideology. It was Schirach's idea in 1932 to gather every available member of the Hitler Youth for a mass rally in Potsdam in 1932. This was done to impress Hitler.

-As Youth Leader, Schirach always claimed that joining the Hitler Youth was voluntary, however this was never really the case. Those who did not want to join (or whose parents forbade them from joining) were shut out and would later be disadvantaged when choosing a school or career.

-In 1932 Schirach married Henrietta Hoffmann, the daughter of Hitler's personal photographer Heinrich Hoffmann). Together they had four children: Angelika, Klaus, Robert and Richard. His wife later divorced him in 1949.

-In the Second World War, Schirach voluntarily joined the army and served in the invasion of France in 1940. Schirach served in the Großdeutschland Infantry Regiment as a Junior NCO before being commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant, being an Infantry Platoon Commander. He was later awarded the Iron Cross 2nd Class for bravery. He saw about two months active service before being recalled by Hitler for a new task.

-In 1940 Schirach was made Gauleiter of Vienna. His first task as Gauleiter was to calm the bitterness that had grown under his predecessor Josef Bürckel. Bürckel was not a well-liked and was referred to as “Beer-leiter Yokel”. He was often “drunk, brutal and boorish”. At first, the people of Vienna were pleased to see Schirach. His successor as leader of the Hitler Youth was Arthur Axmann.

-As Gauleiter of Vienna, Schirach played an active role in the Holocaust. In total he deported 75,000 Viennese Jews to concentration camps. He tried to convince that he knew nothing of the Holocaust, however documents have since suggested otherwise. In October 1940, Schirach complained to Hitler of 50,000 Viennese Jews who had to be “taken off his hands”. In March 1941 he demanded of Himmler that he immediately recommences the deportations that were briefly suspended. In a 1942 speech, Schirach enthused of a “Jew-free Vienna” by the autumn of that year. Although Schirach complained about the conditions under which Jews were deported, he was very much in support of the deportations.

-Schirach's wife tried to appeal humanity to Hitler at the Berghof after witnessing an incident in Amsterdam in which Jewish women and children were being taken away. This resulted in a huge quarrel between the two and Frau von Schirach was never invited to the Berghof again.

-As the war came to end and when Vienna could no longer be held, Schirach fled to Tyrol while instructing those still in Vienna to fight till the last man. While in hiding he went by the Alias 'Richard Falk', a crime novel writer, before handing himself over to the Allies.

-At Nuremberg he was the youngest defendant (aged 38). He was indicted under two counts of the Nuremberg indictment, count 2 (Crimes Against Peace - by building up the Hitler Youth) and count 4 (Crimes Against Humanity). Schirach, like the other war criminals at Nuremberg, rejected the validity of the Tribunal until after seeing the atrocity videos (as well as some convincing from Albert Speer to apologise). He was found guilty of Crimes Against Humanity and sentenced to 20 years in Spandau Prison.

-Schirach completed his 20 year sentence on midnight 1st of October 1966. During his sentence in prison he suffered from problems with his right eye and needed surgery to save it. This surgery was however unsuccessful and Schirach was left blind in that eye. Henriette had tried to lobby lowering her ex-husband's sentence but was unsuccessful (and unlike other prisoners, Schirach had no one else to lobby for his release). After his release, Schirach gave a few interviews both in German and in English and released his memoirs “Ich glaubte an Hitler” (I Believed in Hitler).

-From 1971 until his death, Schirach resided in Kröv where he was cared for by two former BDM leaders. He died of coronary thrombosis on the 8th of August 1974, aged 67. His gravestone read “Ich war einer von Euch” (I was one of you). His gravestone was removed in 2015, just four years after the removal of Rudolf Hess's gravestone.

OBLIGATORY MENTION: This post is purely educational and is in no way supportive of any right-wing ideologies.

[gellertalbus]

Hi! What’s your take on Gellert childhood and Durmstrang years?

❗ long post warning ❗

very VERY interesting question, thank you anon! Trying to guess Gellert's childhood is one of my fav hobbies. Let's get on with it!

Family: my headcanon is that he comes from a rich austrian pureblood family. Like his father probably worked for the austrian/german ministry or had a (boring) high position due to his family name. From his mother side, someone must've been a Seer in the past leading that part of the family to be slightly hung up on Divination while his father was more skeptical about it. They lived in Vienna but also had an old half-abandoned castle among the Alps, the future Nurmengard. Gellert absolutely loved to go there. He was an only child. Also my headcanon is that he played the violin. I read a lot of fics where Gellert plays some music instrument and it's mostly the piano, but i think the violin suits him more. I myself am a fan of violin music and the wide range of its sounds (gentle, enigmatic, elegant, epic, rough, romantic, sensual, tragic) is like Gellert's personality put into music. Also, Jamie playing the violin? That is a sight to behold!!

Looks: he has his mother's blonde curls and cherubic aura (she is a Bagshot from her mother's side, hence she's Bathilda's niece) while his chiseled features and overall facial structure come from his father.

Childhood: i imagine he was a very energic and impulsive kid, always moving, always doing something, learning, exploring, daring, spending a LOT of time on books but also outside. He often disobeyed his parents using his precocious powers whenever he wanted and not really caring about the consequences. This unsettled Herr and Frau Grindelwald, like i'm not saying they were scared of their son, but they knew Gellert was different, that he could do things other kids his age couldn't, that he was a prodigy (i just KNOW baby gellert was capable of intentional wandless magic and no one can change my mind). He received a strict education as it usually was in the 19th century, learned different languages such as english, french and russian and could dance a damn fine waltz.

The Sight: he had his first vision when he was about six/seven. They were just brief glimpses like flashes that left him very confused and shaken up. As the visions came more frequently and more unsettling he began to kinda isolate himself, being more silent and less lively. Like if you think about it, having the Sight is a very awful business, i'm not trying to justify his future actions whatsoever, just saying that waking up every day knowing that all kinds of horror and destruction might happen in the future SUCKS and that surely took a toll on his soul and personality.

Durmstrang: this is rather obvious but he was top of the class in pretty much everything, like from a certain point professors didn't know what else to teach him so he just sat at the end of the class bored as fuck. Students either feared him due to his Sight and the common knowledge he delved in Dark Magic more than the usual durmstrang policy allowed or they idolised him because of his charisma and idealism. He had friends but I'm not sure if he ever considered them as such, more like "people i happen to spend the time with". Some of them might've ended up as pawns in his grand scheme of things. Like this is one of the many factors that drew him to Albus. Being both brilliant, outstanding and always way ahead of the people around them, they surely must have felt constantly out of place, isolated, alone.

Possible trauma: Mads actually hinted at the possibility he went through some traumatic experience involving his family and the muggles hence his hate for them and i quite agree with him. Maybe his mother was killed? Both his parents? Again, give us some crumbs...

He saw Albus in his visions: this is a common headcanon and i couldn't not mention it. I think that yes he saw Albus in his visions way before he went to Godric's Hollow but did not necessarily act on it. Like he just kept Seeing him and felt a powerful connection to those blue eyes framed by gorgeous auburn hair ❤

Also, and i think we can all agree on this, Gellert is definitely a cat person right?

Thanks for your question, anon, and apologies for the rant! 🖤

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

The Auror&The Devil part 12

AesopSharpxMC (Angst, hints of fluff, TAROT READING disclamer: I'm a witch and this is my own interpretation for the fic purposes)

"Is it nice to steal, huh, young lady?" grumbled Aesop, now in his own form, dabbing Sidó's scraped knee with Wiggenweld Potion, wiping the wound with a clean cotton bud. He wasn't concerned that the girl didn't understand English; his stern expression served as a universal language.

At the beginning she was quite scared that some force incomprehensible to her had brought her back near the orphanage. Now she averted her gaze in offense, lightning bolts striking from her eyes. She didn't even flinch, although the potion must have stung her- brave, angry little fluff. Morana struggled to contain her laughter. She and the girl were indeed similar... Perhaps not in appearance, but they shared a similar spirit.

"Hmm, aj ja som chodila do tohto sirotinca a ako ty som utiekla." (Hmm, I used to go to that orphanage too, and like you, I escaped) Morana began timidly, poking her side with her finger, which immediately elicited giggles, and she gave girl a piece of smoked sausage to eat.

"Naozaj?" (Really?) she asked incredulously and eagerly began devouring the food.

