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lossis · 2 months

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The Seal's Lament

First day of Mythtalia March!

So, I combined two different mythlogies, firstly I got the idea of a Selkie and put it into Alexandros' Papadiamadis story, the seal's lament.

It's VERY good, also short so if you wanna check it out, I think there's an english translation somewhere.

Main pairing: Germany/Italy, HRE/Italy

TW: Implied Abuse, and CHILD DEATH. It's not described. Slight descriptions of a corpse. YOU ARE WARNED.

Mythtalia March is by @hwsevents

On an island, the name of it unknown, though it lies in the middle of the Aegean Sea, during an era of poverty and illness, there was a child, long ago, his name was Ludwig Beilschmidt.

His family was not too poor, at least not anymore. They used to buy food for ten people, and they barely had enough left to survive. But after the sickness that plagued his home a few years ago, they never had to think about food again.

He used to have a myriad of siblings. Now only Gilbert remained.

Whenever he wanted to think alone, he would go and walk along the rocky beach of his island, which was called Kochyle, and gaze upon the sea. His brother would herd the goats and play the flute all the while, and his grandfather would wash the clothes in the salty water, only to clean them again in the small stream nearby their house.

Ludwig was a silent child; he didn’t have many friends and he preferred to play alone. If he even wanted to. Most likely he could be found helping his grandfather with his tasks, even if he didn’t hear a single word of thanks from him.

Sometimes, during his walks, he would sit down and listen to the crash of the sea waves and focus on the repetitive calming motion. One time, he decided to take a walk during the night, seeing that Gilbert and his grandfather wouldn’t stop yelling at each other.

That warm summer night, the sea was still like olive oil, and when he sat down nearby a small cave, there was complete silence for a bit. The moon was full that night, but the stars seemed to shine just as bright as if there was complete darkness. Then, he heard a sound in the distance.

It was otherworldly, and beautiful. High pitched, like the yell of seals and melodic like the movement of the fish. Ludwig was immobile, entranced by the sweet melody.

Then, more voices, and more and more, until an entire orchestra of alien melodies sang at the empty beach. The voices got louder and louder, until at the crescendo of the giant melody, there was silence again.

Ludwig sat still, afraid and hypnotized.

A seal burst through the sea. Then another and another, until around thirty or forty seals laid against the surface. Ludwig hid behind a large rock and put a hand over his mouth. He then sneaked a peek at the seal gathering.

They weren’t seals anymore. They had shed or were shedding their skins and were now human. They laughed with each other in a strange language, akin to gurgles and pulled more and more people out of sealskins.

Ludwig’s eye fell upon a younger seal, and its father, or grandfather, trying to say something to it. It yelled out a few times, and the grandfather said something again.

Then the seal started taking off its skin, taking on the form of a human. He was the same age as Ludwig, only thinner, and with curly brown-red hair. He took his grandfather’s hand and went inside the cave.

Ludwig stared at the procedures, and then listened to the yells and the dances of the seals within the cave.

He was too tired to move anymore, and he was exhausted. He closed his eyes, and he fell asleep on the tiny rocks of the beach.

The sun was warming him, Ludwig thought as he woke up the next day. He grumbled and tried to push himself upwards. The rocks made his back hurt, and he hissed as his spine ached.

Then, he realized something fell off him. Something like a blanket. He was confused, so Ludwig looked at the fallen sheet of linen or wool. But it wasn’t linen or wool.

It was sealskin.

Ludwig stared at it for a moment. He opened his mouth to make something like a scream, but then something made a sound of surprise. Ludwig looked upwards and saw the boy from last night. He was wearing just a cloth, had tan skin and deep brown eyes. He seemed as if he had been in the sea just a second ago, droplets dripping down his hair and nose.

Ludwig didn’t say anything. Neither did the boy.

Then the boy said something in the tongue that seals spoke. Ludwig didn’t understand a word. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“H-hi” he managed to wretch out of his mouth.

Ludwig was stunned. “Hello” he returned.

They stared at each other for a while. Then, the boy pointed at himself and made a strange sound out of his mouth. He must have seen Ludwig’s confusion, because he laughed. It was loud, but Ludwig found it endearing.

Then he made the sounds again, but with a syllabic form. “Fe-li-ci-a-no"

Ludwig tried to pronounce that, but he could only pronounce Feli right.

“My... apologies.” Ludwig said. “I cannot pronounce your name...”

Feli looked blankly at Ludwig.

He sighed and got entirely out of the sealskin. It lay on the ground, dry and brown. Ludwig put his hand of his heart. Then he pronounced, slowly and deliberately.

“Lud-wi-g. Ludwig” Feli tried to play the sound in his own mouth. He giggled. Then, he managed to say “Ludwy. Uwig? Luddy?”

Ludwig thought for a moment and nodded. “Luddy. Yes.”

Feliciano said ‘Luddy’ again and again and laughed. Then he spoke in his tongue for a moment.

Ludwig didn’t understand a word. Then Feli stopped and stood up. Head obviously deep in thought. His eyes were shut, and his mouth was in a pout.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and smiled widely. He touched Ludwig’s hand and then pointed at him. Then he ran away from Ludwig, and he was left to understand what this naive boy meant.

He stood up and then walked towards Feli. He walked backwards, a bright smile on his face. Ludwig understood what he wanted to play, but he didn’t have time... his grandfather would search for him... well, at least Gilbert would.

He frowned. After a lot of thought, and a lot of Feli watching him carefully, he made a decision.

He sat down and slowly took off his shoes. Then, he ran towards Feli, first slowly, and then quicker and quicker, hand outstretched to catch him. Feli ran away, quick as a bird. The two children played tag for hours on end, sitting under the bright sun, or splashing into the water.

It was summer after all.

Ludwig was laughing so much; he hadn’t realized the sound came from him. Feli was also smiling, eyes shut. They were sitting on the rock, where Feli’s sealskin lay. Ludwig was sitting beside him, looking at his features.

Feli looked back, and Ludwig blushed, strongly. Feli didn’t seem aware of it though. He looked back at the sun, which was by now harshly illuminating their surroundings.

The sounds of crickets was loud and endless.

“Ludwig!!” There was a yell. Feliciano looked back at Ludwig; confusion obvious.

“Ludwig where are you?!!” It was Gilbert, his brother. For some reason, he didn’t want him to know about Feli, so he pushed himself off the rock and took with him the sealskin. Feli yelped and chased him.

He said something, but Ludwig shushed him and threw the sealskin inside the sea. Feli looked back at the waves and Ludwig. He suddenly hugged him, and jumped inside the waves, taking with him the sealskin.

A moment later, a seal tore through the waves, jumping back inside the endless sea.

“Ludwig!! Where were you, you little shit!? You made me so fucking worried!! God, what even are you doing here?” Gilbert’s tall lanky form appeared beside Ludwig. His hair was bright, and he wore long sleeves and pants.

He shouldn’t have come to the beach at this time, it was too bright. He would get badly sunburnt at home. “I was here last night, and I fell asleep”

“Why were you sleeping fucking here? You could get a cold, and then I’d never hear the end of it from grandfather. My awesome self wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen to you hm?”

Ludwig let him monologue as they walked home.

