#pandoras german

[queen-of-wisdom]

As a European (German), it kinda feels strange when someone claims to be German when it's just...blood. When you have no living family from here, no cultural ties, then no, most people here, in Europe, wouldn't consider you German/Irish/Italian etc.

I can't speak for other countries or even for other Germans but I think to wich country you 'belong' doesn't define the place you were born or where you're parents are from. It's where you're defining culture is from, what culture is yours.

My father is Polish (refugee) , my mother is from Indonesia (just here for a better life lmao) . Does that mean that I am Polish? Does that mean that I am Indonesian? Both no.

I'm a German with Polish & Indonesian cultural influences and background but I am neither Polish nor Indonesian. Because I didn't grew up in neither of those countries. I can't speak their languages. I don't know any Polish fairytales or how to make nasi goreng.

But that's okay. Because although I grew up eating pirogie and listining to Indonesian lullabies, I live in Germany. I ate center shocks, watched KiKa before going to bed and sang Helene Fischer songs at parties.

So yes, even though both of my parents are from another countries doesn't mean that I am from them, that I'm a part of them. Because I'm not and it would be ignorant to say so.

I don't know what part of my lizard brain is triggered when USamericans say such things but it just feels...weird. Like, you say you're German but what does that even mean?

Could you communicate in 'your' language? What channel did you watch as a kid? KiKa, Toggo, RTL? What's your favorite center shock? Gebrüder Grimm? Merkel-Ferkel? Lochis? What's your family story of the Mauerfall? Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo? Are you a Ossi or a Wessi? Aldi Süd or Aldi Nord? Mark Forster? Guuuu-ten Moooo-rrrr-gen Frau/Herr...? Struwelpeter? Rezo, der alte Zerstörer?

When none of those words tell you anything, then this would mean that you don't know ANYTHING about Germany since WW2 (I tried to include some history as well as new and old culture, so if there's anything big left, tell me!). And when that's the case, what is even the point in exclaiming that you're 'it'?

Something I’ve seen a lot recently is other countries (mainly European) dunking on Americans for saying they’re “Irish” or “German” or whatever and saying “you’re not X nationality, you’re American”. But the thing they don’t realize is that for an American, it’s the same thing. Since America was made of mostly immigrants (save for the native population whose land we stole). When we say “I’m Irish/German/etc”, we’re saying that’s our ethnicity, not our nationality. Cuz save for native Americans, being “American” itself isn’t an ethnicity.

Idk, it just annoys me when someone says “oh you’re not X” when like. Literally most of my ancestry is, and the only reason I live here is cuz they needed to escape British genocide

[efemmera-archive]

Pandora's Box (1929), Dir. G. W. Pabst

[chaptertwo-thepacnw]

fritz kortner and francis lederer |1929|

[ladisgarde]

Marius calling Pandora "Pandörchen" when they met in Germany and no she didn't love it.

[changingmymajortojoan]

submitted three different conference abstracts, including a paper i wrote last semester on affect and fantasy in deep inside annie sprinkle. i also made two overhead projector lecture-demonstration submissions for papers on campfires (submitted a survivor deep dive on orientalism and the flame) and papers on failing media (a lecdem itself on ohps and puppetry uses)

[windfalljng]

the windfalls know some german because i said so. and by "some" german i mean volo and pandora are both fluent and pecunia's still learning (slowly) but she honestly doesn't care that much about it anymore so it's like. really slow. then promise knows like twelve phrases total and speaks the omst awkward denglish ever just to fuck with everyone

[principiumindividuationis777]

[lazychildoflife]

Regulus and Barty Balcony Scene

I thought of this scene a long time ago and kept working on it when I could in between uni, work, family and friends. I really commend people who do this on the daily because I don't know how they do it. I really hope you enjoy this Bartylus fun. 😉

Shout out to @crimsonlovebartylus for betareading this for me at the last minute.

Regulus was meant to take the mark. It was what was expected from him since Sirius left or even before then. He knew Sirius was going to leave him one day. Ever since he met Potter, Regulus knew Sirius found a new life. One without Regulus in it.

He knew fire wasn't something to mess with no matter how much Regulus loved how it looked. The flickering colours of yellow, orange and red reminded him of his estranged brother. It also gave him control. The control Sirius wouldn't give him. The control their parents wouldn't give him.

Fire; he can control.

"Master Regulus," Kreacher muttered softly over the crackling of the large flames. "We need to go."

Regulus glared at the flickering flames and the black smoke that covered their skies.

"Not before making a stop. I need to pick someone up." Regulus grabbed Kreacher's hand and asked him to apparate them away just as a wizard apparated onto the road, followed by a number of other wizards.

