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@wiltherie
⊱ WILTHERIE ⋮ a private and highly selective multimuse writing blog featuring muses from an array of various media including literature, television, film, folklore and theatre. established 2016. explored by dina, twenty four, cest timezone. low to medium activity. mature and dark themes present, minors dni.
⊰ 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘥. ⋮ 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵. ⋮ 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴. ⋮ 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨.
⋄ ⋮ ⊱ voidbeings, luca ramirez.
arms are held out like a barrier, an iron fence preventing her from running in the opposite direction, but he doesn’t touch her. is careful not to. she’s already frightened enough as it is.
❛❛ brianna ! ❜❜ rarely does the ex - soldier raise his voice, however it could be what finally gets through to her. ❛❛ we can’t go back ! they’re gone. I’m so sorry, they’re gone. please, calm down. there’s nothing we can do. i’m sorry ! ❜❜ they’re fighting against an enemy that won’t allow them to win and the only thing they can possibly do now is run. sometimes running is what keeps them alive and he’s not about to lose her, too. the other two traveling with them – it’s too late. dead already, even if they’re still screaming in the distance. she’s all that matters now, the only one left. he won’t let her be the next victim. no more blood on his hands.
❛❛ bree, please. you have to let them go or we’ll be next. i ain’t leaving you. come on, kid. it’s alright. it’s alright. ❜❜
there was a litany of sounds spilling from her mouth; shouts and cries, names repeated again and again ( names whose faces no longer appear smiling in her mind’s eye, but struck with fear, wide - eyed and horrified, deafening screams falling from mouths left ajar. ) but she heard none of it. there was only silence until, cutting through the static, her name ─ a desperate call, summoning her back to reality. there was nothing to be done, nothing they could do but march on.
with a sniff, bree nodded & wiped her tears with the back of her hand ( she can’t remember when the panic shifted into grief, can’t recall the feeling of water on her cheeks. perhaps she’s more exhausted than she thought. ) the other gripping the rifle slung across her back tight. ❝ sorry, sorry. yeah, you’re right. i’m sorry, i . . . i’m fine. ❞ she tore her gaze, still blurred by the tears spilled and unspilled, from the sight behind them & tuned out the sounds, instead allowing all her focus to center around luca.
❝ i keep thinking i’ve finally gotten used to it, but then i never am. ❞ a habit picked up after her first encounter with the diseased, bree scanned his figure for scabs and blood, any sign he might have been hurt in the scuffle. fear for her own safety had become a constant companion since the outbreak, but more intense than that was the fear of losing him, thrumming in her heart, flowing in her bloodstream ─ she couldn’t bear the thought of facing the next sunrise without him there, a steady, silent warmth by her side. ❝ are you okay? ❞
⋄ ⋮ ⊱ voidbeings, yelena belova.
pistol in hand, yelena knows what she’s suggesting is off - course from the directive … but she’s never been one to follow the rules. obeying mindlessly was never fulfilling ( especially when one didn’t have a choice ), and now that she doesn’t have to — well, she rarely does. it makes her unpredictable, but her skillset is hard to match and the little, pale spider gets the job done.
❛❛ sometimes, the only way to find out where you fit in is to step out of the routine. ❜❜ sort of vague, but daisy probably understands what she means. yelena winks at her. ❛❛ ready to cause some trouble? ❜❜
did the fact that she felt most alive in the throes of death, her feet planted in the midst of a bloody battlefield, make her a bad person? perhaps in some people’s eyes. but then daisy had never considered herself much of a heroine anyway, and her hands were already stained red with the blood she carelessly spilled. ( in truth, she didn’t know any better, couldn’t allow herself to know any better. after everything she’d done, this was what quake deserved ─ a never - ending fight. ) ❝ now you’re speaking my language. ❞ a grin flitted across her face, a spark of excitement set off in her dark eyes. in the distance a gun went off & the bullet ricocheted, though it lured no reaction from daisy, who had by known grown accustomed enough to the sound to fall asleep to it. ❝ what do you have in mind? ❞
@pragerstrasse: there’s still a thread that runs from your body to mine. › after laughter lyric prompts, accepting.