“Anyway, how did you sleep for so long? It’s already noon, I’ve never seen you sleep for more than an hour after seven.”

“I was tired” was all he said.

In the house, their grandfather stared at Ludwig with empty eyes. He didn’t ask anything, not where he was, not what he did.

He just looked at him and asked him to mop the floors while he went to sleep.

The next night, Gilbert and his grandfather were fighting again. Ludwig sighed and got out of his bed, as the screams woke him up. Looking opposite his bed, where Gilbert normally slept, he could see disturbed sheets, but the bed itself was empty.

Ludwig walked down the now empty hallway, filled with pictures of the dead. He walked down the stairs and the yelling got louder and louder. He heard something break against the floor.

Both Gilbert and his grandfather started screaming more and more, about money, about leaving, or about selling some objects. His grandfather screamed at Gilbert and Ludwig heard a loud crack, skin falling on skin, and then silence.

He slept alone that night.

The next day Ludwig was once again taking a stroll on Kochyle. He was at the cave where he met Feli before and waited for something. Maybe he waited for Feli again, or maybe he just wanted to be away from Gilbert and his unexplained bruised eye.

So, he gazed at the sea. And he waited first for a few minutes, then for a few hours. There wasn’t anyone else to go to, not Gilbert especially, and he most certainly didn’t want to be at home. He didn’t think his grandfather wanted him anyways.

The sun was at its height, and Ludwig decided to swim for a bit to cool down. He took off his shirt and short pants and walked inside the cold sea. He swam for a bit and allowed himself to venture deeper and deeper.

A cold stream flowed beneath his feet, not strong enough to pull him, but enough to need to hold back.

Then, he felt something brush against his feet. He yelped and immediately swam quickly towards the shore, panicking and flailing his hands and feet. Beside him, there was a brown shape, emerging and submerging itself.

Ludwig panicked even more, swimming in panic before the brown shape shot up from the waves and revealed itself as a small seal. It made a few sounds, and Ludwig started to calm down. He stopped moving when his feet touched the sea ground, and he was very close to dry land.

His head was just above the ground, before the seal jumped in front of him, and dove under the sea.

Seconds pass, and Ludwig searches for Feli? in confusion. Suddenly, he hears a soft, thin voice, speaking words in a language akin to the waves that break upon the cliffs of his island.

He turns around, and Feli, holding his sealskin, and smiling sweetly and widely. Ludwig also had a timid smile on his face. The two children got out of the water and sat down on the rock on which they first met.

They looked at each other, and Feli lay down on the rock, he looked tired and ready to take a nap. Ludwig furrowed his brows and turned his head. Feli laughed and pushed Ludwig down, making him lie under the warm sun.

Feli said “Luddy” and then made a face that looked exaggeratedly tired. Ludwig shook his head, but Feli nodded much more strongly. Ludwig sighed, but before he could lie down again, Feli beamed and jumped down.

He took his sealskin and made Ludwig jump down. He then laid it down onto the flat rock and jumped upon it, making himself comfortable and patting a space beside him. Ludwig was panicked and wide eyed. His cheeks reddened a bit.

But Feli insisted, so he timidly lied as far as possible from him, while still sitting on top of his sealskin. Literal seconds later, Feli started snoring and Ludwig looked t him in disbelief. Could he possibly be already asleep?

He snored again. Ludwig chuckled lightly and turned to nap too. A few minutes later, he also fell asleep.

When Feliciano woke up, it was already night. He had been tired from traveling to the shores from his home, but he wanted to see Luddy again! He looked beside him and saw the pale boy that napped on his sealskin.

He smiled, Luddy seemed like he didn’t want to sleep at all, but he is sleeping for more time than him. How funny!

But then came another voice from a distance. “Ludwig! Ludwig!” It was the person who got him last day too, the one Luddy didn’t want him to see.

So, Feliciano shook Luddy awake, and his groggy expression made him feel funny in his stomach. But he pulled on his sealskin, and Luddy looked very confused, and Feliciano jumped in the water of the sea and hid.

“Ludwig!! Ludwig!!!”

Luddy woke up completely, looking behind him. The older boy that appeared was pale. Much, much paler than Luddy, and he had white hair and crimson eyes. Feliciano’s mouth gaped.

The man was obviously Luddy’s brother, he had the same eyebrows and eye shape. But... but...

His brother was a ghost!!!

He knew land dwellers were strange, but this is over the top! Oh, how excited will his brother and grandpa be when they hear of this!

Before he left though, he heard what the two siblings had to say. He didn’t catch much, but he did hear one name. Alaric, and words that repeated, something like grandfather in his tongue.

Ludwig waited for Feli the next day too, and he came. And the next day, and the day after that, and just like that July passed without him noticing. Usually, every day and week passes slowly, dreadfully, without much reason for fun or celebration.

The only irregular things were done by Gilbert, when he went to the village with his friends, or when he fought with grandfather, although that is starting to become regular too. Feli was wonderful to spend time with, the little beach at Kochyle was like an island of solitude where they could do whatever they wanted.

And, sometimes, Ludwig forgot all about his grandfather and Gilbert and the graveyard with his family, so he laughed with Feli as they explored the cave, he laughed as they built sandcastles, and he smiled as he tried to teach Feli his language.

“Ocean”

“Oken”

“O-ce-an"

“O-ke-an"

“Not Okean, Ocean!” He smiled as he said so.

“Ocean!” Feli said eventually. Ludwig nodded, obviously proud with Feli, and himself a bit if he’s being honest.

Feli sat back, he had moved his face close to Ludwig’s and he was blushing a bit. They both turned and gazed at the sea. The waves were calm that day, the sun bright. The seagulls cried out and the two boys sat on the wet rocks, so as to not get scorched by the sun.

Then Feli turned, and Ludwig felt him looking at him. His sealskin was lain bare upon a rock behind them. Ludwig knew so, because he worried that someone would come and steal it.

Ludwig continued holding his head forward, although he knew that Feli was starting to lean in. He knew what was coming, he wanted it to happen, so why did he close his eyes as his cheeks burned bright, bright red?

Oh, he didn’t know. He was only ten, after all.

Feli kissed him slightly on his cheek. And Feli immediately pulled back, as if ridden by shame. Ludwig opened one eye and checked beside him. Feli was red too, only his eyes were wide open with panic.

Ludwig swallowed his fear, because that’s what boys do, or so had Gilbert said once, and kissed Feli on his cheek too, completely red in the face. Feli looked back. He smiled. He rested his head on Ludwig’s shoulder.

The two kids stayed like that for a few minutes as the sun set. Before he left, Feli gave Ludwig a seashell, colorful and bright.

He left a few moments before Gilbert arrived to take him back to the house

It was almost night when Alaric, a miserable poor old man, went down onto the beach to wash his clothes, and to sweeten them into the small stream that wept from a nearby stone.

He was traveling slowly, silently, singing an oh so old lament for his long dead children, his long dead grandchildren. The setting rays of the sun, setting into a mountain nearby, shone the tombstones, white, pure, dead.

He remembered everyone that was in his life. They all left, too soon, Charon the insatiable had taken them, he had sowed them.

The old man took right, where he usually went to wash the clothing. Along the road also lay the graveyard, where a flutist, one of the two grandsons of Alaric who were left, Gilbert, was herding his sheep and playing his flute.