Regulus waved Kreacher away as he headed towards the white balcony and the demented tree that sprung wisteria all around it. Regulus knew his parents wouldn't be home that night. Regulus' own parents were away at Voldemort's meeting whist Barty's was definitely still at the Ministry dinner. Regulus was meant to get the dark mark tomorrow night as a celebration of tonight's attack. However, the only thing they will see is ashes.

Regulus looked for a few small rocks at the base of the tree and hurling them over the balcony, hitting the connected door which was covered in sea green drapes. Barty was adamant in defying his father and decorated him room in everything Slytherin. Green drapes, expensive taste and even Salazar Slytherin's portrait facing the door so it would be the first thing someone would see when they walked into Barty's room.

Regulus smiled as the lights turned on, illuminating in the dark. He felt giddy. As if he had his favourite sweet or food after not eating for a week or a simple sip of water.

Regulus hummed to himself as he stepped closer to the tree, still keeping his eyes on the pearlescent balcony. "'He jests at scars that never felt a wound,'" he exclaimed with a sigh.

Regulus could hear the door open and footsteps, before a brown tuff of hair over the balcony, and sky blue eyes latching onto his. Barty smiled at him and laughed. "'But, soft!'" Regulus shouted, now grinning up at his best friend. "'What light through yonder window breaks?"

Regulus waved at Barty, who waited for Regulus for more. "'It is the east, and Barty is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou his maid art far more fair than he: be not his maid, since he is envious; his vestal livery is but sick and green and none bit fools do wear it; cast it off.'"

Regulus grabbed the tree and tugged on the wisteria before climbing up until the first branch before sitting on it. Barty laughed and leaned on his hand before nudging his head, signalling to Regulus to carry on.

"'It is my man, O, it is my love!'" Regulus exclaimed, shouting the words as Barty send a kiss. "'O, that he knew he were! He speaks yet he says nothing: what of that?'" Regulus cocks his brow at Barty with a giggle escaping him before he could stop himself.

Regulus climbs up a second branch, "'His eyes discourses; I will answer it.'" Regulus copies Barty's lazy stance. "'I am too bold, 'tis not to me he speaks: two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat his eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if his eyes were there, they in his head? The brightness of his cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; his eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not not. See, how he leans his cheek upon his hand!'" Barty rolls his eyes and walked over to where the tree is before leaning over, eyes watching Regulus as he loses his mind to a Shakespearean sonnet. "'O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!'"

"There's another set of cheeks you can touch."

Regulus groans, "say the line, arsehole."

"You call me the most kindest of names, sweetheart."

"Barty," Regulus moaned, resisting the strong urge to stomp his leg on the tree.

Barty chuckled and gasped. "'Ay me!'"

"'He speaks-'"

"-I can't do this-"

"Barty!" Regulus glares at him before clearing his throat and carrying on with the scene as if the boy above him wasn't snorting at Regulus' climbing skills. "'O, speak again, bright angel!'" Regulus shoots another fierce look at Barty as he opens his mouth again. "'For thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head as a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air.'"

Barty glances at his chest before shrugging. "'O Regulus, Regulus! Wherefore art thou Regulus? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Crouch.'"

Regulus cocked his head, "'shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?'"

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a Black. What's Black? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Regulus would, were he not Regulus call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Regulus, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself.'"

Regulus grinned up at Barty before climbing up another branch, inching closer and closer to the earth-haired boy. "'I take thee at thy word: call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Regulus.'"

"'What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night so stumblest on my counsel?'"

"'By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: my name, dear Saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee; had i it written, I would tear the word.'"

"You'd kill my enemies for me, oh sweet Regulus?"

"Thats not the line."

"Screw the line," Barty grabbed Regulus' shirt and pulled him closer. "You'd slay my enemies, sweetheart."

"Not while you keep interrupting this."

"I'll be demanding an answer after this." Barty pushed Regulus away gently before placing his hand over his forehead like one of those fainting women in paintings. "'Myears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: art thou not Regulus and a Black?'"

"'Neither, fair Saint, if either thee dislike.'" Regulus said, not as the Romeo but as himself. Since the moment he burned Grimmauld Place down he was no longer a Black. Simply Regulus.

"'How comest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?'" Barty sighed staring down the wisteria and the weakened tree. "'The orchard walls are high and hare to climb-'"

"They were not that hard to climb."

"Who's interrupting who now?" Barty said with humorous eyes as Regulus muttered an unapologetic apology. Barty cleared his throat. "'And the place death, considering who thou art. If any of my kinsmen find thee here...'"

"'With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; for stone limits cannot hold love out and what love can do that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.'"

"'If they do see thee, they will murder thee.'"

"'Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity.'"

"'I would not for the world they saw thee here.'"

