#this poem quite literally lives in my head

[tendermimi]

Danez Smith, Recklessly

[suntoru]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: blue balled </3

warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare

─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.

─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”

─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.

─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.

─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?

─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀

─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀

©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[nias-nook]

Bill Cipher and The Unicorn in Captivity

Soooo, I haven't been looking at Bill related posts much since the book dropped as I have mixed feelings on what TBOB and the subsequent site have revealed about him, his motives, his backstory etc., but (and maybe someone beat me to this) one thing I haven't seen anyone talk about yet is this,

So maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but this is The Unicorn Rests in a Garden, also known as The Unicorn in Captivity. This piece was a part of The Unicorn Tapestries. Its origins are shrouded in mystery and super interesting but I'm not really gonna touch on that here.

Now there is something to be said about how this one piece, and the rest of the tapestries tie to Bill. I'll briefly go over what the tapestry meant when it was made then dive into what contemporary interpretations of the piece say about Bill and his fundamental inability to redeem himself.

Also just want to establish before we get into this that I am...Not a scholar when it comes to this stuff. I just happened to recognise this tapestry and its symbolism when it dropped on the website and had to put my thoughts somewhere. I might add more later if I've forgotten anything, which I probably have.

Given this was a piece made in Europe in the Middle Ages, it's perhaps unsurprising that a lot of interpretations of it are biblical, but we can (mostly) safely assume Hirsch isn't going for a Christ allegory here. Then again, maybe he's going for nothing and all of this is pointless.

What is a little interesting in the wake of TBOB is its ties to marriage.

These tapestries are heavily theorised to have been made to celebrate a wedding, and their comparisons of love and marriage to a hunt that inevitably leads to the imprisonment and taming of your lover. Of course, Bill quite literally suggests this method in the book with The Love Cage that he uses in Weirdmageddon, but there's a million 'Billford is canon' posts out there so let's table that as it's pretty self-explanatory. Bill and Ford have been hunting each other for decades and Bill imprisons him in a so-called 'Love Cage' to try and convince Ford to be his 'partner' (be it platonic or romantic). This is what a victory in a relationship is to him.

What I'd like to focus on is the modern interpretation of The Unicorn in Captivity as a self-imposed prison.

"Look at that little unicorn! The beatific smile. He's happy now. He gets to live in a beautiful garden."

"Yeah, in a cage."

"A protective barrier. No one's hunting him anymore. Nor can he hurt anyone with that horn of his."

This summary of the piece is taken from the aptly titled Unicorn in Captivity from another animated series, The Venture Bros. (which, by the way, if you're looking for another show that's a whimsical and fun riff on 80s pop culture with a big mystery element, highly recommend), but this of course isn't the first piece of media to portray it this way. the most notable being The Unicorn in Captivity poem by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

The unicorn is, on the surface, a prisoner. The Theraprism that Bill is now trapped in is a place he longs to escape, but that's the thing, isn't it?

He could escape any time he wanted to.

He could slip his head From the jewelled noose So lightly tied - If he tried, As a maid could loose The belt from her side; He could slip the bond So lightly tied - If he tried.

Bill, like the unicorn, is trapping himself more than the Theraprism is trapping him, but his situation isn't to be pitied, it's karmic justice. What's so satisfying about Bill's eventual comeuppance is that he's the one making himself suffer. The only thing Bill needs to do to escape is to admit he was wrong, to stop revelling in the suffering of others, but...Well, he chooses not to.

For all of his guilt about his parents and his so-called 'dark and troubled past', Bill has never regretted a single person he's hurt since. He didn't regret taking over the world, he regretted being caught. He didn't regret hurting Ford, he regretted losing him. Bill will probably be doomed to wallow in the Theraprism for all eternity, cursing his situation and blaming everyone else for his inevitable downfall. An overgrown child who once had too much power and lost it all throwing a tantrum for the ages.

But now he can't hurt anyone with that horn of his.

[sakkiichi]

TICKETS TO BARBIE.

watching the barbie movie with him.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, Venti, Kaveh, Albedo, Arataki Itto x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, crack, modern au, headcanons.

word count: 1.6k.

so, i went to see the barbie movie the other day. my friend watched it too �� (sadly we couldn’t go together, as we live miles away), but we both loved it, so i thought this would be a fun idea for some quick headcanons.

✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

— Kazuha just loves seeing how excited you are to watch the new Barbie movie. His warm eyes shine and his smile is lovestruck as he observes you rushing around, preparing your pink outfit.

— He’ll have to dedicate a poem to you, with Barbie’s signature color wrapped around you as the main theme.

— If you want to match outfits with him, your boyfriend will oblige, because even if the color choice is not something he’d wear usually, Kazuha loves the idea of matching with you and he adores even more how happy you look.

— Your sparkly gaze when you decorate his hair with pink strawberry and hello kitty clips makes his heart feel all warm and fuzzy, to the point of getting lost in your stare and completely spacing out when you call his name.

— “You’re so beautiful, dove.” Your lover dreamily sighs, when he finally comes to. Cupping your face, don’t blame him if he smudges your perfectly applied lipgloss with his honeyed kisses, alright?

— You and Kazuha are definitely that super cute and affectionate couple at the cinema. From holding hands, to him sneaking cheek kisses, to you feeding him popcorn… Everyone adores your little displays of affection, you two are just so sweet.

— Also, Kazuha looks so good in pink! If you tell him that, though, he’ll get all blushy. And oh, when you caress his face or kiss his forehead? He’s just like a baby bunny with how cute he is. However, he’ll be sure to fluster you with his multiple compliments…

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

— You quite literally have to drag him to watch the movie.

— “Barbie? Isn’t that for little girls?” He spat with a frown, arms crossed over his chest when you presented the idea to him.

— However, your boyfriend happens to be very soft for you, so just give him the puppy eyes and he’ll bend to your every wish.

— “Please?” “Ugh, fine, whatever.”

— He also pretends he doesn’t enjoy the hug and kiss you give him when he agrees to go with you.

— So, the day to go watch Barbie arrives, and Scara shows up at the living room of your shared apartment dressed in all black, ripped jeans on and purple headphones wrapped around his neck.

— “Well? Let’s go watch that stupid movie.” He says, purposefully averting his gaze from your all-pink outfit (he’s totally jealous he won’t be the only one to see you while you look this gorgeous).

— “Not dressed like that, you aren’t.”

— And that is how you proceeded to dress the angry cat that is your boyfriend in a pink top with frilly sleeves. (Alas, you couldn’t get away with making him wear a skirt, but at least you managed to put his hair in pigtails and snap a picture before he ripped the pink hairties off).

— Honestly, Kuni secretly enjoys the movie and thinks weird barbie is neat, even if he won’t tell you about it (yes, you definitely were imagining it when you saw him shed tears at that one scene with Ruth and Barbie).

✧ XIAO

— “Two tickets to Barbie.” And it’s two people, one clad in pink from head to toe, the other in all black, combat boots, and a bunch of tattoos and piercings. He’s wearing a pink butterfly clip in his dark teal hair, though.

— Xiao can’t say no to you, even if he’s overwhelmed by all the people present at the cinema, and the loud atmosphere and bright colors of a crowd dressed in shades of rose are not really his thing.

— But you squeeze his hand reassuringly, your gaze meeting his sharp golden one with that smile he adores to see on your lips. He gets to be with you when you seem so happy, so carefree, and that’s more than he could have ever wished for.

— Your boyfriend might not be wearing the signature color of the doll starring in the film, but his cheeks have certainly taken a deep flushed tone when you hold onto his arm lovingly, your fingers softly running over the swirling patterns of his inked skin.

— Please, please, please, buy something sweet for him to eat while you two watch the movie :( sweet pop corn, pastries, candy… Xiao enjoys mild and sweet flavors, so if you surprise him with a treat like that, he’ll get so flustered and happy! Are you gonna miss out on such an adorable sight?

✧ VENTI

— He’s right in his element!

— Totally wears pink clothes, pink accessories, heart shaped sunglasses and pink makeup.

— If you’d let him, he’d definitely show up in something like his archon outfit, but pink, wings included (yeah, he’s a victoria’s secret angel and he knows it).

— Don’t let him bring the bottle of rosé wine he tried to sneak past you, though, please.

— His mischief aside, Venti is actually one of the best people to watch Barbie with. He’s fun, is invested in the plot, songs and outfits, he’s a comforting presence and is well versed in pop culture.

— The only con is you’re a tad bit jealous that he looks better in pink that you do. He’s certainly slaying in that outfit. Rest assured, though, Venti is not at all shy when compliments are due, so he’ll be sure to shower you with plenty, and he means every single one of them.

— Loves the movie and loves getting to experience it with you. Under his carefree and cheerful front, your lover is someone who really craves for tranquil moments like this, just you and him, spending time together doing something you enjoy… Venti wishes all days could be like this, as much as he likes partying and drinks.

✧ KAVEH

— Similar to Venti, he’s thriving, and maybe he’s even looking forward to this more than you are.

— Has his outfit and makeup thought up days, if not weeks, beforehand (and obviously he has sparkly pink clips to combine with his clothes, as the babygirl he is).

— Kaveh will offer to do your hair, makeup and to help you choose your clothes. And who are you to refuse? Not when you know he’s amazing at it, not when he’s giving you the most precious puppy eyes this world has seen.

— He won’t let you pay for the tickets or snacks either, no matter how much you insist. Your boyfriend has a hard time accepting kindness, especially from someone as special as you; he could never let you invite him or even let you pay for your part and manage to sleep peacefully at night.

— During the movie, he’s living. Takes mental note of the dresses and fits, all the barbie dream houses and every different design he spots. His kind gaze is wide and sparkling and you find yourself staring at your pretty boyfriend more than at the big screen. To see him so… free and untroubled… You wouldn’t trade that for the world.

✧ ALBEDO

— You think it’s seriously unfair how good pink suits him (let’s face it, Albedo is royalty and will be pretty in literally anything) but right now, he looks not unlike a Barbie himself (unfair).

— If he’s in one of his teasing moods, he’ll give you the half lidded eyes and the shit eating smirk when you’re very much not inconspicuously staring at him with your mouth agape.

— “You look stunning yourself, my dearest.” The blonde will whisper, leaning close to your jawline as he cups the back of your head, the lingering caress of his lips on the skin right below your ear making your knees almost buckle.

— Actually is very interested in the critical message the movie intends to portray, and has everything figured out right before it happens (you can totally tell by the way his cerulean eyes glint knowingly, his chin cradled between his fingers, rosy lips titled upwards).

— Naturally, as an artist, Albedo takes note of every design and the whole colorimetry presented through the scenes. Your boyfriend hopes, one day, he can capture you in every shade of vibrant rose and sunshine, even if he believes no paint on canvas will ever do you justice.

— Definitely thinks weird barbie is cool and feels a little guilty because he knows if he were to give a doll to Klee, it would run the risk of meeting that exact same fate (probably accidentally, due to his little sister’s eh… rowdy and adventurous nature).