In the graveyard. The joyful flute song put a pause on the old man’s lament. On that side of the island, only these two rested. Alaric had a fight with Gilbert about him leaving a few days before. He only stayed because of his brother.

How idiotic, wanting to leave his grandfather alone, getting older by the day.

A small brown seal also swam at the rocky beach of Kochyle, waiting for something. Or someone.

Ludwig was trying to go to the beach all day, but his grandfather wanted him to clean the house, as he was not that focused for the last month, as if something was distracting him. So, Ludwig was only now leaving, during the setting sun.

He had gone sometimes during the night to Kochyle, but with his grandfather he had t be careful. So, when he got to the graveyard and he found Gilbert playing his flute, he took a turn to the right.

“Where are you going?” Gilbert suddenly asked.

Ludwig stopped, “To the beach” he said.

“Why?”

“To help grandfather.” He thought of something. Gilbert knew something was going on with Ludwig and another person at the beach. Sometimes he thought he caught a glimpse of someone, before revealing itself to be a simple seal.

“Ha! As if I believe you, my brother. But go then, I suppose.” What’s the harm, he had thought. What’s the harm?

Before Ludwig left completely, Gilbert thought to himself that he would stay with Ludwig, no matter what. He would never leave him alone with Alaric.

The boy found a path, leading downwards. He followed it and the trees’ shadows looked as if they were trying to hinder him. The birds had stopped singing, and the cicadas had yet to start. It was silent, silent twilight.

The boy continued downwards, his foot got caught in a bush and he tumbled downwards. He got hurt. He stood up again, a scrape on his knee and blood on the ground. He looked around in the almost dark and realized that there was nowhere to go.

His heart started thundering inside his chest, he ran upwards, because he could hear the waves, but he knew he was too upwards to be on a beach. He found himself at the edge of a rock, sticking out.

The sky was black, the moon didn’t appear, and the stars were hidden from the clouds, as if they didn’t want to see.

He turned backwards.

He didn’t hear the crack immediately.

The sound of the flute made it, so his short scream wasn’t heard.

What-

Ludwig drowned.

The flutist was too far up to see the rock, but he turned to the sound, not realizing immediately that something could have happened.

As it was already night, old man Alaric had done the immeasurable path upwards, but he only heard the splash of a rock and thought to himself, that Gilbert not only disturbed the dead with his flute, but he also threw rocks into the sea for fun!

How shameful!

And he continued on his way. And Gilbert continued looking for his brother in the brambles, and the sailing ship continued sailing and the seal smelt something strange.

The seal was still waiting for someone, so he was swimming, and he smelt blood.

The seal was goodhearted, so it went towards the scent to find out what happened. The seal saw a small, dead, pale body.

It screamed.

It curled itself around the body, it pulled it upwards towards the surface, so it could perhaps breathe, all the while making desperate sounds, that any animal stayed away from, not from fear, no.

From pity.

The seal pulled the body out to the shore of Kochyle, and it shed its skin and turned into a young boy ten years of age.

The young boy took the body into its arms, he stared into its glossy eyes, its seaweed ridden hair, and he wept. He screamed, he cried, he shed tears for him.

He sang a song of desperation, of death, of grieving, a song so horrible and terrible that anyone hearing it would want to stop being.

The seal sang, the seal grieved, the seal screeched, the seal wept.

The seal lamented.

The Seal’s Lament, which was translated into human speech by an old fisherman, knowledgeable into the watery tongue of the seals, said approximately this:

This boy was named Ludwig

The grandson of old man Alaric.

Seaweeds make up his death crown,

Seashells are his dowry...

And the old man still mourns

His age-old dead children.

As if the sufferings of this world

Would even ever end...

There's also on AO3 fic for it, if you prefer it there:

I hope you enjoyed, I tried to make the romance between Lud and Feli as pure as possible, so at the end the gut punch is even stronger

#Mythtalia March #Mythtalia March 2024 #fic #hetalia #aph hetalia #aph germany #aph gerita #aph italy #aph germania #aph prussia #fandom #fanfiction

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barbiegirldream · 1 year

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Hasan’s chat is like L Dream got ghosted while Hasan laments and whines that Ludwig keeps ghosting him. Oh my hwtogies

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archduchessofnowhere · 7 months

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Who are all of the children of Maximilian in Bavaria and Ludovika in Bavaria? I only know Sisi

Hello! Sorry it took me so long, I’ve been putting together this answer for a while. This is a somewhat basic introduction to the siblings, since I didn’t want this post to be even longer than already is.

Duke Maximilian and Duchess Ludovika had a total of ten children, five girls and five boys. Their second son, Wilhelm Karl, sadly died at a month and half old, and their fourth son, Maximilian, was stillborn. The surviving eight children were (by order of birth): Ludwig Wilhelm, Helene, Elisabeth, Karl Theodor, Marie, Mathilde, Sophie and Maximilian Emanuel.

The eldest, Ludwig Wilhelm, born in 1831, was always known as “Louis” in his family. In 1858 he gave up his position as the future head of the Dukes in Bavaria branch in order to marry his mistress, former actress Henriette Mendel. He seems to have been somewhat difficult, at least judging by something Elisabeth told to her lady-in-waiting Countess Mária Festetics: “It is a good thing that Henriette is his wife, for anybody else would long since have left him, and he is happy with her.” What does this exactly mean I have no idea. Louis and Henriette had two children, Marie (born a year before her parents marriage) and Karl, who died as a baby. As was customary for Wittelsbach princes he did a military career, and in 1866 fought in the Seven Weeks War. We don’t really have much more information about him; many accounts about the Duke and his family that come after the Mayerling affair, in which his daughter Marie Larisch played a key role as the go-between Crown Prince Rudolf and Mary Vetsera, are heavily affected by the negative reputation that had befallen over her. His relationship with his sister wasn’t unaffected by this either, and he and Elisabeth became distant, though Elisabeth’s daughter Marie Valerie still wrote affectionately of her “Aunt Henriette”, so it may have been more out of a sense of awkwardness than Louis being directly blamed for the affair. He went to Elisabeth’s funeral, visibly affected by his sister’s death, and was one of the men who took her coffin to the Capuchin Crypt. A year after his wife’s death in 1891 he married actress Antonie Barth, forty years his junior. This marriage ended up in a divorce in 1913, after she had a child whom Louis claimed wasn’t his (I found some gossip articles about this on newspapers but that’s a whole rabbit hole I haven’t gone down yet). Ludwig Wilhelm died in Munich 1920, aged eighty-nine-years-old.

Born in 1834, the third child an eldest daughter, Helene, nicknamed “Nené” and “Lenza”, is probably the most known of Sisi’s siblings, and also the most misrepresented. She has gone down in history for being the disciplined, exemplary daughter that was groomed for years to become empress only to have “her fiancé” stolen by her younger sister. Except that none of this is true. In her old age Ludovika often complained that Helene had been a troublesome child who had caused her a lot of grievances. And it’s unlikely that Helene had ever expected, let alone been prepared, to become empress years in advance: not only there had been serious attempts to get Princess Anna of Prussia’s hand for Franz Josef in 1852 (why would they have done this if Helene was supposedly waiting in the wings to marry him?), but also when Ludovika was told that the emperor wanted to marry Sisi she became very emotional “for in her great modesty she had always doubted that the Emperor would really think in one of her daughters”.