"'I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight and but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate, than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.'"

Barty furrowed his brows as if he had just realised who he was talking to. "'By whose direction found'st thou out this place?'"

"'By love, who first did prompt me to inquire. He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far as that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise,'" Regulus replied, hoping for Barty to make the connection. He was no longer apart of this war.

He was free.

"Reggie, what did you do?"

"Does it matter?" Regulus climbed out the balcony and placed his feet firmly on the floor. "I'm here to ask you something. It is something of great importance."

"Yes."

"You haven't heard the question," Regulus said, trying to stop the smile that was breaking onto his face.

"Its you," Barty said softly as if it way a hidden secret just between the two of them. "I'll follow you to hell and back. I swear it."

"Don't swear by that," Regulus fussed. Hell was mean to be for sinners and he couldn't deny they were both sinners; Regulus wanted Barty to be with him after this life. Regulus wanted Barty to always to be there with him. That would be his Heaven.

Barty and Regulus.

Regulus and Barty.

Together Always. "Oh," Barty smirked, taking a leaf out of Regulus' hair, "'What shall I swear by?'"

"'Do not swear at all; or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee.'" Regulus paused for a beat before clearing his throat once more as if he'd spoken for too long. "Barty, will you-"

A knock froze Regulus in his place. Barty was meant to be home alone as his parents gallivanted in a Ministry party with the rest of the boring middle-aged office workers. The plan wasn't going as he planned. Or it was perhaps his parents, automatically thinking that he would go to Barty because of their long-standing friendship. But wouldn't they think to go to the Potters first. Or did they believe that their perfect second son wouldn't fall to that level of his disgraced brother.

Barty pulled Regulus into the darkest corner of the balcony, hidden away beside the serpentine statue and the emerald green drapes. He rushed inside a Regulus gripped the warm hand that Barty held closer to his chest with a bated breath, waiting for his best friend to come back.

Regulus could hear Barty's footsteps as clear as the night sky. He closed his eyes, pressing his back into the serpent statue and waited, ready to call out Kreacher's name.

"Mum?"

"Ah, Schnucki. Baby, you're still up?"

"I was reading on the balcony." Barty answered in the softest tone Regulus had ever heard him speak. "Are you ill again?"

"No. No, your father had an emergency at the Ministry so he had to leave. Schnucki, don't stay up too late. You need go keep growing up tall just like your grandfather, in ordnung?"

"In ordnung, ma. Good night."

Barty quickly closed the door and ran back out, letting out a breath as he spots Regulus in the same place as he left him. "Hey... 'wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?'"

Regulus simply stared at his best friend for a minute before crashing into him, wrapping his arms tight around Barty. This may be his last time to see, touch or smell Barty and his had to cherish it. Regulus, just like everything else, was going to ruin this.

There was no return to normal after this.

There was no return to normal the second he lit the flame to burn down Grimmauld Place.

Regulus felt Barty wrap his own arms tight around Regulus, somehow sensitive to the guilt that Regulus was feeling. "Reggie," Barty breathed out, close to Regulus' ear and close to his heart. "Geliebte," he whispered. "My geliebte. What happened?"

"I'm leaving," Regulus murmured into Barty's shoulder. "I'm never coming back, Barty." Regulus could feel Barty stiffen as his hold around Regulus tightened with every word.

If Barty asked him to stay he would. So that's why he had to leave now.

Leave before Barty tried to make him stay.

Leave before Regulus puts his best friend in trouble.

Regulus used all his strength to push himself away from Barty. Barty let out a weak whimper as if the distance pained him. Regulus hardened his eyes or at least he tried to. He knew he couldn't fake his persona long enough in front of Barty because Barty knows him. Barty is one of the only people to truly know Regulus to his core.

Many have tried.

Sirius.

James.

Evan.

Dorcas.

And even Pandora has come close.

But Barty simply knew who Regulus was. Who Regulus is. And who Regulus will be. "My train leaves at seven-twenty in the morning. It's the first train out to Paris."

Regulus hovered his hand over his heart, where a second ticket stayed warm. Who was Regulus to be selfish with Barty? This was a large risk for both of them to take? Barty could reject Regulus and he would be left alone to travel to France. Barty still had Even, Dorcas and Pandora at Hogwarts. He didn't need Regulus like Regulus needed Barty.

"Why?" Barty heaved as his chest quickened. "Why?"

"I can't do it anymore. I..." Regulus gripped the second ticket in his hand and pulled it out, "can't." He pressed the ticket into Barty's hand, holding it tight between his own. "I'll be there until my train comes."

