#THE IRON ISLANDS MAN WE REALLY COULD HAVE HAD VIKINGS

[15-lizards]

If A Song of Ice and Fire was written by a teenage girl you can bet your sweet ass there would be entire chapters dedicated to regional westerosi/essosi fashions and how they were influenced…god we could have had it all why does Mr Martin have to be an old guy who likes writing (inaccurate) battles more than historical clothing and hairstyles 💔

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

director’s cut on aldreda’s childhood/emotional development!

This has activated something in my brain that’s probably gonna see me writing a full lore novel about Aldreda & (my version) of Dance Era House Farwynd, like, I’m literally typing this up on a google doc just for my own ease of answering, I have no idea how long this is going to be lmao. Anyway, I’m gonna start off with a couple things that definitely need to be known as the baseline & then I’ll move on from there with wherever the wind takes me.

The baseline of knowledge we need to go forward is this: Aldreda is the only girl out of 21 children, she watched her number of siblings slowly dwindle starting from the time she was 4 until she was 26, she is one of only 2 kids her dad’s rock wife/Ironborn wife had.

There’s not really any way to sugar coat either of Aldreda’s parents. They both suck in their own way. Their relationship was never good. but it’s definitely in shambles now. They are the source of a lot of Aldreda being the way she is, they aren’t all of it (we’ll get to the rest of it) but they are a big, big foundational part.

Alfric Farwynd, the Lord Reaver of Lonely Light is the archetypical Ironborn lord. He’s what everyone wants to be, but he’s so far away from every other noble house in the Iron Islands that he just kind of gets ignored a lot of the time & has unchecked power over his lonely little island. He has 3 salt wives, one of which he kidnapped/married before he even got married to his arranged islander wife. He spent his entire youth raiding & pillaging & he probably has an army of bastard kids he doesn’t know about amongst the thralls of other Ironborn houses & his own castle & even on the mainland if any women got left behind. This guy sucks, he saw a vat of “respect women juice” & dumped it into the ocean so no one could drink it. He doesn’t care about his wives, he barely cares about his daughter, & the only reason he doesn’t have any more kids is because his wives started getting menopausal & his dick stopped working when he was in his mid 60s (RIP Alfric Farwynd, you would have loved viagra). The only person who will ever live up to his expectations is himself, and he was the measuring stick he held up to his sons. He constantly criticized them & they never were exactly how he wanted by virtue of being their own people instead of extensions of himself like he wanted; they were sons though & they met his expectations better than Aldreda ever did. Especially after they died, when they could stop disappointing him & he could project whatever prowesses & perfections onto them he wanted (this was especially true of the ones who died in the cradle & didn’t even get tainted memories of their “failings”). Aldreda kind of wasn’t even a neat party trick to parade around, she was mostly ignored & if asked he'd really only be able to say “she's one of my kids, man, I don’t know. She has my eyes, I like that.” He was cold & distant & critical, & he loves his brothers in his own way but he’s not really “dad material” because he’s too caught up in the toxic pseudo-viking machismo of the Iron Islands. As a little girl, Aldreda was terrified of him, and even as an adult in her late 20s she kind of still is; but she covers that up by performing the same kind of toxic attitudes Alfric has & lashing out within the parameters of Ironborn Manliness As Filtered Through The Lense Of A Woman Victimized By It.

Lady Melusine Myre is…not mentally okay. She is resentful, she is full of grief, & she doesn’t know where to put any of it. She only had 2 children: Ronas & Aldreda. Her son died in the cradle before her daughter was even born, her husband blamed her for his death, & when he finally came back to her she had a daughter & he never came back. She blames the salt wives for her husband being Like This & harbors resentment for those 3 women who don’t even want to be there & each son they give her husband; she doesn’t celebrate when those boys & men die though, because how can she? Their mothers mourn like she does & she understands that pain at least. She has never been her husband’s first choice, & really he probably wouldn’t have been hers, but she was promised the story of “being a noble reaver’s rock wife, his real wife he can only have one of who will give him sons & carry on the family line & he’ll like you more than all those silly mainland wives he takes. It is a good thing for your husband to have those, by the way, it means he is prosperous & rich & can take care of that many wives & all their kids!” She tells herself she’s okay with it, but she isn’t. She wants love & closeness & intimacy, but she hasn’t gotten that a day in her adult life since she got shipped off to Lonely Light away from the other Iron Islands to marry The Absolute Most Ironborn Man There Is Currently. She doesn’t have a partner, she lost her son, she got abandoned but still has to live with the man who did that to her, so she uses her only kid to fill her emotional needs. Like, Lady Melusine’s boundaries with Aldreda are paper fucking thin, they basically aren’t there. Aldreda is her mom’s therapist, she has to live up to her standards that change every day, & she has never had a moment of privacy with that woman. “It doesn’t matter that you started puberty, I’m your mother & I don’t need to knock to come into your room.”/“It doesn’t matter that you’re a grown woman now, I’m your mother & I’m going to rant at you about some slight against me while you’re taking a bath or getting changed.” And in return for this fucky, laborious emotional incest, Aldreda’s payment is “I will support you doing your gender weird stuff & back you up now that you’re the only claimant to Lonely Light,” & yes that is tied to how much Lady Melusine loves her daughter, but it’s also got a small undercurrent of “if you want to replace all your dead brothers, that is my revenge against everyone who I think has wronged me when you succeed.”

So Aldreda has this just really intense parental situation while living in an incredibly isolated & insular court. Growing up her friends were either her half brothers, or the children of her father’s raiders, or some thrall’s kid: vast power & age imbalances. Aldreda’s oldest brother was 25 when she was born, & she was 20 when her youngest brother was born.

Her favorite person was her older brother Orwen (who was 20 when he died, & Aldreda was 13 when that happened). She looked up to him & wanted to be like him, at least in some respects, & he took care of her. Aldreda wasn’t just “his annoying little sister,” he taught her to fight & brought her little trinkets back from raids & told her cool stories about how badass he was during said raids. Orwen was great, but, like, also one of his best friends was their Open-Secret-Serial-Predator-To-Tween-And-Teen-Girls cousin, Westley. Orwen kept Aldreda safe from him, he warned her to not spend time with him alone & in turn told Westley to leave her alone, but Aldreda was still being nurtured in an environment where people were just kind of lowkey okay with what was going on & really only cared to protect her. 

Her childhood was never that idyllic, but when she was super little she tried really hard to convince herself it was. She was 4 the first time one of her brothers died, then there were 2 more a year later, & then things were okay until she was 9 & 1 more died; little baby Aldreda didn’t really get it but she knew that there were stories about House Farwynd skinchanging into seals & so she just got it in her head that early to decide that’s what happened with her brothers. “Sure, Winfirth/Faren & Edgard/Theon are gone, but they aren’t gone gone! They’re seals now! I went down to the rookery & picked the one(s) I think is him/them!” And she never stopped doing that. Because yes, her parents suck & her dad only kind of loves them & her mom wants her to not love her half-brothers, but they’re her brothers & she loves them. She grieves & mourns for the short time she allows herself by going pure copium & deciding “this seal is my brother & he will get to live on as that animal for another 15 or so years, maybe 25 if we don’t set him loose!” & then she moves on (or at least convinces herself she does) because she doesn’t want to be like her parents. Except she is. She has turned Orwen into a saint in her memory, she has built her dead brothers up in her mind to act as the voice of her own self-doubt & self-criticism; and she is full of grief that she’s choking on & doesn’t know what to do with. She can’t let it out though, so it eats at her from the inside until she does something either to herself or someone else to let it out with sex or violence (like, she was fully carrying on an affair with the thrall who used to be Orwen’s salt wife for a good 5 years & was just like “this is a normal thing to do”).

When she lost 3 brothers in one fell swoop at 13 (favorite included), she decided “I am a girl, but I’m a son, y’know? Daughter but in a boy type way” & cut her hair short & started trying to live up to the persona Lord Alfric wanted of his sons & joined her cousin’s crew to go on raids. Except Orwen was dead & there was no one to save Aldreda from Westley, his men weren’t going to stop him from grooming her & making her attachment styles even worse (because he threatened them). She’s been fixated on him since she was 13/14 & it was a “positive” fixation until she was 26, then he showed his true colors of just being blindly ambitious & also a little bit delusional but she can’t stop being fixated on him because that’s over a decade of being manipulated & abused & thinking they were star crossed lovers & that “when he says the time is right I'm going to give him my maidenhead.” She still romanticizes what happened to her before remembering all the harm she learned he did & then it turns into the most (justifiably) hateful & violent fixation known to man: it's still a fixation though.

She's not her mother or her father, she's something entirely separate & wholly worse: their daughter who never stopped being a sad, traumatized teenage girl in the middle of being emotionally abused & manipulated.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really That Bad?

I think I speak for everyone when I say that Jack Black is awesome. Ever since the one-two punch of 2008’s Kung Fu Panda and Tropic Thunder, Black has steadily seen himself rise to becoming a wacky and near universally beloved cultural icon, with zany YouTube videos and roles such as the gay psychic viking musician Helmut Fullbear in Psychonauts 2 and fucking Bowser of all people in The Super Mario Bros. Movie fully cementing his status as one of the most fun actors working today. But this sort of adoration wasn’t always the case.

Sure, everyone loved School of Rock and Tenacious D had a solid stoner buddy comedy film and some amusing songs, but Black’s career prior to the 2010s was pretty spotty and filled with bad and disposable comedies; there’s a reason he’ s playing the character stuck in a rut of making nothing but flatulent fat joke comedy movies in Tropic Thunder, after all. He still had some speedbumps to overcome before he’d reach Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle and Goosebumps even after his well-received 2008 films, and after starring in a film in 2009 that ended Harold Ramis’ career (and that I’m sure you’ll all vote for me to rewatch eventually), he made a pit stop in 2010 to dent his own career… but it wasn’t just him who suffered thanks to Gulliver’s Travels.

You see, this movie has an interesting bit of trivia to it that s likely the only reason it’s even vaguely remembered at all. Emily Blunt was contractually obligated to star in this film as a result of starring in The Devil Wears Prada, which on its own isn’t all too interesting… But because of this, she had to skip out on being Black Widow in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. While Iron Man 2 wouldn’t have been better with her in it, the MCU as a whole might have benefited from having an actress as good as her as the first superheroine in the franchise. Maybe we could have even gotten a Black Widow movie sooner, and with less awful villains and terrible CGI!

This is all the film gets remembered for today, if it’s remembered at all: A footnote for the MCU, and one that hurt the careers of its lead actors for a couple of years until they were able to bounce back with more critically-acclaimed films. At best, those into more niche and obscure media might know that this films has a lot of material reworked from a scrapped adaptation of the Prometheus and Bob shorts from Nickelodeon’s KaBlam! It can’t even be remembered as some ridiculously huge bomb, because even with it making less than half its budget back domestically, internationally it managed to double it!

So hey, maybe those international audiences were on to something. Sure, it was critically reviled but it was also successful overseas, so maybe other countries knew something we didn’t here in America. Is Gulliver’s Travels really that bad, or is this a hidden Jack Black gem that America was too hard on?

THE GOOD

I think what really surprised me the most is the set design and costumes. Maybe I’ve just been absolutely poisoned by the non-stop onslaught of CGI as of late, but it was really nice to see some actual sets, actual costumes, and actual effort on display in a movie, even if it wasn’t the most amazing thing out there.

The film also has some very fun sequences, all of them obviously revolving around Jack Black. There’s the scene where he has to put out a fire and, uh, uses his natural hose to extinguish the flame (which is apparently lifted directly from the original book), which manages to be one of the only funny pee jokes in human history thanks to James Corden becoming doused in urine; there’s a scene where JB has to defeat an armada of ships and manages to do it with an accidental counter attack that eerily manages to foreshadow the climax of Kung Fu Panda 2; and there’s a scene where JB is banished to an island where he is kidnapped by a giant girl and turned into a doll in her dollhouse. Fun sequences like this make full use of the world the film has created.

Also, yes, it’s a bit dumb and cringey how one of the major conflicts in the film is solved by Jack Black randomly breaking out into a musical number, but if you’re gonna pay for Jack Black you gotta get him to sing. This one time, I’ll let the corny dance party ending slide—but it’s on thin fucking ice.

THE BAD

I mean, with both James Corden and T.J. Miller in the film, it’s no surprise there’s plenty of suckiness to the proceedings.

I think the main issue is that the film is too short and doesn’t really do enough with its premise. Now, I’m no expert on the book this is loosely adapting seeing as I’ve never read it, but I feel like they could have done more than just liberally adapt elements for a silly family film, and I also think eighty minutes isn’t nearly enough time to really delve into things. And even having never read it, this is taking one of the greatest pieces of classic literature written by one of history’s sharpest satirists (Johnathan Swift, he of A Modest Proposal fame) and turned it into a wacky vehicle for Jack Black. It’s kind of hard not to feel a bit bitter we didn’t get a straighter modernized adaptation instead of a wacky family film.