✧ ARATAKI ITTO

— “Itto, repeat after me: no, you can’t rename our shared apartment the mojo dojo casa house.”

— Itto probably relates to Ken, except for the latter’s actions, because your partner thinks all women are queens and he’d never do what Ken did.

— You probably have to keep an eye on him, to prevent him from being too loud during the movie; he means well, but he’s excitable and can’t help but comment and laugh noisily.

— Just give him a soft kiss on the lips and he’ll be silent for the rest of the film, wink wink. (Don’t blame him if he can’t pay attention to it afterwards, though, he’s just too entranced by your smiling expression).

— Itto would protect Ruth with his life. He adores his grandma, and somehow, the elderly lady from the movie reminds him of her; so, afterwards, he might beg you to help him choose a nice tea set as a gift and to accompany him to visit his grandmother.

— He’s definitely the type to buy some commemorative souvenir: an “I am kenough” hoodie; Ken’s fur coat, Barbie’s car… or any trinket made for the occasion. He’s just like a kid on a candy store, he looks so happy you don’t have it in yourself to deny it to him, even if he ends up buying some overpriced and maybe useless trinket.

[literary-motif]

ENOUGH ANGST !!!! AAAGGHHH I HATE ANGST !!!! So after Isis confirmed the bound, Xanthus said that he will now sleep with love in order to keep them safe. After listener gets comfortable and finally falls asleep. Xanthus keeps staring at them, slowly releasing what Isis said and building a deeper connection to love. Just for Xanthus to hug them and rest with love PLSPLSPLS

My Design

Xanthus Claiborne x Reader

There was something very intimate about sleeping together — literally sleeping together. Xanthus was enthralled with the soft rise and fall of your chest, calming him so thoroughly that he feared it might lull him into the land of sweet oblivion himself. Your eyelids were gently closed, hiding the beautiful eyes he had lost himself in quite a few times since meeting you in that alley. 

He could not believe you had agreed to spend the night. Certainly, his lavishly decorated house — nay, mansion — might have something to do with it. It looked rather nice, he supposed. He was proud of the furniture, his collection of little specialties expanding over many centuries until it consisted of the composition of works he decorated his house with. 

There was an original Böcklin in the study, and a letter his old friend Van Gogh had sent him safely tucked away in the cabinet, next to the volumes of now historical pictures a history student might sell their soul for. 

His bed was very comfortable as well. Perhaps that was the reason that got you to stay, or maybe the thunderstorm raging in the night had made the prospect of walking home rather distasteful. Either way, you were here now, and he was glad for it. 

Isis had been gone for two hours, and his mind was still reeling. The bond was as fascinating as it was utterly terrifying. He had spent centuries living alone, not daring to tie himself to another person because they would wither and fade before his eyes, and now he was entangled with someone who was definitely going to die! 

‘Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch. Yehuda Halevi was right, but instead of the holiness he described at the end of the poem, Xanthus would find insanity when your heart stopped beating. 

How fearful, indeed.

What was this feeling of love he had? How long had he gone without it? Vaguely, he recalled an infatuation at the end of the 19th century — nothing he had ever felt compared to this. 

There was a thread tying you both together, one he could not so easily break no matter how hard he might strain against it. Not that he wanted to, although he supposed part of him did.

Vulnerability never came easy, and now you were his weakness. A weakness. 

You mumbled something in your sleep, and he could not help the fond smile that came across his face. You looked so comfortable with your head buried in the pillows, lying on your side. Unconsciously, you had curled around him, and Xanthus felt the sudden urge to gather you in his arms and make sure nothing mortal or otherwise would ever get the chance to hurt you. 

Something in his chest shifted at seeing your peaceful expression — one that had been missing from his own face for decades. His chest felt warm, and he felt the burning need to protect that had evaded him since he had watched his nephews being lowered into the ground. 

This is love, he realized suddenly, burning, aching, maddening love. What had he become?

What had the bond done to him?

“Xan?” you mumbled, still asleep. His heart could not take it.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered, carefully wrapping his arms around you to pull you against his chest. Your head lay on his chest, and you let out a content sigh, appreciating his affection even from beyond the veil of sleep. “Sleep, I’m here.”

You did not reply, your gentle breathing filling the air again. Distantly, he heard a crack of thunder, lighting striking across the sky in a sudden flash of unloading tension.

Xanthus closed his eyes, listening to your heart instead, hearing it pump the blood through your body. He hoped it would keep beating for a long, long time to come. 

He would make sure of it anyway.

[angelsheartts]

𝜗𝜚 LOVE LANGUAGE ! ~

#pairing : venti, albedo, kaeya, diluc, aether, bennett, razor, mika, x gn reader.

#cw : none, it’s pure fluff.

#note: this is my first time posting on tumblr, if there are any grammatical mistakes my bad 'cause english isn’t my first language so yeah. If someone is interested my requests are open!!

࿔ ˚. VENTI .

words of affirmation are definitely his love language!! he would sing songs to you, especially if he's drunk at Angel's Share, making you leave the tavern from embarrassment and making him follow you like a puppy. he would also braid your hair by putting flowers in it while reciting the love poems he wrote about you.

࿔ ˚. ALBEDO .

giving gifts is his love language; he would probably, no, he has a sketchbook full of sketches of you, and he will definitely gift them to you, his beloved s/o! it‘s an easy way to show you his affection when his words aren’t enought to express his feelings.

࿔ ˚. KAEYA .

physical touch; he would love to show you off in a nonverbal form, such as holding your waist or teasing you with his cold hands. this guy would be extra cuddly if you started stroking his hair or if you burried your face into his chest while cuddling.

࿔ ˚. DILUC .

physical touch would be his love language. i think he’s a little shy about his feelings and he would probably get teased because of that (specially from kaeya), so he has other ways to show you his affection by being a gentleman !! he would press kisses along your knuckles; he would also surprise you with flowers and brush your hair behind your ear before he starts kissing every single part of your face.

࿔ ˚. AETHER .

words of affirmation. we all know he’s quite popular so there will be times where you are going to be jealous but i can assure you he would never do anything like that! he loves you too much and will always tell you such sweet things when you both are on an adventure or when you’re braiding his hair. he will also talk to you about how much he wants you to meet his sister. that’s literally all the evidence you need to know that he’s head over heels for you!!

࿔ ˚. BENNETT .

quality time is his love language; he appreciates that you still go with him on adventures, even though of his bad luck. adventures with him always end up 'bad' in the way that it’s not the way he planned it, but you just laugh, telling him that it was one of the best, most memorable, and amazing adventures you had!!

࿔ ˚. RAZOR .

physical touch or acts of service, i’m 100% sure about that, he literally lives with wolves, so he would nuzzle your nose, would hunt things for you just so you give him a head pat, and at first he would lick your face, making you go red like a tomato, so you started telling him to give you kisses instead of just licking your face lmao.

࿔ ˚. MIKA .

mika's love languague would be quality time; he loves spending time with you, and he loves when you both cuddle, but he’s just too shy to make the first move! he loves your presence, and by wanting to spend time with him, it makes his heart all flustered. At the end of your hangouts, though, he would be the one to give you a kiss or hold your hand.

[amundsenxcook]

okay so because of who i am as a person i obviously have not stopped thinking about the ellsworth poem since i have learned of it. this one:

some things to note:

• "skoal" is norwegian for "cheers". so he‘s literally toasting him with this poem. also it shows that they were very familiar with each other and ellsworth took an interest in amundsens culture and mother tongue.

• it is dated september 3, 1928. a couple of months after amundsens disappearance. this is as much a toast as it is a eulogy. this is probably a good indicator of when ellsworth considered amundsen no longer missing but dead. feeling great and normal about that.

but i wanted to know more!!! in the hopes of finding more context for this poem i tried looking it up but i couldn‘t find anything in relation to ellsworth and/or amundsen. so i tried to find the poem itself. and i did.

ellsworth didn’t write it, it is by none other than famous romantic poet william wordsworth! but this is not where my search ended. because the part that ellsworth quoted is not the full poem.

you see. the full poem is titled „Lines written by Capt. James upon his leaving Charlton Island, where many of his Ship's Crew had died during the winter, which they passed there A. D. 1631-2.“

so of course the question arises: who was this captain james who overwintered in charlton island in 1631-2?

captain thomas james was a welsh captain and explorer and in the years 1631 and 1632 he set out to find the northwest passage. he did not succeed and had to turn back. he wrote a report on it which you can read here on the internet archive.

wordsworths poem was inspired by this tale (some say the ancient mariner was inspired by it as well) and clearly ellsworth put a lot of thought into his choice. chosing a poem about someone looking for the northwest passage to dedicate it to the guy who found it!!!!! man

conclusion: ellsworth did not write the poem for amundsen, but he did carefully choose one that fit him so perfectly, choosing as well the lines which are the most touching and personal.

anyway, here‘s the whole poem below the cut because it’s actually really good and makes me very sad:

I were unkind unless that I did shed

Before I part some tears upon our Dead:

And when my eyes be dry I will not cease

I heart to pray their bones may rest in peace:

Their better parts, (good souls) I know were given,

With an intent they should return to heaven:

Their lives they spent to the last drop of blood.

Seeking God's glory and their Country's good.

And as a valiant Soldier rather dies.

Than yields his courage to his enemies,

​

And stops their way with his hew'd flesh, when death

Hath quite deprived him of his strength and breath;

So have they spent themselves; and here they lie,

A famous mark of our Discovery.

We that survive, perchance may end our days

In some employment meriting no praise,

And in a dunghill rot, when no man names

The memory of us but to our shames.

They have outlived this fear, and their brave ends

Will ever be an honor to their friends.—

Why drop you so mine eyes? Nay rather pour

My sad departure in a solemn shower.

The winter's cold that lately froze our blood.

Now, were it so extreme, might do this good,

As make these tears bright pearls, which I would lay

Tombed safely with you till doom's fatal day:

That in this solitary place, where none

Will ever come to breathe a sigh or groan,

​

Some remnant might be extant, of the true

And faithful love, I ever tendered you.

Oh! rest in peace, dear Friends, and let it be

No pride to say, the sometime part of me.

What pain and anguish doth afflict the head.

The heart and stomach, when the limbs are dead.—

So grieved I kiss your graves, resolved to die,

A Foster-Father to your memory.

[crabonfire]

mercs with reader who has poetic rizz 🫶

characters: all mercs

warnings: corny poetry / letters

note: I'm writing this because I write very badly written poetry myself and I just wanted to share 👍👍👍 this is very random haha

reader is shy abt their writing and gets embarrassed showing or talking abt it (that's how I react when I show people my corny poetry agahwhsg) all the poems have dumb names

♡Scout♡

• he doesn't understand what the fuck any of it means but it sure sounds smart and sophisticated.

• he would be messing around in your notebook and finding very well written lines of romantic and depressing poetry, finds it actually very attractive?? he has a thing for "smart people" stuff.