"Áno. Už dávno som stratil rodinu, hľadám ju." (Yes. I lost my family a long time ago, and I've been looking for them) Morana replied, leaning against the low wall on which Aesop sat the three-year-old.

"Boli to tiež čarodejníci?" (Were they also wizards?) she asked.

"Neviem, možno." (I don't know, maybe)

Sidó pondered, and after a moment, with her mouth full, she replied, "Pretože tu žije baba yaga, možno je to tvoja mama." (Because there's a Baba Yaga living here, maybe she's your mom.)

"Ako to?" (How so?)

"Ach, v ruinách hradu. Vraj všetko vie a vidí budúcnosť." (Oh, in the castle ruins. They say she knows and sees everything about the future.)

"Budúcnost..." (The future...) Morana immediately thought of the visions she had... maybe they weren't the result of Ancient Magic, but something she inherited.

"Ako sa voláš?" (What's your name?) she asked, reaching out her hand, greasy from sausage, towards Morana's scar, which made Aesop chuckle and silently say to Morana (when her face was smudged in grease she tried to ged rid off with her sleeve), "You deserve it."

"Morana, a toto je Ezop." (Morana, and this is Aesop.)

"Mám ťa rád." (I like you) she said immediately and added, "Môžem ísť s tebou?" (Can I go with you?)

The seemingly innocent question tugged at Morana's heart. The girl's eyes were full of hope that they would indeed take her with them, wherever that might be, even though she hardly knew them. She preferred to leave with strangers than to stay where she was.

The woman's mind suddenly found itself in Vienna, several years ago.

She sat covered in hops, cowering, trembling upon hearing someone's footsteps, and when someone's hand brushed aside the cones, she saw the face of an older man. He looked at her with surprise, and the kindly gleam in his eyes made her trust him.

"Shhh, calm down, little one. Don't be afraid of me," he said gently and sat her on a barrel. She was missing a shoe, which she had lost somewhere. She didn't understand his words then, but the tone of his voice was very soft and calmed her. He pulled out a checkered handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her dirty face. "Where is (he pointed to Morana) mama... hmmm mutter?"

Morana shook her head, indicating that she was an orphan.

Mr. Dimm scratched his head, surprised by the whole situation. Thoughts raced through his head; he looked into her crystal blue eyes, big and sad, knowing that this child was a blessing from heaven. Before him sat a beautiful girl, the long-awaited child they had dreamed of with Lyra for years.

As soon as they heard footsteps and voices, Morana grabbed his big hand and hid behind him. At that moment, he completely fell for her. Someone wanted to harm her? Over his dead body. He lifted her up and wiped her tears away. For a few moments, they looked into each other's eyes, their fates intertwined.

...Sidó looked at Morana and Aesop alternately, waiting for an answer.

"What did she ask?"

"She wants to go with us."

"Oh..." Aesop let out, also touched by the question, and began to think feverishly. "Well... it's not really a good idea... Where would she live? With whom? You... You're studying, you have plans for the future, and I... I'm old and alone... I work a lot... It wouldn't work out..." he started, as if for a moment, he really considered the idea. Morana sadly shook her head; it didn't make sense. A three-year-old wasn't a puppy to "hang around" with them... And even a puppy should have better care. It was out of the question!

Morana picked her up without a word, and the three of them started silently toward the orphanage. Sidó wet the woman's shoulder with tears, intertwining her hands in her hair, which she clung to tightly, causing Morana's heart to ache. Aesop, following them, saw the sad look in the girl's eyes and did everything not to look at her, knowing that in a moment, he would completely fall apart. Just before the orphanage gate, he dampened a tissue with a few drops of a potion known only to him, to pretend to wipe her nose and put her into a blissful sleep, so that she wouldn't experience the parting.

They handed the sleeping Sidó over to the hands of sister Illuminata, Aesop took care of it with one of the spells, so that the nun would forget that she had seen them and that Sidó had escaped.

"Ugh, how much I'd give for a glass of whiskey... Or three," he muttered as they walked away from the gate and gently stroked Morana's shoulder, who walked beside him in silence, with her head down. "What's on your mind?"

"Ehhhhh..." she grumbled. "I feel terrible. I want to cry. I've had enough."

"Hmm... We can always visit her from time to time, support her financially in her future education. Ask if anyone among our friends would like to adopt her... Does that thought comfort you at least a little?"

"Maaaaaybe," she muttered, then added. "It's good that you're down-to-earth. Your ideas always comfort me..."

Aesop smiled; Morana's words stroked his ego and made it purr.

"She's safe, she has food, nothing's happening to her. Even though that nun, whatever her name is, the Illuminata sister, is terrible, she won't harm her, she takes care of the children - that's what my intuition says, although, well, I'll admit, those big dark eyes made me ready to run away with her for a moment." he laughed. "My next brilliant idea is: let's get back to why we came here... I heard her mention something about Baba Yaga, that's a Slavic term for a witch, isn't it? I saw that it caught your interest."

Morana nodded and sent him a smile.

"The ruins of the castle are nearby; according to Sidó, a witch lives in them who sees the future..."

"Mmmm," Aesop became interested. "Interesting... How far is it?"

"About 5-6 hours from here by foot, I recall those ruins from local legends... people said that they were haunted."

"I like such legends; you immediately know there's something to them. We'll find a carriage and set off!"

"I'm not sure if there are carriages going straight to the castle here..."

Aesop pulled out a tiny vial with a "DANGER" label from Madame Niffleur's bag, certainly not a Polyjuice, and his sly smile seemed very suspicious to Morana. "Did you say something? We're certainly not flying there on a broomstick. Madame Niffleur can be very persuasive."

The afternoon sun, although still scorching the skin, was slowly beginning to descend. Aesop and Mora struggled to climb the slope, from the top of which the ruins of the castle watched over the surrounding hills, resembling the sleeping dragon with its uneven, elongated shape and white scales. Bright, hewn blocks of limestone, from which the fortress was built, sparkled in the light and seamlessly merged with the base of massive rocks, tightly entwined with a tangle of weeds, bushes, and sharp thorns tugging at the wizards' clothes. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Aesop conceded to the ancient architects who chose this place as an observation point and a true bastion – the view of the hillside ocean was breathtaking, but back then it was crucial for military tactics, and the numerous caves hollowed out in the rocks at the beginning of time provided shelter and were perfect for securing food. A beautiful place surrounded by the history of thousands of people who lived before them, possibly even some of Morana's ancestors... He imagined Morana in a princess's attire, but not the kind a regular princess from books about knights would wear... no... He saw her as she gazed at the green hills with her blue eyes, a just, decisive, calm ruler, but incredibly dangerous to anyone who dared to appear with a foreign banner under her walls... Pearls intertwined in jet-black hair adorned her temples. Her attire? Not just any dress in pastel colors. A gown made of leather and black silk, very comfortable, not restricting movement; a sleek scabbard tightly fastened with a belt to which the best sword and dagger would be attached; wrapped in a cloak of bear fur... which she probably hunted herself... The thought amused him somewhat and sweetened the climb. Queen Morana, the ruler of Nitra. It sounded more than good, huh.

A solitary ruler? Would she have a king? Probably not. This thought amused him again, but after a moment, another, less pleasant thought arose. Many would vie for her hand. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but in his imagination, he saw a knight from a painting that hung in his room at Hogwarts, which resembled of him... Sir Sharp of... what exactly? Hmm, Hogwarts? Aranshire? It didn't matter... He dismounted from the white steed, striding proudly in shining armor amidst the pitifully tumbling bunch of youths writhing at the feet of Queen Morana... He bowed before her, and taking her delicate hand, he brushed her ring with his lips. She smiled, and her eyes sparkled, she lifted his chin, gazing deeply into his dark eyes...

He twisted his foot on a stone, and a bolt of pain pierced his knee. He cursed soundlessly, pushing through the bushes, unable to see a path trodden by deer. Morana walked a little ahead of him, easily navigating the path...

As a disabled person, he probably wouldn't survive long in those times... Most likely, he would buckle under the weight of the armor, become a laughingstock... Not only in the past, though. He lowered his gaze, feeling another wave of uncertainty and disgust towards himself wash over him. A man in the prime of his life, yet he had to be handled like a porcelain figurine, like an old man... Men like him don't dance with princesses, they hide in the shadows and quietly fade away...

"Aesop, everything okay?" Morana's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "You seem... gloomy... Maybe you'd like a break?"