By late 1857 Ludovika lamented that her daughter had pretty much become a spinster. But in the beginning of 1858 Helene met Maximilian, Hereditary Prince of Thurn und Taxis, and soon after he proposed. This marriage wasn’t well received by King Maximilian II, since the Taxis were subjects of the Bavarian king and therefore not equal to marry a Wittelsbach, but eventually King Max gave them the all-clear and they married. Reportedly the marriage was happy, but her husband sadly died only ten years later of an illness, and she fell into a deep grief. When Helene’s father-in-law died in 1871 she became the de facto head of the house of Thurn und Taxis until her son Maximilian reached the majority. Helene was sadly to suffer two more big blows in her life: in 1881 her daughter Elisabeth died of childbirth complications aged only 20-years-old, and in 1885 her son Maximilian died of cardiac problems aged only 24-years-old. Helene’s last years are said to have been very sad, since she never recovered from the untimely deaths of her husband and children. She died in 1890 at the age of 56, likely of cancer. At her deathbed were her two surviving children, Louise and Albert, and her sister Elisabeth.

The fifth child and third son, Karl Theodor, called “Gackl” by his family, was Elisabeth’s favorite brother. He seems to have been a very charismatic man, since everyone that met him had nothing but good things to say about him. In 1865 he married his first cousin Princess Sophie of Saxony, and they had one daughter, Amalie. Sadly Sophie’s health was severely affected by childbirth, and died over a year later of influenza. Like his elder brother he also did a military career starting from a young age, and fougth in the Seven Weeks War. However, afterwards he left active service and went to the Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich, where he studied medicine. His studies were interrupted by the Franco-Prussian War, but he got his degree as a doctor in medicine, later specializing in ophtalmology. During this time Karl Theodor had remained a widower, but in 1874, seven years after his wife’s passing, he married Infanta Maria José of Portugal, daughter of the deposed King Miguel I of Portugal and seventeen years his junior. They had five children: Sophie, Elisabeth, Marie Gabrielle, Ludwig Wilhelm and Franz Josef. Gackl became a renowned oculist, and in 1895 he opened the Augenklinik Herzog Carl Theodor (Duke Carl Theodor Eye Clinic) in Munich, which exists to this day. He personally operated thousands of people, assisted by Maria José, and later also by his daughters. Karl Theodor died in 1909, a few weeks after his 70th birthday, from bronchitis.

While Helene is the most known of Elisabeth’s sister solely because everyone and their moms know the (incorrect) story of her being “rejected” by FJ, the sixth child and third daughter, Marie, is the most famous sister for her own merits. She was the last Queen of the Two Sicilies as the wife of King Francesco II, and has gone down in history for leading the resistance during the Siege of Gaeta, the last stand of the Bourbon dynasty in Naples. She was only nineteen when her husband finally surrounded, and lived in exile for the rest of her life. After ten years of marriage Marie and her husband had one child, Maria Cristina, who sadly passed away while still a baby. They tried to have more children, but all her pregnancies ended up in miscarriages. She spent the rest of her life traveling; when WWI broke she settled down in Munich, where she died aged 82 in 1925.

Marie has gotten an interesting reputation: she is either known for being the brave queen who stood up next to her troops until the end, or for being a haughty woman who deeply envied her imperial sister and lived full of resentment. The first is just one, although crucial, brief moment in her life; and the second is literally just what Mária Festetics, one of Elisabeth’s ladies-in-waiting, thought of her. Once I realized how little we actually knew about Marie, how much is just hearsay and speculation, she became fascinating to me, but sadly we still don’t have a good biography about her that uses primary sources instead of relying in gossipy second hand accounts.

Mathilde, called “Spatz” (Sparrow), is the sister we have the least information of. She and Marie were the closest of the sisters; they were always together, and would often even dress the same (as you can see in the Stieler portrait). In 1861 Mathilde married Prince Luigi, Count of Trani, half-brother of Marie’s husband, and joined her sister in Rome, were the Bourbons in exile had settled their court. The marriage turned out to be unhappy, since her husband was an alcoholic and cheated on her, though they did had one child: Maria Teresa, called “Mädi”, born in 1867. Mathilde and Luigi separated eventually, though she did went to his aid and nurse him when he was sick. But the person she dedicated her life was her daughter, who for many years suffered from poor health (likely sclerosis); Mathilde took care of Mädi until her death, aged only 42. She spent the last years of her life with her sister Marie, and died only months after her, in 1925.

The youngest daughter, Sophie, born in 1847, is probably the most “romantic” of the Wittelsbach sisters. Just like Helene she has gone down in history for being a “rejected bride”, though in her case, it’s actually true. She was briefly engaged to her cousin Ludwig II of Bavaria, and it was an absolute disaster: he had no interest in marriage (not really that surprising when you consider that he was gay) and often publicly snubbed Sophie; she in turn was absolutely miserable because she felt he was playing with her. Ludwig kept postponing the wedding until Sophie’s father, Duke Max, send him an ultimatum, to which the king responded by just canceling it. As if these months hadn’t been stressful enough for Sophie, during this time she also had an affair with Edgar Hanfstaengl, the son of the court photographer. I don’t really know much about this liaison, only that she was aided by two ladies-in-waiting in order to meet him in private and that some love letters she wrote to him have survived. But whatever the extent of her feelings, the relationship could never become serious, and one year later she married Prince Ferdinand of Orléans, Duke of Alençon, a grandson of King Louis Philippe I of the French. I don’t know if this marriage was ever a love match or if Sophie simply wanted to settle down for good after all her failed romantic experiences; whatever the case they did have two children, Louise and Emmanuel. The Orléans had been living in exile in England since the deposition of Louis Philippe, and only after the fall of the Second French Empire in 1872 were they allowed to return to France. This probably improved Sophie’s mood, since she had suffered from depression since her children’s birth, and the English weather didn’t make her feel better.

After the death of her former fiancé Ludwig II in 1886, Sophie fell ill and on advice of her brother Gackl she searched for a treatment in Munich under a Dr Glaser. But while he treated her she fell in love with her doctor, who was also married with children. This time Sophie didn’t want to give up her enamored, and did something unthinkable for a woman of her status in the 19th century: she sought for a divorce from Ferdinand. Sadly things didn’t work out for her, because her husband, on the advice of her brother Karl Theodor, retaliated by having Sophie interned in a mental clinic for “moral insanity”, where she suffered the appalling “treatments” for mental illnesses of the time. After seven months she was considered cured, and allowed to leave the institution. She never again tried to divorce.

Sophie dedicated the last years of her life to charity work. In 1897 she was one of the organizers of the Bazar de la Charité, an annual charity event held in Paris since 1885, and was in the place when an accident set it on fire, taking the lives of 126 victims. She was one of the victims of the fire, and although she had the chance to leave she refused she refused to abandon the Bazar until everyone else was out, guiding and helping people to find the exist until her last moments. She had been fifty-years-old.

