Soooo⊠a good colleague of mine recommended that I publish my drawings. And since I have so many of them, I think I'll just share a few. Maybe that will help make Alexander von Humboldt a little better known :)
Him and his favorite monkey (the springing monkey)
And thats Alex on the Orinoco with many mosquitos :)
Yeahhhhhhh⊠I have more? But I have no idea if this will inspire anyone or anything.. it feels weird..
I really admire him a lot and hope that he gets more exposure and is celebrated more <3
Ich möchte noch einmal daran erinnern, dass dies das Happy End ist und das offizielle Ende fĂŒr alle, die nicht die traurige RealitĂ€t lesen wollen, was ich absolut verstehen kann. Ich hoffe, es gefĂ€llt euch!
Ja, ich weiĂ, es ist Donnerstag... Aber ich habe es jetzt zweimal geschafft, bereits Mittwoch hochzuladen, da ist es sicher zu verzeihen, dass ich es jetzt erst Donnerstag schaffe.
AuĂerdem habe ich noch ein kleines Geschenk von @poesia-storica fĂŒr euch (und mich):
Sie hat das extra als KapitelĂŒberschrift fĂŒr dieses Kapitel gemalt und ich finde es sehr sĂŒĂ und toll und ich hoffe, ihr auch. Und deshalb ohne noch weiter drumherum zu reden: Kapitel 28
Da in den Reblogs dieses Posts ganz oft davon gesprochen wird, dass diese Zeilen Fanfic-Potential haben, wĂŒrde ich dem gerne zustimmen. Und ich dachte mir, ich mache mal eben schamlose Eigenwerbung, denn ich habe exakt diese Zeilen bereits einmal in einer Fanfiktion verarbeitet.
Es ist diese hier:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093304
Oder auch: "Kiss, Marry, Kill - Ein Gedicht fĂŒr dich" falls der Link nicht funktionieren sollte.
Sie ist schon etwas Àlter und falls ihr nur den Fluff wollt, solltet ihr den letzten Teil der Fanfic einfach weglassen. Ihr merkt dann schon, was ich damit meine.
Eigentlich wollte ich auch nur zustimmen und sagen, diese Zeilen haben Fanfic-Potential und hatten mich damals, als ich sie gelesen habe, sofort inspiriert und ich dachte, ich kann ja nochmal Aufmerksamkeit auf meine alten Fanfiktions bringen, wenn das hier schon so auftaucht. Vielleicht gefÀllt es euch ja.
âwhen they found you, you were saying a catholic prayer. the hail maryâ and âhow did you survive it?â âi didnât.â and âeverything i did, right or wrong, i did for youâ all in one damn episode. do they want me dead
I've watched Good Omens season 3 yesterday. And everything I'm gonna say now is gonna be a spoiler, so beware.
I didn't like the ending. I didn't hate it. But it still left me sad and disappointed and grieving two characters that I never thought I'd have to grief while watching a show that I thought was supposed to be a comedy. A comedy dealing with heavy and serious topics, but nonetheless a comedy.
I just imagined them getting a different ending. I read a lot of posts that inspired me for a different ending. And I just want a different ending for them. And so I wrote one.
It's not perfect. I just wrote it down and haven't read it over again. But I found this quote down here. And I just had to get this out of my system. I hope some of you may like it.
"Remember that you can't save everyone."
"Remember that you have to try."
"Then this is your choice. Just this once, you can make it."
"Can we talk about it?"
"Of course. Take as long as you need and then tell me your decision."
There was a flash of light and suddenly they were alone. In the bookshop. The only thing that still existed in the whole universe. It was peaceful, quiet and for the first time in the last few days, it didn't feel like they had to chase somewhere. They didn't need to find someone or something. They didn't need to get somewhere. They needed to talk.
And neither of them wanted to start.
The silence grew louder and louder around them, until Aziraphale couldn't take it any longer and sighed. "So."
Crowley looked up, still leaning against the column in the middle of the room, still closed off from him, still with the sunglasses on his nose, not saying anything.
Aziraphale cleared his throat and tried to start again: "So. What do you want?"
Crowley hesitated. Didn't answer immediately. He just looked at Aziraphale and when he finally replied, his voice was terrifiyngly quiet, with a form of hesitation, Aziraphale had rarely heard of him in the last 6000 years.
"I don't know. I knew what I wanted a few years ago. I didn't get it. I know that I always just wanted to be able to ask questions. I wanted answers. I wanted to-" He broke off, looked back down and Aziraphale got a step closer to him, hesitating, not wanting to get too close, being scared that Crowley would step back again.
"Yes?"
"I didn't ever belong to heaven. I didnt ever belong to hell. But I was always forced to be one or the other. I couldn't even... Love."