Aside from that, though, the worst I can say is that some of the humor is pretty dorky or cringey, and that not a lot of performances really stand out. The former is to be expected from a silly family film like this, but the latter is pretty damn shocking considering the massive amounts of talent in this film. Black is having fun, but his hamming doesn’t always land, nor does his oversaturation of pop culture references; Emily Blunt and Jason Segel are okay, but they feel a bit overplayed and underplayed, respectively; Billy Connolly is barely even trying as the king, but it’s not like he’s given good material; and the rest of the cast are perfectly serviceable but not exactly standout. Everything is just okay (even Corden and Miller, but I hate them so let’s just say they suck).

I think my biggest issue is that even if nothing is done offensively badly here, the film’s story is packed far too tightly with the most expected family film cliches you can imagine. You’ve got a really basic “liar revealed” plot at the core, you have the character getting bad romantic advice from his friend that leads to a third act breakup with his love interest, you have the most shallow romantic arc in the world beside that with one of the most unrealistic reactions you could ever imagine from a woman who has been repeatedly lied to by the guy crushing on her… It’s just really tired and sloppy. You have seen all the plot points here in a dozen better films.

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Maybe it’s just because I was expecting a lot worse, but I honestly found this film to be kind of charming.

Like, sure, it’s not really anything special. It’s just a goofy Jack Black family film, and as far as those go it’s definitely nothing compared to Nacho Libre. But it doesn’t really overstay its welcome, it has a few chuckles, Black gets to sing, and James Corden gets doused in piss, so I can’t say I didn’t find some enjoyment in it. It’s a silly little disposable bit of fluff that’s fun to watch once and maybe put on in the background if you need some noise, and there’s a place for films like that in this world.

But, you know, I kind of get why audiences didn’t vibe with this. Nothing in this movie is as offensively bad as a lot of other family fantasy films of the time, but there’s nothing that really stands out here either. You’ve got some cool scenes, cool ideas, and Jack Black hamming it up, but none of it really ever gels into something great. This is a completely average, somewhat enjoyable, and kind of forgettable film, and I completely understand why it has faded from the public consciousness besides being a bit of MCU trivia. It’s not offensive or bad enough to really bring out intense emotion, but it isn’t good enough to gush about, and Jack Black has been in so many better roles lately that utilize the traits this film is banking on far better that it’s hard to recommend this unless you’re really curious or bored.

That 4.9 is pretty harsh though, honestly. I gave it a 6, mostly because I just found the whole thing endearingly dorky, but realistically I’d say maybe in the mid to high 5 range is where this movie belongs. It’s got plenty of cringey moments and it’s not really mind-blowing, with it relying far too much on cliché plot elements you see in a lot of bargain bin family films, but I think there’s just enough effort on display here to make this a passable viewing experience. As far as corny Jack Black movies go, you could be doing a lot worse than watching this one.

A lot worse.

[favescandis]

New Q&A with Alexander Skarsgård and Esquire Middle East

‘Alexander Skarsgård on pro wrestling, death metal, the joys of Godzilla vs Kong’ - by William Mullally, March 25, 2021

The Swedish star speaks to Esquire Middle East about his latest film, being home in Stockholm, and staying ripped for The Northman during quarantine

Alexander Skarsgård did not have the 2020 the rest of us did. There was no quiet quarantine, no tubs of ice cream devoured at three in the morning, no existential boredom, no staring out the window as we wondered if we’d ever be able to start doing things again.

No, Skarsgård had to spend the year staying in the best shape of his life to play an honest-to-god Viking warrior and Nordic prince Amleth in Robert Eggers’ upcoming epic The Northman. Not that he minded, of course.

Skarsgård is in a very good place. Before The Northman, he filmed Godzilla vs. Kong, which was one of the most joyful experiences of his career. It’s a film that is much better than anyone could have hoped, that fixes the flaws of the previous outings of the franchise in Kong: Skull Island and Godzilla: King of Monsters by making its supporting characters actually interesting to follow—including Skarsgård’s turn as a conspiracy-loving mad scientist named Nathan Lind—and making the battle between the legendary behemoths the stuff of Hulk Hogan vs. Andre the Giant.

Esquire Middle East caught up with the 44-year-old Swedish actor, who is aging like a vampire, fittingly enough, over Zoom ahead of the film’s release.

Read the full ESQ&A with Alexander Skarsgård below:

Alex, it’s great to see you again. How are you?

I’m pretty good. You’re in Dubai, right? I’m in Stockholm, Sweden at the moment.

How long have you been home?

I’ve been here for two months now since I wrapped The Northman.

How’s that been?

Yeah, it's been really nice. I mean, it's obviously a difficult time, but considering everything, I'm lucky, because everyone is doing alright. It's a nice opportunity for me, as I'm constantly on the road normally. It’s great to just be home, and not just for a week around Christmas or weekend over summer. I actually get to be here and spend some real time with my family.

You didn’t have any downtime in 2020?

Well, I was actually shooting for most of 2020. When the pandemic hit, I was in Belfast about to start filming the Northman, then we shut down for three months, and during that I had to train basically. It's a very physical role, so I had to keep working out. I was still in work mode for the whole lockdown. Then in July, we started shooting till the end of the year.

Did you prefer it that way?

I was very grateful to be able to work. It was definitely different from the normal set because we were completely isolated. We got tested three times a week and I basically lived in a bubble up in the hills of Northern Ireland and didn't see anyone didn't do anything for six months other than work and sleep and train.

I have a friend Adlai who lives in that village in Northern Ireland and I kept trying to get him to go break into your set because I needed to know more about this movie.

It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. The most amazing experience.

You’ve been making a habit of working with great horror filmmakers, with Robert Eggers (The Witch) on the Northman, and Adam Wingard (You’re Next) on Godzilla vs. Kong.

What’s interesting about all these guys like Adam and Rob Eggers is they produce these really dark and twisted movies but they are two of the nicest human beings I've ever met. They're so sweet and genuine.

What do you and Adam like to talk about?

Death metal, probably. He's a big metal fan.

Are death metal people sweethearts, generally speaking?

Yeah, actually. Sometimes I feel like that's sometimes the case when you meet musicians in death metal bands they're like the sweetest, loveliest people who talk about their grandmothers and stuff.

Why do you think that is?

Maybe it's cathartic. It's a way to get out all that dark energy onto the big screen or as a musician onto an album.

Did you and Adam click immediately?

I met him years ago for another project. We didn’t end up working together on that but it was such a memorable meeting that we stayed in touch over the years. He’s not only a wonderful guy but so intelligent, such a film buff who knew everything about not only the horror genre, but even just films in general. When Godzilla vs Kong came up, I was just really excited to get an opportunity to work with him.

Were the words ‘Godzilla’ and ‘Kong’ enough for you, or did something specific draw you to this one?

I think it was a combination. I had just come off of a couple of really dark intense projects. I did the Little Drummer Girl, which is a limited series based on the John le Carré novel about conflicts in the Middle East, and I just come off Big Little Lies, two seasons of domestic abuse.

Did you just need something different?

It was just really two of the most rewarding experiences of my career but also really, really draining really intense experiences. I was just craving something fun and exciting. I hadn't done any big tent pole matinee-style movies and since Tarzan.

But you said it was a combination—are you also a Godzilla nerd?

Oh man, I was like a little boy. I just got giddy when I saw the renderings, the drawings, the storyboards, like the world that they wanted to create. I thought tonally they were the right people to make this kind of movie because I thought they had the balls to go all the way and make it as big and crazy and fun as it as I think it deserves to be, with the right amount of sarcasm and irony, but while still taking the topic seriously, and the characters seriously, and really caring about both Kong and Godzilla.

Did you and Adam share a lot creatively back and forth?

Oh, yeah. He would run up to me and ask what if they run into a creature that almost looks like an owl and start explaining how it works. And then you start sketching something on a piece of tissue. And then a week later, he would come back with something amazing that the visual artists have created. To be part of that from an early stage is so exciting to me.

As a pro wrestling fan, that balance of ironic and serious you mentioned sounds awfully familiar to me. Did you guys make a pro wrestling movie on purpose?

It’s a lot like pro wrestling. Like, you want the fights to be big spectacular, fun, and entertaining. But you want to care about the wrestlers, right? You want to root for them. I think Adam did such a great job in finding that tone. They beat the sh*t out of each other on an aircraft carrier, but you also want to connect with these creatures and care about them. The movie asks, what does Kong really wants other than beat up Godzilla? What is he longing for in life?

That’s exactly what I think when I watch the Undertaker throw Mankind off Hell in a Cell.

Absolutely!

Godzilla vs. Kong is in theaters now across the Middle East

https://www.esquireme.com/content/51448-alexander-skarsgard-on-pro-wrestling-death-metal-the-joys-of-godzilla-vs-kong-the-northman-interview

Photo from WarnerBros. Entertainment. Thanks to SophTop on Delish for the find!

[wipodu-ao3]

Making it work - a HTTYD fanfic

Read it on Ao3. Join the Discord!

A Fem!Hiccup AU.

Summary:

Hiccup had made up her mind. Dragon killing was not for her, no matter how much her father protested, she was done with it. She was done trying to fit in. She was going to be who she wanted to be, it's not like anyone cared.

[Ongoing]

Hiccup shut the door of the house with force. Every time! Every time she made a mistake her father humiliated her. He thought he was just raising her with ‘the Viking way’, but she knew he could do that in the privacy of their home and not outside for the whole village to see! He just didn’t… he didn’t know how to raise a daughter.

She understood that. She accepted that. But she wasn’t lying! Hiccup had really shot down a Night Fury! Well if no one believed her, she would go out on her own. Nobody cared enough to stop her. She would show them that she wasn’t lying, that she was capable of being a viking as much as they were.

Hiccup left the house using the back door, to avoid any of the taunts she would undoubtedly receive. She knew the woods of the island like the back of her hand, she spent a lot of time there. It was like a second home to her and even with the setting sun and darkness approaching she didn’t fear getting lost.

Being in the woods helped her relax and get away from… everything. From her father, from the bullies, from the scrutiny of the tribe. Her only friends were Gobber and Ruffnut, as sad as that sounded, she didn’t mind. The other teens her age weren’t that kind to her. Her cousin made fun of her constantly, the twins always joined in, but Ruffnut always did so in a teasing way, not like the cruel way the two boys did.

Fishlegs was her friend once, but ultimately he succumbed to the pressure of being one of the ‘cool’ vikings. And Arne… Arne was indifferent mostly, he didn’t make fun of her, he even helped her at some points in her life, but he wasn’t friendly either. He strived for greatness and was Stoick’s favorite without really trying.

Stoick always talked about Arne, how great the boy was, how he will grow up to be a great viking, how the boy would make a great Chief. Like Hiccup didn’t know these things, the crush she had on the boy was enough proof that she did. She hid the crush as best as she could, not because she cared what others thought, no. She hid her crush because her disinterest in the subject was the only thing keeping Stoick away from arranging a marriage with the boy’s father.

She walked through the forest with confidence, she had drawn a map in her notebook just to keep track of the places she had been already. Hiccup crossed out another place on the map, no Night Fury there. This was getting irritating. She knew that the God’s had it out for her, it was already obvious at that point! So why, oh why, couldn’t they give her a break?

“Oh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an ENTIRE DRAGON?!” She exclaimed, airing her frustrations to the sky as she shut her notebook forcefully.

She slapped a branch out of her way, but it came back and caught her eye in its way. Hiccup glared at the branch with hatred, but something got her attention. The branch was snapped – scratch that – the whole tree was snapped in half. The only thing that could’ve done that would be… the Night Fury!

Hiccup followed the ditch that had been carved out by the falling dragon. She didn’t care about the dirt she got on herself as she ran forwards, twisting her ankle a bit, she didn’t feel the sting, she was too excited. As she reached a small hill peering over it, she was it. The Night Fury was there! Bound and helpless, easy to kill.

She approached the dragon carefully. It seemed to be dead already, that didn’t diminish her spirits, all she needed was a part of it to show to her father and then… then he would leave her alone, she would show what she could do and he would finally be proud of her.

“Oh, wow. I did it. Oh, I did it!” she could help but exclaim, “This fixes everything! Yes! I have brought down this mighty beast!” she boasted as she put her leg on the body.

The body under her foot moved, startling her quite a bit, she took out her dagger with shaking hands. The dragon was alive, that changed things.

“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm going to cut out your heart and take it to my father.” Her voice trembled, but she kept trying to reassure herself, “I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!”