• he found a love poem you made, went along the lines of:

The day we ultimately leave this plane of existence, If in a time of judgement, I'd get to have live again. I'd search every corner of this vast, timeless universe just to see you again.

• and when he saw the note at the end that said "for my love" He felt like combusting on the spot.

• when he brings it up he's like "You wrote this for me?" And if you get all shy and stuff he's honestly gonna kiss you so hard. If your nervous about your writing he's the best hypeman 🫶🫶

• brags about it to the others but never shows them any poems you have, wants to keep them to himself <33 definitely has written copies of your poems in his room.

♡Pyro♡

• hubba hubba

• bro is honestly so honored my god

• he'd be snooping around in your room because he was looking for you and find pieces of paper on your desk, filled with romantic letters. Some have been scribbled over, probably some you didn't like. One reads,

Even in the sheer and agonising cold, I can still feel the fire in my fingertips when I'm with you.

You're my source of warmth in the winter, my light at the end of the tunnel, my everything.

I'd go through a hundred battles if I knew you'd be the one I protect.

• and when he reads, "for my firefly."

• you got em blushing under the mask fr,, bro is kicking his feet in the air, punching the wall, shaking the paper like a crazed fangirl...dawggg

• when he finds you, he will literally shake you around like a pinata, shoving the paper in your face and practically asking "is this about me"

• when you smile and nod in response, you get a squeal out of him, hugging you tightly and giggling uncontrollably as he...purrs??? on you?? rizz so poetic you turned bro into a cat...wtf

• will show engie and beg you if he can see more poetry. Will attempt to do it for you because he wants to impress you ��

♡Soldier♡

• you were writing on your notebook for a while in the common room while everybody was up to their own thing, and he was quite curious on what you were doing.

He asked but you were too embarrassed to say what it was, he caught on and took a peek from the side, making you look away and frown, a blush forming at your face.

You're like no man I've ever met, a stern and determined figure that manages to surpass expectation.

What I'd do to kiss you, I'd cross the lands far wide just for a chance to gaze upon your beautiful face.

You have such a fire in your eyes when you set your mind to something. Those baby blues have me in a chokehold, I wonder what fire will arise when you look at me.

I'd do anything, anything at all if it meant I'd be the one to start that flame.

• "...WHO IS THIS FOR?"

You pause for a bit and sigh, "You."

He takes a second, reading everything back again he feels his face start to heat up tremendously. His knees feel weak, head is dizzy, and he has the stupidest smile on his face.

• he grabs you by the shoulders, making you stand up as he aggressively kisses you, pulling back he says "EXCELLENT WORK. I AM HONORED TO BE WRITTEN ABOUT SO BEAUTIFULLY. THANK YOU CADET!"

• he walks away with the biggest fucking grin ever he might start fucking skipping.

You're just left there with a red face, stunned and confused on what to do.

♡Demo♡

• he likes to talk to you a lot, so this would probably pop up in a convo. you talk about arts, and you mention the fact you do poetry in your spare time.

He jokingly asks if you made any about him, fully expecting you to snort and shake your head. But when you go silent, looking away for a second he immediately feels like he's going to burst. You've written poetry about him?

He begs you for a good 15 minutes until you agree to show him, bringing it up even after you've changed the topic of conversation.

• He watches you pull out your notebook with excitement, he's already grinning even before you show him. You huff, handing him the book with a page that says "corny poem for demo I'm never showing him" and he laughs at that.

The poem goes,

My dear, words can not express the sheer adoration I have for you.

I was never fond of drinks myself, but if alcohol ever tasted like you, I'd have become a crazed drunkard whose only relief was alcohol.

Your lips are so soft. When they kiss my skin, it feels as though I have just been blessed by the heavens above.

• bro has his jaw dropped to the floor, face tinted a dark red as he literally has to blink to see if this was about HIM?

• he's laughing, shaking his head and covering his face in embarrassment.

"I cannae believe this. This...this is for me?"

You simply nod.

"Dear lord, yer an angel ya know that?" He leans in and kisses you, then kisses you some more all over your face, making you giggle, pulling you into his lap and having a full on make out session.

He'll kiss your neck and leave marks, whispering sweet compliments, repetitions of "thank you's," and "I love you's" over and over. If he fell head over heels for you, then now he's fell for real and dropping into a pit of neverending love for you <3

♡Heavy♡

• I'd say he found them on accident, he insisted on helping you clean your room when you got too tired to do it, and as he was reorganising your desk he found your notebook laid open, and curiously, he read the specific page.

The title was "hahsjfjfjdkskzncn"

The way your arms wrap around my waist makes it feel like it's just the two of us against this cruel world.

But even with my upsetting mindset, you manage to find a way to strip me of those thoughts, and every day, the colour in this world gets a little brighter.

I love your laugh, and when you do it, the angels sing to the gods. My heart always longs to be within your presence because it feels like I'm floating whenever I'm with you.

• he blushes, and blushes even more when he sees the note at the end written "for misha (I'll probably never show him this it's corny asl)" and he doesn't smile, he doesn't even show any form of expression, but his face is so red he could pass as a tomato.

He doesn't bring it up right away, but when he finishes cleaning your room, he talks to you about it with a flustered expression, voice low and quiet with cheeks dusted a rosy pink.

"I like the poem. It is quite lovely, thank you."

You just sorta sit there kind of embarrassed of your poem and nodding aggressively.

• he thinks of that poem a lot, and if he finds out you've made more for him he's actually gonna burst.

♡Engie♡

• finds out similarly with how Heavy and Pyro did!! He fell asleep in your room while you two were cuddling, and it happened to be a ceasefire day so yall had nothing to do. He's a real heavy sleeper so while you were showering he was still snoring loudly.

but then a couple minutes later after you did, he woke up.

• he rubbed his eyes and decided to get cups of coffee for the both of you. he placed the cups on your desk and noticed your notebook was open. Not so subtly, he started to read what was written.

"I love texans" was the title, he smirked at that.

The moon and the stars don't even compare to you, and the heat of the sun can't even be on the same level as how warm you make me feel.

I can't take it when you're away. It's like a part of my heart starts to shatter at your absence. The days feel like weeks, the longer you're away. I miss you even when you're just in the other room, I miss your voice even when we just started to talk.

Your words are so sweet to me, and it seems I've developed a sweet tooth just for you.

• 🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁😞😞😞😭😭😭😭

• bro felt like sobbing to be honest, smiling like a goof and screaming internally.

he will join you in the shower,trailing his fingers over your body and leaving feathery kisses over your back. you'd giggle, asking him what gotten him in such a mood. all he'll do is hum, washing your body as he continues kiss you in all sorts of places.

• like Scout, he finds it a weirdly attractive trait, like the romantic essence of it yk??

• the entire day he'll just be so much softer than usual, melting like a puddle around you when he randomly recalls the poem. Will definitely bring it up later, complimenting you and asking you about it.

( OK I ran out of ideas for romantic poems so I'm not writing them anymore SORRYYYYYYYY)

♡Medic♡

• You were high in anaesthesia after an operation, where he was fixing you up after a big battle. You two talked the night away, and you mentioned your hobbies when he was asking you, you blurt out your writing hobby and he seems very interested!

So in your fuzzy state, you pull your notebook outta yer ass and let him flip through the pages himself.

• he's quite surprised, very impressed at your writing abilities. Some of the poetry is sad, and he can truly resonate with some. Then, he sees one that catches his eyes, it's labelled "doctors!! ahhh!!"

he has a amused grin on his face, "is zhis one about me?" You chuckle, nodding aggressively like a drunk child.

• when he reads it, thay amused expression turns to one of embarrassment. It feels as though you've lifted him off of his feet, he knows it's rather corny, but it's so damn romantic he can't take it.

"woah!! your face is all red man, sorry for making you so flustered I just got that poetic rizz AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-"

he shakes his head literally having no idea what that means and a weary smile forms on his face, not expecting the poem to be so specific.

But he reads it again, and again. Each repetition he melts even more at your endearing words about him. He can't help but feel overjoyed, his eyes soften when he meets your gaze.

He leans into the patient chair to give you a kiss on the forehead, gazing into your eyes and whispering, "Ich liebe dich, mein schatz. Danke, this is beautiful." He kisses you once more, on your nose this time making you giggle.

(I love doctors!! ahhh!!)

♡Sniper♡

• I don't think he'd be the type to uh, snoop around for your stuff, or even do anything remotely close without asking for it, so in terms of poetry he'd find you doing it like soldier did.

• you two were sitting under a tree near his van, a nice date in the woods for you both to get out of the chaos and just be alone.

• he rested his head on your shoulder, as you wrote intensely on your notebook. It was quiet, but it was a peaceful one.

"Hey, what'cha writin' there?"

You hum in reply, "Nothing."

"Really? Cause you've been writing for a bit now."

You just smile, continuing to write.

• After a bit you finish writing, and he takes a peek, "my star"

he smiled, it was about him. Well, he assumed.

Slowly, he read the lines of poetry that were just finished. You were reading it back, too. As he did, he couldn't help the heat that rose to his cheeks, and a downturned smile appeared on his face as he looked away, covering his face with his hat.

You noticed, looking at him and blushing as well.

"Oh. Did you.. read it?"

He paused, putting the hat back on his hat but still looking away. "Yea."

It was silent again, until he asked;

"...Is it about me?"

You smiled, "Well of course. Who else would it be about?"

His cheeks reddened even more, and then he went back to lean on your shoulder with a shy smile. One that you mirrored, tucking loose hair away from the sides of your face.

"It's cute."

"Thank you, its about you so of course it is."

He screamed internally at that. He just chuckled.

• Here you are, fully grown adult mercenaries, acting like little kids who are going on their first date. Those corny sentences you wrote will be stuck in his mind for weeks, months maybe...he's so in love with you man.

♡Spy♡

• he found out the same as soldier did, in the common room after everybody ate, you were sitting at a desk with a cup of coffee, writing something on your notebook. Truth be told, you had finished it, you were just contemplating if you wanted to show it to spy or not, you knew he'd love it, but a part of you knew it was also super corny.

"What are you writing, my dear?"

You screamed, shocked at his presence, slapping your hands on your notebook in an attempt to hide it.

"HUH?? WRITINF?? OH YEAHHHH just some uh, stuff. Yeah." You laugh nervously, a comically large bead of sweat streams from your face.

• he simply smirks, taking the book out of your hands and seeing what you're so embarrassed about. All you could do was sit, flushed face and eyebrows furrowed.

" 'poem, maybe I'll show him, i don't know.' This is for me, hm?"

You nod, covering your face with your hands and curling into a ball.

• he reads it, his expression is unclear, but he's intensely memorising the words you've written about him. It's so...romantic. He feels his cheeks heat up, and all he does is smile, eyes lidded full of admiration for what you've written.

"This is beautiful. I didn't know you were such a poet, why didn't you tell me?"

"..its embarrassing. It's not even that good, too. I just... do it when I'm bored."