Aziraphale let out a little gasp. It was not that he didn't already know that. It was more the word. Coming from Crowley. He couldn't answer and so Crowley went on.
"I'm a demon after all. I fell. I rebelled against God and so my life was bound to be eternal misery. Only it wasn't always miserable. And there was a point where I thought, it didn't have to be this way. But I was wrong."
Now, Aziraphale could just shake his head, taking another step closer to Crowley, desperately trying to stop him from talking. "No, no, you were not. Why do you say that? You aren't bound for eternal misery. That's not true."
"Really?" Now finally he looked up again, really at Aziraphale now, but his posture was still closed off. And there was this scathing sarcasm in his voice again, that send a knife through Aziraphale, because he was quite certain, that it was directed exactly at him. And still it was only there to mask the breaking of his voice. And this combination above all was what finally brought tears to Aziraphales eyes.
"Yes! I tried to save you, Crowley! I tried to make it right again! You were an angel once! You could've been one again! We could've been together! You want to change things? Then why didn't you come with me when I asked you?"
"Because it wouldn't have worked! It didn't! You couldn't change them! That's not part of the plan! i was always going to end this way! Can't you see that?"
"Then why did you help me now? Why did you come with me? Why did you even try again if it was all so pointless in the first place? Why are you here?" Aziraphale had gotten louder with every word and he felt himself shaking with every word. He was angry and desperate and so fucking tired. And Crowley had his damn sunglasses on. And Aziraphale had tried so hard to make everything right and he still stood here in the last place in the universe that still existed with the one being he had always wanted by his side more than anything and yet they were still miles apart.
Crowley didn't answer immediately and Aziraphale couldn't help the tears flowing down his face and he turned away, angrily trying to wipe them away, even if it probably didn't matter anymore.
"The world needed to be rescued. You said you needed help saving the world."
"But I thought it was pointless."
"I will always try. It's all that's left for me, you know? The world. The Bentley. This bookshop."
Aziraphale turned around again and saw that Crowley was now walking aorund to the bookshelfs, looking at them, like he always did. He didn't read, but he still knew every book there was in here. It had been his home as much as it had been Aziraphales home. It had always been theirs.
"So what? You did it even though you knew you were gonna fail? You tried to save the world even if you knew it was too late?"
"It is always too late. But Hope is a dreadful flaw for a demon." His voice was quiet and defeated and Aziraphale felt the knife inside him twist.
"It's not always too late." Aziraphale too now spoke quietly, still angry, still desperate, still broken, but he still took another step towards Crowley.
"But it is, isn't it? Too late to save the world. Too late to say the things that need to be said. Too late to make it right again. Too late for... Us."
"It doesn't have to be. You can make the decision now. The choice is yours. You can make the difference." Aziraphale took another step towards him and Crowley stood still, not coming towards him, but also not backing away.
"Can I? The world is ending. I can stop it. But does it matter? I didn't care for the world anymore in the last few years. It could have ended and I wouldn't have even looked up. It was all... pointless."
Aziraphales fingers trembled as he reached out to Crowley, carefully taking his sunglasses, taking them away. Crowley didn't stop him. Didn't flinch back. Didn't react at all. But Aziraphale had to look him in the eyes for what he was going to say next. And so he put the sunglasses away. On a little table beside them, looking at Crowley, at his glassy eyes full of tears. At his broken heart, his pain, and beneath it all, his hope, still clinging on.
And Aziraphales next words were just a whisper. "I'm sorry, Crowley."
Crowley didn't answer and Aziraphale reached out again, cupping his face in his hand. "I'm sorry that I left. I'm sorry that I left you alone. I'm sorry that I thought I had to go to, because I thought I could make things right again. I'm sorry, that in trying not to lose everything, I lost you."
Crowley tried to look away, to close his eyes, but Aziraphale held on firmly, forced him to look at him directly, because he wanted to be sure that Crowley understood him. Understood every word he was going to say and everything he couldn't right now.
"I love you, Crowley. And I hope that one day you can forgive me."
Crowley made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob, but Aziraphale saw the little smile at the corners of his mouth and for a short moment he allowed himself to smile too. Allowed himself to hope too.
And then Crowley nodded. And suddenly everything in Aziraphale loosened. And a real smile formed on his lips and the knife inside of him melted away and finally, finally, after all this years, he leaned forward. And this time the kiss was soft and slow and full of love. And Crowleys arms landed on Aziraphales back and Aziraphales hands in his hair.
They didn't hold it long. They didn't need to. They loved each other and that was enough.
But Aziraphales hands lingered in Crowleys hair and Crowleys hands lingered on his back and Aziraphale looked into his eyes and smiled. "I want to save the world, Crowley. I want to save humanity. That is why I did what I did. But I won't do it on the cost of you, not again."