Hiccup looked over the dragon, from its bound tail to his open – oh Thor it was open – eye. She tried to steady herself, but her eyes kept going back to the frightened eyes of the dragon. Those eyes were so… human. The Night Fury was as scared as she was.

“I did this,” she whispered to herself, her voice filled with remorse.

She lowered her dagger as she started to feel guilt overwhelm her. She did this. She had taken this beast and shot it out of the sky for her own gain. Hiccup didn’t have the guts to go through with it, she didn’t have what it takes to take a life for her own temporary gain. Because with her track record, it would be only temporary.

She looked down at the dragon, the dragon had accepted his fate, but Hiccup had other plans. No one believed her, no one would know that she let the dragon go. She kneeled next to the beast, taking the bolas rope and pulling it away from the body, cutting every rope one by one. With the last rope the dragon shot up, pining Hiccup under its claws.

This was it, Hiccup hadn’t thought things through, had she? Of course the dragon would be mad! Well, with the hot breath of the dragon fanning her face, she accepted her fate. What a way to go! The tribe’s disappointment killed by a dragon, how ironic in a way.

But she wasn’t dead. The dragon had leaned in and when she thought it was all over, the Night Fury just roared in her face and flew off. She was alive! She pulled all of her strength and stood up to head back, she didn’t make it far as her vision went black.

When she woke up, it was already dark. Oh Thor, her father was probably back home and he was wondering where she was. She did not want to deal with him tonight! But she still made her way home, her bed sounding way better than the cold forest floor.

As she made her way inside, her heart fell when she saw her father still up. She sighed to herself as she tried to get pass him, she didn’t succeed.

“Hiccup.” Her father’s voice stopped her halfway up the stairs.

“Dad,” she greeted him back.

“I have to talk to you,” Stoick turned to her, his eyes widening at her dirty appearance.

“I have to talk to you too,” Hiccup agreed, she would have to tell him that she was giving up on dragons sooner or later, but sooner was better.

“I've decided I don't want to fight dragons anymore.”

“I think it's time you learn to fight dragons.”

They said at the same time, then again they spoke simultaneously.

“What?”

“You go first,” Stoick told her.

“No, no, you go first,” she insisted, buttering him up might stop him from getting angry after she told him that she didn’t want anything to do with dragons.

“Alright. You get your wish. Dragon Training. You start in the morning.” Stoick said in conclusion, without even asking her what she wanted.

“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” Hiccup was panicking, this wasn’t the plan, “Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough... bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings--?”

“You'll need this,” he said as he pushed an axe that he got from the wall into her hands.

“I don't want to fight dragons,” she disagreed trying to push the axe away from herself.

“Come on. Yes, you do,” Stoick laughed her statement off.

“Let me rephrase: Dad, I can't kill dragons,” she pleadingly told him.

“But you will kill dragons.”

“No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't.”

“It's time, Hiccup.” Stoick forcefully said to her.

“Can you not hear me?!” she exclaimed in frustration.

“This is serious, Hiccup!” Stoick yelped, “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us. No more of... this.” He explained gesturing to her.

“You just gestured to all of me,” she rebutted in offence.

“Deal?” he asked her.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided,” She complained with a frown.

“DEAL?!” he basically shouted as he pushed the axe to her once again.

“Deal,” she sighed as she took the axe, seeing the conversation going nowhere.

“Good,” he said satisfied, “Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.” He told her as he picked up his things and left the house.

“And I'll be here. Maybe,” she whispered to herself, she looked down at the axe she could barely hold up, determination filled her, she knew what to do. “But you won’t like what I’m going to be,” she said to the empty house with a smirk.

‘I wonder what Ruff is up to?’ she thought to herself as she let the axe drop from her grasp.

[caroline-nighthunter]

-Rating and gushing about every Wizard101 “World”/Arc-  

Imma just gush about my month of Wizard101 and how I finally got to a close “end” of the game.

24/12 Edit: Fixed some typos here and there and added some stuff.

07/09 Edit: KI decided to fully revamp Wiz city also changing some lore so the rating on that is outdated. Might also put my thought of the new Wiz City there once I’m through all the new content.

Arc 1 - Malistaire - 10/10

Prob my favourite.

The writing really ties in every world, even when you speedquest through it.

Contains a lot of my favourite worlds.

I’m still crying over Mali to this day...

(Old) Wizard City - 10/10

Literally the introduction to the game and the place I spent most of my time in when I was a crownless and membershipless young wizard.

Do you want to farm Nightshade or Kraken?

That graphic revamp really punched.

Fave Places To chill: Nightside, Commons, Ravenwood, Cyclops Lane

Krokotopia - 11/10

This world made me fall in love with Wizard101

Egyptian aesthetic o-o

I was once a balance wizard you know?

Cries over the plot in the tomb of storms

Also KROKODILES

Fave Places To chill: Krokosphinx, School Of Balance

Marleybone - 10/10

I liked the Wizard version, but the Pirate version is more my jam.

Everyone is lookin dapper.

Home of the Doc- I mean Professor!

The whole worlds feels like Cats, but with dogs and the plot is Sherlock Holmes.

Barkingham Palace Gear o-o

Fave Places To chill: The Museum. 

Mooshu 7/10

Japan and China vibes

Your usual warlord chaos

Everything is BRIGHT GREEN

It felt  S H O R T

Has pretty nice wand drops

Fave Places To chill: Jade Palace

Dragonspyre 12/10  

This is what you get when you throw Roman aesthetic, Prussian History and a pinch of Russia into a pot.

The amount of subtle history references is making me listen to every line of dialogue I can get from this world.

D R A G O N S

Milos Bookwyrm is kinda a darlin

We kill Mali here :’)

Fave Places To chill: The Atheneum, wherever my battle drake chills

Arc 2 - Morganthe - 9/10

Has nice spots here and there.

Writing is still good, but a little less engaging.

Morganthe was so over the top “bad bitch” that it got annoying

Grandpappy spider was the saving grace of the arc

Celestia - 8/10

Solid world, story was kinda meh

ASTRAL MAGIC

Is this Skull Island??? Why are there water moles??? I thought they only exist in Skull Island????

Basically Atlantis

WAND OF STASIS

Fave Places To chill: Watermole Village

Zafaria - 8/10

Jambo Wizard!

The plot is Belloq and crazy tse-tse zebra ruining everyones day.

All they wanted was a nice zafari, all they got was misery and running into Morganthe worshippers.

Flameingo can’t take it anymore...

“Son I’m disappointed”

Fave Places To chill: Baobab Crown

Avalon - 9/10

Love it, but something is missing?

King Arthur, but you’re Arthur.

How to become a knight 101

FINALLY I CAN GET DEER KNIGHT

The source of Morganthes saltiness

Everyone is prob scared of me because I rode a battle badger during my stay...

Fave Places To chill: Caliburn

Azteca - 9.5/10

Hello and Bye...

I will never be able to do casual side questing here anymore...

The plot was nice, but you know, IRREVERSIBLE DAMAGE WAS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED

Do not speedquest through this if you are a plot person, DO NOT

Cries over birb and dinosaur friends...

The music was the best part of it.

Fave Places To chill: N o w h e r e  a f t e r  t h a t  d a r n  m e t h e o r i t e, almost everywhere before that

Khrysalis - 9.8/10

L O O O O O N G

It was to be expected though

Mouse Guard vibes

The furniture sets for this suck and there is no proper furniture to obtain otherwise...

One Wizard Army (with the help of some deer friends) pls do not kill me for my bad word puns

I’d feel bad about how Morganthe ended, but after Azteca I really don’t have anything left for that whiny bitch...

A lot of people want my head...

Hello there hand- I mean hello there Spider.

Captain Colridge, if you had a pegleg I’d be 100% sure you’re ratbeard gone out of shape.

I love the dynamic changes to the Bastion once you progress

SHADOW MAGIC no one uses though because it’s not worth the pips and time 

Fave Places To chill: Last Woods 

Arc 3 - Spider And Raven - 6/10

Had solid concepts, kinda threw them out of the window

I do not like the writing in a majority of the arc

I think I was so disappointed, because I hyped these worlds up so much, the expectations did not meet reality

The ending was a no no

Plot was barely engaging

I only pushed through this for the concepts of Mirage and Polaris and wanted to see where Grandpappy Spider went

Polaris - 7/10

WAY TOO SHORT

You spent half of the time in the arcanum anyway

I don’t like Mellori, but that is just me

REVOLUTION TIME!

I don’t like that we had to throw a ship worth of fish into the sea, although they apparently still live? Somehow?

Everyone was at full right to overthrow the Empress though, she was horrible.

Where is Napoleguin???

RA RA RATSPUTIN, LOVER OF- wait  w h a t ? ? ?

I don’t like the Arcanum, but I guess I’ll be a part of it.

Fave Places To chill: Walruskberg, Captain Colridges Tavern 

Mirage - 6.5/10

The more you hype, the more you’ll be disappointed...

Again the Spider part of the plot was good, the other was  e h

If I’m going to have to talk to another snobby over the top whiny cat I’m going to lose it.

Boochbeard, where is Mr. Gandry?

Bara Snakes.

Istar stop whining about bugs.

Ozzy you’re my best bud in this.

House themed GEAR, APARTMENTS and MOUNTS, but you gotta defeat a 100 enemies before that...

Love the world design though

THE MAGIC CARPET RIDE

Fave Places To chill: Caravan, anywhere you can wander through endless sand

Empyrea 4/10

This is what happens when you throw too many things together

S t a r  T r e k 

Medulla shut up

The idea to have an isle in the eye of a storm is cool though

Zanadu was kinda meh (prob because I remember most of it just happening in a sewer)

That dance session though, Khan rocks

The dwarfes were also kinda meh, just didn’t fit with the concepts of the previous areas 

Cthulu island was also kinda meh

Ending of the first half was literally Batman and although I know “The Bat” and “The cabal” it kinda came out of nowhere...

And then I pretty much lost interest in the world

The Reverie got me again, nice and fresh mechanics.

I will make a seperate rant on the ending, but no... I don’t like it at all and I don’t see Spider forgiving Raven as a good ending

Felt really forced

Hit some bad spots with me...

I thought we could fight Raven??? >:O

Fave Places To chill: Reverie

Arc 4 - idk what is going on

Karamelle ?/10

Ja moin, guten Tag allerseits.

Haven’t gotten there yet, but man, I’m not up for dictator Nana... :T

Spells look pathetic o k

If you try denglish one more time I’m going to lose it

At this point it’s obvious that KI has a thing for german speaking countries related stuff

Sentinel Marshmallows, do I have to say more? 

Other Worlds

Grizzleheim - 8/10

Vikings

Forshadowing of Raven

It’s ok

Grendleweed

Wintertusk - 8/10

Even more Vikings

Grizzleheim 2.0, but everyone is op and crits

You need the spells, but you don’t want to do it

It’s been too long since I’ve last been there

Wysteria - 9/10

The original snob

At least these weren’t a pain to listen to...

Incompetent teachers make incompetent students.

That hall of fame though.

Actually a nice world to quest through

The aesthetic is nice and they kinda got the cooler library compared to Ravenwood, unless I’m missing out on something.

Fave Places To chill: The library

Aquila - 10/10

Birbs

Was a pain in Pirate, is wonderful in Wiz

SKY IRON HASTA

Secret bosses you seldom find people to fight with

Everyone is salty that you’ve beated them and they don’t even try to hide.

Hades got the best estate.

Cerberus was cute until he became a set of floating heads.

Fave Places To chill: Tartarus

Darkmoor - 9.5/10

“Who hits?” - “Everyone” - *person who asked decides to leave the dungeon*

This happened to me 7 times in a row an U G H

People need to calm down their hitter ego

The dungeons are fun the first times, then they are just an annoyance to farm.

Plot is the Ballad Lenore

GO TO REST MALI

Hit in 5 rounds or say bye bye to your blades

No Feints

Catacombs 11/10

D r a g o n s p y r e  L o r e

Valencia, what are you doin there?

Basically KI’s punch in the face of Pirate101 players

“Oh you want an update? Guess you gotta watch how we recycle Valencia in Wiz”

Dragoon gear - Just like Darkmoor, but this time your suffering has a certain end

Also no exp on your quests?

[thecoleopterawithana]

The Painter of Sunflowers and The Man in a Red Beret

— The Painter of Sunflowers (Portrait of Vincent van Gogh), by Paul Gauguin (1888).

— Paul Gauguin (Man in a Red Beret), by Vincent van Gogh (1888).

–

It’s like trying to compare Gauguin and Van Gogh. They were friends, as well.

— John Lennon talks with Robert Hilburn from The LA Times (10 October 1980).