Lastly the youngest child Maximilian Emanuel, nicknamed “Mapperl”, is the brother we know the least about. Born in 1849, he was only two years and a half younger than his sister Sophie, whom he was the closest to: they were often referred as “die Kleinen” (the little ones). As his eldest brothers he did a military career, and fought both in the Seven Weeks War (aged only sixteen!) and in the Franco-Prussian War. At Sophie’s wedding he met and fell for a cousin of the groom, Princess Amalie of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, which would have been great… if she hadn’t been already engaged to Prince Leopold of Bavaria. Here’s when things get a bit messy: according Briggitte Hamann, Elisabeth found out about the situation and decided to step in and free Mapperl’s beloved… by introducing her daughter Gisela to Leopold. Which is. Hmmm. A questionable thing to do. However, other authors claim that Elisabeth actually had nothing to do with that, specially considering that Mapperl’s wedding took place three years after Leopold and Gisela got engaged - if the goal was to make Amalie available, he definitely took his sweet time to make his move. One day I’ll look deep into it because I’m genuinely curious as to which is the truth; whatever the case, both couples had happy marriages, so good for them. Max Emanuel and Amalie had three sons: Siegfried, Christoph and Luitpold. Sadly Max Emanuel died quite unexpectedly in 1893 from an ulcer, aged only 43-years-old.

Again, this is only an introduction to the siblings, there’s far more information out there that I could possibly put in a single post. Thank you for your question! The Dukes and Duchesses in Bavaria are really interesting an I think they deserve the spotlight as much as their imperial sister.

#a lot of this i wrote from memory + copying my own previous posts + checking dates and names on wikipedia #so please forgive my lack of sources and sorry if there are mistakes!#house of wittelsbach #duke ludwig wilhelm in bavaria #helene in bavaria hereditary princess of thurn und taxis #karl theodor duke in bavaria #queen marie sophie of the two sicilies #mathilde in bavaria countess of trani #sophie in bavaria duchesse d'aleçon #duke maximilian emanuel in bavaria #asks

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fritzelbitz · 3 months

Text

As if a Part of Me

In life she was my comrade,

None better I have had.

The drum called us to fight,

She always on my right,

In step, through good and bad.

Movies were the best. Elster always enjoyed learning more about Gestalt culture, and the time spent with Ariane without a care in the world was lovely. Hugs and kisses were exchanged frequently, and laughter would echo across the bulkheads. Both fell asleep in each other's arms often, but it didn't matter, for they would always have another day to finish the film. Days, weeks, months, and years may pass, but the love they shared would never cool.

A bullet it flew towards us,

For her or meant for me?

Her life from mine it tore,

At my feet a piece of gore,

As if a part of me.

The Klaxon. The memory of the sound would forever chill Elster. The moment her world came crashing down. The moment her everything was handed a sentence of horrible death. Elster was determined to stay by her side until the end. The worst part was the initial recovery. The brief, teasing days of hope. This, like everything else, was smashed to pieces like a physical manifestation of her heart. The nightmare was only beginning however, and closure seemed an eternity away.

Her hand reached up to hold mine.

I must reload my gun.

"I cannot ease your pain,

In life eternal we’ll meet again,

And walk once more as one.”

The final cycle, the last time. The means were not important, the ends were. It was over, finally over. After all the suffering, pain, and yearning. In their final moments, the two held each other like the old days. Days that seemed fleeting in passing, but that they would always carry with them. As the world dissolved around them, Elster and Ariane had only eyes for each other. One last waltz. The two had been through hell, and no matter what waited for them now, it would be better. The stars looked kindly down as the world faded from view. Their eyes locked on each other, still slow dancing. When they fell, they landed in each other's arms.

“I love you Elster.”

“I love you Ariane.”

They held each other tightly until the end, and when it came, the burden of cycles, fighting, and pain was lifted. All of it was over, except their love, which still burned as bright as a thousand suns.

(Wrote this on a whim. These two, ugh my heart. The poem is a modified lament from the Napoleonic Wars originally written by Ludwig Uhland)

#signalis #fanfic #lament #poetry #sad poem

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goldammerchen · 1 year

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HRE = A child that couldn't grow, never got to be an adult. He probably died lamenting not being able to reach adulthood and be treated as such.

Germany = Grew too fast, barely had any childhood. A serious person, Ludwig probably saw his fast growth as a postive, brushing off older countries telling him to enjoy his boyhood while it lasted ("besides I'm not growing at the same rate as a human anyway")... Didn't start lamenting his short childhood until WWI.

#hws hre #hws holy roman empire #hws germany #hws #hetalia #sr. tnddr #hetalia hcs #hetalia headcanons #death mention #i am aiming for the heart #fuck i swear i wrote lamenting instead of regretting. something went wrong checking the grammar and spelling Dx #OH. WEll sdffsd

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Note

you mentioning breg and fasma during bregs heat as me wondering (*coughhopingcough) if you have written anything for that.

[I mean- I could, it'll be funny if nothing else!]

TW: Dubious consent at first.

Another day another dollar.

Fasma doesn't really like the things he has to do to make a living- Oh, who is he kidding? He fucking loves it. One day he's gonna die from this shit, but like Hell he cares.

He's glad Ludwig calmed down though, the guy deserves better, he's not scummy enough to steal and scam like Fasma. And he would rather beat someone senseless than actually kill them. Fasma knows he'll never see that pepper-shaped fucker with a gun in his hand. Good for him. Anyway-

He made extra today. Extra cash means an excuse to indulge, which has him sat at the same bar he's always half-melted over. Life is not good but it could be much worse, he thinks as he basically absorbs a whiskey bottle. Ohhh babyyy, here it comes. His head spins. Is he vibrating? Yeah, he might have overdone it. Which is saying something, for someone whose tiny plasma body is basically 80% alcohol these days.

There's a poke to his side. The small monster just groans. One poke becomes two, the three, Fasma only chuckles stupidly before his head is yanked up by one of his tines and he's slapped across the face. It felt soft, but he may just be too hamered to register the full brunt of the impact.

" You know, one of these days I'm just going to let the others eat you. " The bartender gargles. No, he's speaking fine, the alcohol's just floating around in him. Fasma rubs the sides of his head and groans again.

" Go home, you're sad and melting on my counter again. " The last part is more a sneer as Gallon scrapes the white off the wooden surface. He waits for Fasma to pick himself up, tilted to the side as he sways idly. A look of mild discomfort crosses the slime's features.

" Yer such a pain in the ass, why do I even keep comin' here? " The smaller monster grumbles, handing Gallon his membership card.

" My friend, I am unfortunately the only one that will put up with you. " Gallon mock-laments, quickly swiping the card in a nearby terminal and handing it back with a water bottle, tentacle making sure to press it against the other. " Drink. Are you going to waddle home on your own? "

" I ain't payin' fer this. " The other warns, taking a swig nonetheless. " Whadd'ye think I am? Some kinda damsel in distress? No god will ever let me die, Gallon. "

The bartender only snorts.

[...]

By the grace of certainly not anything benevolent, Fasma makes it home mostly in one piece. A little sloppy, but strung together. Victory.

He slams the door behind him in a slurred, drunken blur of movement and immediately tenses at the subsequent snarl that rings out. Someone's angry.

" Breg? " Where did the fucker go? " Pal? " Fuck, the whole house's a mess, what has this little shit been doing the whole day?