Crowleys eyes were still glassy and he nodded. "I understand. I want to save them too. But I don't want to save them for God. Or for Heaven and Hell. I want them to have free will. To choose. To ask questions. Humans shouldn't be punished for being human." He hesitated for a moment, before he spoke again, a little bit quieter, but a lot mor sure than before. "I don't even know, if I want Heaven and Hell to exist."
He broke away from Aziraphale, clearly distraught and Aziraphale looked after him, definitely confused. "But that would mean..."
"Technically, Heaven and Hell don't exist right now. But if we reinstate a universe in which they never have existed... I mean, what would that mean for us? What would be the cost?"
Aziraphale furrowed his brows. "If there have never been angels and demons, than that would mean, that we..." He broke off and Crowley turned around back to him, his eyes glassy again and Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to get this expression off his face and get back the happy smile that was there mere moments ago.
But Crowley just shrugged. "I guess that is the decision. This bookshop for all of eternity. With empty books and blank pages. Or a different universe."
Aziraphale didn't immediately respond. He was still thinking. "Who made that rule?"
"What?"
"Who says that there are only those two options?"
"Well... That's God! That's Her Great Plan! That's the point of making us choose! So that we can see how hard this decision is or something!"
Aziraphales eyebrows shot up. "So we're still following Her Great Plan. We're still following the rules of Heaven and Hell. Even though they don't exist anymore?"
Now it was Crowley who furrowed his brows. "What?"
"You just said it yourself! Heaven and Hell don't exist anymore. Their rules don't apply to us anymore!"
"But Gods rules-"
"What rules? They aren't written down, right? They can't be. There is no more Book of Life. So the rules of the universe aren't written down anymore. So they don't apply anymore."
Now it was Crowley who hesitated for a moment, before answering. "Well, yeah, I guess."
"There is only one page that is still intact. Only one page of the Book of Life. This bookshop."
"...So?" Crowley looked utterly confused now and Aziraphales smile widened.
"So everything that is written on this page are the rules of the universe. And we have plenty of place to write something."
Aziraphale picked up a book with a wide grin and Crowleys eyes widened. "You don't mean..."
"Oh yes, I do."
"We can't do that. Can we do that?"
Aziraphale just shrugged and picked up a pen. "I don't see why not. We've been on this earth for 6000 years. We are the only ones that saw everything. From beginning to end. We can make our own universe, our own rules. We can change it, make a difference. A true difference."
He took a step towards Crowley, still holding the book and the pen, looking at him pleadingly, hopeful. This could work out if they worked together. If they were a team. He just needed Crowley to believe that they could do it this time. That they together could save the world for good.
And Crowley looked at him as if he was mad, but a small smile formed on his face and he took a step towards Aziraphale to take the book from him. He turned it around and opened it on the first page. "What do you say if we start with the wine?"
Look at Alex and Francois!!! And a shirtless Carlos! I love them so much!! Show them love!! Do it!!!
Thanks @poesia-storica! I love you!!!
(It's fanart for Gib den Sternen einen Namen by the way. If you want to check it out. I mean, it's my own fanfic, so I might be biased, but I like the fanfic)
IT'S FANART FOR MY FANFIC!! OH MY GOD!!! Sorry for the outburst, I'm just really happy and the fanart is really good, as you can see.
Es ist Vormittag. Es ist Mittwoch. Und hier kommt das neue Kapitel von Gib den Sternen einen Namen. (I can't believe I can say that. I'm so good at this!)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Anyway. Ich habe auch noch ein paar AnkĂŒndigungen zu dieser Fanfic zu machen. Erstens: Ich habe sie offiziell fertig geschrieben. Sie wird 30 Kapitel haben. Das heiĂt, wir sind dem Ende nahe und genau ĂŒber dieses Ende wollte ich euch noch informieren.
Ich war mir nÀmlich lange nicht sicher, ob ich ein Happy End schreiben will oder doch eher den tatsÀchlichen Ereignissen ihres Lebens folgen will. Also habe ich mich dazu entschieden, beides zu tun. Wie soll das gehen? Folgendes:
Ich wollte das nur jetzt schon einmal ankĂŒndigen, denn obwohl ich meinen Uploadplan weiterhin einhalten werde, sind es doch nur noch wenige Wochen bis dahin und ich wollte euch schon einmal vorwarnen, damit ihr euch mental darauf vorbereiten könnt.
Anyway, bis dahin ist es noch ein bisschen und ich höre jetzt mal auf zu reden und hoffe, euch gefÀllt das neueste Kapitel!
"âŠunleidlicher Schmerz ergriff mich, und da mich körperliche Leiden von jeglicher Gesellschaft trennten, so war ich in traurigster Einsamkeit befangen.