He shakes his head, "Ma petite chou-fleur, you are a true artist. I am honoured to be written in such a way by such a lovely person such as yourself. You should not underestimate yourself, this is...wonderful."

He smiled at your adorable reaction. He kneels and takes your hand, giving it a kiss. "To know such kind hands think of me in such a way makes my head spin...for once, you've truly captivated me."

"And if it's alright, I would love to read more of your work. Poetry is truly difficult, yet you've managed to write so emotionally."

You can't believe what he says, but you can tell he's being genuine by his soft smile, one you rarely see. With your face still as red as a tomato, you nod, mirroring the smile he has.

• You two spend your time together in the common rooms talking about poetry, he's constantly complimenting you, and any person who walks by to see what your up to, he immediately starts to talk about your poetry, even going as far as to show it to them, telling them how good it is.

he's definitely asking for some pieces of your poetry, keeping it in a folder to read whenever he misses you.

done!!!

hide yo girls, the rizzler is here 💯💯💯🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️

[nobrashfestivity]

Do you have any advice for artists?

I always have advice for everyone if they ask because I am the youngest child who no one ever listened to and now I'm living out the fantasy that someone will. "Why ask me" is a good question but you did, so that all said...

I think the basic stuff you probably already know is likely to be true. Keep your head down, do the best work you can and be yourself even if you admire someone else

If someone says you're a genius, ignore it and if they say you're a fraud, ignore that too. Genius is not for you to judge (or revel in ) and if you were a fraud you would know it deep inside and would never ask anyone for advice because frauds are narcissistic and fear being exposed.

It's too big a subject for a tumblr post, but one thing that has always helped me is the idea that you should be specific, because if your art involves making things up (most art does on some level), the mind can get lazy with the details.

If you look at someone to paint or write about, they have a ton of incidental attributes. Maybe one button on their shirt is hanging by a thread, or the blue of their coat is the same blue as a post office uniform, maybe they smoke French cigarettes and they taste terrible but they smoke them because they like what they think it says about them. It doesn't really matter what it is, it's just good to give things some kind of life in your mind. I think once you recognize the truth in something, how you deal with it artistically becomes easier because you're not obsessed with it's authenticity and can focus on doing it justice. I wrote a poem about my great uncle once and it wasn't as hard for me as maybe some other things because I was very clear that it all was true.

It doesn't matter if your art reveals all these details, but knowing them can help you get a grip on what you're doing. A lot of things in the arts are about training your mind to recognize tributaries without losing sight of the whole.

The other thing is, please don't be destroyed. I can tell you for a fact some truly great artists couldn't stand failure so every time they went out there, they failed, and it quite literally killed some of them.

Everyone is an artist at 20 but being an artist at 40 or 50 or 60 requires a lot more dedication (for a million reasons). To keep doing it and keep growing will require you to change and sometimes fail. It's a cliche, but a lot of people don't take it seriously because they have never seen themselves as failing. But, if you're honest, eventually you will have a some times when things didn't go the way they should and everyone will probably tell you it's the greatest anyway, but this is where you can take take arms against a sea of opinions and by opposing, well, you know.

I'd go on and on but I already did. Good luck, I am sure that you can do it. And i mean that.

[snoozingredpanda]

Hmm... Maybe Reader and Kai starting to date, meanwhile Ivy is doing background checks and threatening Reader (usual shovel talk) but as she does all this she slowly starts falling too?

Omg I actually did a request for once 🙌

—

gn reader, yandere themes, swearing, a bit of violence, implied past transphobia

• Ivy hated you. She despised you. Ever since she laid her stunning brown eyes on you, she knew you were going to be trouble. And you certainly proved to be a thorn in her side — often stealing her spotlight effortlessly, even though she spent hours on her hair, make-up and clothes. And… AND… you decided to steal her baby brother away from her.

• Ivy would gag as Kai swooned over you. He was instantly infatuated, head over heels as if you were the most beautiful and handsome person in the world. Which you weren’t — she was, of course. No matter how much she told Kai you were a disgusting, stupid nerd, he just fell harder.

• She watched in horror as Kai chose you as his sweetheart, asking you out with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. He’d even written a poem, and Kai was notoriously bad with words, so it was a shock to Ivy at how… how much he loved you.

• She hated you, but she (somewhat) accepted you as her brother’s partner. But, she was terrified that you would hurt him. So, she spent many nights holed up in her pink-painted room, scouring the internet for information about you. It became an obsession, stalking your social media to make sure you weren’t a red flag.

• Meanwhile she ignores the fact Kai has his wall covered in photos of you, and a collection of your stolen clothes. He was just in love right? Not obsessed at all!

• Kai begun bringing you over for dinner, and even sleepovers. As Kai and Ivy lived together, Ivy had to see your face nearly every day, and she made it known you weren’t wanted.

• The bullying got so bad that Kai got mad at her. At her?? That had never happened before — Kai hardly ever got mad at anyone, let alone his sister.

• “I’m just looking after you!” She’d cried, glaring at the floor. Hot tears fill her deep brown orbs.

• “I’m fine, Vee!” Kai had snapped back, arms folded over his chest. He towers over her small frame. “Stop treating me like a kid!”

• “It’s not my fault I’m protective! You—you know what happened in high school!” She was borderline sobbing, angrily. She remembers how hard it was for him, how people hurt him mentally and physically just because he was a he. She didn’t want you to hurt him, to tell his secret and potentially ruin the life he’d built up for himself over the last few years.

• Kai’s own brown eyes softened, and his shoulders slumped. “Y/n’s not like that… they… they know, Vee… And they love with either way.”

• She swallowed, blinking away the tears. With a soft nod, she wiped her eyes and disappeared into her room to clean up.

• Ivy’s harsh judgement instantly eased. As soon as she found out that you weren’t a threat to her brother, she began to warm towards you. A small compliment, here and there, perhaps defending you from a bully or two.

• She began to realise that — holy shit — her brother is right, you’re literally amazing. The more time she spends with you, the more she wants to coddle you, and protect you. She would start to follow you around, her obsession much more stalker-y than her sibling’s. She was scary, too, threatening to hurt people if they touch you.

• Kai wasn’t annoyed by her blatant crush. He loved you sooo much, and having a guard dog like Ivy around wasn’t too bad. Kai didn’t have the heart to hurt people, so if Ivy was offering…

• Kai was however a little weary when accepting Ivy as your girlfriend. Of course, it was quite strange, two siblings with the same person, but they set boundaries. Dates were separate, and they took turns sleeping with you in their beds. They made sure you knew they weren’t comfortable showing romance together, as they were far too close as siblings for that.

• But both of them would definitely defend you in any situation, Kai holding you whilst Ivy claws at whoever hurt your feelings.

• One time a guy decided to pin you against the wall — which ended up with Ivy pulling out chunks of his hair and scratching up his face, and Kai, with his popularity amongst his football team and fangirls, made the guy get bullied so badly he had to change universities. Kai didn’t like being petty but no one gets to scare his lover like that.

• The two are utterly devoted to you, and even though they could have literally anyone, they only have eyes for you. No other person could make them swoon like you do. You’re their beautiful, handsome, perfect darling, and nothing or no one can ever change that. Even you.

[galarix]

Day 7. Fanon OTP(s)

Unsurprisingly, Hagen x Gunther. They've been living in my head rent-free since forever, and this is my literally one true pairing in the NL. The mutual loyalty and the unbreakable bond! The things Hagen is ready to do for Gunther, taking it somewhat too far! The arguments and the tension—the way Gunther relies on Hagen wholeheartedly but somehow cannot help but oppose him every now and then! Despite Gunther's objections being quite logical and based on reasoning, I see him being emotionally compelled to reject Hagen's advice just because from time to time and somewhat annoyed by the fact that Hagen always seems to have a different opinion. I also become a little heartbroken every time I think that Hagen's objections to, or disapproval of Gunther's decisions in the second part of the poem seem to be a blend of both reason and emotion. No textual proof here, just vibes and feels, especially about the line "ir habt iu selben widerseit" ("You have become your own worst enemy"; that's  Whobrey, 2018) in 1458. I thinks that it pains Hagen to see how every time his king gets his way, it somehow becomes his (i.e. Gunther's) undoing. 

And then, of course, there's the power dynamics! We all know what I mean but if you guys feel that it's worth revisiting… ;) I will recycle and elaborate on my old comment on @ivylili's deviantart page. The relationship between Hagen and Gunther is so fascinating because it is somewhat inverted. Gunther, who is formally invested with more power than Hagen, seems to not simply rely on him as a trusty advisor and military leader; it looks like Gunther is developing a kind of dependence specifically on Hagen, and this somehow goes beyond a regular king—vassal relationship. Speaking of Hagen, every time he goes/advises against Gunther's decisions, his actions are rooted in that deep, selfless, unwavering devotion to Burgundy and his king that has nothing to do with blind obedience. "I care about you, and this is exactly why I'm confronting you now." And while I think that this is not quite the way things were in the Waltharius (I imagine their relationship being more professional than personal at that time), I find it remarkable how Waskenstein set a certain pattern for their interaction. Moreover, in the Waltharius, this problem of power dynamics is even more evident than in the NL. Gunther can't make Hagen obey his order to fight until the very end, not even with manipulation/emotional blackmail, and at last he has to not only offer an apology (rightfully so) but also to plead and beg. I believe this whole pleading and begging made Hagen somehow uncomfortable though, whatever the text says about it... Another interesting thing about the Waltharius is Hagen's prophetic dream. IIRC, in the NL, only (future) family members (all of them women, may I add) have dreams like that. Of course it's obvious from the literary perspective that the author would like to keep his cast compact and single out Hagen,  but it's a fascinating detail nevertheless :) 

There's something else I want to say about Hagen's devotion to Gunther. I see a very personal side to it, and just like with Gunther, it's something that goes beyond Hagen's vassal obligations, although I can't quite put it into words. It goes without saying that for Hagen, his king's honor and overall well-being is inseparable with that of Burgundy. While the concept of a king as a literal embodiment of his country seems to be a classic example of medieval mentality (can't provide references here but I'm sure I'm not making this up), with Hagen, it's… something more than that? Okay, this is where I'm departing from the actual text of the NL, it's just something that I have in my head, but hey, it's a question about fanons! So, I feel that over time, Hagen's oath of fealty acquired a deeper dimension. It's like he came to embrace Gunther's entire personality and became devoted to him as a person, however flawed that person might be at times, going beyond loyalty to Gunther's position as his liege and king. I guess I headcanon this as one of the reasons why Hagen always goes beyond what's expected of him. 