–

Certain relationships are charged with an intensity of feeling that incinerates the walls we habitually erect between platonic friendship, romantic attraction, and intellectual-creative infatuation. One of the most dramatic of those superfriendships unfolded between the artists Paul Gauguin (June 7, 1848–May 8, 1903) and Vincent van Gogh (March 30, 1853–July 29, 1890), whose relationship was animated by an acuity of emotion so lacerating that it led to the famous and infamously mythologized incident in which Van Gogh cut off his own ear — an incident that marks the extreme end of what Sir Thomas Browne contemplated, two centuries earlier, as the divine heartbreak of romantic friendship.

— ‘Gauguin’s Stirring First-Hand Account of What Actually Happened the Night Van Gogh Cut off His Own Ear’ by Maria Popova for Brain Pickings.

–

Imagine all the people living life in peace

Arles [town in the South of France where van Gogh had moved to on February 1988]; Wednesday, 3 October 1888

My dear Gauguin,

[…]

I must tell you that even while working I never cease to think about this enterprise of setting up a studio with yourself and me as permanent residents, but which we’d both wish to make into a shelter and a refuge for our pals at moments when they find themselves at an impasse in their struggle.

[…]

Now I’d like to see you taking a very large share in this belief that we’ll be relatively successful in founding something lasting.

[…]

I believe that if from now on you began to think of yourself as the head of this studio, which we’ll attempt to make a refuge for several people, little by little, bit by bit, as our unremitting work provides us with the means to bring the thing to completion — I believe that then you’ll feel relatively consoled for your present misfortunes of penury and illness, considering that we’re probably giving our lives for a generation of painters that will survive for many years to come.

[…]

About the room where you’ll stay, I’ve made a decoration especially for it, the garden of a poet […]. And I’d have wished to paint this garden in such a way that one would think both of the old poet of this place (or rather, of Avignon), Petrarch, and of its new poet — Paul Gauguin.

However clumsy this effort, you’ll still see, perhaps, that while preparing your studio I’ve thought of you with very deep feeling.

Let’s be of good heart for the success of our enterprise, and may you continue to feel very much at home here.

Because I’m so strongly inclined to believe that all this will last for a long time.

Good handshake, and believe me

Ever yours, Vincent

–

We’re all going to live there, perhaps forever, just coming home for visits. Or it might just be six months a year. It’ll be fantastic, all on our own on this island. There some little houses which we’ll do up and knock together and live communally.

— John Lennon, on his plan to buy a Greek island where the Beatle family could live together (1967). In The Anthology.

–

We were all going to live together now, in a huge estate. The four Beatles and Brian would have their network at the centre of the compound: a dome of glass and iron tracery (not unlike the old Crystal Palace) above the mutual creative/play area, from which arbours and avenues would lead off like spokes from a wheel to the four vast and incredibly beautiful separate living units. In the outer grounds, the houses of the inner clique: Neil, Mal, Terry and Derek, complete with partners, families and friends. Norfolk, perhaps, there was a lot of empty land there. What an idea! No thought of wind or rain or flood, and as for cold… there would be no more cold when we were through with the world. We would set up a chain reaction so strong that nothing could stand in our way. And why the hell not? ‘They’ve tried everything else,’ said John realistically. 'Wars, nationalism, fascism, communism, capitalism, nastiness, religion – none of it works. So why not this?

— Derek Taylor, in his autobiography Fifty Years Adrift (1984).

–

— Self-Portrait with Portrait of Émile Bernard (Les misérables), by Paul Gauguin (1888).

Readers of the Mercure may have noticed in a letter of Vincent’s, published a few years ago, the insistence with which he tried to get me to come to Arles to found an atelier after an idea of his own, of which I was to be the director.

At the time I was working at Pont-Aven, in Brittany, and either because the studies I had begun attached me to this spot or because a vague instinct forewarned me of something abnormal, I resisted a long time, till the day came when, finally overborne by Vincent’s sincere, friendly enthusiasm, I set out on my journey.

I arrived at Arles toward the end of the night and waited for Dawn in a little all-night café. The proprietor looked at me and exclaimed, “You are the pal, I recognize you!”

A portrait of myself which I had sent to Vincent explains the proprietor’s exclamation. In showing him my portrait Vincent had told him that it was a pal of his who was coming soon. 

Neither too early nor too late I went to rouse Vincent out. The day was devoted to getting settled, to a great deal of talking and to walking about so that I might admire the beauty of Arles and the Arlesian women, about whom, by the way, I could not get up much enthusiasm.

The next day we were at work, he continuing what he had begun, and I starting something new.

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

I don’t admire the painting but I admire the man. He was so confident, so calm. I so uncertain, so uneasy.

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

My memory of meeting John for the first time is very clear. … I can still see John now - checked shirt, slightly curly hair, singing ‘Come Go With Me’ by the Del Vikings. He didn’t know all the words, so he was putting stuff in about penitentiaries - and doing a good job of it. I remember thinking, ‘He looks good - I wouldn’t mind being in a group with him.’ … Then, as you all know, he asked me to join the group, and so we began our trip together. We wrote our first songs together, we grew up together and we lived our lives together. And when we’d do it together, something special would happen. There’d be that little magic spark. I still remember his beery old breath when I first met him here [Woolton church fete] that day. But I soon came to love that beery old breath. And I loved John. I always was and still am a great fan of John’s.

— Paul McCartney, in Bill Harry’s The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia (2003).

–

In the beginning he was a sort of fairground hero. He was the big lad riding the dodgems and we thought he was great. We were younger, me and George, and that mattered. It was teenage hero worship. I’ve often said how my first impression of him was his boozy breath all over me—but that was just a cute story. That was me being cute. It was true, but only an eighth of the truth. I just used to say that later when people asked me for my first memory of John. My first reaction was never simple—that he was great, that he was a great bloke, and a great singer. My REALLY first impression was that it was amazing how he was making up all the words.

He was singing “Come Go with Me to the Penitentiary,” and he didn’t know ONE of the words. He was making up every one as he went along. I thought it was great.

— Paul McCartney, according to Hunter Davies annotations of their phonecall on 3 May 1981.

–

And if I say I really knew you well  What would your answer be?

Between two such beings as he and I, the one a perfect volcano, the other boiling too, inwardly, a sort of struggle was preparing. In the first place, everywhere and in everything I found a disorder that shocked me. His colour-box could hardly contain all those tubes, crowded together and never closed. In spite of all this disorder, this mess, something shone out of his canvases and out of his talk, too. […]

In spite of all my efforts to disentangle from this disordered brain a reasoned logic in his critical opinions, I could not explain to myself the utter contradiction between his painting and his opinions. […] 

One thing that angered him was to have to admit that I had plenty of intelligence, although my forehead was too small, a sign of imbecility. Along with all this, he possessed the greatest tenderness, or rather the altruism of the Gospel.

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

I could just often be the sort of baddie in a situation, and he could be a real soft sweetie, you know? Took everyone by surprise, that!

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by David Frost (1997).

–

I was feeling insecure…

From: Vincent | To: Paul | Wednesday, 3 October 1888

I find my artistic ideas extremely commonplace in comparison with yours.

I always have an animal’s coarse appetites. I forget everything for the external beauty of things, which I’m unable to render because I make it ugly in my painting, and coarse, whereas nature seems perfect to me.

Now, however, the energy of my bony carcass is such that it goes straight to the target; from that comes a perhaps sometimes original sincerity in what I make, if, that is, the subject lends itself to my rough and unskilful execution.

–

Tony Sheridan: [John] never saw himself as a very good singer, for instance.

Interviewer: Really?

Tony Sheridan: No. He never saw himself as comparable to Paul McCartney, even. Which, you know, he was playing with a guy, writing songs with a guy whom he thought was better than he was in many ways. So he had this immense ego and this immense sort of – it was like a motor in him that had to go to new lengths and reach new heights in order to impress somebody or the whole world or whatever.

— In A Long And Winding Road (2003).

–

“Most people in Britain think I’m somebody who won the pools, you know,” he says drily, drawing on a Gauloise. “Won the pools and married a Hawaiian dancer or actress somewhere. Whereas in the States, we’re treated like artists. Which we are! Or anywhere else for that matter,” he added. “But here, it’s like, the lad who knew Paul, got a lucky break, won the pools and married the actress.”

— John Lennon, interviewed for Melody Maker (2 October 1971).

–

It may have been the one that had my song, 'Here, There and Everywhere.’ There were three of my songs and three of John’s songs on the side we were listening to. And for the first time ever, he just tossed it off, without saying anything definite, 'Oh, I probably like your songs better than mine.’

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Joan Goodman for Playboy (1984).

–

Knowing that love is to share

From the very first month, I saw that our common finances were taking on the same appearance of disorder. What was I to do? […] I was obliged to speak, at the risk of wounding that very great susceptibility of his. It was thus with many precautions and much gentle coaxing, of the sort very foreign to my nature, that I approached the question. I must confess that I succeeded far more easily than I should have supposed.

We kept a box, – so much for hygienic excursions at night, so much for tobacco, so much for incidental expenses, including rent. […] We gave up our little restaurant, and I did the cooking on a gas stove, while Vincent laid in provisions, not going very far from the house. Once, however, Vincent wanted to make soup. How he mixed it I don’t know; as he mixed his colours in his pictures, I dare say. At any rate, we couldn’t eat it. And my Vincent burst out laughing and exclaimed: “Tarascon! La casquette au père Daudet!” On the wall he wrote in chalk: Je suis Saint Esprit. Je suis sain d’esprit. [I am the Holy Spirit. I am sane.]

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

You’ve got to hide your love away

On several nights I surprised him in the act of getting up and coming over to my bed. To what can I attribute my awakening just at that moment?

At all events, it was enough for me to say to him, quite sternly, “What’s the matter with you, Vincent?” for him to go back to bed without a word and fall into a heavy sleep.

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.

— Paul McCartney, in The Brian Epstein Story (2000).

–

To say “I love you” would break all my teeth.

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

You can actually say, “I love you,” to someone, but it’s quite hard. And so that’s why it’s usually easier when you’re a bit drunk. It’s like ‘Here Today’ [on 1982’s Tug of War], which was for John, and there is the line, (sings) “Du du du du du du du, I love you,” and it is a bit of a moment in the song. It would be a bit like Keith Richards saying to Mick, “I love you.” I mean he does, but I’m not sure he’s going to say it. I’m sure the Gallaghers love each other on some level, probably quite deeply, but that certainly isn’t going to get said soon. I think it’s quite an interesting subject and I felt it most recently with [wife] Nancy, I knew I loved her but to actually say, “I love you,” you know, it’s just not that easy.

— Paul McCartney,  interview with Pat Gilbert for MOJO (November 2013).

–

Hear me, my lover  I can’t be held responsible now  For something that didn’t happen  I knew you for a minute  Oh, it didn’t happen  Only for a minute  

–

During the latter days of my stay, Vincent would become excessively rough and noisy, and then silent. […]

The idea occurred to me to do his portrait while he was painting the still-life he loved so much – some ploughs. When the portrait was finished, he said to me, “It is certainly I, but it’s I gone mad.”

That very evening we went to the café. He took a light absinthe. Suddenly he flung the glass and its contents at my head. I avoided the blow, and, taking him bodily in my arms, went out of the café, across the Place Victor Hugo. Not many minutes later Vincent found himself in his bed where, in a few seconds, he was asleep, not to awaken again til morning. 

When he awoke, he said to me very calmly, “My dear Gauguin, I have a vague memory that I offended you last evening.”

Answer: “I forgive you gladly and with all my heart, but yesterday’s scene might occur again and if I were struck I might lose control of myself and give you a choking. So permit me to write to your brother and tell him that I am coming back.”

My God, what a day!

When evening had come and I had bolted my dinner, I felt I must go out alone and take the air along the paths that were bordered by flowering laurel. I had almost crossed the Place Victor Hugo when I heard behind me a well-known step, short, quick, irregular. I turned about on the instance as Vincent rushed toward me, an open razor in his hand. My look at the moment must have had great power in it, for he stopped and, lowering his head, set off running towards home.

Was I negligent on this occasion? Should I have disarmed him and tried to calm him? I have often questioned my conscience about this, but I have never found anything to reproach myself with. Let him who will fling the stone at me.

With one bound I was in a good Alesian hotel, where, after I had enquired the time, I engaged a room and went to bed.

I was so agitated that I could not get to sleep till about three in the morning, and I awoke rather late, at about half-past seven.

Reaching the square, I saw a great crowd collected. Near our house there were some gendarmes and a little gentleman in a melon-shaped hat who was the superintendent of the police.

This is what had happened.