Fasma trudges into the living room, blinking at the mess of toppled over shelves and missing couch cushions, even the curtains were torn off! Some of his best grabs lying broken on the floor! In the back of his mind, he knows this is fucked up and something's very wrong. He knows he should just leave- But what if something happened to Breg? Sure, the guy's big and tougher than a fucking armored tank, but he's not invincible. Maybe someone finally figured out where he lives and decided to teach him a lesson, catching the breeder off-guard.

His sloppy footsteps carry him through the hallway, keys thrown at the floor. " 'Ey dickhead- Fuck's sake, Breg, where y- "

He bumps into something in the darkness of the living room. It's cold and smelly and has... Goosebumps? Oh. Oh, is that him? Fasma's about to open his mouth and berate the breeder when another fierce, guttural snarl cuts through the air, sending him all but backwards on his ass.

" B-Buddy? " The plasma monster scoots back, attempting to spot Breg amidst the darkness as he instinctively backtracks to the illuminated hallway.

Breg follows. From the shadows leading to the rest of the apartment emerges a towering, midnight black giant. Full, extended rows of teeth glistening with viscous, foam-like drool, tongue lolling to help the sweaty monster cool off while two fat, swollen cocks twitch and leak a considerable amount of slick to the floor. Something in the older monster withers and dies as he's forced to see Breg in a state of frenzied arousal. Dark eyes linger on his junk, reflexively. Huh, they don't call them breeders for nothing, the plasma monster supposes. Now is not the time for morbid curiosity however, because the gloved drunkard can't tell if he's being looked at by someone who's hungry or horny. Maybe both.

" H- Hey champ, uhhh- Yer not doin' so hot there, are ye? " Fasma tries, beyond uncomfortable and basically this close to shitting himself.

The breeder snorts, seemingly confused by the verbal chatter, mimicking the pitch with isolated vocals and chirps. Oh yeah, he's totally out of his fucking mind already... Now. Fasma knows that a very important survival rule entails not turning your back on a lion, or running from a bear. You don't run from predators unless you want to get chased. But what the fuck else is he supposed to do? Play sitting duck and possibly get eaten alive by this horny freak?! Yeah, no.

With all the grace of maimed roadkill, the plasma monster mimes taking a step towards Breg's left. Then bolts to the right. It disorients the breeder for half a second before Breg's hot on his trail. Fasma sprints aimlessly, sometimes even in circles, his small size being the only saving grace here, as the breeder nearly trips and fumbles trying to catch him. Arms extend, slapping everywhere in hopes of reaching a lightswitch. Sometimes they succeed, other times he just hurts himself. Adrenaline and alcohol make it hard to feel anything more than a light throb however.

Along this game of perverse cat and mouse, even more items are destroyed and a racket is audible to the neighbors as Fasma screams for dear mommy and Breg growls and hisses after him like a brainless animal. At some point, the gloved monster manages to run enough loops around Breg that the breeder's brain fails and he trips over a tilted coffee table, jaws snapping closed around his tongue and forcing a keening whine out as he tumbles to the ground with a small earthquake, coloration reverting to white.

Fasma doesn't have the time to feel sorry or worry about possible trips to an ER, his vision swims and sloshes when he hurriedly stuffs himself inside a kitchen cabinet. The world is spinning, his whole body feels like jelly- He's old and out of shape, God damn it! He can't be pulling shit like this anymore. He's not a twenty-something rapscallion!

Exhaustion steadily takes hold, the plasma monster's thought process slows to a grind and he leans back, just about ready to sleep everything off with no regard for his own safety- Until the cabinet door is ripped off its hinges.

To say Fasma made a little girl's shrill shriek is an understatement. He sounded more like a dying goose the moment a taloned hand yanked him out of his safe space by the neck.

Breg holds him like a squeaky toy. Fasma can see remnants of poorly cleaned blue blood cascading down the breeder's chin from when he apparently bit his own tongue, a deep frown on his deformed face. Yeah no, buddy over here doesn't look too happy.

" B-Breg? " The drunkard tries. " Pal, I'd really like it if ye didn' fuckin' kill me. " Excellent strategy.

The monster in rut, cares little for the meaning behind his prey's vocalizations, leans in to sniff at the creature he can't quite identify. Fasma stays stock still in the other's grasp, watching the gears slowly turn in that shiny hairless head. Threat...? No. Food...? Breg licks up the side of his entire body, rancid saliva-stinking breath nauseating him. No.

Fucktoy...?

The breeder squeezes his entire body. Once. Twice. That eyeless gaze switches between the plasma monster and his own body, particularly the lengths still bobbing in the air after all this time. Fasma's brought a little closer for clumsy evaluation. Alcohol or not, it takes very little for the apparent direction of this situation to click in the black-eyed monster's head.

" Oh no. No no no. Breg?! " Fasma nearly squeals once he's turned upside down. " Are ye fuckin' serious?! I'm more than twice yer age, ye fuckin' loser! " His legs are being spread, he can feel the other sniff and snort, looking for something. " Put me down! Lil' bastard, whaddye think yer- GHK-! "

Something decidedly humid pokes at his pucker. Fasma's entire body freezes in place as the action is repeated over and over, as his own client, the monster he took under his own wing, licks his ass. What the fuck is his life anymore? Fasma flusters, unsure how morally reprehensible this is, not even recalling the last time he got laid. That's no excuse to let Breg slobber on him, but it's also not like he can evade Breg in a rut. A flash of pain and pleasure blinds him the moment the breeder tires of gentleness and pierces his tongue deep into Fasma's ass. It's a mostly exploratory gesture, less concerned with providing pleasure than it is on studying the length of his inner walls and their stretching capacity.

" Hhg- Fuh- Fuckin' pervert! " The smaller one yelps and squirms like a worm on a hook.

Apparently, Breg likes what he finds. Because, with a nauseatingly gross slurp, that drooling appendage is zipped back into place and the plasma monster is lowered to a pulsing deep blue cock. The organ is flushed and almost painful looking in its state of constant arousal, Fasma eyes the ridges and curves of it and gulps, furiously blushing like a virgin. Breg's clumsy, jizz-soaked brain attempts to line Fasma with his girth. But it misses repeatedly.

Instead, the breeder's cock ends up poking and rubbing at a good portion of his hody, marking him with precum as it twitches, seeking more friction. Breg makes a frustrated growl before he finally manages to slot his tip against Fasma's sloppy and drooled hole.

" Lord help me. "

Hah, as if.

Numbed by alcohol and already stretched by the breeder's tongue, Fasma's easily impaled on Breg's dick. It's... An overwhelming sensation. One of the uh, features, of usually being less than half the size of your partners, is that penetration makes him feel like a sock. And honestly, Fasma doesn't even want to look down, because he knows Breg's hilted, and he knows that cock is pushing everything around. So he just groans, which very quickly turns into a sob of overstimulation, fat tears pooling in the corner of his rolling eyes as his hands shake in the breeder's hold and his legs jerk uselessly.

He's so glad he's a plasma monster. If he were some other small, much less flexible type of creature, he would have probably gotten ripped in half from that.