if the world is a simulation, déjà vu is a glitch in the matrix. he thought of his martha, standing beneath a bridge in a forest much like this one & yet nothing alike it at all. had she known? ( i think i'm having deja vu. the light, the forest. as if all of this has already happened before. ) had she known he was tied to this other her? that one day her death, her blood spilling across his shaking hands, would be glue that attached him to the martha of this world? the bond between them ─ red, like her blood. red, like his yet unspilled blood. red, like ariadne’s thread ─ was not a new thing born as their realities crashed into each other on that fateful day in his childhood home. it was as archaistic and as adolescent as they were, bursting into existence as their first cries of pain filled the deafening silence of their mirrored homes. ❝ i know, ❞ said jonas at last, his voice little more than a whisper. ❝ i think i felt you sometimes, when i was younger. ❞ the final bridge to his old life was set alight with his words & the sizzling embers from the fire burned him from the inside out. ignoring it, perhaps even allowing it, he turned to look at martha, the light from a street lamp on the bridge above illuminating her profile. ❝ like a tickle at the back of my mind, as if you were saying hello. ❞
@pragerstrasse • i had a butcher’s heart and no one thought they knew me. › after laughter lyric prompts, accepting.
❝ a butcher’s heart ... ❞ katherine echoed with a laugh, though the sound bore none of the teasing edge they so often wielded against each other, their weapons of choice in a play - pretend war fought on the streets of their borough. instead it was warm, tender, loving even. jack had done what few other’s had done before him ─ burrowed his way into the depths of her heart, broken through the barriers of faux steel & ice, the pretend coldness she’d cloaked herself in since her teenaged years. her hand raised on its own volition ( as her heart always took precedence over her mind when it came to the newsboy artisté ) and swept the hair hanging over his forehead away, nimble fingers brushing through locks caked in dried paint, the same colours splattered across his hands. ❝ well, you’re no stranger to me anymore, mr. kelly. ❞ her own heart tightened, the warmth that bloomed from her chest reaching to the very tips of her fingers & toes, spreading across her cheeks under the guise of pink blush. ❝ now get a move on, or we’ll be late to medda’s. ❞
( * &. ━ PARAMORE AFTER LAUGHTER LYRIC STARTERS )
HARD TIMES.
‘ all i want is to wake up fine. ’ ‘ tell me that i’m alright. ’ ‘ tell me that i’m alright, that i ain’t gonna die. ’ ‘ you can tell me when it’s alright for me to come out. ’ ‘ gonna make you wonder why you even try. ’ ‘ gonna take you down and laugh when you cry. ’ ‘ i still don’t know how i even survive. ’ ‘ i gotta get to rock bottom. ’ ‘ you hit me with lightning! ’
ROSE-COLORED BOY.
‘ just hang with me and my weather. ’ ‘ i hear you making all that noise about the world you want to see. ’ ‘ i’m so annoyed. ’ ‘ i’m so annoyed cause i just killed off what was left of the optimist in me. ’ ‘ hearts are breaking, wars are raging on. ’ ‘ you got me nervous. ’ ‘ i’m right at the end of my rope. ’ ‘ don’t make me laugh, i’ll choke. ’ ‘ just let me cry a little bit longer. ’ ‘ i ain’t gonna smile if i don’t want to. ’ ‘ hey man, we all can’t be like you. ’ ‘ i want you to stop insisting that i’m not a lost cause. ’ ‘ really all i’ve got is just to say pissed off, if that’s alright by you. ’ ‘ leave me here a little bit longer. ’ ‘ i don’t want anybody seeing me cry now. ’
TOLD YOU SO.
‘ for all i know the best is over and the worst is yet to come. ’ ‘ is it enough to keep hoping when the rest have given up? ’ ‘ i hate to say i told you so. ’ ‘ i hate to say i told you so, but they love to say they told me so. ’ ‘ i know you like when i admit that i was wrong and you were right. ’ ‘ at least i try to keep my cool when i’m thrown into a fire. ’
FORGIVENESS.