Van Gogh had gone back to the house and immediately cut off his ear close to the head. He must have taken some time to stop the flow of the blood, for the day after there were a loto f wet towels lying about on the flag-stones in the two lower rooms. […]

When he was in a condition to go out, with his head enveloped in a Basque beret which he had pulled far down, he went straight to a certain house where for want of a fellow-countrywoman one can pick up an acquaintance, and gave the manager his ear, carefully washed and placed in an envelope. “Here is a souvenir of me,” he said. Then he ran off home, where he went to bed and to sleep. […]

I had no faintest suspicion of all this when I presented myself at the door of our house and the gentleman in the melon-shaped hat said to me abruptly and in a tone that was more than severe, “What have you done to your comrade, Monsieur?”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh, yes… you know very well… he is dead.”

I could never wish anyone such a moment, and it took me a long time to get my wits together and control the beating of my heart.

Anger, indignation, grief, as well as shame at all these glances that were tearing my person to pieces, suffocated me, and I answered, stammeringly: “All right, Monsieur, let us go upstairs. We can explain ourselves there.”

In the bed lay Vincent, rolled up in the sheets, humped like a guncock; he seemed lifeless. Gently, very gently, I touched the body, the heat of which showed that it was still alive. For me it was as if I had suddenly got back all my energy, all my spirit.

Then in a low voice I said to the police superintendent: “Be kind enough, Monsieur, to awaken this man with great care, and if he asks for me tell him I have left for Paris; the sight of me might prove fatal to him.”

— On the events of 23 of December 1988. In The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

Auvers-sur-Oise, c. 17 June 1890

My dear friend Gauguin,

Thank you for having written to me again, my dear friend, and rest assured that since my return I have thought of you every day. I stayed in Paris only three days, and the noise, etc., of Paris had such a bad effect on me that I thought it wise for my head’s sake to fly to the country; but for that, I should soon have dropped in on you.

And it gives me enormous pleasure when you say the Arlésienne’s portrait [above], which was based strictly on your drawing, is to your liking. I tried to be religiously faithful to your drawing, while nevertheless taking the liberty of interpreting through the medium of colour the sober character and the style of the drawing in question. It is a synthesis of the Arlésiennes, if you like; as syntheses of the Arlésiennes are rare, take this as a work belonging to you and me as a summary of our months of work together. For my part I paid for doing it with another month of illness, but I also know that it is a canvas which will be understood by you, and by a very few others, as we would wish it to be understood. 

–

There are only about 100 people in the world who understand our music. George, Ringo, and a few friends around the world. Some of the artists who recorded our numbers have no idea how to interpret them. […] When Paul and I write a song, we try and take hold of something we believe in – a truth. We can never communicate 100 per cent of what we feel, but if we can convey just a fraction, we have achieved something. We try to give people a feeling – they don’t have to understand the music if they can just feel the emotion. This is half the reason the fans don’t understand, but they experience what we are trying to tell them. Lack of feeling in an emotional sense is responsible for the way some singers do our songs. They don’t understand, and are too old to grasp the feeling. Beatles are really the only people who can play Beatle music.

— John Lennon, Lennon & McCartney Interview for Flip Magazine (May 1966).

–

My friend Dr. Gachet here has taken to it altogether after two or three hesitations, and says, “How difficult it is to be simple.” Very well - I want to underline the thing again by etching it, then let it be. Anyone who likes can have it.

Have you also seen the olives? Meanwhile I have a portrait of Dr. Gachet with the heart-broken expression of our time. If you like, something like what you said of your “Christ in the Garden of Olives” not meant to be understood, but anyhow I follow you there, and my brother grasped that nuance absolutely.

[Here Vincent drew a sketch of the “Cypress with Star.”]

I still have a cypress with a star from down there, a last attempt - a night sky with a moon without radiance, the slender crescent barely emerging from the opaque shadow cast by the earth - one star with an exaggerated brilliance, if you like, a soft brilliance of pink and green in the ultramarine sky, across which some clouds are hurrying. Below, a road bordered with tall yellow canes, behind these the blue Basses Alpes, an old inn with yellow lighted windows, and a very tall cypress, very straight, very sombre.

On the road, a yellow cart with a white horse in harness, and two late wayfarers. Very romantic, if you like, but also Provence, I think.

— Road with Cypress and Star, by Vincent van Gogh.

I shall probably etch this and also other landscapes and subjects, memories of Provence, then I shall look forward to giving you one, a whole summary, rather deliberate and studied. My brother says that Lauzet, who does the lithographs after Monticelli, liked the head of the Arlésienne in question.

But you will understand that having arrived in Paris a little confused, I have not yet seen your canvases. But I hope to return for a few days soon.

[Here was drawn a sketch of “Ears of Wheat.”]

I’m very glad to learn from your letter that you are going back to Brittany with De Haan. It is very likely that - if you will allow me - I shall go there to join you for a month, to do a marine or two, but especially to see you again and make De Haan’s acquaintance. Then we will try to do something purposeful and serious, such as our work would probably have become if we had been able to carry on down there.

Look, here’s an idea which may suit you, I am trying to do some studies of wheat like this, but I cannot draw it - nothing but ears of wheat with green-blue stalks, long leaves like ribbons of green shot with pink, ears that are just turning yellow, lightly edged with the pale pink of the dusty bloom - a pink bindweed at the bottom twisted round a stem.

— Ears of Wheat, by Vincent van Gogh.

After this I would like to paint some portraits against a very vivid yet tranquil background. There are the greens of a different quality, but of the same value, so as to form a whole of green tones, which by its vibration will make you think of the gentle rustle of the ears swaying in the breeze: it is not at all easy as a colour scheme.

— Unfinished unsent letter from Vincent van Gogh to Paul Gauguin.

–

— Auvers-sur-Oise. — Sunday 27 July, a man named Van Gogh, 37, a Dutch fellow, painter, on his way through Auvers, shot himself in the fields and, being only wounded, returned to his room where he died two days later.

–

Here is what I know on his death.

That Sunday he went out immediately after breakfast, which was unusual. […] When we saw Vincent arrive night had fallen, it must have been about nine o'clock. Vincent walked bent, holding his stomach, again exaggerating his habit of holding one shoulder higher than the other. Mother asked him: “M. Vincent, we were anxious, we are happy to see you to return; have you had a problem?”

He replied in a suffering voice: “No, but I have…” he did not finish, crossed the hall, took the staircase and climbed to his bedroom. I was witness to this scene. Vincent made such a strange impression on us that Father got up and went to the staircase to see if he could hear anything.

He thought he could hear groans, went up quickly and found Vincent on his bed, laid down in a crooked position, knees up to the chin, moaning loudly: “What’s the matter,” said Father, “are you ill?” Vincent then lifted his shirt and showed him a small wound in the region of the heart. Father cried: “Malheureaux, [unhappy man] what have you done?”

“I have tried to kill myself,” replied Van Gogh.

[…]

Vincent had gone to the wheat field where he had painted previously […]. Vincent shot himself with a revolver and fainted. The freshness of the evening revived him. On all fours he sought the revolver to finish himself off, but could not find it (and it was not found the following day). Then Vincent gave up looking and came down the hill to regain our house.

[…]

In the morning of the following day, two gendarmes of the Méry brigade, probably alerted by a public rumour, appeared at the house. […] The gendarme then entered the room, and Rigaumon, always in the same tone, questioned Vincent: “Are you the one who wanted to commit suicide?”

- Yes, I believe, replies Vincent in his usual soft tone.

- You know that you do not have the right?

Always in the same even tone Van Gogh replied: “Gendarme, my body is mine and I am free to do what I want with it. Do not accuse anybody, it is I that wished to commit suicide.”

[…]

Theo arrived by train in the middle of the afternoon. I remember seeing him arrive, running. […] But his face was marked by sorrow. He immediately climbed up to his brother who he kissed and spoke to him in their native language. Father withdrew and did not help them. He did not go back in during the night. After the emotion that he had felt on seeing his brother, Vincent had fallen into a coma. Theo and my father kept watch on the casualty until his death, which occurred at one o'clock in the morning.

— Memoirs of Vincent Van Gogh’s stay in Auvers-sur-Oise (1956), by Adeline Ravoux (aged 76).

–

Paris, 5 August 1890

To say we must be grateful that he rests - I still hesitate to do so. Maybe I should call it one of the great cruelties of life on this earth and maybe we should count him among the martyrs who died with a smile on their face.

He did not wish to stay alive and his mind was so calm because he had always fought for his convictions, convictions that he had measured against the best and noblest of his predecessors. His love for his father, for the gospel, for the poor and the unhappy, for the great men of literature and painting, is enough proof for that. In the last letter which he wrote me and which dates from some four days before his death, it says, “I try to do as well as certain painters whom I have greatly loved and admired.” People should realize that he was a great artist, something which often coincides with being a great human being. In the course of time this will surely be acknowledged, and many will regret his early death. He himself wanted to die, when I sat at his bedside and said that we would try to get him better and that we hoped that he would then be spared this kind of despair, he said, “La tristesse durera toujours” [The sadness will last forever]. I understood what he wanted to say with those words.

A few moments later he felt suffocated and within one minute he closed his eyes. A great rest came over him from which he did not come to life again.

— Letter from Theo van Gogh to Elisabeth van Gogh.

–

Vincent van Gogh did not kill himself, the authors of new biography Van Gogh: The Life have claimed.

Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith say that, contrary to popular belief, it was more likely he was shot accidentally by two boys he knew who had “a malfunctioning gun”.

The authors came to their conclusion after 10 years of study with more than 20 translators and researchers.

It has long been thought that he shot himself in a wheat field before returning to the inn where he later died. 

[…]

But author Steven Naifeh said it was “very clear to us that he did not go into the wheat fields with the intention of shooting himself”.

“The accepted understanding of what happened in Auvers among the people who knew him was that he was killed accidentally by a couple of boys and he decided to protect them by accepting the blame.”

He said that renowned art historian John Rewald had recorded that version of events when he visited Auvers in the 1930s and other details were found that corroborated the theory.

They include the assertion that the bullet entered Van Gogh’s upper abdomen from an oblique angle - not straight on as might be expected from a suicide.

“These two boys, one of whom was wearing a cowboy outfit and had a malfunctioning gun that he played cowboy with, were known to go drinking at that hour of day with Vincent.

"So you have a couple of teenagers who have a malfunctioning gun, you have a boy who likes to play cowboy, you have three people probably all of whom had too much to drink.”

He said “accidental homicide” was “far more likely”.

“It’s really hard to imagine that if either of these two boys was the one holding the gun - which is probably more likely than not - it’s very hard to imagine that they really intended to kill this painter.”

Gregory White Smith, meanwhile, said Van Gogh did not “actively seek death but that when it came to him, or when it presented itself as a possibility, he embraced it”.

He said Van Gogh’s acceptance of death was “really done as an act of love to his brother, to whom he was a burden”.

— by Will Gompertz for BBC News (17 October 2011).

–

Now everybody seems to have their own opinion  Who did this and who did that  But as for me I don’t see how they can remember  When they weren’t where it was at 

–

For a long time I have wanted to write about Van Gogh, and I shall certainly do so some fine day when I am in the mood. I am going to tell you now a few rather timely things about him, or rather about us, in order to correct an error which has been going around in certain circles.

— In the introductory chapter of The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

I’d like to say this is just as I remember it, if it hurts anyone or any families of anyone who’ve got a different memory of it. Let me say first off, before you read this book even, that I loved John. Lest it be seen that I’m trying to do my own kind of revisionism, I’d like to register the fact that John was great, he was absolutely wonderful and I did love him. I was very happy to work with him and I’m still a fan to this day. So this is merely my opinion. I’m not trying to take anything away from him. All I’m saying is that I have my side of the affair as well, hence this book. When George Harrison wrote his life story I Me Mine, he hardly mentioned John. In my case I wouldn’t want to leave him out. John and I were two of the luckiest people in the twentieth century to have found each other. The partnership, the mix, was incredible. We both had submerged qualities that we each saw and knew. I had to be the bastard as well as the nice melodic one and John had to have a warm and loving side for me to stand him all those years. John and I would never have stood each other for that length of time had we been just one-dimensional.

— Paul McCartney, in the introduction of Many Years from Now.

–

All the rest everyone knows who has any interest in knowing it, and it would be useless to talk about it were it not for that great suffering of a man who, confined in a madhouse, at monthly intervals recovered his reason enough to understand and furiously paint the admirable pictures we know.

The last letter I had from him was dated from Anvers, near Pontoise. He told me that he had hoped to recover enough to come and join me in Brittany, but now was obliged to recognize the impossibility of a cure:

“Dear Master” (the only time he ever used this word), “after having known you and caused you pain, it is better to die in a good state of mind than in a degraded one.”