Meine TagebĂŒcher melden nichts von jener Zeit; die weiĂen BlĂ€tter deuten auf den hohlen Zustand, und was sonst an Nachrichten sich findet zeugt nur, dass ich den laufenden GeschĂ€ften ohne weiteren Anteil zur Seite ging, und mich von ihnen leiten lieĂ, anstatt sie zu leiten."
Goethe ĂŒber die Zeit nach Schillers Tod, Tag- und Jahreshefte 1805
â
"Seit der Zeit dass ich Ihnen nicht geschrieben habe, sind mir wenig gute Tage geworden. Ich dachte mich selbst zu verlieren, und verliere nun einen Freund und in demselben die HĂ€lfte meines Daseins."
Goethe an Zelter, nach Schillers Tod im Mai, 01.06.1805
â
"Ich kann, ich kann den Menschen nicht vergessen!"
Goethe ĂŒber Schiller, zur Schauspielerin Amalie Wolff bei der Probe des Epilogs zu Schillers Glocke, den Goethe zu dessen Andenken gedichtet hatte und woraufhin er um eine Pause bat, um sich zu erholen, Weimarer Sonntagsblatt 1857
â
"Man hat mich vielfĂ€ltig getadelt, dass ich nicht auf unserm Theater, wie es andernwĂ€rts geschah, eine Totenfeier [fĂŒr Schiller] veranstaltete. Wie konnte ich das? Ich war vernichtet!"
Goethe in einem GesprÀch mit Carl Friedrich Anton von Conta im Mai 1820
â
"âŠund wenn ich jetzt ins Theater komme und sehâ nach seinem Platz, und muss es glauben, dass er in dieser Welt nicht mehr da ist, dass diese Augen mich nicht mehr suchen, dann verdrieĂt mich das Leben, und ich möchte auch lieber nicht mehr da sein."
Goethe ĂŒber Schiller, in einem GesprĂ€ch mit Bettine Brentano, 1806
â
"Je mehr Goethe ĂŒber sein Leben nachdenkt, je mehr fĂŒhlt er, wie ihm Schiller niemand ersetzen kann. Vorigen Winter, wo wir in seiner Loge mehrere GesprĂ€che ĂŒber die Kunst und Geschmack hatten, sagte er so schmerzlich, wie er jetzt so allein in der Welt stehe!"
Charlotte Schiller an Gottfried Körner, 1810
â
"Ich brachte dann Schillers âDreiĂigjĂ€hrigen Kriegâ und empfahl mich wieder.
Als ich abends zu Goethe kam, bemerkte ich, dass ihm [TrĂ€nen] ĂŒber die Wangen herabrollten. Ich fragte erstaunt: »Exzellenz, was ist Ihnen geschehen?«
»Nichts, Freundchen«, erwiderte er, »ich bedaure nur, dass ich mit einem solchen Manne, der so etwas schreiben konnte, einige Zeit im MissverstĂ€ndnisse leben konnte. Schiller wohnte drei HĂ€user von mir, und wir besuchten uns nicht, weil ich, von Italien zurĂŒckkommend, vorwĂ€rtsgedrungen war und die durch Schiller veranlassten RĂ€ubergeschichten nicht vertragen konnte.«"
Goethe ĂŒber die Zeit vor seiner Freundschaft mit Schiller, Joseph Sebastian GrĂŒner, 1822
â
"âŠmein Vater ist seit gestern ĂŒber das Bevorstehende so ergriffen, dass ich fĂŒr seine Gesundheit fĂŒrchtete. Heute frĂŒh 6 Uhr lieĂ er mich kommen, um mir mit TrĂ€nen zu eröffnen, dass es ihm unmöglich sei, dem heutigen feierlichen Akte selbst beizuwohnen."
Goethes Sohn August an Schillers Sohn Ernst, 17.09.1826, wegen der Feierlichkeiten zur Niederlegung von Schillers SchÀdel in der Weimarer Bibliothek; Goethe sollte eine Rede halten, August vertrat ihn dann:
â
"âŠdoch am heutigen morgen wurden in ihm alle die GefĂŒhle mĂ€chtig rege, welche jene Vergangenheit vorĂŒberfĂŒhrten, wo er mit seinem geliebten, unvergesslichen Freunde Friedrich von Schiller die schönsten Tage verlebt, auch manche Trauer erduldet hatte, âeinem Freunde und Zeitgenossen, dessen frĂŒher Tod einen Riss in das Leben meines Vaters brachte, welchen weder Zeit noch Mitwelt zu heilen im Stande war."
August von Goethe, Rede bei Niederlegung von Schillers SchĂ€del auf der Bibliothek in Weimar am 17. September 1826, welche August aus obigen GrĂŒnden Stellvertretend fĂŒr seinen Vater halten musste.