There's no energy in his brain left to form words with, just hideous little noises while the much larger monster hunches and pants in audible, monumental relief. Finally, he's found a barely suitable hole to breed. At first, it almost seems like Breg isn't going to move, shuddering in place while he gets used to the tightness of his new stress reliever. Fasma takes the small mercy to steady his breathing and sag in the other's tight hold, resigning himself to getting fucked by his giant client turned roommate.

There's already too much swimming in his head, he doesn't want to think about how awkward things will be after this. Hell, maybe if he drinks more he'll just mercifully forget Breg used him like a fleshlight. Yeah, let's hope for that.

All of a sudden, a switch must have flicked in the breeder's brain, because his body comes alive with motion and he spreads his legs, lifting Fasma, only to slam him onto his cock again so hard that the poor monster thinks he's going to spit his lungs out. Aside from jostling his brain a little, it takes a moment for Fasma to realize he's hard. It'd be difficult not to, with that beast of a cock brushing everywhere at once. He doesn't have enough breath to scream, but Breg is making more than enough noise for the two of them.

In seconds, the gloved monster is being rapidly fucked onto his rutting friend's member, barely able to see anything past Breg's frequently readjusting claws and the blur of movement. Fasma knows he's drooling, sobbing and moaning and he's pretty sure he came already, but everything's melting together, including himself. He doesn't know for how long this is going on and he can only hear splatters of wetness on the floor while Breg growls hard and starts to whimper, so very desperate to cum.

Eventually, more items are knocked out of the way as Breg sinks to his knees, both hands coiled so tight around Fasma's lithe body that he thinks he's going to pop like a balloon at any moment. His next thrusts are brutal enough to deform the plasma monster, a claw slipping into his mouth when he opens it to shriek in overstimulation. Fasma sputters out what might have been a "wait", hands trying to touch anywhere to grab the breeder's attention, interrupted by more savage pistons until- With a roar loud enough to wake the entire apartment complex, Breg finally climaxes.

It's obscene.

Fasma begins to panic as the throbbing loads apparently never cease, flooding him time and time again until the tiny monster's pretty sure his body is making emergency holes to void cum from. Even his mouth, God he can taste it everywhere, it's behind his eyes, it's in his fucking brain!

Breg pants and clips out moans, a lolling, stupid grin in his face as he impulsively jostles the plasma monster a couple more times to milk his orgasm. In the end, they're both sloppy and dazed, sharing a couple of relatively peaceful moments wherein Fasma slowly dislodges himself from the other's hardness. He collapses on the floor like wet flour and just lays there, ready to pass the fuck out, call it a day.

Unfortunately, there's no such mercy for the poor drunkard.

The breeder flips him around, takes one long look to evaluate his work- More than successful, Fasma's coated in his seed from top to bottom after all- And licks his teeth, yanking him into a tight grasp once again.

Fasma doesn't know whether to sob for mercy or curse the breeder into oblivion when the nasty fucker rubs his right cock on his flustered face, clearly promising the gloved monster that there's a lot more to come.

Why didn't he just stay at the bar?

#Bregory #Fasma oc #pinnie's art

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camthecatchameleon · 5 months

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Actually flabbergasted at the HLVRAI fandom right now. Everyone keeps talking about "the buildup with no payoff" bro what buildup.

I am not someone who follows creators closely, I just sorta sit back and if something new comes out I look at it- all we got about BBVRAI before it came out was a silent clip showing the reactor. (And apparently a twitter joke which I personally have not seen so I really can't talk about that.) There was no buildup about it being HL2VRAI. From what I can tell, and from what I know from my friend who watches RTVS, the only "buildup" for HL2VRAI came directly from the fans. Did y'all see something I didnt or what?

In any case. HLVRAI fandom, get your act together. Stop harassing the creators. It's okay to be upset and it's okay to have opinions, but it's not okay to be hateful because of it.

And if you aren't enjoying something, you should just leave, respectfully. Step away. I speak from experience when I say it works wonders.

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #ludwig's laments #i dont think i will ever understand this fandom #what the fuck guys #also gonna take the chance to add: saw someone else post abt this but hey can we not tag hlvrai as half life?#just like how sonic fandubs is not compliant to sonic canon hlvrai is not connected with half life #it is removed from the source material and we shouldn't bother the actual half life fans with it.#also why are we tagging bbvrai as hlvrai. same argument. we need to separate fandoms guys #thanks for coming to my ted talk

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blorbologist · 1 year

Text

Cat’s Cradle - Chapter 2?

Guess this is a thing now!

Part 1

Tuna doesn’t work.

It’s premium stuff - intended for Percy’s sandwich of the day, sacrificed instead on a paper plate and left ten feet from his crouched form. No amount of tsktsktsk or wafting the oils around seem to draw her attention - not in her usual feeding spot, or near any cranny Percy suspects she could wedge herself into.

He spots her, briefly. An hour in, a second from standing and texting Vex that he was on his way back inside.

She’s a brown and white blob on the other side of the road, peering at him from a rickety fence. Percy’s heart sinks - drivers inbound from the highway usually breeze through the stop, here, with poor visibility thanks to some wild hedges. It’s a dangerous crossing for a little cat.

Less so for him - he follows Curio as slowly as he dares, plate of tuna in hand.

As soon as he steps off the sidewalk she’s gone, leaping into the yard. Percy watches the space for a moment, breathing in cold air through his nose. It stings. He puts down the offering near where she had perched before turning back.

He’s not quite ready to trespass just yet.

Vex, it turns out, is more than happy to trespass, though she laments it would likely be useless.

“We need a trap for her,” she sighs. The forge has allowed her to shed her flannel, leaving her in a white tanktop.

It’s warm enough Percy can blame the redness of his cheeks on it as he sheds the chill moment by moment.

The kittens have begun to mewl. All five wiggle and wail - an improvement over how quiet they had been before, as far as Percy’s concerned.

He’s tried to avoid looking at them, truthfully. In glimpses he has seen them all to be dark-furred, but one that’s stark white.

(Five has been, in his mind, a number meant for them. It’s one-Julius, two-Vesper, three-four-Whitney-Oliver, five-Ludwig. It’s every open space when he says he has a sister and Cass notes she has a brother.)

One of the kittens practically yowls. It sounds a little too close to a baby’s cry for comfort.

“Could we use them as bait?” he asks. “Don’t most mammals come running if their young raise a ruckus?”

Vex hums, tilting her head. “Not a terrible idea - but we don’t have anything to catch her in. It’s too cold to keep them outside for that long,” she worries.

Movement from the slipper basket. Vex darts out just in time to catch one of the kittens, cresting the edge with another scream. “Got you!”

Wiggling to sit comfortably cross-legged, she brings it close to hold with both hands. Percy peers over her shoulder - it’s a dark blue-grey, the drying fuzz now sticking up in every direction. It can’t quite hold its head up, so much as shuffle it from side to side, sniffing.

It then -

“Is it trying to hiss at you?” Percy whispers. Indeed, the little mouth is open in a pink gape, puffing air at Vex’s hand.

Vex’s eyes flit to his. “So intimidating,” she whispers back. The kitten downright spits - the both snicker at the display.

“I know, dears,” she coos. “It’s so scary. It’s so very scary without your mom, huh?”

It mrr’s back - a sort of rumbling whimper as it noses at her fingers and the fabric of her top.