Aesop cleared his throat and shook his head. "I'm perfectly fine... It's very beautiful here, I got lost in thought... Shh!" He suddenly became cautious, as his instinct told him they weren't alone. He stopped, scanning the surroundings; they were practically at the gate. Something moved near it, a shadow. Morana spotted it too. Both exchanged knowing glances and discreetly prepared their wands.

The shadow stood still, leaning against the stone wall. An old woman in a cloak with a hood casting a shadow over the upper part of her face, leaning on a staff. She smiled mysteriously, and in the pale sunlight, her teeth gleamed with gold and silver, tufts of completely white hair grazed her wrinkled tan face. Aesop and Morana cautiously approached her and greeted her uncertainly, their wands behind their back at the ready.

"I knew you would come," she said in English, her voice carrying a strong accent, but not the one people from these parts or any Slavs had. Something Italian, maybe Spanish...

"How do you know we speak English?" Morana asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"I know everything, dear..." the old woman whispered.

Aesop became wary. "You probably heard us from afar. These empty walls must echo sound well..." he interjected, squinting, scrutinizing the woman. She laughed.

"You guessed right. My knowledge comes from what I hear and see, and I listen very attentively and observe carefully, so I know... Come, it's a sin not to welcome guests, especially if they come on business..."

"Business?" Aesop bristled.

"For what other reason would you come here?" she shrugged, leading them along the long courtyard towards a hole in the wall, which was almost blocked by fallen doors. "The castle is haunted, terrible things happen here... That's what they say, so no one comes here without good reason. And so it is. No one visits me without a reason. Only on business."

Morana and Aesop looked at each other, perplexed, not knowing what was happening. With no choice, they followed the old woman through a winding corridor illuminated by candles. Along the walls, hanging from the ceilings, were bunches of dried plants and mushrooms emitting an incredibly intoxicating scent. Lavender, rosemary... there was plenty of that here... They finally reached a small cave or a room that was once a palace cellar. It was quite cozy; the ceiling and walls were covered with carpets, there were plenty of dried plants, trinkets, vials, and jars crowding the shelves, bowls with crushed seeds, ointments, crystals, bubbling distillation flasks in which all sorts of remedies were weighed... In the old royal fireplace, a fire was burning, and above it hung a cauldron with bubbling liquid. The old woman pointed to the table with a wave of her hand. Aesop and Morana took their seats opposite her.

"I came to..." Morana began, but the stranger immediately silenced her.

"Don't say anything, be silent, I will find out myself." she said pleasantly. "What the mouth says does not always speak the heart and mind... And I must see the truth, however... For every magic, it is right to make an offering first. Magic is a gift from the ancient gods, just as they were offered sacrifices, so every use of it, like meeting a friend, should start with a gift and end with gratitude..."

She pulled out a deck of cards from her pocket and began shuffling them. Aesop moved, surprised by her words, but in a fraction of a second, everything became clear to him. "Dammit, she's a Muggle witch." He rolled his eyes and immediately turned to Mora. "We're wasting time, she's a fraud. Tarot, crystals, ointments... Uh, quackery, trying to extort money." he muttered, glaring at the witch. Morana wasn't so sure about that, her intuition, on the other hand, suggested to her that whether a fraud or not, she might have some information about what happened to her family. She took out a coin and placed it on the table.

Before Aesop could protest, the coin disappeared into the witch's pocket, and two cards appeared on the table. One by Morana, the other by him. The woman smiled mysteriously.

"Payment accepted. My question is – who are you, strangers?" she reached for two more cards and laid them below. "What did your pasts bring?" She began shuffling. "And, since you seem to work together... oh!"

From the shuffled deck, only one card shot out and fell on the table, between Morana's and Aesop's line of cards.

"...How might this future unfold for both of you?" She finished, sliding the last card down, but leaving it between Morana's and Aesop's readings.

"Ugh," Sharp grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Well, wonderful, making a fool of myself, splendid..."

The witch silenced him and turned over his card.

THE MAGICIAN

Aesop's eyebrows twitched. Not that he believed her, no, not at all, she was just a simple fortune-teller, but the coincidence intrigued him somewhat.

"Oh yes... The Magician..." the witch began. "It's a card of someone who pursues knowledge, powerful, often invisible to many, which can lead to boasting... Hmmm, it's funny, you see?" She placed a finger on the drawing, and Aesop and Morana leaned in slightly to get a better look. "All the elements that make him up lie before him on the table, as if he's about to examine them, as if he's pulling them out of himself and trying to understand them somehow... He doesn't know what to do with them, they're ready, but unused... His wealth," she pointed to the coin, "the path he has taken," she indicated the staff, "the desires, feelings, and longings he carries within," she pointed to the cup, "and his mind, sharp and extraordinary," she pointed to the sword. "It's all right here before him, yet he separates it from himself, as if he doesn't want to accept it, seeking help from above, in magic, or some 'higher knowledge,' but the answers are literally before him, within reach. He seems lost, uncertain... Is he afraid to reach for them and use them? We'll soon see why, but first, I want to get to know you, young Lady..." She paused and turned to Morana. Meanwhile, Aesop stiffened, not liking how accurate the woman's words were.

Morana's card was swiftly revealed.

THE DEVIL

"Hmm, I didn't expect to see such a card for a young, beautiful lady... But looks can be deceiving. Power surpassing that of the Magician, even black magic! However, my instinct tells me it's just a symbol... A symbol of someone seeking freedom, because you see, Lucifer defied God himself to go his own way, but... I don't see freedom here, but rather enslavement... Something that binds you and won't let go, even though the nooses around the necks of the figures visible here are completely loose and could slip off at any moment, yet they don't escape... It seems to me that something that once helped you turned out to be your false friend... Not a person, no, no... Something you deeply believe in, something whispering all possible negative scenarios into your ear... Why is that? Hm... It's time to learn about your past, shall we? Let's start with the Magician, what made you be here today, in the company of this extraordinary woman, thousands of kilometers from home?" She turned over his next card, and Aesop's stomach churned. A bloodied figure lay on the ground, literally nailed to it with swords. He heard screams and noise in his head, for a fraction of a second, he saw Sholto's dead body lying face down in a pool of blood just like the figure on the card. He averted his gaze, trying not to look at it.

"I'm so sorry..." the witch said gently, seeing how the card panicked him and immediately flipped it over so he wouldn't have to look at it. "You've encountered terrible things, Magician... Blood, suffering, despair... Your own mind has failed you, you've made a mistake somewhere, one that cost you everything... This card speaks for itself and is worse than the Death card because you see, the Death card heralds rebirth, but this... emptiness, nothingness, which clings to you. So much evil has befallen you. However, this card pertains to your past... The future is ahead of you..." She gestured to the mysterious, single card in the middle. Her gaze fell on Morana, who was absorbed in every word she said. "And what befell you, Devil?"

The card was revealed, depicting a very idyllic scene of floating cups and a happy family looking at them, as at the rainbow. However, this idyll was upside down before Morana.

"You've lost your family," the witch concluded. "That's why you can't free yourself from the past, find a place for yourself, stability, and emotions, like water from these ten upside-down cups, spill over..." The old woman looked at the last card and smiled mysteriously, lifting it without showing them what was on it. "This card ripped itself out to you, but it's up to you whether you want to know what's on it, or, judging by what I've seen, it's not the purpose of your visit..." Morana wasn't too eager, and Aesop, even more so, as he had seen enough and wanted to leave.

"I understand." The woman shuffled all the cards back into the deck and rested her intertwined hands on the table. "Magician and Devil... How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my family," Morana spoke softly. "Something happened in Nitra a years ago; suddenly I found myself in the forest one night with no memory... I'd like to find out what happened then... Maybe you remember something, or at least know someone who spoke of some strange phenomenon, I don't know... It happened on the night of January 1st to 2nd, 1875..."

Baba Yaga pondered for a moment.

"In Nitra? Hmm, not really, I's a dull place... Although, there was a fire in Jelenec at that time, I remember it well. People said the flames burst literally in a split second, as if it was the work of the devil himself, so I was summoned afterward because the neighbors were afraid, fearing it was black magic..." Morana flinched.

"Do you know where it was? What happened?"

"By the lake. I instructed them to sprinkle everything with holy water and bury it, mark it with a stone so that no one would build anything there. Hmm, it's strange, but no one could figure out who lived there, and we all know each other very well here, or at least I know everyone well. There were a few huts in that area. We looked for bodies, asked if anyone knew anything... in vain: we only found a few charred bones and buried them in that place..."