Going a little back (just a little, yeah… like 15 years back), I have to point out that I initially started shipping them after watching the Fritz Lang movie, see Day 3 ;)) But despite being heavily influenced by it, I've always been conscious of the fact that the 1924 film is not the same as the epic, and, after carefully rereading the Nibelungenlied over the last two years (not in its entirety but rather many specific snippets of it), I've gradually reevaluated my image of Gunther and consequently, of the Gunther—Hagen dynamic. In Fritz Lang's movie, Gunther seems to be so broken, in need of someone to lean on (also literally in the very end), and therefore more dependant of Hagen, who in turn is being protective bordering on possessive, and insisting on having his way seemingly for the sake of simply having the last word. While the image of 1924!Gunther deeply resonates with me, I realize that the Gunther we see in the NL is a very different person. Of course medieval characters are not constructed the way it's done in modern media, and often we can only speculate about their "inner life", that is, their psychology and the emotions they experience. (Unless we're told specifically that they felt happy, or sad, or angry, but referring to separate emotional experiences is not the same as building a contiouous personality.) So anyway, I feel that in the Nibelungenlied, King Gunther does not perceive himself as broken, or indeed in need of protection; unconditional reliance on Hagen's guidance and seeking his advice is another thing. But I still tend to incorporate some aspects, or some vibes, of their 1924 versions in my headcanons, and the way Gunther relies on Hagen's support reminds me of a relationship between two characters from Das Glasperlenspiel by Hermann Hesse, namely Joseph Knecht and Fritz Tegularius. At some moment, Knecht characterizes Tegularius as "an Kraft, aber nicht an Liebe Schwächeren"; in a way, the same is true for 1924! and LV!Gunther, I think.

Yeah, I'm sooo normal about these two… XD

Oh, and looking at the very start of their relationship, a honorary mention goes out to (one-sided?) Hagen x Walther for Waltharius angst purposes! I don't think I need to elaborate on that one though ;)

[bloodcasket]

A BEGINNING, AND AN END

PAIRING: Vergil Sparda x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Not proof-read, angst, mentions of readers death, depression, loss, loneliness, a relationship that is crumbling.

WC: 1,650

DESCRIPTION: Vergil wonders what exactly he did that made him lose you. He breaks as he realizes his mistakes, and that he will never be able to hold you again.

A/N: This work was rushed!!!!!!!!!! I literally just had a vomit post of all my sad little ideas. Currently hyper-fixated on Vergil! Probably will write more for him. I imagined this concept last night, and I kid you not, I cried.

Marriage was a concept created for foolish beings who wished to bind themselves to one another. When Vergil lived through his life, blinded by a pursuit of power, such things like marriage were nothing but a stupid scheme.

Why would he wish to be controlled by someone? Tied down to them? Love was nothing. Love was idiocy. That is what he thought, after all.

Then you came.

A human, young and kind. You placed your hand in his, pressed your silken lips along his bruised knuckles, and kissed his ruined skin. You promised him love. You showed him peace. You introduced him to light and laughter and mirth.

It was then, after the many days of holding you and growing to love you, that he realized why people did such “foolish” traditions. He grew weak with you. Became sensitive. Was not embarrassed to be genuine with you. He had finally decided.

He would propose.

You had tears swelling up along your waterline, slipping down your upturned cheeks as you smiled, you sobbed the words “Of course I will marry you”.

He married you.

The marriage was simple, no one but you two to promise yourselves to each other. He had found an old church to hold the ceremony, the ceilings tall and pointing to the sky. The tinted glass waned bright colors over your bashful face, your eyes glittering with devotion before you leaned in to kiss him. A kiss to ensure eternity.

Your fingers trembled against his as he slipped the wedding band on, he had not realized his cool façade has cracked along with yours. He was crying with you, so ecstatic to finally have someone who can understand him.

Someone who won’t judge him, someone who will tell him it will be okay. To hold him close in the night when he had nightmares. To lay their head in his lap as he read out his favorite poems.

“Vergil, stand over by the tree! I want to take a picture of you!” you giggled happily, face contorting into an expression that can only be described as glee. You held up your camera, adjusting the device to be suited for the brightened, summer day.

“And what for?” your husband seemed annoyed, looking at you with a nonchalant grimace. “Because I want to capture memories, now go, go!”. You shooed him away, begging him to find purchase near the weeping willow tree. It’s arms swaying in the gentle breeze, faded green leaves swooping overhead, tangled moss falling to the soil.

He obeys, acting as if this was something pointless, but internally, he was blissful, full of pride at the acknowledgement of your adoration. He stands, watching as you snap the picture, and then returns to your side gracefully.

“Well? Was that to your liking?” he asks, leaning down to see the picture, and you nod with a grin, telling him “thank you”.

This was something that became quite frequent. You had recently started to indulge in art, and had brought up to him that you would paint his portraits.

And paint you did.

Your works were wonderful. Your art room his secret sanctuary. A gallery of only him, painted with oils and acrylics, colors that portray him to be a god amongst this tiny Earth.

Inspired by a simple, small photo of him. A photo that is always captured by you.

You enjoyed comparing his white hair to the color of a rich magnolia. Consistently painting him alongside the elegant flowers. You had told him once that they reminded you of him. They were sensitive to the human touch, turning brown from the oils of a selfish finger caressing it. They were independent, and were beautiful while they kept to themselves.

Just like him.

Relationships are hard. He understands this. He knows that if he does not give enough, the ones he finds dear will crumble away. Loyalty, honesty, generosity, quality time, devotion….. so much he must do to keep you satisfied.

He tries, he’s a perfectionist, but when you two wander in public, see the other couples mold into one another, he feels ashamed. He does not like to hold your hand in public, and he feels tense when you initiate certain intimacy. You would get bored of him, wouldn’t you?

He admires how easy you make it look, how you strip him of his clothes, settle him in the tub, speak reassuring words of praise as you scrub the grime off his beaten skin. He relaxes under your touch, wonders why of all people, you chose to be with him. How you don’t hesitate to bend to his will, run miles to retrieve whatever he wants. Speak honeyed words, just enough to make him melt.

You’ve helped rid his nightmares, you’ve made him feel alive. He only dreams of bliss, of divine moments shared with you.

Moments like you and him, taking pictures under the willow tree.

But yet, he cannot even find the courage to move forward. To give you the smallest things you desire.

He grows sour. For once, he feels powerless. Inferior.

He can never give you what you want.

Recently he has grown colder to your touch. Shallow and incoherent with any simple notion.

You will try to reach for him, your pinkie grazing the side of his firm hand. He only tugs away, resisting your affection. You will plead to bathe him, massage the ache in his shoulder blades. He only denies your wishes to care for him.

Your paintings become more erratic than before, a sense of gloom in their glistening wake. A sheen of desolation hidden amongst the thick lines of paint. You have lost inspiration. His divinity and blue aura that was once captured by the bristles of your paintbrush are now fading into a melancholic art piece.

You are afraid you have lost him.

You two seem to get in an argument one night. It is after an awkward vent of your feelings to him in the library.

“I miss when you loved me”, is what you confess.

Vergil shouts selfish comments, says he prefers to be alone. Says you bother him too much. Says that maybe marriage was the wrong decision. He does not mean these things. But you have taken them to heart.

You start to cry, the whites of your eyes now bloodshot. Hiccups erupting from your lips. Sobs that beg him to take all his words back.

He doesn’t.

“Fine” you sniff, “I will let you be “.

A sickening feeling blooms in him when you leave, your bag tossed over your shoulder.

When you pass it is like no other.

He felt it burn through him. Regret. Guilt. Loneliness. He knew something had went wrong.

Your body had been found on the streets, bloodied, bones shattered, arms disfigured. You had tried to put up a fight, that was for sure. It made him sick. He felt numb. Practically in denial of your death. Of your murder.

He could have saved you…..he promised you. You have given him everything he wanted, and yet this…he couldn’t even prevent this from happening.

Your face, swollen and bruised. Eyes blackened and cheeks cut open. Your soft lips, never to kiss his again.

If only he hadn’t been selfish, you wouldn’t have went out that night. You could have been here, with him, embracing him. Telling him that you loved him for all eternity.

The wedding band was still firm on your finger, your blood thick over Vergil’s name engraved on the ring.

Vergil kisses you one last time before your body is sealed in it’s coffin, a wooden box that shall keep your remains concealed forever. Your lips are so cold now, lifeless and chapped. Lacking it’s warmth and tenderness that you usually carried.

A part of him regrets kissing you. Your frozen face and your icy touch will now haunt him for the rest of his life. Terrorize his dreams.

Just a couple of months ago you two had stood in the old Victorian chapel, the stained glass casting an array of colors over your gentle smile. The beginning.

The last image of you is an image of death. They are lowering you into the Earth, shovels tossing dirt over the wooden case. An end.

Dante has offered that Vergil should stay with him, get away from the home that he once shared with you. His brother figured it would be best, a solution to rid him of his sorrow. The elder refuses every time.

Your presence…your glow. It still is fresh, and alive in the walls of the home. He must stay. He must stay for you. Sometimes he swears he hears your voice in the halls, your sweet tone making him panic and get up, just to realize he is only imagining it. He is only imagining that you are not gone. That you are still here with him.

He still visits your grave, as often as he possibly can. In the meantime, he tends to the tree he has planted in your garden, a magnolia tree that is fresh and desperately trying to grow. He wished he could show you.

There had been one night where he had a nightmare, images of you screaming and crying his name, pleading for help as you died, crimson leaking from your lips as you sputter blood.

“Vergil! Help me!”.

He wakes in a cold sweat, so terrified that it genuinely shakes him. This vision had stayed clinging in his dreams ever since your death, never sparing him mercy.

On nights like this, he rushes to enter your art room, sitting amongst your wooden work chair, now too restless and shaken to attempt to sleep again. He knew if he tried, he would only be met with the image of your lifeless form again.

He sits there, your painting of him underneath the willow tree sitting proudly amongst your art desk. You had told him it was your most prized possession. Your best work. He thought so too.

He cries your name under the glum luminescence of the moon.

He decides this time, he will paint you. No matter how bad he does it, your beauty will always bleed through.