Regulus grips Barty's cheek in his hand and felt the cool summer night but Regulus couldn't help but feel the warmth with Barty. Not heat like how he felt with James but the warmth of a cooling fire. The warmth of a soft, safe home Regulus had always imagined. Barty nestles his face into Regulus' hand, his eyelids fluttering shut. "'A thousand times good night,' Barty."

[reignmaefall]

In my head, Emmeline is German and Korean. (German because her name is a German name.) Like, Korean ancestors but straight from Germany. Like hardly speaks any English at first. Like, rooming with the valkyries and getting so fucking frustrated because no one understands her. And frustrated because she doesnt understand them. Getting migranes all the time because she's surrounded by a language that doesn't make sense. But also making friends that are willing to put in the effort to help teach her. Teaching the people around her a little bit of German while she also learns English. Getting frustrated because why tf doesn't English follow its own rules. Getting excited because she just had a dream in English and it made sense. Going back to Germany for the holidays and having to readjust a little (when shes fluent in English) and then having to do the same after hols but it's more difficult.

Calling Pandora Schatz, and Pandora thinks it's some word for shithead but she's really just calling her sweetheart. Calling Pandora meine schöne. Pandora getting flustered all the time because "wtf is she calling me?" But refusing to learn the language because the mystery is too valuable.

German Emmeline everybody. German Emmeline.

[queen-of-wisdom]

“Foreigners out!

Foreigners out!

Germany for the Germans;"

Cool and what am I then?

Just some clown with a red passport

And the fear

That you will the do

The Thing

The Thing that I told everyone that you wouldn't do again

The Thing you promised to never let happen again

The Thing that haunted us all

(Or did it not haunt you too? Did you ever cared? Did you ever feared that it would happen again?)

[starburstsobsessions]

I haven’t made an actual OC in like 5 years much less an anthro character *drops German shepherd girl*

desc below. I’ll probably change it

PANDORA, German Shepherd, She/her, Anarchy baby! “As a child, Pandora knew the phrase “tomboy” just fine. Her father, a cop, often ridiculed her for the way she stood out, and her mother instead encouraged it.

It didn’t take long for her dad to no longer be an influence on her. Now, she looks to others such as Lzzy Hale, Billie Joe Armstrong, and Avril Lavigne.”

[chaptertwo-thepacnw]

pandora's box, louise brooks |1929|

[scholarofgloom]

[theaskew]

[antonio-m]

“Prometheus and Epimetheus before Pandora” (detail), c.1878 by Hermann Julius Schlösser (1832-1894). German painter. Alte Nationalgalerie, Berlin. oil on canvas

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

50 Dark Academia Names For Your Female Characters + Meanings & Origins

Alecto - unceasing in anger (Greek mythology)

Ariadne - most holy (Greek mythology)

Cassiopeia - she who entangles (Greek mythology)

Circe - hawk (Greek mythology)

Drusilla - dewy-eyed (Roman)

Eris - strife (Greek mythology)

Fionnuala - fair shouldered (Irish)

Galatea - she who is milk-white (Greek mythology)

Hekate - will (Greek mythology)

Idony - ancient wisdom (Scandinavian)

Isolde - ice battle (Arthurian)

Kore - maiden (Greek mythology)

Lenore - light (Spanish/French)

Lilitu - monstrous woman (Mesopotamian mythology)

Maeve - she who intoxicates (Irish)

Nyx - night (Greek mythology)

Orion - rising (Greek mythology)

Pandora - all-gifted (Greek mythology)

Queenie - noble queen (English)

Rhaenyra - dark reign (Game of Thrones)

Selene - moon goddess (Greek mythology)

Themis - justice (Greek mythology)

Ursula - little female bear (German)

Valeria - strength (Roman)

Willow - willow tree (English)

Xanthe - golden flower (Greek)

Yseult - ice battle (Arthurian)

Zelda - dark battle (Germanic)

Zephyrine - from the west wind (Greek)

Aella - whirlwind (Greek mythology)

Brynhild - armored battle maiden (Norse mythology)

Catriona - pure (Scottish Gaelic)

Deirdre - sorrowful (Irish)

Elspeth - God's promise (Scottish)

Felicity - good fortune (Latin)

Gwendolyn - white ring/circle (Welsh)

Harlow - rock clearing (English)

Idalia - from Idalium (Greek mythology)

Jericho - scent of beauty (Hebrew)

Kalliope - beautiful voice (Greek mythology)

Lumen - light (Latin)

Morana - death (Slavic mythology)

Nerissa - mermaid (Greek mythology)

Octavia - eighth (Roman)

Persephone - bringer of death (Greek mythology)

Quintessa - fifth (Latin)

Seraphina - fiery serpent (Hebrew)

Theda - goddess (Greek)

Umbriel - shade (Roman mythology)

Xenia - hospitality (Greek)