Morana felt a stab in her stomach. That was her home, she was sure of it. And her family was dead.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Aesop felt touched by the words of the Muggle woman, who had undoubtedly deduced many things about them by observing their reactions to the pathetic cards. It was a game, and she was barely observant and extremely intelligent. He was a real wizard.

"What magic school did you attend?" he asked rather curtly.

"Schools?" she laughed. "None, Magician. My mother taught me spells, her mother taught her based on the knowledge passed down from our mothers. These are old spells, not spectacular, they work slowly, but they are as powerful as yours... Yes, even though I'm old, I saw your wand, which is now barely sticking out from under your sleeve... Don't worry, it's nothing new to me; people like you also visit me. There are quite a few of them living in the area, those who returned from studies in France or somewhere in the north... They come to me for advice on many matters, especially when it's restless in the nearby graves..." The woman turned to Morana. "Go southeast; the lake is nearby. You'll see an empty space between the houses filled with stones. That's the place."

Morana, enveloped in the velvety rays of the setting sun, stood in silence, looking at the pile of bright stones in front of her and a quite large boulder laid on them. It was very quiet, peaceful, and the temperature had dropped thanks to the pleasant chill from the nearby lake, around which wild birds circled, mainly crows living nearby.

She felt strangely absent.

She had reached her home, where she wanted to be. Although she didn't know their names, her family lay buried under her feet; now she could visit this place, she knew where she came from. The puzzle was almost solved.

Well, she should be happy. Feel relieved, from finding her parents' grave, even though the perpetrator of their death could still be at large...

She should be happy.

She felt only confusion.

Anger that her life hadn't changed, that she couldn't call those nameless people "family." She didn't feel an influx of emotions associated with this area, she didn't feel "at home" here. She looked at the boulder and was basically indifferent to everything.

Aesop observed her from a distance, casting Revelio in a few places out of habit to find any clues. Too much time had passed, and Muggles or wizards had already erased all traces. It wasn't comforting at all. Something had been solved, but nothing had really been. Morana seemed even more depressed than before, which saddened him and that annoying fortune-teller, well, a Muggle witch made him sick. He had encountered such frauds mixing in the heads of Muggles in his life and didn't trust them for a penny, and now he calmly analyzed everything she said, making sure she just read their behavior and chose responses based on that...

He kicked a small stone with his healthy foot, annoyed, then took a deep breath and looked at Morana. He let her stand there as long as she needs; she needed time to sort things out in her head. He walked ahead, looking at the surrounding houses... he noticed freshly planted Chinese Chomping Cabbage in the gardens, some Dittany... There were indeed wizards living here. Morana's family was probably one of them, but someone literally wiped them out with an exceptionally strong and cunning spell. Soon Morana approached him.

"Let's go back," she whispered.

"Do you want to look around some more? Maybe ask someone?"

"No," she replied, staring at the ground.

"Do you have anything else to do in Vienna, or can we head straight back to the Highlands?"

"No, I've taken care of everything, orders will come next week straight to the brewery."

Seeing her sad expression, Aesop laid his hand on her shoulder. She flinched, as if awakened from a dream, and looked him in the eyes.

So much had happened in these few days.

"Butter beer?" he offered, smiling warmly and extending his forearm toward her. Morana sent him a hesitant smile. She looked at the boulder one last time and grasped his arm firmly, practically nestling into it. Aesop kept his promise, helping her find her parents, for which she was grateful... and she didn't know how to express it. She tried to say something, but the chaos in her mind completely prevented it.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking him straight in the eyes, and at the same moment, she gently squeezed his arm. Aesop felt her fingers clenching the fabric around his skin, causing it to sting and tremble, as if even his own skin was pleased with Mora's the closeness. He nodded slightly, humbly saying nothing. The investigation had come to an end for now.

For now.

There was a loud crack, and the two wizards disappeared, leaving the hills of Nitra far behind.

End of part 12, thanks for reading.

[setewbro]

Hi!! 8, 10, 18, 28, 60, 73, 88, 107, 112, 12, 133 for the book asks? That was a lot so feel free to skip any one that you don't wanna answer!

Hiiii! Thank you for so many, it's infodumping time hehehe

8: A book you finished in one sitting

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

This is not a very long book and I listened to the audiobook. I like it very much! I've also listened to the french audiobook as well and it's good to practice the vocabulary of family members and different rooms of a home.

10: A book that got you through something

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang

The Poppy War helped me during the pandemic in 2020! I had to make some pastel paintings for art school, and I listened to the audiobook while I worked.

18: Your least favorite book ever

Os Maias by Eça de Queirós

I had to read the portuguese classic about incest with long descriptions of rooms for school and it was not FUN. I won't discuss about it's merit as a classic or whatever but it doesn't change the fact that I did not have a good time. At some point I listened to the auto-generated robotic audiobook at 2x because I needed to finish the huge book in time for the test and it was a terrible experience.

28: A book you wish you could read as a beginner again

Tiān Guān Cì Fú by MXTX

Reading this novel was an experience. I wish I could read the plot twists again because WOW there are a couple of twists in this book and they were all well done in my opinion.

60: A book that you think about at 3am

Verdade Tropical by Caetano Veloso

So here's the thing, I don't think about books at 3 am because that's when I'm sleeping. BUT, last week I dreamed about Caetano Veloso, he was visiting me because I was his fan or something, but I was very annoyed and wanted him to go away. We tried to write a song together but we had different composing styles and at the end he set fire to the paper.

73: A good book with an awful cover

Uniquely Human by Dr Barry

I'm not a fan of book covers with photographs in general.

88: A book that made you angry

Asperger's Children : The Origins of Autism in Nazi Vienna by Edith Sheffer

It made me angry at all the collaborators and perpetrators of the horrible crimes described in this book. Not a light read but I reccomend it.

107: Your favourite book in a different language

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Didn't know exactly what this meant, so I decided to bring a book that isn't in Portuguese or English originally. I liked Anna Karenina a lot, It was interesting to read. It's probably not my favorite book, but maybe my favorite Russian book so far.

112: A book about war

The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels

The class war.

12: A book that mentions food in the title

Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

I enjoyed this book a lot! The stories are all interesting and they explored the premise in ways that left me very satisfied by the end of the book.

133: A book that you came across randomly and fell in love with

Punished by Rewards by Alfie Kohn

Nothing is ever that random but I only saw this mentioned once before picking it up and it was a huge discover for me. I like this author in general.

WOW OK I DID ALL OF THE NUMBERS BRASIL CAMPEÃO PENTA!!!

[adridoesstuff]

For the musical ask: 5, 9, 12?

5. Did you see any live musicals this year? What did you think of them?

Yep! I saw Czech PotO in April one last time before it closed, Czech Elisabeth 4 times before it closed (and I managed to see all the dernieres), Rebecca in Vienna in September, and then I went on a spree in Pilsen, seeing Billy Elliot and Sweeney Todd in October and Fun Home and Something Rotten in December.

And I'm happy to say that I loved all these shows. I think Elisabeth left me with the strongest memories, but I wept like an idiot during Billy Elliot. I think the weakest of the musicals I saw in 2023 would be PotO, just because I managed to get Marian Vojtko as the Phantom and let's just say I wasn't really a fan of him.

9. Are there any musicals that you’ve changed your opinion on this year, either positively or negatively?

I don't think there's been a drastic change of judgement towards any musicals the past year, it's just that I've moved away from English-language ones to primarily German ones. So I feel like me and a lot of musicals I used to be obsessed with a few years back have just grown apart.

12. Did you get into any musicals for the first time this year? Did they meet your expectations?

Yes! DJKT is truly making me expand my musical theatre knowledge, because all of the shows I saw from them (except from Elisabeth and Sweeney Todd), I didn't know before I saw them in Pilsen and they are continuing to expand my horizons, since they managed to get me to listen to JCS.

As for meeting expectations, I went into some of these shows completely blind (Fun Home) and for some, I only knew the soundtracks (Billy Elliot and Something Rotten) and I was very pleasantly surprised every time.