[cazzyf1]

My favourite quotes and facts from "Wolfgang Graf Berghe von Trips - Biographie von Reinold Louis'

Warning: I've been translating this book from German to English as I read and took down notes, so some of the quotes are not grammatically correct or sound off due to the translator

• He believed in God

• His mother nicknamed him 'Little Wolf'

• Up until age six Wolfgang von Trips grew up alone away from children, so when he first went to school with others he was beaten by mean kids as he didn't know how to interact around them

• "I was never beaten. With one exception: when I was said to have lied, which wasn't true. I was always raised to be completely honest and have always followed this. That's why I was incredibly insulted at the time because people didn't believe me and because I felt the punishment was unfair." -p23

• The first time he drove a car on public roads was when he was 14 and out horse riding with his dad. His dad's horse got spoked and his dad fell off and smashed his nose. Wolfgang was unable to keep control of his horse so had to let him go and hope he went back the stable (which he did) while Wolfgang ran home, told his mum what had happened and got a family car out, drove it through the village to his dad and then drove him to the doctors

• "I had to stand in front of this Christmas tree and the nativity scene and recite my Christmas poem: 'I come from deep in the forest, I have to tell you, it's very Christmassy...' The memory of this is very deeply embedded in me. -p26

• Wolfgang was intrested in astronomy but never got the time to look more into it

• He didn't like spinach

• "What I saw of the war back then, what I had to go through myself, affected me very much and, as they say, I literally collapsed and was then sent home." - p34

• "I said that I was once very idealistic and devoted myself to all things that in our country were called war and defense of the fatherland. And now the war was lost. That was actually a complete inner breakdown for me because I simply didn't know where I belonged now." - p37

• "I had never been on a motorcycle before, so I had a crazy fear of the monster. But I dreamed of her and I wanted to take her to bed with me." - p42

• When Wolfgang was at his boarding school with his car, him and his friends would sneak over into the French border in his car and smuggle back wine to drink

• Wolfgang was arrested once in front of the British soilders as he had been trading farm food for tyres with a British soilder but then the British soilder died and some other soldiers discovered the tyres on Wolfgangs car and thought he had stole them

• "First day alone on Kreuzeck then Zugspitze, met 2 girls. Next day Wank. Met the ice revue girls again in the evening. Lived near me. From then on we toured together. Both quite nice. One too sensible. Other fall in love with me. Those were nice days"

• "I don't have a single real friend there either. I socialize like that with everyone, but it's not the right thing. The boys are completely different from here." - P49

• Wolfgang really liked going to the cinema, he saw films like 'The last Veil', 'People from the variety show' and 'Son ein Früchtenchen'

• At his apartment when at school he loved to sleep on his balcony when it was hot

• "It's actually funny, I still don't have a girlfriend, I have to laugh sometimes, and there aren't many sensible girls around either." - p50

• "I'm currently lying in my castle with my head under a deck chair because of the sun, eating crumble cake and drinking Biomaris. The boy is racing around like crazy trying to get to the girls. One of them keeps looking at him challengingly and it drives him completely crazy. I haven't met anyone yet, I'm just lazing around in the area." - p51

• "I haven't been happy with myself for a long time. The swing, the fresh naturalness, etc. have been lost to me here.But I don't want to believe what mom says about vapid selfishness. I defend myself against it. Must be different. Self-aggrandizing. I look bad, she says almost every time lately. I'm kind of weird too. Sometimes I don't feel completely healthy. Right now I'm ok." - p65

• Wolfgang von Trips was forced to leave his school as he wasn't doing well in his classes. He could recognise this and knew that he had no motivation for school as it was making him very lazy because he didn't have the energy to do well. All that brought him joy was his motorbike racing that he had started to pick up.

• His was then sent to another school to focus more on agriculture and found the people he was with more interesting than previously

• He didn't always eat well so his parents had it arranged that he could go to a hotel and get food whenever he wanted however when he wanted to buy a car he made a deal with the hotel that he wouldn't eat there anymore in exchange for the money his parents said and the hotel can pretend he was eating there

• "I was really afraid of death when I heard Beethoven's piano sonata op. 111" - p85

• "And then I'm so tense, kind of nervous. It's also because I deal with too many people and this causes me to tear myself apart. I don't have a steady girlfriend, sometimes I flirt with Erika Perps, then I'm with Erika Nies and Birgitta, I keep an iron in the fire everywhere and yet I'm not really friends with anyone" - p88

• "I'm not okay. I think Rosa likes me. It's a strange relationship between us. Somehow I know she's not right for me. I like her a lot and it's also very practical, but I've been looking for something else for a long time, but I don't have the energy to, firstly, get away from it and, secondly, to find a really nice, lovely girl who I like and who has something It requires striving for something more formed and more stable. Well, let's see how everything goes. I already had an unpleasant thing with my mother because of it. She spoke to Rosa's mother about us and this trivial matter turned into an embarrassingly stupid one because this one comment about her son-in-law was made to Heinz who told me about it. I stupidly raged at mom and now she snapped. Well, okay again now. Firstly, it's embarrassing for me and secondly, I definitely don't want anyone to say or suspect anything about Rosa and me in any circles. I wouldn't be happy with that." - p91

• "Unfortunately, I'm afraid of feelings and can't live them out or give myself up to surrender to them. I'm not honest with myself. Even with girls. I always played, never admitted my feelings, not even to Mira or to myself. Erika and Rosa now live together. Is it better for me? Erika is a lovely guy, I like him very much. Had some wine and liqueur last night. Was one with Rosa an hour alone in the room. Usual scuffle, she was very soft and had tears in her eyes as I tormented her with words. I like them, that's very clear, but somehow I have an obstacle. I'm almost afraid to bring about a discussion, an understanding, because then I no longer feel free and I don't want to commit myself under any circumstances, especially not in this case. It would be nice to simply like a person and know that they like you and to have mutual understanding and a feeling of togetherness. Then again I think it wasn't real with her and I'm too ashamed to reveal myself. But it's just the way it is, when you're intimate with a person, something has to say about whether you want to overcome me and I have it here or not. (Just writing this down now costs the fear of saying too much. But that also depends on the object.) Oh, what I would give for the moment when I could write affirmatively with all my heart here in this book "I'm in love" to show myself like that to people and calmly to the world around me. I'm sure I have these feelings now too, and sometimes I'm quite happy when I'm with her. But it annoys me that there is no one else where, as I said, I could freely admit it." - p94

• "The last few days have been completely under the influence of Marlene, my entire day thinking only revolved around her. Especially when I'm alone, I torment myself with the idea of ​​having to leave in a few days and then not seeing her again. I've never experienced anything like that in my life and I'm completely blown away. When I'm with her it's a little different, you don't think like that. But it's true that I love her very much. I've never seen a girl like that before, she's pretty much what I dreamed of, a real young, completely untouched girl. Think she loves me too. Went with her last night to the fireworks in a neighboring town (with her sister, her fiancé and an Englishman who, unfortunately, he was visiting her). I was able to curl up and walk along the bank with her. I could barely hold a conversation, it was strange. I always have the specter of never seeing her again and I'm just different in everything when I'm with her. There are no words to describe what it was like, I can only state the facts, not the feeling. Maybe later I'll remember how I suddenly took her in my arms and kissed her, not on the mouth. I took it easy for a moment and I've never seen a girl feel like that. Think it was her first hug. God, I want to capture all of this, but when I think about yesterday and read it now... You can't express it in a few words. was as if they were together men would sink. I don't know, she became very soft and walked completely differently without any support. I would have loved to tease her. Had to go back soon. She kept saying “you” to me. I asked her if she would like to have me. She evaded the fact that I would soon be leading. But she said that until now she had raved and was happy with a few boys and now that she had met me something had torn inside her. Have to ask her again what she means by that. Maybe things will actually get better once I'm gone. But now I have a fear of the descent that doesn't leave me alone all day long. This afternoon I lay in my bed and cried like a little girl. Child. Baseless. Then I slept a bit and then went for a swim, but always brooding and longing for Marlene. On Friday I was in Friborg with her and the really nice Englishman (I could kill him) in a '50 Pontiac Hydromatic. It cost me 150 francs, but I was with her. Sometimes she looks at you. I notice I'm going crazy, will it be over soon? Don't think so. It's pretty deep, but what should I do? Hopefully I can get her alone again, it's not easy. I never thought something like this could happen to me. I'd better stop writing, it'll all come out of one thing. I'm in love, I'm loved too, but what's the use? Lausanne-Cologne-Benefeld is too far, hopefully I'll probably get over it soon and so will she, the little one. But one more thing as a fact: I don't smoke anymore and not as long as I have my love for her. Hold on too, I know that..." - p98/99

• "I just have times when I have no vitality, I don't do anything, I'm tired and I see everything as if through a veil, I can't find an excuse for anything and I completely lose connection with the past and the future. By that I mean that all plans are forgotten and nothing is carried out what was planned. That nothing is planned for the future and that all further thoughts are no longer there, there is nothing that could give me a boost. Then the picture suddenly changes. You remember the good streak again, pick up old plans, make new ones, feel good and just have it no longer have these dragging feelings like before, is somehow freer, as if freed from a nightmare and can do something. I just want to know how this is connected, whether it's purely physical in nature is or whatever comes into" - p112

• Wolfgang would feel very depressed being back at home after he finished school. He felt trapped and being alone without any young friends was tough on him.

• Wolfgang has commitment issues and he found it hard announcing it to the world his feelings and that he is intrested in someone. Instead he preferred to hide it all.

• Wolfgang found it hard to figure out if what he felt towards a woman was love or infatuation. He would have sex with the girls he knew but was very hesitant to have relationships. His feelings would change quickly and he could quickly loose intrest. He did love Rosa a bit but not to the extent that she loved him

• He tried to quit smoking a few times but it would always come back

• "I actually like dancing, not very well, but I like it. I really like jazz music gladly. I also like classical music, thanks to my mother. My mother has a very great understanding of music. She used to play the piano herself, almost to the point where she was ready for a concert, and that's why we often had it in our house good music, piano concerts and stuff, heard. I was exposed to jazz music through the colored Americans with whom I had these discussions. They often played their records during the day and told me a lot about jazz." - p121

• "The days with Marlene in Heidelberg and Stuttgart were nice, but they could no longer be what being with the girl meant to me back in Switzerland. I was really in love then, but now I saw a lot of things with different eyes. Maybe my whole inner hollowness and apathy is partly to blame, but mainly the fact that the charm of the unspoken and very tender, unconscious and, to me, so foreign way of approaching and communicating with a girl doesn't mean anything under normal circumstances is extraordinary and therefore only the appeal of the real A very touching and very delicately hinted caress remains." - p121/122

• "then the moment comes when I'm standing on the street in Cologne and see the buyer driving away on my motorcycle, my R 51. My motorcycle, which carried me through the years, which was, so to speak, my everything, with which I drove to all my events and visited my girlfriend! This piece of my life was suddenly taken away by someone else! Then my world collapsed inside me, it was terrible, I stood there and wanted to cry" - p136

• "Wolfgang has a lot of self-doubt during this phase. He simply lacks a conversation partner with whom he can exchange ideas, who can inspire him or who can provide him with assistance in some other way. He often sits alone in his second room in Brühl and sees writing letters as the only way to express his thoughts" - p138

• "I sometimes see myself as the offspring of a rich family who races in his youth and has no idea about anything and no more money when he gets old. I dont want that...I still have to learn something, but I can't stop driving, I'm too invested in it." - p144

• "As I turned more and more to the car, this began to fade because I suddenly had something else on the side that I hadn't had before. She actually gave us the impetus, as they say, to break things off. Of course, I initially rejected this. Then, when she noticed that I was slipping more and more into this car atmosphere, I wrote She told me that it would be better if we separated so that we wouldn't destroy our beautiful memories too. It can no longer be the way it was anyway. All of this went through my head again when I didn't turn right as usual, but instead stayed on the motorway and continued driving. That was a moment I will never forget because it was probably the final crossroads. But at that moment I also realized that from now on a new life will begin for me and that everything will somehow be completely different. Actually, I was kind of happy about it. It was something new and I really threw myself into it and dedicated my heart and soul to this driving." - p146