He sent a revolver shot into his stomach, and it was only a few hours later that he died, lying in his bed and smoking pipe, having complete possession of his mind, full of the love of his art and without hatred for others.

In Les Monstres Jean Dolent writes, “When Gauguin says ‘Vincent’ his voice is gentle.” Without knowing it but having guessed it, Jean Dolent is right.

You know why… .  .

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936).

–

At one point during the evening at the Waldorf-Astoria, McCartney answers a random question with, “No, I always felt much closer to John.” Out of the mouth of anyone else, “John” is just a name, a mere monosyllable. But when the name is uttered by McCartney, the ghostlike presence of John Lennon suddenly descends on the evening. Lennon’s name, so simply invoked by McCartney, takes on the power of a talisman, conjuring up an entire shared cultural scrapbook of images defining musical collaboration and the purest of camaraderie. McCartney owns the pronunciation of “John” the way Katharine Hepburn made “Spensah” Tracy her own.

— In the Paul McCartney interview The act you’ve known for all these years: McCartney today, by Andrew Marton for the Boston Globe (3 December 2000).

–

How long did we remain together? I couldn’t say, I have entirely forgotten. In spite of the swiftness with which the catastrophe approached, in spite of the fever of work that seized me, the time seemed to me a century. 

Though the public had no suspicion of it, two men were performing there a colossal work that was useful to them both. Perhaps to others? There are some things that bear fruit.

— The Intimate Journals of Paul Gauguin by Paul Gauguin (1936). 

–

[And amalgamation of often imperfect (and other times scary) parallels that possibly led John to compare his relationship with Paul to that of Vincent van Gogh and Paul Gauguin. An overly long self-indulgent post.]

More on the painters series:

The Surrealist | Lennon - McCartney & René Magritte

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

For A Sense Of Comfort

Summary: One-sided Dagcup. Dagur whump.(With a side of Momcup) Mala has been gone missing on sea and it's up to Hiccup to provide him with comfort. Whether he's willing or not. Post-RttE, Post-Httyd 2, disregards THW.

Rating: Teen and Up/(Mature?)

Words: 1 423

Author’s Notes: One-sided Dagcup. Dagur whump.(With a side of Momcup) that I wrote after a short conversation I had on a Httyd whump server on Discord. It’s filled with headcanons as well. And I attempted to really up the creep factor. Don’t know if I succeeded, but here you go.

Enjoy!

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

"We'll find her, Dagur. You know we will." Hiccup told him, the saddened figure sitting at the table in the near-empty Great Hall next to him.

There was a full and rather large mug of mead held in both of the Defenders of the Wing King's hands. His gaze was downcast and Hiccup hadn't been able to get a word out of him for hours now. A very unsettling thing since this wasn't just any ordinary man.

His title was once "The Deranged". And although Dagur tried so hard to turn over a new leaf some years ago and stay with this life, he could still be as unpredictable as he was before.

But everyone figured, Heather included, that one of the few people he'd listen to would be the young Chief of Berk. Even though Dagur and Hiccup didn't share the most pleasant history.

Despite living on two different islands and tribes and although one was a couple of years older than the other, they still grew up spending quite a bit of their childhoods together.

They weren't friends, however. Dagur had been a bully growing up, tormenting anybody he deemed a weak and easy target and Hiccup more than fit that description at the time.

"We care for Mala too, we won't stop until she's back with us safe and sound. If she's lost at sea, she'll be found. Alive. You know that, right?" Nothing Hiccup said to reassure him seemed to reach the silent man next to him.

But in spite of that and the fact that Dagur's bullying had turned into brief misplaced admiration and then into an obsession Dagur warred with Berk over, Hiccup was still the right person to attempt to console the inconsolable.

But that mattered little now that they were allies, he supposed. At the very least, Dagur thought they were close and maybe that's what they were. It was the reason Hiccup was considered the best man for the job, even now that his sister was in his life.

No, perhaps she had never been the right person. Despite everything done to him, Dagur had still done worse to her.

Either way, he wasn't getting any sort of reaction out of him. Hiccup figured that, perhaps, all Dagur needed was to be left alone.

He could always check up on him later, but Berk also needed him. Both the Vikings and the dragons. He wasn't just a Dragon Rider or Dagur's brother by heart, he was a Chief now as well.

"I'll give you some space to think, but I'll be back later. And, please, try not to worry. My Dragon Riders are out there, Heather is with them and so is the A-team. Mala and her ship will be found soon, Dagur." Hiccup reassured him one last time as he stood up, hand briefly hovered over the other man's shoulder before retreating.

He stayed there for a moment longer, waiting, and received no response this time either. So he went on his way.

"Hiccup."

Finally, Dagur spoke and he stopped him by grabbing hold of his wrist.

"Dagur?"

"Stay with me."

Dagur's voice was soft, but there was a hint in his tone that told Hiccup it wasn't easy for him to contain himself.

His grip was tight too. Too tight.

"Okay, than I'll stay-" Hiccup could barely tell Dagur his decision to stay a little bit longer before he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his middle with a hold so hard that it reminded him of the dragon traps that once littered Berk during times of war.

"Don't leave."

"Dagur, I already told you-"

"Don't leave."

His grip grew even tighter and Hiccup gasped. Though his air wasn't physically cut off, it made him feel like he was suffocating and trapped. He didn't know whether it was because he just didn't like to be touched by anyone other than the very few in his personal inner circle or because it was Dagur who was hugging him this hard.

Hiccup's gaze wandered over the Great Hall in slight panic as he placed his hands on Dagur's shoulders, but he noticed that the very last patrons of the hall had already left by now.

It was just the two of them.

"Dagur!" His discomfort grew tenfold.

He wanted to be let go of by now.

He wanted Toothless.

"Don't leave me like everybody else did. Please, don't." Hiccup stopped his struggling, however weak it already was, and cursed his compassion and empathy for others.

This wasn't a side he had seen before. This Dagur, so vulnerable and weak and in need of comfort, was new to him.

It wasn't his job to be there for Dagur. He didn't owe him anything, not after all the scars this particular King was personally responsible for.

And yet...

Hiccup quietly cursed himself.

He somehow managed to sit back down, causing the Berserker to kneel on the floor in front of him, between his legs. His arms hadn't left his middle at all.

Dagur's eyes were closed, his head pressed into his chest. He didn't seem to mind the many belts keeping his complicated outfit together.

Ironically enough, this outfit and the flight suit that had come before it, they were both created specifically against people like Dagur.

The complexity, the many layers, they were to help him feel protected, secure, even when Toothless, Astrid, Eret, any of his loved ones weren't there to keep him safe.

It failed.

He was on Berk, surrounded by tons of people who would come to his rescue. One shout and countless of dragons would be ready to breathe fire and any who dared to harm him.

He couldn't be any safer and even then...

His heart was beating up a storm inside his chest. He could barely think straight or remain calm. His body was tense and shook all over. If Dagur's embrace could grow even any tighter, Hiccup wondered if it did or if it was just his imagination.

He silently breathed in and out deeply to keep his level-head.

It's been years since their turbulent childhood, the war and the new kinds of fears Dagur had introduced him to.

Hiccup thought he had gotten over this long ago.

He felt like a defenseless teenage boy facing a much larger opponent all over again.

"It's-it's okay, Dagur. It's gonna be okay." He wasn't sure what kind of role Dagur wanted him to play. But Dagur's touch, it still send discomforting chills down Hiccup's spine. Being hugged by him, his grip unyielding, his face pressed into his middle, it was unpleasant.

Hiccup wanted him to let go.

He wanted him to let go so badly.

But he also knew, ever since Hiccup first pretended to save his life when they were boys, pretended to be his protector, there were certain things Dagur expected from him. Obligations everybody had always insisted were never Hiccup's to fulfil, whatever they were and for whichever relationship Dagur seemed to consciously, or subconsciously, think they have.

But here he was, being that figure Dagur wanted him to be. Whoever it was.

In spite of the trauma and the awkwardness, Hiccup was still there. Like he had always been in the Berserker's mind.

Dagur wasn't quite right in the head. He never had been.

Now Hiccup wondered whether he was sane himself.

"Hiccup-"

"We're going to get her back. You know we will." He felt himself shiver, but his trembling arms hesitantly settled around the Berserker to give him a comforting hug. A caring hug. A loving gesture mixed with hidden fear and even... loathing.

Hiccup didn't know for who.

Dagur seemed to nuzzle even closer, allowing himself a sigh of relief. Hiccup was sure he could hear his heart beat even faster, with his ear pressed up to his chest like that. And was he smiling?

"I know, Hiccup. I know." Dagur muttered and decided to rest his head on his lap. Hiccup let himself ease up just a bit.

But just a tiny bit. Because that tight grip finally relenting did not mean he could actually relax.

Dagur had settled on his lap. That ultimately meant they would be here for a while. And Hiccup supposed, his moment to escape had come and gone some time ago.

Hiccup didn't owe him anything. That's everybody kept telling him after word had reached them of Queen Mala's ship going missing with her and her crew with it.

So why did he still feel owned?

[survivingthejungle]

hopeless wanderer iii—vikings

You got home without so much as a bump in the road and immediately took care of dressing yourself before anyone else. “Listen to me,” you whispered harshly before leaving to the bathroom to change. “Nobody breathes until I get back.” You had been joined by Ivar, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ubbe, of course; they were your original “tour group”. But then two others had surprised you when they asked to tag along— Bjørn, and the man himself, Ragnar. You allowed them, of course, because the more the merrier, but it also meant that getting enough clothes to make all of them blend in would be nothing short of a nightmare. “I’m gonna go see if my parents are still home.” They all nodded and you crept down the stairs to scope out the first floor only to find your mother about to walk out the front door. “Are you about to leave without telling me bye?” you asked her, nearly giving her a heart attack.

“Oh my God! (Y/N)! You scared the hell out of me,” she gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “I thought you were still asleep. Sorry, hon.” You hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Bye bye, lovey-dovey.”

“Bye, Mama. Love you.” With that she was out the door, and you and your Viking friends finally could move about freely. You knew your father wasn’t home because he typically left to work at about 5 A.M., and it was at least 8 currently. You watched through the peephole in the front door until her car left the driveway before calling upstairs. “You can come down now! My mom just left!” A band of footsteps swiftly followed—except for Ivar, who was aided by Hvit and Ubbe— and they all joined you at the bottom of the staircase.

“You live in a castle!” Hvitserk exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a house this big. Is your family royalty?”

“Oh, absolutely not. No such thing as ‘royalty’ around here,” you reminded them. “My parents just have pretty decent jobs, so we make enough money to live comfortably. This is a pretty average house compared to the rest.”

“I would like one of these houses,” Ubbe mused, looking around at everything he could see.

“Are y’all hungry?” you asked them, already walking towards the kitchen.

“Will you make us those sweets from yesterday?” Hvit asked you, pushing through his brothers to get next to you.

“No. I’ll make breakfast. Cookies are for after dinner,” you mildly scolded like a mother would a child. “If you guys want eggs I can do that. Or waffles, or bacon, or whatever. Whatever you want.”

“Next time you come back to Kattegat, (Y/N),” Ivar piped up from the floor—I really need to grab that wheelchair—, “We might not let you go.” He said it in the tone of a joke, but part of you knew he could also be serious. “You cook for us and give us clean clothes and know the future; I might make you my wife.”

Sigurd scoffed. “Yeah, and then what?” His brother shot him a hardened glare; it was obvious there was some deep, unresolved tension between them.

“Attitude. Sigurd, stop. Ivar, shut up. I’m not marrying anyone anytime soon; end of story, thank you!” You opened up the fridge door, indicating for them to take seats either at the kitchen table or the island. You grabbed a carton of eggs, milk, butter, cheese; pretty much anything you could use in breakfast foods. From the pantry you brought out waffle mix, oatmeal, and cereal, and found the waffle iron and skillet in a different drawer. After setting everything out on the counter, you turned to open the door to the basement. “‘Kay, breakfast is coming in a minute. I’ll be right back!” you called, already halfway down the steps.

It took a few moments, but you finally found where your mom’s old wheelchair had been stashed away and hauled it back upstairs. “Someone help me get this thing set up,” you suggested to no one in particular. Ragnar and Bjørn were the closest to you, so they got up to help. After stabilizing the wheels and locking the leg rests into place, you wheeled it over to Ivar and they followed, ready to get him settled. It took a minute or so, but they managed to get him seated and you got his legs propped up into place. “Do you wanna give it a test run?” you asked him. He looked at you blankly, clearly not understanding. “You can try to move it yourself, if you want. Just push the wheels.” The three of you backed away from him as he tested it out, rolling himself forward a couple feet.

“This is amazing!” he exclaimed, grinning at you. You smiled back, glad to be able to help your new friend.