I also got into TdV and Rebecca this year (with me loving TdV so much that I'm currently working on a Sarah cosplay) and they very much met my expectations

[acrazybayernfan]

Thanks for tagging me @veyoux (thank you so much 😘❤️)

tea, coffee, or soda? tea, definitely tea, I drink tea for breakfast (earl grey), after lunch (green-teen with mint or jasmine), at five o'clock (black tea) and then before going to bed (herbal tea), so almost during the all day. But I like coffee so I drink some from time to times and I hate soda.

dogs or cats? Dogs. I like cats a lot but I feel closer to dogs. I hope that, one day, I will have a dog with whom i can go hiking and who will also become a friend for my disable little brother and for my horse.

can you play an instrument? I can't but I can sing. I have practiced opera singing since I'm a child.

what’s your sign? pisces and I really really fit into the pisces type

first song lyrics that pops into your head? “but if you close your eyes doesn't it almost feel like nothing changed at all”

do you have any tattoos? no

favourite place you’ve travelled? Siena. I traveled there as a child and the last night of our stay, we saw a firework just about the duomo and the old city and it is one of my most beautiful childhood memories. The city is just gorgeous and I have a special interest and taste for trecento and quattrocento sienese art. However I also have to mention Rome because I traveled there more than ten times and still want to return there and then to come back another time and another one... it's impossible to get bored of Rome. I also have a soft spot for Budapest, Vienna, and of course for Krakow.

what’s the last movie you’ve watched? Les amants timides, it's the film of a theater play from Carlo Goldoni

do you have any hobbies? I have too many for my own good ! I love reading (mostly classical literature and books about art), singing and listening to music, hiking, drawing (even if I'm so bad at it), sewing, gardening, cooking (I can make some really nice cakes hehehe), photography, theater, horse-riding, swimming, watching sports (football, tennis, f1 and cycling mainly) and I started to take a karate class this year (surprisingly I appear to be relatively good at that).

what languages do you speak? French, English (but not as well as I would like), a bit of Spanish that I learned at school and forgot afterward. I understand Italian quite well and I can make a few easy sentences. I also understand a bit of german and polish (mostly just words here and there)

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? This is so HARD !!! If I want to have a good time and just enjoy the moment probably signor Benedict or Lord Goring but for a more serious type of conversation Virgile (not the historical character) but the one described by Dante

compliment yourself! I mostly did what I had to do today.

I'm tagging @miasanmuller, @klaarolines, @nyctophilic0vitnir , @hungrigbuffel, @manuelmueller , @littleblueducktales (feel free to ignore it besties this is just a way for me to say hi and I would like to know you better <333)

[hpoxfordprogram]

Whimsical Adventures

~by Arya Tadepalli

Deciding to apply for the Oxford Summer Study Abroad program might be one of the best decisions I have made in college. Not only did I learn a lot about the world and was able to embrace different cultures, I also learned a lot about myself along the way as cheesy as that sounds.

I was part of Group 2 (the best group) and our itinerary was as follows: we took a flight from Atlanta to Amsterdam, Netherlands and then another flight to land in our first city Berlin, Germany. From Berlin we bussed to Leipzig, Germany stopping at Wittenberg on the way for lunch. After Leipzig we bussed to Prague, Czech Republic and stopped at Dresden, Germany for lunch. After Prague we went to Vienna, Austria stopping at Brno, Czech Republic on the way. From Vienna we stopped at a cute cabin hotel in the Alps for lunch before going to Lido right outside of Venice, Italy. From Venice we went to Rome, Italy with a quick stop at an Autogrill.

Side note: I am a huuuuuuuuge dog person and every time I saw a dog on this trip I would always squeal and point and say “DOG!” much to the embarrassment of anyone around me. At this Autogrill stop, which is basically what truck stops are called in Italy, I saw this beautiful German Shepherd. I had seen many dogs on the trip, but even with my two years of learning German in school I was not comfortable enough to go up to the dog owner to ask to pet their dog. However, something came over me when I saw this German Shepherd and people speak a lot more english in Italy so I just went up to the owner right before getting on the bus and asked to pet their dog. When they said yes I just started the usual small talk asking what their dog’s name is and how old they are etc. The owner said their dog’s name was Arya!! I then asked the owner how they spelled that name and they said, “A. R. Gamma. A.” I got so excited I said, “Wait! That is my name!” and I even pulled out my drivers license and pointed to my name to show the exact same spelling. Apparently in Italy, they do not have the letter Y so we got over the language barrier by gesturing the letters. Here is a picture of Arya squared.

Going back to the itinerary, when we were in Rome we went to the Vatican City for a day. Then, after Rome, we stopped at Montepulciano in Tuscany for lunch before continuing to Florence, Italy. Florence was the longest city of the travel portion for us and our schedule made it so that we had a half day for independent activities where a majority of us visiting the leaning tower of Pisa and an entire day for independent activities where many of us went to Monterosso in Cinque Terre for the day. From Florence we spent a night in Chamonix, France before leaving for Paris, France the next day. Paris was our last city of the travel portion so we ferried to Oxford, UK after.

I was not sure if I would enjoy the travel portion classes as much because I am more of an outdoorsy person instead of a gallery person, but I now realize those two are not mutually exclusive. I had such a great time learning about the art pieces and artists and then going to the gallery the very same day and seeing the original works of art in person. We went to a variety of famous galleries all over Europe from the Louvre in Paris to the Uffizi and Accademia Galleries in Florence to the Gemaldegalerie in Germany, they were all such cool experiences. The music class was just as fun because we would learn about different aspects of music and then go to a concert in a few cities. There were a variety of concerts that we went to. Our first concert was in Berlin where we saw the Berliner Philharmoniker perform the Turangalila Symphony which is a modern piece. Our second concert was at the National Theatre in Prague where we watched the Czech National Ballet and the National Theatre Orchestra present a spectacular performance of the “Onegin” Ballet which is a more Romantic piece. Our third concert was at the Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna where we watched the Schloss Schönbrunn Orchestra play Mozart, Haydn, J. Strauss, O. Strauss, and Lehár pieces which are more part of the Classical time period. The fourth concert was in the San Vidal Church in Venice, Italy where the Venetian Interpreters played Antonio Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons as well as Vivalid’s violin concerto and cello concerto. The last concert was in the Sunset underground part of the Sunset/Sunside Club in Paris, France where Larry Crockett and the Funky Cherokees performed jazz. Each gallery and concert made me appreciate the arts so much more and the talent and dedication that goes into every brush stroke or bow movement.

This trip also opened my eyes to how oblivious American tourists are, especially on public transportation. We are generally the biggest and loudest group, pretty clumsy especially the first day we are in the city, tend to hold people up the most when getting on or off buses and trains, and do not stay to the right side of the escalator to let people pass on the left. But we learned from our mistakes and tried to amend them later on in the travel portion. I mostly learned that I like traveling in smaller groups though. One of my friends and I had a plan to watch the sunrise in every city we traveled to and those were genuinely some of my favorite memories from the trip because it would usually just be the two of us planning where to watch the sunrise and traveling public transportation to get there and enjoy the views. This started during the very first city in Berlin when we ran from our hotel to the Brandenburg Gate for some pretty views.

Leipzig was the only city that we missed. In Prague we watched the sunrise from the Charles bridge. In Vienna we started near the Prater amusement park and walked around the city watching the sun rise. In Venice we watched the sunrise from the beach our hotel was right next to. In Florence we watched the sunrise from a park near our hotel. In Chamonix we hiked at 3AM up the French Alps near Mont Blanc doing a bunch of switchbacks below the Ski Lift that was shut off for the night.

In Paris my sunrise buddy fell asleep on me, but I was determined to maintain the streak especially since Paris was our last city of the travel portion so I mustered up the courage to travel Paris public transportation on my own at 5AM and I went to the Trocadero Square. This was a huge milestone for me because I had never traveled on my own before other than a few city exploration walks in well lit populated places and this experience was a culmination of all the tricks I had learned during traveling and Paris is notorious for pickpocketing so I had to be aware of my surroundings at all times.

I was able to apply everything I learned to my weekend trips I took during the Oxford portion. The first weekend we were told to stay in Oxford so I explored the town. The second weekend I went to Dublin. The third weekend I went to Amsterdam, Brussels, and Brugge. The fourth weekend I went to Wales and London, and the fifth weekend I went to Edinburgh. My favorite place during the Oxford portion was actually a 30 minute walk from Mansfield college and is called Port Meadow. I made it a point to go there every Sunday right after dinner to see the wild horses and cows and enjoy the sunset. It was such a magical place for me especially when the horses would come up to you to be petted because it made me feel like the chosen one.