• ">Ovo con salato - that was the first Italian I heard and that I wrote it down in my diary, and I always remember this “ovo con salato” fondly. So we all ate egg and salad and then it was time to go to our hotel, the address of which had been written down for us and which was in Gardone Val frompia. That was such a nice sounding word and I thought it was so great, that I constantly said it to myself, yes I had to say it because I often said it afterwards had to ask for directions. >Excuse me, where to Gardone Val Trompia? I had to learn this sentence by heart that evening and yet everything was so great for me that I hardly slept the rest of the night because of my excitement." - p147

• "But what moved me the most was the fact that I, who only had a shirt and trousers to wear, received a white overall from the Porsche mechanics with the words “Porsche” clearly visible on the back. That was really great for me" - p148

• "Helmut is very excited: Your parents are standing back there, I think they've already recognized me. What we do?" So I turn around very carefully and I see my mother with the binoculars, looking right at me. So there was nothing to be done and so I half a good face made the bad game and waved. She then waved and I went over to her to the delight of the audience in the stands who were watching everything. I found a place with my parents and from the stands watched the race for the “European Grand Prix,” which Juan Manuel Fangio won in the new Mercedes-Benz. I don't remember much else because the big races were at that time outside of my sphere of interest" - p157

• "When he took part in motorcycle competitions as one of the "three wild pigs", Rolf Clasen's wife always packed an extra package of sandwiches "ur da Jung" in his storage bag. And after he switched to a pumped Porsche, his sports mates Friedrich Victor H and Hans Lappe supplied him with food during racing events and the cook at eese Rolff often opened her pantry in the evenings when Wolfgang was on his way home" - p167

• "'Well, boy, now listen. You are now the young guy in the racing team and maybe you are even faster than Karl Kling. But it's certainly more intelligent if you stay behind him, because he's the big driver now, and since he wants to step down soon, it would certainly be better and so...” And so on. There I stood, a little embarrassed and didn't know how to behave" - p185

• "Then I was allowed to drive three laps and get out again. I was never told what times I achieved. Nobody cared about me. There was not a word of recognition, no advice or criticism. Nothing came, nothing at all and, to be honest, I was very embarrassed. Only one person took the time to talk to me and that was Juan Manuel Fangio. We didn't have a common language, but his comradely care for me, a newcomer, was evident in every gesture he made and in every word he spoke, which I mostly only partially understood. I never forgot that, even in later years when I was more firmly in the saddle and had found my own way, and I believe that there is no better way to carry and preserve the memory of the great man and racing driver Fangio than trying to emulate him in every way. Looking back, I don't want to blame anyone, because before this race everyone had to deal with themselves. It was quite a burden and I also had to master this car at speeds that were completely unknown to me up to that point" - p191

• Wolfgang experiences Christmas and the New Year on the high seas. Peter Collins is not only an ideal travel companion for him, but he is active also with great success as an entertainer for the passengers. If he his When stories are told about racing cars, the slopes and colleagues, those standing by listen, fascinated and mostly smiling. The ship is anchored in Montevideo for two days because the cargo has to be unloaded. After an afternoon stroll through the city, two passengers are missing: Peter Collins and a young Brazilian woman who got on in Rio. Excitement on board, especially with Wolfgang. The ship finally sets off half an hour late. Peter suddenly appears from the crowd on land collins at a stretched trot, holding the girl by the hand. Wolfgang has his film camera at hand and captures this scene. Collins gesticulates to find someone who is chasing the dwindling steamer with him and the girl in an ancient tucker boat. Hundreds Pairs of eyes follow the maneuver from the deck. The ship has to hey and shorten the distance. Sailors have already started down a gangway. The “pursuers” found it difficult to keep up with Taempo, but that made little sense because the distance was increasing instead of decreasing. Wolfgang rushes to the captain with two other passengers. When the command "Slow speed ahead" got to the engine room, the Boce got them. The two of them climbed on board with embarrassed faces. A nice spat from the captain follows and Collins, who was wrong about the time, falls out of favor with the passengers." - p229/230

• "An English friend Peter Collins dispelled all my doubts and persuaded me. I also have him to thank for the fact that my first racing adventure in a formula car ended well." - p231

• "I was amazed at the endless patience of Peter Collins, who came to me after every lap and told me what I had done wrong" - p232

• "I stood there closed my eyes, thought of an extreme curve and mentally performed everything that I had tried in vain to master during training. >Approach the curve, brake carefully, let it slide away, not too much, accelerate. How many times have I repeated this and muttered it to myself, rehearsed it in my head? I don't know it. Anyway, Mike Hawthorn poked me in the ribs and asked: >What about you? Are you crazy?<" - p232

• "Finally he arrived, and sure enough, he rolled up to the pits. I can't remember why I already had my helmet on and my gloves on, but that's how it was. All I had to do was get in the car and drive off. Nevertheless, my throat almost constricted with excitement. Galt. Maybe Collins' stay in the pits isn't mine at all? Then he waved to me. I couldn't believe he meant me and looked around for Mike Hawthorn, who was standing nearby. But Mike acted as if it was none of his business, even though it would have been his turn if Peter Collins had wanted to get out.. 'Come on, get away,' Collins said to me as he got up from the cockpit, and Icha was in the Formula 1 car faster than I had hoped and dreamed." - p233

• "I felt an exhilarating feeling because I knew that I had joined the circle of Grand Prix drivers and was accepted. But I also knew that I still needed a lot to become a master like my friend Peter Collins, who had selflessly given me a chance." - p233

• "Wolfgang races over a bumpy railway crossing.The car jumps almost a meter high and Wolfgang's provisions are thrown out. Now he only has his pocket supply of glucose at his disposal. And it runs out quickly. Wolfgang's physical strength dwindles, his concentration wanes, he becomes slower." - p240

• Enzo Ferrari definitely should have cut off Wolfgang's beard after this sensational placement. Because the Commendatore made Wolfgang's entry subject to the condition that if he placed from third place upwards, Wolfgang's memory of the Nürburgring accident would have to fall victim to the scissors. At the finish, however, Enzo Ferrari generously waived the agreement and so the "goatee" still adorns Wolfgang's chin when he is a guest at the Frankfurt Motor Show in October and is there for the press. dien poses. Huschke von Hanstein then had a brilliant idea. And so it happens that Wolfgang appears at the exhibition in the morning with a beard and in the afternoon, in a different wardrobe, shows up without a beard and asks an industrial boss, who rubs his eyes in surprise, whether he hasn't seen his brother." - p249

• "You talk about shifting your values ​​- I think that's only partly true. You already have the ability to love within you - but, I think, over time you have simply forgotten how to properly analyze your feelings. And so you have deceived people. I bet it's women who accuse you of callousness and coldness, women who hoped you would do things and do things that Dua can't do, for the one reason that your whole 'I', your whole life, your longing and suffering has a motto that doesn't tolerate rivals or secondary feelings: racing - you're a man possessed somewhere, that's not good because you're sacrificing too much, putting too much into one thing." - a letter sent to Wolfgang from a friend, p 271

• "Wolfgang makes garden plans, he “dusts off” the castle. His mother, a great supporter of natural medicine, keeps dozens of types of tea in a cupboard, almost all of which are so old that there is only tea dust in the boxes and bags. This is a thorn in Wolfgang's side and when his mother is absent again, he removes all the teas from the cupboard, buys a new cupboard and fills it with freshly bought tea herbs. His secretary's horrified question, 'Is this okay? he answers in his own way: >I want to tell you one thing, Ms. Floßdorf. If my mother finds out and I'm still here, I'll be hanging from a tree. But you’re right next to it!” »Me, why me? >You didn't stop it and you didn't tell my mother!" - p278

• "He, who has always gotten along well with Mike, finds this way of dying particularly tragic. A few days later he also expressed his condolences to Enzo Ferrari" - p178

• Count Crashes is what the English dubbed him after his spectacular fall into the rose bush at Monza. The aura of “Graf Bruchs” preceded him to the USA. But the Americans give it a different name: they call it Tattys respectfully and this name was first used by immigrants from Wales to describe people who, because of their courage and fearlessness, were exemplary and outstanding in the settlement of the former “Wild West”. were. Taffy, that's what most of his racing colleagues call him, is what journalists in newspapers, magazines and radio stations call him. And "Taffys is a popular and skillful interview partner and when his bright and bold boyish face with his lively gray eyes flashes across the American television stations in the bungalows, palaces, apartments, living rooms and even slums and he speaks easily in a bright voice, answers easily, even downright effervescently, then many a “lady” or “mommy” looks at the television screen with interest and fascination and lets the cooking pot be the cooking pot or the ice in the whiskey glass melting. Even after races, when only the stripes around his eyes are white because his racing goggles have kept away the dirt that has been swirling up over many hours, when his face is smeared and his hair is sticky with sweat, his entire appearance still reminds you of you Aristocrats and in his verve Robert Redford, who is already at the top of women's favor" - p 280

• "Wolfgang, who has been looking after young talent in motorsports for some time and always strives to get young athletes off the road and onto the safe airfield racing tracks for many people in the clubs." - p293

• 'Elfriede Floßdorf constantly supplies the beautiful Sicilian from Horem with “Muesli à la Wolfgang”, made from oat flakes, fresh fruits and honey from Hemmersbach production. When visiting Catania, Wolfgang can rely on a well-loved and familiar meal thanks to the care and provision of his secretary. Whenever possible, Wolfgang prefers "his" muesli to any other meal and when there are races in Spa-Francorchamps, the Nürburgring or Hockenheim, Elfriede is always there with fresh muesli to please the "Mr. Count" - like her yourself always expressed to seekers - to keep them strong and happy. His muesli also gives Wolfgang the strength he needs in the 1000 km race at the Nürburgring." - p295

• "When his parents are absent for a long period of time, he "makes a point of doing things." In the absence of a key to the room, which can only be accessed from the outside, he simply breaks a window and gains access. Then we tidy up, clear out and rearrange and finally a beautiful room is created that, after breaking through the door, can now be accessed directly from the castle" - p295

• "A second telephone is right next to her bed, because Wolfgang has the habit of calling almost always and from everywhere, just like that ask questions and give instructions. His many starts and trips in South and North America and later in South Africa mean that most of the calls come at night. When the phone rings on Parkstrasse in Horrem after midnight and Elfriede Floßdorf answers, his recurring question is also a greeting: "Have you slept yet?" - p313

• "Wolfgang is one of the witnesses and at the wedding banquet in the "Stallmästergarden" he has the Swedish Princess Birgitta as his table lady. This doesn't catch him unprepared, because Joakim has prepared him for it: "You will be Princess Birgitta's cavalier and that's why it would be good if your tailcoat, which has been under a lot of wear and tear recently, is thoroughly cleaned up." - p 315

• “They were color films, bright colors, but the most beautiful thing about them was what the young count said about them. It just bubbled out of him, and if these two hours could have been broadcast on television, it would have been one of the best. nest programs that have ever been shown." - p 316