‘ you hurt me bad this time. ’ ‘ i cried until i couldn’t cry. ’ ‘ i don’t pick up when you call ‘cause your voice is a gun. ’ ‘ your voice is like a gun, every word is a bullet hole shot in the sun. ’ ‘ you want forgiveness, but i just can’t do it yet. ’ ‘ there’s still a thread that runs from your body to mine. ’ ‘ it could take me all your life to learn to love how i thought i could love someone. ’ ‘ if it’s all up to us, we might as well give up. ’ ‘ don’t you go and get it twisted. ’ ‘ forgiving is not forgetting.. ’ ‘ i can barely hang onto myself. ’
FAKE HAPPY.
‘ i love making you believe what you get is what you see. ’ ‘ i’m so fake happy. ’ ‘ i feel so fake happy. ’ ‘ i bet everybody here is just as insincere. we’re all so fake happy. ’ ‘ i’ve been doing a good job of making them think i’m quite alright, better hope i don’t blink. ’ ‘ if i smile with my teeth, bet you’ll believe me. ’ ‘ please don’t ask me how i’ve been, don’t make me play pretend. ’ ‘ i bet everybody here is take happy too. ’ ‘ you think i look alright with these mascara tears? ’ ‘ i know i said that i was doing good and that i’m happy now. should’ve known when things were going good that’s when i’d get knocked down. ’ ‘ should’ve known when things were going good that’s when i’d get knocked down. ’
26.
‘ man, you really know how to get someone down. ’ ‘ everything was fine until you came around. ’ ‘ after all, wasn’t i the one who said to keep your feet on the ground? ’ ‘ hold onto hope if you got it. ’ ‘ hold onto hope if you got it. don’t let it go for nobody. ’ ‘ i’m hoping someday maybe i’ll just float away and i’ll forget every cynical thing you say. ’ ‘ when are you gonna hear me out? ’ ‘ reality will break your heart. ’ ‘ survival will not be the hardest part. ’ ‘ so let it break your heart. ’
POOL.
‘ as if the first cut wasn’t deep enough, i dove in again cause i’m not giving up. ’ ‘ could’ve got the same rush from any lover’s touch, but why get used to something new. ’ ‘ no one breaks my heart like you. ’ ‘ when you kiss me i wish we could see what happens next. ’ ‘ i doubt you will come through. ’ ‘ i’m giving up. ’ ‘ i wonder is it better to get it over with? ’ ‘ the illusion can shatter before we begin. ’ ‘ if you’re really sorry, happy second chance. ’ ‘ i think i could forgive. ’
GRUDGES.
‘ strange how we found ourselves exactly where we left off. ’ ‘ i know you’re shaking my hand like it is the first time. ’ ‘ are we alright? ’ ‘ are you recounting all my faults? ’ ‘ are you recounting all my faults? are you racking your brain just to find them all? ’ ‘ could it be that i’ve changed or did you? ’ ‘ stop asking why we had to waste so much time. ’ ‘ stop asking why we had to waste so much time. we just pick up and start again cause we can’t keep holding onto grudges. ’ ‘ we can’t keep holding onto grudges. ’ ‘ time is a bastard. ’ ‘ aren’t we so brave to give up the fight and let years go by without us? ’ ‘ now i feel you by my side and i don’t even care if it’s been awhile. ’ ‘ i can feel that we’ve changed and we’re better this way. ’ ‘ if you wanna call me up or come over, come on, we’ll laugh till we cry like we did when we were kids. ’ ‘ why did it take us so long to just let it go? ’ ‘ why did it take us so long to stop holding on? ’
CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE.