“Ya think you can turn it?” You let him try to figure it out on his own, and after a couple fumbles, he managed to turn his direction to the right. “Nice!” You paused. “To make it easier though, we can just push you around for today. You can work on self-propulsion later.” Everyone nodded in understanding and you returned to your post in the kitchen, ready to get cookin’.

They fell into what you assumed was normal morning conversation for them, but you paid little attention to the words being exchanged. You were too focused on trying not to let anything burn; you were working on multiple dishes at once and couldn’t be watching them all at the same time, after all. You were only one girl. You heard the echo of your name and looked up from the eggs you had scrambling on a skillet. It was Ubbe trying for your attention.

“What are we doing today?” he asked you. “What is part of this ‘visit’ you are taking us on?”

“Oh! I’m so glad you asked!” you responded, taking the eggs off of the heat and attempting to deposit them evenly among the seven plates in front of you. “First order of business, I say we get coffee. There’s a little cafe in town—it’s my favorite—, and then we can… probably…” you trailed off, trying to think of how else you could fill the time. “Oh, my mom needed me to go grocery shopping,” you remembered, glancing at the credit card taped to a post-it note on the fridge. “So we can do that. And then we can go to the park! My friends and I are meeting there today to play soccer for a little bit. You can watch; or we can teach you if you want!”

“What… what is that?” Bjørn asked.

“Soccer?” He nodded. “It’s a sport, like a game. You— you’ll get it when you see it,” you assured him. You were also half-busy piling chocolate chip waffles onto everyone’s plates, so your explanation wasn’t necessarily adequate.

“You said your friends will be there?” Hvitserk asked you. You nodded and gave an mmh-hm. “How are you going to explain... us?”

“Oh, wow, good question,” you pondered. You racked through ideas in your head for a moment until a decent solution came to you: “Family friends. I’ll just say your family’s friends with mine because of business and stuff. And you’re visiting from Norway. Problem solved.” You walked around to everyone, handing out plates and silverware; and when you had finished doing that you brought them orange juice. Finally finished serving them—that sounded downgrading— you seated yourself on the kitchen counter and dug into your breakfast. After the first few bites, Bjørn broke the silence.

“This is delicious! What is it?” he asked, mouth stuffed and eyes wide.

“Chocolate chip waffles! Aren’t they great?” He nodded, taking another bite. You had drizzled syrup onto everyone’s just to ensure that they were extra sweet.

“Please, never stop bringing food for us,” Ragnar laughed. “This is much better than what we have in Kattegat.”

“That’s the beauty of the twenty-first century, my friend.” An idea crossed your mind. “Speaking of which…” you glanced at Ivar. “Hey, Google!” They looked at you like you had two heads. “Good morning!” The confused stares continued until the ‘assistant’ responded.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” the robotic voice responded. The stares of your friends intensified about tenfold as the robot continued to speak. “The weather today will be sunny, a high of seventy with a ten percent chance of rain. There is no traffic on the highway this morning. You have no new reminders.”

“Cool,” you said, more for yourself than for the robot’s sake. “Hey Google? What are diseases that make your bones weak?” Ivar looked at you with suspicion in his eyes; he knew you were asking because of him, but he wasn’t sure what your goal was.

“Here are some diseases with the symptom ‘weak bones’: low bone density, osteoporosis, osteogenesis imperfecta—”

“What’s osteogenesis imperfecta?” you asked, interrupting the list.

“Also called ‘brittle bone disease.’ A group of inherited disorders characterized by fragile bones that break easily.”

Ivar’s eyes widened along with the rest of his brothers and his father. “That’s me!” he told you excitedly, “That’s what I have!” He was grinning; he looked like a puppy.

“Then that’s what we’ll tell people you have, if anyone asks,” you responded. You smiled back at him. You weren’t expecting to help them make a big life discovery today, but you were glad that it had turned out that way.

—

You had a car full of ninth century Vikings in your car within the next hour, all wearing clothes that you had lent them from your dad’s closet. In the passenger seat was Hvitserk, followed by Ivar and Ubbe in the middle two seats; Sigurd, Bjørn, and Ragnar were sitting in the back three seats. You’d had to teach them all how to put on a seatbelt, and once that fiasco had been dealt with, you started the car up and connected your speaker system to the music on your phone. “Where is that coming from?” asked Sigurd,”Where are the instruments? Who’s playing this music?”

“It’s coming from my phone. I don’t really get how it works, either, but it’s going through the speakers in my car; there’s not actually anyone playing it right now.” He nodded as if he understood; it was obvious he didn’t, but he pretended to anyways.

The song in question was Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks, one of your favorite songs in the world. It was playing at medium volume, but you were in the mood to scream-sing along.

The weather had been beautiful that day. It was the middle of summer, it was warm outside, and the sun was shining. You rolled all the windows down and grabbed your sunglasses off of the hook on your sun visor, sliding them onto your head before cranking the volume up—not too loud, you didn’t know how sensitive they’d be to the noise, but a noticeable amount higher. Your eyes were trained on the road, like any good driver, but when you glanced to your side or in your rearview mirrors, you could see the awe written on their expressions because they’d never had an experience like this before. “How are you moving this?” Hvit asked you, voice slightly raised above the music and the hum of the wind.

“Gasoline!” You told him, not looking too far away from the road ahead of you. You were a fast driver. That isn’t to say you were going sixty miles above the speed limit, because you were still getting out of your neighborhood; but you were definitely going about forty in a fifteen zone. “Are we having fun?”

Ivar, clearly, was not. “This is worse than being at sea,” he groaned, looking like he was going to be carsick.

“Ooh. Sorry. I’ll slow up.” You let off the gas and slowed down, turning the music down as well and turning up the A.C. for him. “Better?”

“Yes.”

“Damnit, Ivar, why do you always ruin everything?” Sigurd was explicitly pissed off at his brother, which was not too unusual. Before the fight could escalate you shut it down.

“Hey! Shut up. If he’s feeling sick I’m not gonna just let him throw up in my car. Get over it. And stop fighting, Jesus! You two are acting like children! Be mature!” They both glared at each other, and then Sigurd glared at you through the rearview mirror. You’d had enough of their bickering, and his attitude. “Sigurd, I will turn this car around and march you all straight back to where you came from. Don’t make me regret this.”

Ragnar, Bjørn, Hvitserk, and Ubbe erupted into laughter. They’d never seen either of the boys ever put into place like that, especially not by a woman who wasn’t their mother. They couldn’t’ve been more amused.

“You will have my boys trained like dogs in no time with that attitude,” Ragnar laughed. You couldn’t help but chuckle with the rest of them. A few minutes passed by, filled by your singing along to your music while the Vikings looked around their new surroundings, fascinated. You pulled into the parking lot outside of the coffee shop.

“We’re here! My favorite place in the world. Do you guys ha— well, no I guess you wouldn’t. Who wants to try coffee today?”

“What is it?” Bjørn asked you.

“A drink. It’s made from coffee beans and it gives you energy. But it is a bit of an acquired taste, so you might not like it at first.”

“It sounds strange,” Hvit noted.

“It is. But I love it. I’ll just get two drinks and you all can try it and see if you like it,” you said, opening your door and getting out of the car, keys, phone, and wallet in hand. The Vikings managed to unbuckle themselves after a few moments and followed after you. You grabbed the wheelchair out of the back for Ivar and he Ragnar got him situated. When you walked in, it was relatively calm and quiet, and you sincerely hoped not to disturb the peace— or rather, you hoped that they wouldn’t disturb the peace. A few heads turned to observe the six gigantic men trailing after a young girl, but you paid them no mind. The Vikings looked all around the building, very confused by it all. You told them you’d tell them all about it once you were seated—outside, so that no one heard you. You ordered two iced caramel lattes from the barista, paid her, and waited for your drinks to be prepared. “I ordered them cold, because it’s too hot outside to be drinking hot coffee, in my opinion. And I got it flavored so it isn’t too bitter for you all. …I hope.”

It wasn’t a busy day so your drinks were ready soon after, and you popped the straws in before handing one to whoever was closest to you, who happened to be Ivar. He looked up at you blankly before grabbing the cup from your hand. He eyed it for a moment, took a sip, and grimaced. “I don’t know if I like it or not.”

Hvitserk rolled his eyes. “Give it to me. Make your mind up.” He took a sip, considered it, then took another. “It’s...good, but very strange.” The rest of the boys all tried it, didn’t know how to feel about it, then tried it again. Your favorite comment came straight from the man himself, Ragnar:

“I want to hate it, but… I like it.”

“See what I mean? Acquired taste. Anyone wanna finish it?”

Hvitserk grabbed it. “Yeah, I’ll drink it.” You chuckled.

Back in the car, you grabbed the shopping list your mom gave you and read over it for a moment. Hvit remained in the passenger seat and looked over your arm, trying to get a look at the list as well. You showed it to him. “Can you even read this?”

He stared at it for a few seconds before shaking his head. “No. What language is that?”

“English. But—” Ivar interrupted you.

“I can speak the Saxons’ language. Give it to me, I will read,” he demanded.

“You aren’t going to be able to read this, but I guess you can try,” you relented, and handed the list back to him. He flipped it around a couple times before handing it back. “That is not English.”

“Yes it is. But, as I was about to say, it’s not the same English that you know. The language has evolved over the past thousand years, and so has the writing.” You had pulled out of the parking lot and were now on the highway to where the nearest supermarket was.

Ubbe spoke up. “Where are we headed now?”

“The store, to go grocery shopping. It’s like a market, except everything is all sold in one place, and you buy it from the store, and not from another person.”

“That seems stupid. Where does the money go?” asked Bjørn.

“The people who own the stores. And the people who work there, but they don’t get as much as they should. You’re right, it is stupid; but it’s how the Western world does things.”

The closer you got to the store, the less keen you were on bringing six ancient Vikings to your local Kroger. You’d stick out like a sore thumb with them all trailing behind them, regardless of whether or not they were dressed to blend. And you couldn’t send them off to fetch items for you, they couldn’t read and they probably wouldn’t know what to look for, anyways!

You pulled into the parking lot and found a spot, putting the worries to the back of your mind. Get over it, (Y/N), this is your life now. You gave them all a warming before anyone get out of the car. “First thing: Automatic doors. There’s a wall of glass at the front that’s gonna open when you get close to it. Don’t let it freak you out. Second thing: absolutely no eating the groceries until they’re bought. Just… follow me and don’t act weird. Try to blend in.”

[drunk-snail]

Hijack Week June 2019 Day 3 : Body swap

Summary : Land of the Vikings, in addition to not remembering what he had done the day before, the spirit of fun finds itself with a big problem when he wakes up.