“What do we do?” Percy murmurs. “I could drive them to the shelter-”

“No,” Vex says sharply. She lowers her voice again. Percy is fairly sure kittens are deaf at this age - this one certainly did not react. “No - they don’t intake new animals on Sundays.”

Abruptly, a kitten is carefully slid into Percy’s lap. He blinks at it. He’s certain it would blink back if it were not blind. He directs the next few blinks at Vex, who is standing with the wince of one whose leg fell asleep.

“I’ll get some formula for these guys,” she says. “At least to keep them fed overnight - I doubt we’ll catch their mother before they’re really hungry.”

“I could-”

“Darling, you just froze your ass off for over an hour trying to get her.” Vex winks, and Percy decides he agrees with her assessment. “You warm up with the babies.”

Percy sighs indulgently. The kitten in his hands does its best to burrow into his sweater - it’s not quite soft so much as fluffy. A curious distinction.

“I should have a hundred in my wallet,” he calls as Vex gathers her things. “You’re not paying for this mess.”

Vex, lacing up her boots, shoots him a look. “Percival, formula is ten, twenty bucks. At most.”

He snorts. “So grab anything that catches your attention with the remainder. I trust you to spend it better than I could. Least I can give you for dropping everything to help.”

The kitten’s begun to try suckling on his thumb, which is - he isn’t sure how to feel about it. He does know how to feel about the tiny claws beginning to knead his hand, though. Which - ow, how can something less than a day old hurt?

“You certainly know how to treat a girl,” Vex teases.

She lingers a moment at the door, fussing with her gloves and scarf. “For what it’s worth, I would have helped you - you and the little darlings - without bribery, darling.”

Percy smiles. “I know.”

The kitten pauses when he shifts, to catch the moment she leaves. It resumes, then, with a little, little purr.

#cat's cradle au #critical role fic #critical role fanfiction #critical role #campaign 1 #perc'ahlia #percahlia #percy de rolo #percival de rolo

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echizen-division · 7 months

Text

“To play a wrong note is insignificant; to play without passion is inexcusable.”—Ludwig van Beethoven

Introduction 🖤

Nayomi Ise(異世ナヨミー )also known as Nevermore in rap battles, is a violinist, aspiring writer and the third member of Echizen Division’s Clockwork Lament. The daughter of the well known songstress Ageha, she was no different as with the violin. However, she gained quite the infamy to the high-class after her falling out with her mother at a soirée they were attending. She is currently aspiring to become an author instead after running from home.

It’s believed that not only did she join the DRB to support her friends but that she also joined for something relating to her father, who people thought died time ago.

Link to picrew used

Appearance

Nayomi is a young woman on her early-mid 20s with an androgynous look sometimes getting her mistaken for a guy. She has warm ivory skin and pistachio green eyes behind a pair of oval shaped glasses, the left eye having a single beauty mark below. Her strawberry blonde hair is cut down to her ears which is usually combed down in a clean look. Her ears are pierced, her lobes having a drop earring of a cat’s head and a plain black stud nearby it. Upon the back of her left hand is a tattoo of a clock with its hands on 1 o' clock.

She is usually wearing a white button up shirt, on top of that is a wine red vest which contain a rose gold pocketwatch inside of the right pocket and a black ribbon on her neck, bellow that, she wears black pants and black stiletto heels with red soles. Her nails are filed as to have a sharp look and it’s painted in red fading to black.

Name Meaning

Nayomi - variant of Naomi; pleasantness in Hebrew

Ise(異世) - Different world (literally just one character away from ‘isekai’)

Nicknames and Aliases

Nevermore - MC Name

Nacchan - Kohaku

Lady Yomi - Nishio

Nao-chan - Fusao

Nana - Kotori

echzn_nevermore - main PROFILE

“Runaway Cat”

“The Disgraced Musician”

“The Rose of Sharon”

Biographical Info

Gender - Female

Age - 24

Birthday - October 7

Star Sign - Libra

Ethnicity - American-Japanese

Hair Colour - Strawberry Blonde

Eye Colour - Pistachio Green

Height - 5’8” (5’11” in heels)

Markings - Clock tattoo at the back of her left hand

Piercings - Double lobe

Family -

Grandfather

Grandmother

Mother

Father

Elder half sister

Younger triplet siblings

Voice Claim - Amami Yurina (speaking); Ado(singing/rapping)

Fun Facts

Occupation - Violinist; aspiring author

Division - Echizen

Team - Clockwork Lament

Position - 3rd Member

Favourite Food - Grilled beef

Least Favourite Food - Foie gras, truffles, caviar

Likes - Her siblings, her father, cats, gothic literature

Dislikes - Her mother and grandparents, playing the violin, being unable to write anything, every second of being inside Aoyama

Image Color - Candy Red (#C61F2B)

Hypnosis Microphone

Nayomi’s Hypnosis Microphone takes the form of a brass candelabra handling two candles; the middle has a cross, where the mouthpiece is at, the two candles at the mic are lit (it doesn’t burn her, surprisingly).

Nayomi’s speakers take the form of a corner of a decrepit basement with brick walls— some of the bricks are replaced with speakers. The wall has a crevice revealing several things: a broken down violin, most likely smashed to the walls, a man with a striking resemblance to her father just barely peeking outside of the crack and a large black cat with its claws on top of his shoulders, the cat has a confused expression usually but when Nayomi gets to sing/rap, its face becomes extremely distorted, its fur becomes dishevelled, its green eyes widen as its pupils become slits and it opens its mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth and a speaker inside covered in foam and blood.

Her rap ability, SCRATCH THAT!, enables her to clear any status effect her teammates have, though she can’t use this on herself.

Nayomi’s rap themes centre around her comparing herself to a cat, in the sense that they are sly and sneaky, but that they are also just creatures that want to do as they please, just like her herself. She also rants about how as much as she wants to write, she doesn’t know what to write. She often switches between a soft voice and a harsh voice from time to time.

Just like the rest of her teammates, she references various literary pieces on her verses, she leans into gothic and romantic literature; it’s far rarer but she sometimes references dystopia fiction.

Personality

To the public, Nayomi appears to be a sweet, timid person. She seems quiet and polite and doesn’t like causing conflict. However, this is merely a front.

In private or with friends, she becomes a lot more crass and even quite vulgar, she doesn’t hesitate to speak whatever she thinks, no matter if it’d hurt the people around her, she is brutally honest and doesn’t hesitate to tear down people regardless of their status. She is impulsive and has a bit of the tendency to start fights too.

However, her bad mouth doesn’t mean she doesn’t care for the people around her, she cares a lot for her friends and siblings and it would be the end of the world for her if anything were to happen to them.

It comes off as a surprise to some, but she is very observant of her surroundings and usually uses that to investigate things around her, especially the DRB. (p.s. she has a sloppily managed cork board in her room with some of the teams)

Background

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Trivia

Her birthday is the death day of Edgar Allan Poe

Her half sister is part of a bandoru (band idol) unit

Her speaker is a reference to The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe, while her MC Name is a reference to his poem The Raven

As much as she hates the violin, she still plays it in gigs at restaurants for a living

She isn’t as active on PROFILE, see her online at fanfiction sites instead (wattpad doesn’t count)

She is American from her grandmother’s side and rumor has it that she descended from the Astors

She is a washboard.

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