All in all, the Oxford Study Abroad experience taught me a lot about being a considerate and respectful traveler and gave me the opportunity to immerse myself in the surrounding culture. It also gave me more confidence as a solo traveler and confidence in my ability to handle myself in general under various different circumstances.

[graywyvern]

( me / via )

"Back when I wrote it people used to say that the exteriors seemed to be New York and the interiors seemed to be San Francisco."

A poet without folly is like a race car without sponsor stickers.

"Very few suspect the existence of this city."

"Wittgenstein's Dream

I had taken my boat out on the fiord, I get so dreadfully morose at five, I went in and put Nature on my hatstand And considered the Sinking of the Eveninglands And laughed at what translation may contrive And worked at mathematics and was bored.

There was fire above the sun in its descent, There were letters there whose words seemed scarcely cooked, There was speech and decency and utter terror, In twice four hundred pages just one error In everything I ever wrote – I looked In meaning for whatever wasn't meant.

Some amateur was killing Schubert dead, Some of the pains the English force on me, Somewhere with cow-bells Austria exists, But then I saw the gods pin up their lists But was not on them – we live stupidly But are redeemed by what cannot be said.

Perhaps a language has been made which works, Perhaps it's tension in the cinema, Perhaps 'perhaps' is an inventive word, A sort of self-intended thing, a bird, A problem for an architect, a star, A plan to save Vienna from the Turks.

After dinner I read myself to sleep, After which I dreamt the Eastern front After an exchange of Howitzers, The angel of death was taking what was hers, The finger missed me but the guns still grunt The syntax of the real, the rules they keep.

And then I woke in my own corner bed And turned away and cried into the wall And cursed the world which Mozart had to leave. I heard a voice which told me not to grieve, I heard myself, 'Tell them,' I said to all, 'I've had a wonderful life. I'm dead.' "

--Peter Porter (via @amjuster)

⎛⎝(ꈍ|ꈍ)⎠⎞ ♡.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

Beautiful boy

by Random_Stranger_84

Tommy can't sleep. It's hard too when you're a foster kid, especially when you've just been moved to a new house. This one doesn't seem to be as bad as the ones before but can he really trust them to help?

or Tommy slowly learns how to trust, and accept help

or three times Tommy doesn't accept help, and the one time he does

Words: 2466, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of SBI fics to keep me sane

Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot

Relationships: TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Foster Child TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Good Older Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Good Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Nightmares, Late Night Conversations, Song: Since I Saw Vienna (Wilbur Soot), Trust Issues, Sleep Deprivation, Trouble Sleeping, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, TommyInnit Has Bad Parents (Video Blogging RPF), or used too, 3+1 Things, Sort Of

[a-d-nox]

thor, god of thunder (asteroids thora (299) & donar (2176))

Dr. Crawford explains it best that over time language evolves. this is why i have three names listed up there: thor, thora, and donar. these are all the same god - just different dialects of the god's name. when talking about greek gods there tends to be overlap in roman gods - some even have similar mythology. but when speaking about viking mythology or norse myth, it is important to remember that raiding was part of their culture. often the vikings would settle in different places that weren't norway, sweden, or denmark. when they settled in different locations, their dialect changed. we see this in many different languages; people laugh when "ye old" is used or "thou art" but that is a perfect example as to what i am getting at. ye and thou are the same, in that they use a character that no longer exists called thorn. thorn (þ) was essentially the TH - hence why thou became you and ye became the. modern pronunciation dictated what words became. thorn was use in old english (thou kneweth this) but it was also popular in old norse language. which brings us back to the three names of thor. the old norse word thor is spelled þórr but when settling in northern europe, old high german made þórr into donar (this asteroid was discovered in San Diego in 1960). while the thora asteroid was discovered by a man in Vienna in 1890 - hence all these different names listed above. i will leave it to you on picking which to use (or use both). i simply wanted to let you know that some of the asteroid gods and goddesses that i will talk about have multiple names and some have multiple asteroids associated with them. i definitely don't mind explaining why like this because it does tend to help people better understand what's happening with myth and language as we continue this journey. it can also help you to discern preferences - maybe you'll want to use thora because it was discovered first or maybe you'll want to use donar because thor's name is commonly connected to that germanic translation.

BUT “when talking about such a popular god or goddess i am going to for warn paraphrasing - of course all these stories have more details and all these popular gods have stories within stories. i would love to share them all/in detail but i would need a book and a lot more time to write it. my attempt in writing these posts is to inform you on the high level story of the god’s or goddess’s life. that being said if any one of the events regaled in the post pique you interest - please let me know i don’t mind giving a more in-depth tale of any of the events mentioned.”

while telling the myth, i will just be using thor.

Thor is the god most heroes aspired to be in Norse myth - he ranks amongst the fiercest warrior deities as the god of thunder. Thor is the son of Odin - the leader of Aesir - and the giantess Jord. One of the most popular myths associated with Thor is Mjölnir, his hammer, and how he got it. The hammer’s origin starts with a trick Loki played on Sif, Thor’s wife, by cutting off her hair (because hair was important for women as a sign of femininity). Thor threatened to break every bone in Loki’s body if he didn’t fix this. So Loki travelled to the underground world of the dwarves, Svartalfheim, to ask the master builders to craft Sif a new head of hair. The sons of Ivaldi crafted her new hair but Loki saw the opportunity to cause some chaos and gain more in the process - he taunted another set of brothers, Brokkr and Sindri, telling them that they would never craft something as perfect as the brothers Ivaldi have. The brothers then competed amongst themselves, between the two there was the magical rings - Draupnir, the golden haired boar - Gullinbursti, and the hammer - Mjölnir… Loki smiled and claimed the hammer the winner - so the dwarfish brothers gifted it and the other objects to Loki for the other gods could judge them as well. Loki came back to Asgard with the helm of hair for Sif and the hammer for Thor. So the two made up - there are plenty of stories that two are friends (the two dressing as Freya and her servant) and others where they are mortal enemies. Thor is also known for battles against the jötnars, giants (notably Hrungnir), trolls - but his greatest enemy was Jörmungandr, the sea serpent (who he bludgeoned with Mjölnir during his hunt for the serpent in Midgard). They’d meet again during Ragnarök, where the two would fight, Thor would be bitten, he’d kill the serpent, then succumbed to his injuries… IN MY OPINION Thor in a chart represents a) where you present the most ferocious, b) where you may be seen as intimidating, c) how and where you receive gifts, and/or d) how and where you protect others from danger.

i encourage you to look into the aspects of thora and donar along with the sign, degree, and house placement. for the more advanced astrologers, take a look at the persona chart of thora and donar AND/OR add the other characters involved to see how they support or impede thora and donar!

OTHER RELATED ASTEROIDS: freia (72), jormungandr (471926), loke (4862), mjolnir (85585), odin (3989), sif (4484), and wodan (2155)!

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my “suggest a post topic” button if you want to see a specific post or mythical asteroid next!

click here for the masterlist

click here for more norse myths & legends

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

[andydrysdalerogers]

Love To Hate You ~ A Chris Evans Story

Pairing: Chris Evans/OFC Angela Wagner

Summary: Angela Wagner has been best friends with Sebastian Stan for years. Meeting in Vienna and following each other around the world has formed a bond that couldn't be broken. No matter how much Sebastian's other best friend, Chris Evans, tries.

A cruel comment sets the stage, and the frenemies makes sure to let each other know how much they love to hate each other.

*** this story will have situations and scenes that are not suitable for younger readers. Smut, infidelity, degradation and foul language are your warnings.

Cover art by @justawriterand

Chapter 1 of 13

Playlist available on Spotify.

Chapter 1 - You're My Best Friend

Being eleven in a strange city can be rough on anybody.  But five years of not being able to make a friend was worse.  Angela Wagner just wanted to go back to London.  In London, she didn’t have an accent.  In London, she looked like everyone else, even with her copper red hair. Here in Vienna, she was different.  Even going to the American school here made her stand out.

With her father being an ambassador, she was at least privileged.  That’s what her father called it.  She called it something else.  She hated that people thought less of her because of her status. Her father was the important one, not her.  She just wanted a friend.

Angela decided to head down to the main lobby area of the American embassy. Her father was there making arrangements to send her to some school in New York. She was just glad to get away from Vienna where it seemed like all of the girls her age hated her.  Angela took in the paintings hanging and wasn’t paying much attention to anything else.  At least until she ran into someone.