• "But what was most charming was his lovely smile and the lively humor with which he knew how to spice things up without meaning to. You had to like Trips, even though he hasn't become a Fangio or a Caracciola yet." - p 316

• "And I believe that the moment we manage to use a technical object to increase our joy in life, our joy in learning - it takes a lot of learning to master such an instrument - and use it in sporting competition , we are not on the wrong path." - p 330

• To declare the right to want to practice our sport without hostility and defamation. We have to express that we cannot do this in the desired form under the current conditions because we lack events and people are negative, almost hostile, towards us . We have to find ways to exercise that exclude the dangers that motorsport has so far become famous for. We must present clear figures about events in England and America and make it clear that we motorsport enthusiasts are no longer willing to be treated as stepchildren.The event must be held in a representative setting. If possible, all sports and racing vehicles in Germany should be exhibited." - p 335

• "Now guess where I was?” The Floßdorf couple, once again brought out of their sleep by Wolfgang to gain entry to the castle and give him his keys, look puzzled. 1a in South Africa...< says Elfriede and husband Willi wants to add something, but he is interrupted by Wolfgang: »I was with the “good Lord”!” "Where were you?!" I gush about the events of the last few days I celebrated New Year's Eve with the Good Lord. You're amazed, aren't you?" Wolfgang's only joy is that he celebrated the turn of the year with the Aga Khan and many guests in his residence together with Princess Gabrielle of Savoy, whom he greatly admired, daughter of the Italian ex-King Umberto." P337

• "Let me tell you a short episode. I was racing with Fangio in Argentina and Fangio flew out of a corner in front of me due to a driving error. We talked about it afterwards and he said to me: 'Yes, I just made a mistake!< You see, a person like Fangio, who for us and especially for me is the greatest driver of our time, even he can fly out of a curve due to a driving error. For me it was, I would almost say, a great experience because I saw that even a driver as perfect as Fangio is ultimately still a person who constantly has to work harder." - p 343

• "This may sound strange, but I just don't have the energy to shake very many hands, so I usually put my hands in my pockets and just nod my head. So this is not rudeness on my part, just a protective device. Because many people think that I have to say goodbye particularly nicely." - p 366

• "There is a happy and exuberant atmosphere at the evening party. Wolfgang leads his guests through the old moated castle and some of the 45 rooms and shows them the sauna he built himself. Joakim Bonnier knows Hemmersbach almost better than he does at home in Sweden, because he is a guest here, often with his wife, and is always welcome. The guests are impressed by the castle." - p 396

• "The next morning he came for breakfast, we stayed together with small interruptions until the afternoon, swam and while we lay in the garden and enjoyed the sun, I prayed that time would stand still - but the good Lord was not merciful. And Then the moment came when he stood calmly in front of me and told me to keep my ears straight - and his last look, those laughing eyes, comforted me..." - p 399

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi Cas ! how are you ?

I'm struggling in the romance department right now lmao so I thought you might have some advice :(

Basically there is this girl I really REALLY like. We met through a friend three years ago, but in person only a year ago. Seeing her in person literally changed me I never liked someone this much like I was BEWITCHED or something. We only spent two days together and we only had one kiss, but I never managed to get her out of my head.

I never saw her again because she left to study abroad for a year. Now she's back in my country but we live a bit far away so I haven't seen her. When she was abroad we kept talking and flirting etc. But at one point she told me she had met somebody and that she wanted to try with him. It ended up not working and she reached out to me after some time, so we began talking (and flirting) again.

The thing is, for a few weeks now I feel like she isn't exactly flirting with me anymore. Except she kinda is. She is a writer and she has a writing instagram account where she posted poems that are clearly romantic but also clearly not about me. At least I really don't think so. It feels like a knife in the heart everytime. To be noted that usually if not always she does write about personal things that are really happening. So I'm pretty sure there is someone else in her mind. Which is fine because we didn't promise each other anything. But she is still replying to my stories etc and saying things that could pass as friendly but only if we didn't have history you know ? Like she's making lesbian jokes (i'm also a girl).

So the mixed signals are killing me. I also don't understand bc she said something about the guy before, but she didn't say anything this time. I feel like maybe she .... keeps her options open. (which is fine btw, I'm just unsure if she's still into me or not) I can't exactly ask her because we don't talk a lot (I'm so bad at keeping in touch if I have nothing specific to say yk?) and I don't want to come off as intrusive.

I would really like to see her in person so maybe we could talk and/or I could understand better where her heart is at. But being so unsure I don't want to propose a date or something bc I feel like it would be really out of the blue right now, and one of us would have to take the train and sleep at the other's place, so it feels like a lot and something she could refuse easily so I really don't feel comfortable doing that. I want it to be clear that I'm still into her bc I don't know if she is aware of it (it's obvious imo but I know she has confidence issues and at one point she thought I didn't care) but I also don't want to come off too strong and scare her away, and/or get rejected (not sure my heart could take it right now😭)

So I'm thinking maybe an outing with friends (we have several in common now) but again it is complicated bc everyone lives far away. Also she doesn't talk to one of them anymore, and that friend coul take it very badly if she's not invited so that would be a whole other mess (but honestly that friend is annoying and quite toxic and has a lot of issues so... I'm trying not to think too much of that)

Anyway I'm really lost, I really don't to give up on her, like it hurts a lot to think about, but also I feel like maybe she isn't as invested as I am. I would 100% take a train to the other side of the country to see her but I fear she isn't even thinking about that. Maybe I'm paranoid though. Also I think it's not so bad if someone isn't completely in it from the beginning, like some people are more guarded and careful than me and it's okay.

I don't know if you'll be able to help me, but I'd really like to hear your opinion on this. Thanks a lot <3

Hi!!! <3

What you said at the end is exactly what I was thinking though- maybe she's just guarded or nervous? I think you should try to give little hints or like...idk suggest meeting somewhere maybe? See how she reacts? Maybe she's just as nervous, if not more nervous than you. If she's iffy about it, it'll make it clear to you that she just wants to be friends. But if she jumps at the chance, then that's your sign. And even if you can't meet in person, maybe try being a bit more forward? I know it's scary but like...you have to know! You don't have to all-out ask her out, just be a bit more flirty and see if she reciprocates. You said you've kissed in the past so in my opinion, that means there's hope, you know?

Good luck! Naming you train anon.

[corcordium1983]

Not to be sappy on main... but I'm going to be incredibly sappy on main. Six years ago I was Not Doing Well™ and I found an escape in books and films, and I fell in love with a story about two boys somewhere in Italy in the mid-eighties. I recently reread the book and realised it doesn't quite resonate with me anymore, but that's OK, because it gave me one of the most precious and treasured things in my life: my friendship with @timobeechalamet. Matilde, who always makes me laugh and, bless her, has to listen to basically every waking thought that goes through my head. Matilde, who never judges me when I admit I'm struggling with something, and who is always willing to lend an ear if I need to vent. Matilde, who has introduced me to so many great artists, so many good books and films, which has in turn enriched my life infinitely. Matilde, who despite adversity is doing amazing things and will go on to do even more amazing things, and I will be so happy to see it. Matilde, who despite living on opposite ends of the continent, never lets the distance come between us (perks of being introverts I guess). Matilde, who I literally could not picture my life without. If my calculations are correct, we met IRL for the first time exactly 6 years ago to this date, when we went to wave Elio and Oliver goodbye at the Prince Charles Cinema in London. I've been pondering lately how on earth it's only been six years, when it feels like you've been in my life forever, so to honour the occasion I came out of poetry writing retirement to write you a little poem. I don't say it enough, but I love you. 🖤 For Matilde

What does it mean - Before I knew you? I have always known you My essence always reaching for yours Through the ether

I observed our elliptical orbits Slowly, then surely, congrue In times of twilight I could sense Your silhouette whispering with the promise Of a hand to hold

Time folds in on itself I watch your sun-dappled childhood Through a lens of knowing That only comes with age

Your memories were gifted to me retroactively I cherish them like I do my own And you know my mother Though you never got to meet her

Flicking through the photo album Of pictures from my childhood I see the sepia-hued ghost Of future-you, readying to take form I hope I haunt your pictures, too

For now, we can rest in the comfort Of finding someone  Whose trajectory matches your own When the universe does not always comprehend Your singular, brilliant, spark

I want to see you into old age With memories shared - not just borrowed My whispered secrets and shouted truths All of them, I want to give to you

So don’t you say “Before I knew you” I was always waiting for you You were always already here

Thank you, for holding my hand

[natequarter]

a more detailed version of my era shift au:

the captain is a roman soldier. he's the oldest ghost around, and the rest of the ghosts know fuck all about him, including how he got the name captain, or why he's not wearing roman armour, or, you know, how he died...

pat is an anglo-saxon bard who went to the trouble of writing his own poems - but his wife's lover stole it from him, and he's spent the last thousand or so years angry at that rather than fact that he was murdered after getting caught up in a tavern brawl. priorities, man

fanny (originally stephanie, centuries later dubbed fanny by kitty) is a medieval noblewoman married off to (insert title here) george. her cause of death is a mystery lost to history - was it an accident? was it murder? was it a suicide? if they'd just look in a mirror, they would quite literally see the answer staring back at them and yelling at them to wear their hair up properly, disgraceful whores!

thomas thorne is a young nobleman of the 1490s, determined to prove his worth to the lady isabelle in a jousting tournament. too bad that francis clanged him over the head with some heavy metal object. he fell face-forwards and died. convinced that if he just practices enough, he might someday become good at jousting (this is not true)

julian is also a nobleman - a stuart under charles ii this time. it's a bit too early for the time period, but picture the earl of croydon in bill, and you've more or less got the vibe. not actually the owner of button house: he was caught sleeping with the real owner's wife, and beheaded in a fit of rage

mary is a servant from the 1850s. the east wing of button house burnt down after some idiot left a candle burning during the night by accident; nobody else died, because the rest of the household awoke in time to put the fire out, but mary choked on the smoke, and has been very bitter that no one managed to save her ever since

kitty is a stylish young woman of the 1930s. she was invited to a dinner party in the style of an agatha christie murder mystery... unfortunately, this took a far too literal turn when her sister actually did poison her. kitty is half annoyed at being murdered and half kind of vibing with the whole real life murder mystery vibe she has going on, and has been enthusiastically following the attempts to solve the kitty case (as she likes to put it)

humphrey is an ex-soldier and painter who died in the mid-1950s. he was unwillingly drafted into ww2, but managed to survive, go back home, and eventually escape to the countryside and rent out heather button's gatehouse, a welcome break from a post-war world which for a post-war mind was incredibly stressful. he painted and sold landscapes for several years. things were finally looking up! oh, and then he died of carbon monoxide poisoning. absolutely shit way to go after living through two world wars

and finally there's robin, an early 2000s conspiracy theorist who thought gravity wasn't real, tested his hypothesis by jumping out a window, and was very, fatally wrong. his nokia brick is still going strong though