‘ i can’t think of getting old. ’ ‘ i can’t think of getting old. it only makes me wanna die. ’ ‘ i can’t think of who i was cause it just makes me want to cry. ’ ‘ i try to keep going, but it’s not that simple. ’ ‘ gotta keep going or they’ll call me a quitter. ’ ‘ nostalgia’s cool, but it won’t help you now. ’ ‘ i don’t need no help. ’ ‘ i can sabotage me by myself. ’ ‘ i don’t need no help. i can sabotage me by myself. ’
IDLE WORSHIP.
‘ don’t hold your breath. ’ ‘ i never said i’d save you, honey. ’ ‘ i don’t want your money. ’ ‘ if i was you i’d run from me or rip me open. ’ ‘ you’re not the only one who’s hopeless. ’ ‘ be sure to put your faith in something else. ’ ‘ be sure to put your faith in someone else, i’m just a girl. ’ ‘ you’re not as alone as you feel. ’ ‘ we all got problems, don’t we? ’ ‘ we all need heroes, don’t we? ’ ‘ we all need heroes, don’t we? rest assured there’s not a single person here who’s worthy. ’ ‘ don’t let me let you down. ’ ‘ hey baby, i’m not your superhuman and if that’s what you want, i hate to let you down. ’ ‘ i hate to let you down. ’ ‘ i’m gonna be the one to let you down. ’ ‘ it’s such a long and awful lonely fall down from this pedestal that you keep putting me on. ’ ‘ what if i fall on my face? ’ ‘ what if i make a mistake? ’ ‘ if it’s okay, a little grace would be appreciated. ’ ‘ remember how we used to like ourselves? ’ ‘ i know that you’re afraid to let all the light escape you, but we could let the light illuminate these hopeless places. ’ ‘ i ain’t your hero. ’ ‘ you’re wasting all your faith in me. ’ ‘ i ain’t your hero. you’re wasting all your faith in me. ’
NO FRIEND.
‘ i found these old letters from years ago. ’ ‘ throw your pedestal of stone in the forgetful sea as protection from the paper-thin perfection you project on me. ’ ‘ you’ll say that’s what i get when i let ambition win again. ’ ‘ i’d hate to let you down. ’ ‘ i’d hate to let you down, so i’ll let the waters rise and drown my dull reflection in the naive expectation in your eyes. ’ ‘ i had a butcher’s heart. ’ ‘ i had a butcher’s heart and no one thought they knew me. ’ ‘ i’m no savior of yours. ’ ‘ you’re no friend of mine. ’ ‘ i’m no savior of yours and you’re no friend of mine. ’ ‘ please let me know if there’s more i can give you. ’
TELL ME HOW.
‘ i can’t call you a stranger, but i can’t call you. ’ ‘ i know you think i erased you. ’ ‘ you may hate me, but i can’t hate you. ’ ‘ i won’t replace you. ’ ‘ you may hate me, but i can’t hate you and i won’t replace you. ’ ‘ tell me how to feel about you now. ’ ‘ do i suffocate or let go? ’ ‘ think i’m tired of getting over it. ’ ‘ i’m getting sick of new beginnings. ’ ‘ i’m getting sick of new beginnings and always coming to your defenses. ’ ‘ i guess it’s good to get it off my chest. ’ ‘ i guess it’s good to get it off my chest. i guess i can’t believe i haven’t yet. ’ ‘ you know i got my own convictions, but they’re stronger than any addiction. ’ ‘ keep me up with your silence. ’ ‘ take me down with your quiet. ’ ‘ of all the weapons you fight with, your silence is the most violent. ’ ‘ you don’t have to tell me if you ever think of me. ’ ‘ i know you see me dancing wildly in the fog of your memory. ’ ‘ you don’t have to tell me. ’ ‘ i can still believe. ’
VICTORIA PEDRETTI as LOVE QUINN in the YOU S3 trailer
been thinking about katherine a lot lately and she definitely plays tennis with her dad every tuesday and golf with with her mom every other thursday
rubyfall ❈ morozko.