“Oh!” Angela exclaimed, hitting the marble floor. “I’m so sorry,” said in German

“Ce puii mei? I'm sorry, îmi pare rău! Entschuldigung. Sorry, so sorry.”  Angela saw the boy on the floor next to her.  Brown hair and blue eyes, he looked sweet but very lost.

“It’s alright,” she offered in English, hearing him move from English to German to another language she couldn’t identify.   

He looked relieved at her English. He stood up and helped her up. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, sorry for doing that.  I got lost in the paintings.”

“Its fine. You like art?”

“Yeah, I do. Sorry, my name is Angela.”

“Sebastian, its nice to meet you.”  He looked to see if she had a bag.  “You didn’t bring papers or anything?”

“Papers?  Oh no, my father is upstairs. I was just looking around.”  Angela stared at the papers in Sebastian’s hands.  “Are you going somewhere?”

“America.  My mama remarried and we need a visa or something so we can go live with him.”

“Where in America?”

“Uh,” Sebastian squints to think, “New York, I think.  The state not the city.  He’s the headmaster at a school. Rockland or something.”

This peaked Angela’s interest.  “Rockland?  Really?”

“Why? Do you know it?”

“My papa is trying to send me to a school in Rockland.  They have a good creative arts program.  That and it would be easier for him to work when he doesn’t have to care for me.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to care for you?”

“He’s an ambassador for Great Britain. I’m underfoot or so says he when he is talking with his assistants.”

“You don’t have a mama?”

Angela looked uncomfortable.  “No, she died when I was a baby.”  She cleared her throat.  She decided it was time to leave.  “It was nice to meet you Sebastian.  Good luck.”  She turned to walk away.

Sebastian looked thoughtfully at the girl.  “Hey wait! Astepta!” Angela stopped, curiosity of his language of choice making the choice for her.  “If you are headed to the school than maybe we can be friends? ne putem pierde împreună,” he stopped himself, “sorry, I meant, we can be lost together?”  He smiled at her.

Angela couldn’t believe that this perfect stranger wanted to be her friend.  A friend.  Its all she ever wanted.  “I would love to be your friend.”  They shook hands.  “Let me check with my papa to see what the school name is and I’ll be right back.”  Angela ran up the stairs to the office.

Two weeks later and Angela and Sebastian found themselves seated in front of Sebastian’s stepfather as the headmaster of the Rockland Day School. He lectured on how as international representatives they needed to show decorum and grace.  Blah blah blah, was all Angela heard.  He let them get back to unpacking in their dorm room.  Her father had pulled some strings and she was in a single room but right next door to Sebastian.

“Rață, are you ready to go?  It’s dinner time.”

“Yes, Duck, just a second.”

While Sebastian was practicing his English, Angela was leaning Romanian.  She explained that “duck” was a term of endearment in London, and he loved it.  So, he started to call her Duck. She laughed when he translated it to Romanian, but she wanted to keep it for him.

The next six years were the best the duo could have hoped for.  Sebastian pursued acting, trying out for the school plays and acting camp in the summer.  Lucky for Angela, the acting camp also had a photography program, so she was able to go with him.  She was able to study photography, joining the student paper, taking pictures of the sports and the plays.

When they started to apply for schools, Sebastian and Angels chose to go to Rutgers for their arts program. Angela’s father insisted on getting her an apartment near campus instead of the dorms for security reasons.  She reasoned with her father to allow Sebastian to live with her.

“Papa, he’s my friend.”

“He is a boy Angela.”

“It’s never been like that Papa.  He’s my best friend.  We need each other.”

“Angela.”  Her father looked at her and her puppy eyes.  He sighed, not wanting his daughter to back to being so sad like in Vienna.  “Angela, if you turn out pregnant because of him….”

“I promise Papa.” Angela hugged her father hard.  “Thank you Papa.  We’ll make you proud.”

And proud they did make him.  She won awards for her pictures, ending with an exhibition and an article in the New York Times. Sebastian had small acting roles but landed a big one a couple of years after they graduated.  And he just went up from there.

When he landed Gossip Girl, they expanded their world.  Chace Crawford had already been a friend but others in the cast like Penn and Blake also grew close.

Penn asked about their relationship one night.  “So you two are just friends?”

“Since I was twelve,” Sebastian explained, taking a swig of his beer.

“And you guys don’t screw around?”

“Ew,” Angela said, making a face.

“Thanks Duck.” Sebastian scowled in her direction.

“I’m sorry rață.”  She looked at Penn.  “He’s an attractive guy but its never been like that for us.  We were just lost together and found our way.”

“That’s really sweet,” Blake said.  “Best friends for life.”

“Absolutely.”  Angela leaned over to give Sebastian a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

When they got a refill, Penn asked Sebastian, “so is it cool if I ask out Angela?”

“Of course.  But break her heart and I break your neck.  She’s my family.”

Sebastian was always protective of his Angie.  No man would ever be good enough in his eyes.  He made a vow to her father before he passed that he would always take care of her.  And he would make good on his promise.  While there was never any romantic love, love was there for them.

Angela soon became a sought-after photographer in New York.  She would shoot everything, for the news, magazines, fashion week, private sessions. She built herself a name, but she always gave credit to Sebastian who grounded her.

Sebastian started to take off.  And finally, he had the biggest break he could ask for.  He landed a role in a major movie.  But it meant taking time to Europe and leaving Angela for the first time for more than a couple of weeks.

“Duck, are you sure you’re going to be ok?”

“Rață, please.  I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.  Besides, I’ll be able to visit you in a couple of months.”

“I’ll call everyday Duck, ok?  And you let me know if anything goes wrong or if you need me.  I’ll be on the first flight home. And please, don’t hook up with Penn again. I won’t be here this time.”

Angela tried not to cry.  She would miss Sebastian.  They had lived together for so long and it would feel empty in the apartment without him.  She ignored the comment about Penn and said, “I’ll see your mum every week I promise.”  She hugged him hard.  “Be great rață.  Like I already know you are.”

“Thank you, Duck.” He grabbed his bags and kissed her forehead. “I love you Angela.  Be good and be safe.”

“I love you too Sebastian.  See you in a couple of months.”

The couple of months dragged for Angela.  Sure, she was working but she missed her best friend.  She tried to keep busy, hanging with Chace, Blake and Penn.  She and Penn had an on again off again type of relationship. Sebastian didn’t like it but didn’t say anything until Angela would cry in his bed from her pain.  He had warned Penn but what could he do.  Angela knew it too, but she kept trying.  This time, however, she was off again and kept it that way.  No Sebastian meant no real support and she didn’t want to try and learn to do it on her own.

Finally, she boarded a flight to London.  It has been 74 days since she had seen her best friend and she only had eight more hours to go.

Sebastian, in his London flat, was running around, making sure everything was perfect for Angela’s arrival.  Her visit was timed with his scheduled time off so they could hand and be tourists in Angela’s hometown.

“Chris, seriously, can you at least use a napkin when you drink that?” Sebastian was exasperated with his new friend.

“I dunno why you are making such an effort for the girl you don’t even bang.”  Chris Evans took a swig of his Boddingtons and kept his eye on the TV.

“Chris, I beg you, don’t talk like that in front of her.  She is my absolute best friend and I want you to like her and her like you.”

“Fine, Stan whatever.”  Chris waved his hand around.  He didn’t understand the dynamic of Sebastian and this chick, but he respected Sebastian enough to respect his wishes.

Sebastian got ready and headed to Heathrow.  He had a big sign that he made for her and waited at arrivals.  He bounced on the balls of his feet, looking for her.

Angela hits the door to arrivals and looked around for Sebastian.  She saw the sign and started to laugh.  In big bold letter, DUCK, was on the sign.  She ran to him, and he spun her around. “Rață, I missed you!”

“I’ve missed you Duck!”  He held onto her, fearing she was just a dream. He took her hand and walked to the taxi stand.  “You look good Duck.  How’s home?”

“Home is missing you but its good.  I just did another shoot for the New Yorker. And I’m waiting to hear on the big one.”

“The big one?  Really?  They are considering?”

“Yep.  I’ll know right before I have to leave for home.  I’m so nervous.”

“Don’t be Duck. You’re gonna get it, I know it.” He kissed her knuckles.  “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too.  Now, tell me everything.  How is filming?  How are your co-stars?  What have you been doing?”

Sebastian proceeded to tell her everything.  “Everyone has been great Duck.  I met a friend who is super cool.  I think you’ll like him too.  His name is Chris.  We’ve been hanging out a lot.  He’s like my best guy friend now.”

Angela frowned.  “So, you’re looking to replace me?” She looked out the window

Sebastian started to back pedal. “No Duck! I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. Just, we have gotten close. That’s all.  He’s from Boston but lives in Los Angeles right now. Don’t be mad Duck.” Angela kept looking at the countryside. “Angie, please.  I’m sorry.  You’re my best friend, I promise.”

Angela looked at Sebastian and he was giving his best puppy eyes.  She rolled her.  “Fine Stan,” she giggled. She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her.  “I really do miss you.”

“Me too Duck, me too.”

Once Angela was settled, Sebastian took her to the set to meet with some of the cast.

“My darling, welcome home,” Hayley Atwell said.  Sebastian had explained that Angela was from London but hadn’t been in the UK for a long time.  “How was the flight? Dreadful?”

“Always.  But I’m just happy to be here with Sebastian.”  Angela like Hayley a lot.

Sebastian introduced her to his other main co-stars who were on set that day, Dominic Cooper, Neal McDonough and JJ Feild.  JJ tried to charm his fellow Brit, much to Angela’s delight.  There was one last person Angela had to meet.  “Angie, this is Chris.  Chris, this is my Angela.”

“It’s nice to meet you Chris.” Angela extended her hand and looked at the man in front of him.  Tall, with blonde butterscotch hair, blue eyes, not as dark as Sebastian’s, clean shaven.  Handsome was really the only word that Angela could use to describe him.

“Nice to meet you too.”  Chris took her hand.  “I feel like I know you, Angela.  Sebastian is always talking about you.”

“Same.” Angela smiled at the thought of her best friend talking about her.  The fears of never being enough still lingered from Vienna.

The two weeks flew.  They bounced around, Angela showing Sebastian where she grew up before Vienna, old shops she had visited.  Sebastian got to show her around the set and watch him act for a bit. Some of the cast joined when they went to dinner at night and hit a couple of pubs.  Sebastian hosted a party a couple of days before Angela was scheduled to depart.

“Rață, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course, Duck! We have to move to another location right after you leave so this works out.  Trust me.” Sebastian patted her head.  “Always so worried my Duckie.”

“Whatever rață.” Angela finished putting out the drinks and ran to grab her camera.  The party was in full swing, Angela taking pictures of everyone having fun.  Her phone rang and she took it into the guest room.

“Hello?”

Hello! Is this Angela Wagner?

“Yes?”

Hi this is Kate Valentine from Vanity Fair.  We wanted to know if we could book you for next month’s cover shoot?

“Really?  Yes, of course! I would be honored.”

Great!  You’ll be shooting the Oscar nominees for our Oscars preview section.  We’ll call back in a few days to set up the flight and arrangements.  Hope to see you soon.

“Thank you.  Thank you for the opportunity.”  Angela was on the verge of tears.

No, Angela, thank you.  Your work is superior.  We’re very excited to work with you.

Angela hung up the phone and ran out of the room to find Sebastian.  “Rață!!!”

“Duck? What’s wrong?”

She flung herself into his arms.  “I did rață! I got it!”

“Vanity Fair?”  She nodded.  “Duck, that’s amazing! Hey everyone!  My best friend is going to be photographer for Vanity Fair!”  Cheers from the crowd were heard and Angela blushed.  The party continued on.  Angela went to the restroom and came out looking at her phone.  She saw people in front of her and stopped for a second until she realized what was being said.

“Yeah, that Angela girl is hot.”

“She so is.”  Chris took a drink. 

“I wouldn’t mind getting to know her if you know what I mean,” Dominic said.

“I would tap that if I didn’t think it would cause problems with Seb.”

“You are a love them and leave them kinda guy, Evans.” Dominic said with a laugh.

“What can I say? Too many girls out there, so little time.” Chris smirked.  “Maybe she wants it.  She is a fine piece of ass.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to get whatever you have, Evans,” Angela said with venom.

Chris closed his eyes and turned around.  “Angela.”

“Don’t talk to me Captain Asshat!”  Angela went to her room and closed the door.  Who the hell does Chris Evans think he is?

[wagner-fell]

*breathes in* I was on the street when I saw your rb and I nearly tripped over an unsuspecting tourist, but anyways. Now is a good time to talk about our lord and saviour Gerzson Carstairs

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon [as I understood this, this is domestic]

♡ - romantic headcanon

▼ - childhood headcanon

ൠ - random headcanon

Also anything you can tell me about Catia is worth more than gold!!!!!

I’m not very good at photoshop but I couldn’t help myself-

Also dgjjgffuknvfgjnvsdvbb

Ima give you a few for some because I can’t decide which ones to tell you-

1.

Gerzson enjoys doing domestic work, like cooking, cleaning, etc. Just like Gerzson likes to watch her train, Khina loves to just sit there and watch Gerzson clean

Whenever Khina is away on business, Gerzson and the kids (yk, Erik, Vienna, Killian and Ahmad) squeeze into his and Khina’s bed. This tradition continues even when all four of them are teens.

Since their kids are very light-skinned, a lot of people assume Khina is their nanny instead of their mother so whenever they go out as a family, Gerzson starts to bring an absurd amount of photos of Khina with the kids in his pockets just to prove the racists wrong

2.

After he gets his Arch TM, him and Alastair became besties (obviously). One time Alastair tells him the story of how for his birthday one year Thomas got him a bouquet of daggers for his birthday. Gerzson gets ✨inspired✨

His first kiss was with Leonie. When he told his father his first kiss was with a warlock, that was the first time his father hit him

After a long day, him and Khina take baths together. Not in sexual way. In a “I have your back, I’ve got you, you can be vulnerable with me” way

3.

When Gizella first got her period at 9, Gerzson was the only one home and had to help her through it. Tho Gerzson had no idea what was happening to his sister either-

4.

He can speak 7 languages!!!

✨Catia✨

She’s the only one in her family that can speak English. She taught herself it by reading about fires and murders in British newspapers, yk, the interesting stuff

Idk if I’ve already mentioned this but Catia got the name Catia from a romance novel Oyuun’s fiancée’s parabatai wrote. It ends with the main character, Catia, getting killed and her boy being torn apart to create the fae queen’s wedding dress.

If Catia was alive today, her favorite book would be We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. I read that book when I was 10 and it gave me nightmares for a year and a half. So naturally Catia would love it.

Her favorite author is Henry James

:)

[emptymasks]

Hello! I saw your post on non-english language musicals, so I was wondering if you could help me with my question on the Vienna Revival Production of Elisabeth: Do you know if the DVD has english subs? I know there's a subbed version on youtube, but I would like to own it on DVD too! Although I have seen in reviews that the one with bonus DVD has an error where act 1 is printed on both sides so I'm a little hesitant. Thank you :)

sadly no, the standard DVD has no subtitles at all, not even German ones. i don't know if the later boxset special edition has subtitles, perhaps it has German ones, but as far as I know the only English subtitles that exist are fanmade ones such as the ones on Youtube

[takenbysummer]

I've just finished "Normal People", the series, not the book.

I saw the book countless times in the best seller foreign language section here in Vienna, as I usually just read in English. For the life of me I could not tell you nor attempt to explain why I never bought it. I am a sucker for a good, real story. And I remember picking the book up from the shelf, reading a couple of first lines and putting it down.

The book reviews are also mixed. I can see why, but one has got to give the chance the "young you" in all of us to relive the first times of the bittersweet everythings. In the reviews, "adults" claiming that the story is for "noone over 25" and much less for "adults over 30". Tell me, when has revisiting memories of those early experiences of the real world rocked by hormone hurricanes, become only for the young?

I have not in a long time felt such a perfect depiction of what it felt like to have my first real love and to lose it to life itself. Felt is the right word, because I felt with each tear, insecurity and pain the characters felt. I remember distinctively the relationship that marked my young adulthood and had such an impact on me, forming as a person. I remember every first time of everything. "It is not like this with other people" and it never was afterwards. I realized I have not felt about anyone as I felt about him nor did I ever after give myself to anyone with such dedication, loyalty, with my whole soul. I never did it again. Noone understood me as he did, noone loved me as he did and noone knew me as he did. Noone hurt me as he did. I know now that it was inevitable, but I wonder is it "like this with other people" for him.

I realized, throughout watching the series, how much I have missed him but taught myself to believe that I didn't. I truly did and I still do. I miss him as a friend, as someone in my life, as normal people do.

April 25th, 2021