YOU WILL BE MY UNDOING / YOU WILL TURN ME TO RAIN . he will warm beneath her touch , allow her to make a human out of mim though all the years he carries upon my shoulders protest . ❛ i have collected many regrets in my long life … you are not one of them . ❜in the midnight wood there is an all encompassing quiet like the silence of dead winter . there is no sound only the weight of his glance and her , the impossible girl , thrumming with promise . ❛ there is little i would not do for you . ❜
@wiltherie… THINK OF ME IN THE THAW ( sc. )
❝ AND I AM YOUNG & STILL HAVE MANY YEARS AHEAD OF ME TO COLLECT REGRETS. still i doubt you will become one of them ─ so long as you continue tempting me with strawberries, snowdrops & journeys to all the edges of the world, gosudar. ❞ the forest was alive with his presence, and as an extension of the chyerti, the trees, the river & the moss that covered the stones at its bank, vasya transformed a little every time he came riding through midnight on his white mare. her cheeks flushed in a permanent state of red, her viridian gaze glazed over with mirth. ❝ you rode to muscovy in summer with me ... believe me when i say i know. ❞
Brie Larson as Mason Weaver in Kong: Skull Island (2017) dir. Jordan Vogt-Roberts
theystars ❈ olive magadora.
a fake smile appears as weaver steps over the water and onto her vessel. she guesses she’s off to argentina with a guest !
❛❛ make yourself at home. extra bedroom is on the port side, there’s enough space for your stuff in there. ❜❜ finally, she casts off. foot pushes the hull far enough away from the dock that it won’t scratch the paint job as the engines start to propel them slowly out of the marina. the hunter leaves mason to her own devices, heading upstairs to the helm. ten minutes tick - tock by, they’re out of the marina and headed towards open waters. with a course charted in, olive sets the yacht to autopilot and climbs back down the stairs to the interior once more. she calls out, unbothered to try to find her unwanted guest, and grabs a snack from one of the cabinets.
❛❛ didn’t catch your name. i’m olive, by the way. i hope you brought good hiking boots because in a few days i’m afraid we have quite the trek ahead of us. lots of walking. i have extra bug spray, though … enough to go around. we’re gonna need it. ❜❜
OLIVE’S YACHT WAS NEAR LUXURIOUS COMPARED TO the travel and sleeping arrangements weaver had gotten used to ─ after sharing a bathroom with approximately two dozen g.i. joe’s, she would manage just fine with a cramped cabin. mason dumped her two bags on the bed & flicked through her hastily packed belongings to find a new roll of film, which was then popped in her trusted leica. at the sound of olive’s voice, she stepped out of her cabin, shutting the door behind her. almost as if on instinct her hands raised the camera to her eye & without bothering to ask, she snapped a photo of the other woman as she fiddled with a snack in her hands. she must have been aware of what allowing a photographer to tag along would entail. ❝ nice to officially meet you, olive. my name is mason weaver, but you can call me whatever you want ─ i’m not very picky. ❞ she shrugged, leaning against the door behind her. at home she had always been mason, with the boys in vietnam she was weaver, perhaps here she could be something in between, something truly her. ❝ my boots are solid, but as for the bug spray, i’d happily take a can off your hands. ❞ here a bashful grin tugged at her mouth. weaver’s main missile had been getting on olive’s boat, & so all other preparations had fallen behind on her list of priorities. ❝ you seem very prepared for our adventure. that mean you’ve done this sort of thing before? ❞
ladies and gentlemen... her
pragerstrasse ❈ marianne sheridan.
@wiltherie said : it really does hurt when you love someone . | accepting .
sometimes , he could lay himself bare like ice melting to reveal clear water . it would always startle her , to find her own vulnerability mirrored back to her by this face that she used to think was impenetrable . connell used to be a closed book for her , unsure what he would think or say or feel , but with time he has become to claim the title of her favourite book - she could read through the pages of him for hours and not get tired , revel in every glimpse and every word he allowed her , enshrine them in her mind into a lifeline of sorts between the awfulness of her life before him and the untethered state of her life without him . both function as bleak purgatories she tried to distract herself from , but nothing ever matched his presence , the remedy of being with him . “ are you hurting , would you say? ” she asks , over the phone because he is in new york and she is here , in ireland , in europe . the absence of him is a phantom pain of a companion . “ don’t hurt too badly , connell , okay? i know you can’t promise it , but i wouldn’t want that for you. ” it goes without saying , the love they have for each other .
❝ A LITTLE, ❞ he said, and his voice came out a lot steadier than he feared it would. good, some malevolent part of his mind uttered, you can hide it. then, the benevolent section of his brain awoke, and its reply ricocheted off the walls of his skull: you don’t have to. ❝ a lot, on other days. ❞ in the absence of an immediate reply, connell wondered if what he could hear was an intake of her breath, or the beating of her heart. perhaps it was neither & it was only him reading her mind, her body, picking up on things others would miss even when he was thousands of miles apart. there was no limit to their connection. neither distance, time, or space could sever the bond between them, so unyieldingly tied around their hearts. ❝ but this helps. hearing your voice. ❞ he clutched the phone tighter, pressed it closer to his ear, even though he could already feel the broken edge of his phone case press uncomfortably into the skin of his cheek, as if it would close the distance & bridge the gap between them. if only he could reach through the phone, twirl a strand of her dark hair around his finger, grasp her hand in his & feel the beating of her heart beneath his ear. ❝ maybe ... i don’t know, maybe i’m asking too much here, but maybe you’d want to come visit sometime? ❞ what went unsaid was the simple word soon, but he knew marianne could hear it in the uncertainty in his tone, the intake of breath at the end of his sentence. he tried not to allow it to bloom, but in his chest one could find embers of hope.
hello friends! long time, no see. hope you’re all doing well! you can all consider this a starter / plotting call, so press the heart & i’ll write you something or approach you for some chats.
“Demons,” said Konstantin, panting, A cold sweat broke over his brow.
“Yes,” said Vasya, and she smiled, the devil’s own child. The dark figure beside her smiled, too, a slow skull’s grin.
And then they were gone, silently as they had come.
— The Bear and the Nightingale
pragerstrasse ❈ marianne sheridan.
it is like a current - he rolls in and out of her life , but every time he manages to do what the rest around her never do : he pulls her along his tow , propels her into a trajectory that makes her forget the depths of the stagnation she would otherwise be stuck in even exist . somehow , he has spun himself into one of ( if not the , if not the only ) the most important parts of her life . no , she feels it deep in her marrow , in her lungs . she would not say no to him , wait for him to choose first . “ i don’t feel like i have to , ” she says , thinking about the idea of a choice again . of never having it , nobody ever asking her . of having it now . connell is giving it to her now . “ i would like to spend the summer with you too . no offense to lorraine , she’s great . ” a smile crosses over her face for a moment . “ i don’t feel like this is something i have to do , connell . ”
❝ YOU’RE SURE YOU DON’T? ❞ it was as if the sun at last returned from its hiding spot behind a cluster of stormy clouds above ... or rather like the first cast of breezy wind on the hottest day of the year, a long desired rest from the ache of existing in a vacuum of uncertainty ─ she had given him this. a moment of peace, a moment to breathe, a summer’s worth of reprieve from the economic pressures seemingly hell - bent on sending him running back to carricklea with his tail between his legs. ❝ okay then, so i’ll stay with you. ❞ whatever determination he’d had to keep a smile from his lips, he now sorely lacked, for burst forth it did, crinkling his eyes & lacing his words with mirth when he spoke. ❝ i’ll pay you back somehow, i promise. ❞ freed of the anxiety & worry that had been limiting his every move and word since he’d showed up at her door, connell shoved himself out from the kitchen counter, padded over to where marianne stood & swept her up in his arms. ❝ until then i can ... i’ll be your private chauffeur, drive you wherever you want, whenever you want. ❞
Midland Theater, Kansas City. 24.09.19. Photographed by Bella Peterson.