On the rare occasions when the spirit of fun slept, he used to do it on the roofs of houses, or in trees. As for eating, he didn't need it to live, he did it rather to pass time when the boredom was too present and no one was awake. So waking up in a cozy, warm bed and not remembering the day before had left him somewhat confused. But if it was the only thing. He noticed two things once he was standing up and his eyes were wide open. He was producing heat, but above all, he was missing a leg. He shouted at this discovery. He looked at his hands,large, tanned, freckled. Panicked, there, right away, he needed anything that would allow him to see his reflection. A basin of water was precisely not far from him and he ran towards it with difficulty, falling down, not at all accustomed to this missing leg, to stare at himself and discover a head that did not belong to him. He touched his hair, ears, nose, cheeks and then exclaimed: -Am I dreaming? -Hiccup, are you all right? Jack turned to the female voice that had just entered the room and saw a middle-aged woman come forward as well as a black dragon with jade eyes. Who was he, and these people, and where was he? He hesitated for a moment. Should he lie, or should he tell the truth? If he told the truth, everyone would think he was crazy, but if he lied, people would soon find it suspicious? Nevertheless, he chose the second option. After all, everything was going to be fine, and inside he was praying that the life of the host he owned would not be complex. He therefore articulated: -A nightmare! He rubbed his head as the woman approached him, and lowered herself to his height. Was she his mother? -I dreamt that. . . my body had become a giant centipede and that it was being. . . pierced from all sides. . . -It's rather unusual coming from you, would it have anything to do with what you did yesterday? -Yesterday? He tried to remember, but nothing could be done, he could not do it. -I. . . What happened? I have no memory of yesterday. -We were hoping you would tell us. You disappeared in the morning. It was only after dark that Astrid and toothless found you tied to a tree and unconscious. We've all been worried sick about you! She took him in her arms. Jack's heart missed a beat, he was both confused by this act and happy to have the warmth that had been embracing him since he had been born on these snow-covered lands. And for the second time he didn't know who he was. What was the person's body in wich his soul was linked? And how did it get tied? It annoyed him. If you want to have a human body, you might as well start all over again and be born into a family. Not steal the body from a guy with a weird name. But most of all, he wanted people to believe in him. Nevertheless, he put his arms around this woman and hugged her back, enjoying the moment. -Are you sure everything's okay? Are you hurt anywhere? -It's fine, just fatigue and. . . confusion. -Rest again then, I know it's a little fast, but the chiefs of the other islands are supposed to arrive in the evening. Jack had a big doubt about what he was going to say and dared to ask when he stopped hugging. -What's the program again? -Meeting between chief, and you know very well that you have no right to miss it, despite what happened. "I AM A CHIEF?" he shouted inwardly, trying to remain neutral on the surface. Finally, he should perhaps have said that he was in trouble, or that he had completely lost his memory, preventing any encounter. Chief. He was chief. Of the millions of people who existed, it had to be in the body of a guy who was a leader. Not even a kid who could have fun and do everything he wanted, but a leader. Goodbye freedom, hello responsibility. Ooooh, no. That was impossible. Not him, and especially not in his condition. And above all, how could this person be the leader? He had nothing like the appearance of the other Viking leaders he had seen. He was fine, of course, but that wasn't the point. He looked nothing like a Viking chieftain, but rather like the fragile man who would get killed in less than two seconds in battle. He had to flee this body as soon as possible and find his own. He felt very uncomfortable with and all the responsibilities that was placed on his shoulders. He pretended to yawn, trying to be convincing in his comedy. -You're right, I'll sleep for a while longer. After all, I have to. . . be in great shape! -It'll be fine, don't be stressed. Jack just smiled at her and she helped him to get up and walked him to his bed. When she left with the dragon, Jack Frost thought about it as hard as he could, thinking about how to get away without being noticed but above all, where could his own body be? If "Hiccup" was in his body, he must be as lost as he was. Maybe he was looking for him too? But he had never seen this village before, would he be able to find it? He couldn't just sit back and do nothing. He had to find himself and as soon as possible. As he was tying up his spare leg, he thought of another detail that could be problematic. No one could see his real body. So, did he have to believe in himself, or in “Hiccup"? His skull was hurting him with all of this thinking. However, he had to admit it, that was something new, but he wasn’t sure that was for the best. A long-standing reflex, he wanted to fly away but crashed into the ground instead. This body was really not practical on that point. Fortunately for him, no one heard his fall and he practiced to walk properly with this mechanical leg. It wasn't painful, it was just really strange. Even if wearing a shoe was even weirder. God, he hated it. But he was cold and knew he wouldn't last long without it, outside. He dressed warmly and put on a hooded cape to hide his face. If someone saw the “chief" of the village, he was sure he couldn't walk around as he pleased. Ironically, he hoped no one would notice him. At least not his people. Through one of the windows of the house, he escaped, falling into the snow but holding back a cry of pain in order not to be noticed before running as quickly as possible into the forest. After walking in it for a few minutes, getting lost, he took off his hood, putting a hand through his hair, releasing the brown wick that blocked his view of the sky. This day was really different. He looked at his hand and carried it back to his face. It was still warm and the feeling was pleasant. He would have loved it if someone had laid a hand on his original body. He had to find himself. He took a few steps and then stopped again. And if he didn't find himself? If his original body didn't exist anymore, what would he do? Would he try this life as a leader? He didn't want to think about it, but what if it was really an opportunity for him to experience happiness by being human? He still considered himself an impostor. He filled his lungs and shouted the name of the village chief, desperately trying to get him to come to him. but only the wind answered him. After a few hours of tearing his lungs out, he gave up for today. He didn't like it, but it was better to look good in front of others and avoid a new fear in those around him. And with the leaders of the other clans, he thought he would see for himself, hoping that there is not a particularly important role to play either. As he went out, he discreetly snuck into the house, but someone was sitting on his bed. He thought he was in trouble and should explain to this person, but came face to face with himself. Without a word, the two men exchanged a look full of surprise. Hiccup got up from the bed and walked to him, stopping a few steps away and then put his hand on his face. His hand was frozen and made him shiver. He grabbed him and squeezed him, watching him. That moment was really strange. He lifted his head up, looking at his own eyes and everything became clear in his mind. He remembers yesterday's day. The village chief tied to a tree, a witch speaking in a foreign language, and he who interferes and freezes the enemy who still had time to cast a spell, a strange sensation that itches and then faints. But now that he had remembered how it happened, a new question came into their minds. How do we get back to normal?                                                                     ~ ~ ~

End, kisses and goodbye ! No, seriously, sorry I'm late for the challenge. at first, having lots of ideas in mind for the challenge of the week, I wanted to draw, but my tablet and my computer absolutely didn't agree. Either it turns off, or it doesn't work, in short, the total pain in the ass. So writing was easier, but my boyfriend having work and fatigue, I wasn't going to bother him to do the translation quickly. Thanks to him for doing it, by the way ♡ Another fiction will come out for the challenge, but it will take a little time. Sorry again, and thank you for reading ! ♡

[foxydivaxx]

Septette for the Dead Prince Chapter 8: Turn Back The Pendulum

This will shed some light on Aogiri’s past. Trigger warning: rape mention

“T-There is something that has been disturbing me for the past couple years and I feel it is time to get it off my chest. The boys are also part of this as well.”

The Titans stare at the rest of Aogiri who all nod and get up. “I guess there is no other way around this,” says Kaneki.

“Yeah but is it really advisable that you do what it is I think you are about to do?” asks Lelouch.

Dick has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean?”

“Well....Eren here is going to show you what it is that we are talking about. However, a little heads up. This ain’t for the fainthearted.” Ichigo warns.

“No worries. We are all used to stuff,” says Rachel. The other Titans shoot her confused glances. Eren simply sighs. This is perhaps the hardest decision that he has had to make. Well not just him, the entire group as well as they all went back and forth on it several times and only recently decided to finally tell the Titans. The only question now is how would they take it?

“Right, let’s go,” says Eren. He then closes his eyes and using his powers, teleports them to a now deserted island with ancient Greek and Viking ruins.

“Wait...did you just...” says Garfield. Eren smiles a bit. “Yup. I teleported us here.” It was then that Sick began to realize something. “Just like your AOT character...”

Eren chuckles softly. “Yeah but Attack on Titan only told the world only half of the truth, the truth the others wanted to hear. That is why I brought you all here. To explain the truth to you.”

Rachel then gasps. “So that story is true!! All that stuff happened...” Eren then looks down and nods. “Yes. The monster being portrayed there was me. But like I said, there is more. This place I brought us to is the ruins of the land once called Eldia.”

The Titans gasped. “Oh my....” Lelouch nods. “About 3000 years ago, this land was given to Queen Makaria better known as Carla Jaeger years ago by Lord Hades as a wedding gift after she married Prince Adrian of Athens, Eren’s father who became the first King of Eldia.”

The gang then see what appeared to be past ghosts of several key figures, including Eren’s parents. Eren smiles sadly once he sees the vision of his baby self. Dick and Kory notice this and each takes one of his hands, a gesture that deeply warmed his heart.

“The nine of us were Eren’s bodyguards and best friends and also his cousins for all of us save for 3 were children of the Muses,” says Rin. “Also we were princes from different Kingdoms too.” says Natsu.

“Which says a lot about your talents,” says Rose. The boys grinned as they watched their younger selves run around, singing, dancing and just have fun.

“However, a dark shadow hung over us and that dark shadow was none other than Melinoe, Eren’s aunt and Queen Makaria’s sister.” said Natsu.

“The witch was jealous that her sister was more popular than she was and decided to destroy whatever happiness she had by first having her husband killed and plunging them into war and darkness and hurt Eren the Crown Prince.”

“Wait....but I thought Zeke was the older sibling.” Says Rose. “Nah. Eren is the true firstborn.”

Eren looks down, tears flowing down his eyes as he watches the witch kill his father in front of his young inexperienced self.

“I....I was forced to become King on that day but...I failed...plus....t-that witch did something terrible to me.”

The gang was horrified by what they saw next. Prior to Eldia’s destruction, the evil witch tortured and defiled the poor Prince. Days later, The Kingdom of Eldia is set ablaze as Viking warriors similar to the ones that enslaved Ymir Fritz years later, laid waste to the entire Kingdom and massacred thousands.

Rachel was in tears as she saw this, prompting Garfield to comfort her whilst Jason, Conner and Rose are disgusted by this.

Aogiri’s past selves led by Eren head to battle whilst Armin, Jean, and Connie; the three boys that would eventually walk out of the group stayed in the Palace to protect the Princesses with Zeke.

“The three traitors that walked out of the group were also traitors as they slaughtered Eren’s siblings,” says Rin.

Everyone grimaced when they saw Jean, Connie and Armin stab and kill Eren’s siblings. “Those bastards!!” says Dick.

Back on the battlefield, Melinoe and Makaria engage in one last duel. “I will make you pay for what you did to my husband you witch!!” Makaria yelled as her sword clashes with her sister’s.

Melinoe simply cackles. “It is too late!!” She sends her sister’s sword flying and without hesitation, she stabs her sister straight in the heart, killing her.

“NO!!!” Eren’s ancient self screams and drops to his knees, tears in his eyes.

Dick and Kory both show concern for Eren who simply looks away.

The evil witch then heads off to the Temple of Hades to carry out one more diabolical act. “Now that those fools are out of the way, might as well steal the power of Father dearest from here.”

“Not so fast!!”

She whips around to see Eren and his friends stand in front of her. “Ah!! If it isn’t the cowardly Prince and his friends.”

“He is not a coward!!” Lelouch shouts back at her, his eyes glowing red with anger. Eren simply shoots a death glare at her. “Less talk, more action.” Without hesitation, they proceed to attack.

Natsu shoots a fire blast whilst Naruto sends a pool of water at her but the witch teleports out of the way. Ichigo and Izuku come down, trying to hit her with lightning and wind blasts but she blocks it and throws both boys aside.

Luffy punches the earth beneath him and kicks some rocks at her which again she blocks whilst Rin tries using a light attack but it fails and she sends him flying with a dark magical blast and also kicks Luffy in the gut.

Lelouch and Kaneki charge towards the witch, Lelouch trying to freeze her whilst Kaneki tries to use his telepathy. Unfortunately for them, the woman stops their attacks and uses her telepathy to send them flying back, causing them to hit the others.

“Now where is the Prince?” she asked. Before she could say anything, she gasps and coughs out blood as Eren stabs her. “It’s over witch.” he says.

She smirks evilly. “Or is it?!” Unfortunately for Eren, the one that he stabbed was just a fske clone. The real deal shows up and proceeds to use all of her magical powers to not only kill the boys but also to destroy what was left of Eldia, sacrificing even her soldiers.

“What a monster.” says Kory.

“Are you satisfied?” Melinoe turns around to see her mother Persephone. She then panics. “I...I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU!!”

“You didn’t. You did however destroyed the rest of Olympus including your own father because of your greed.”

“What?! How is it possible for anyone to destroy Hades?!” said Rachel. “Only the witch would know.”

“You gave away my birthright to that bratty sister of mine!!” she argued. “And for your sins, I hereby cast you to the dark pits of Tartarus!!” Melinoe screams as she is teleported to Tartarus.

“That child went overboard. Even Ares at his worst won’t go this far.” Persephone turns around to see Hecate. “Nice to see you Lady Hecate.” she says with a bow.

The Goddess sighed. “We have one heck of a mess to clean up.” She then turns to Eren’s corpse.

“If she hadn’t attacked, that boy would have grown to be great. Not because of any prophecy but rather because he was born into this world.”

“There would still be war and conflict and corruption in this world.” says Persephone. “A reflection or the politics of the gods. It is just how life itself is. Something so complex even we the gods do not often understand it.” Says Hecate.

“And in the midst of such darkness, there shall be light.” Persephone adds. The elder goddess nods. “I believe that we should allow the children to decide their destiny once we begin anew.” And with that, everyone gets reincarnated once again.

Meanwhile in Tartarus, the evil Melinoe struggles to break free from her chains. Angered that the gods somehow managed to ruin her plans, she utters a very terrifying curse. 

“Mark my words Makaria!! You and your people shall never know peace!! The Eldians shall be destroyed by one of your children!!! And another shall be so hated that the world shall mark him as a demon regardless of his good deeds!!”

“Holy shit!” says Jason. Rachel gasped. “Now I really want to punch the shit out of that bitch when I see her!!” says Conner.

“All nine of us were separated through time and space and thrown into different worlds until that great Eldian War where Eren sacrificed himself by playing a demonic character which went against his morales. Something I can relate to because I did a similar thing too.” says Lelouch.

“Let’s be honest. All nine of us were forced to play demons for the sake of saving humanity because the worlds we were raised in brought out our inner darkness.” says Ichigo. “I am shocked that the gods did not punish us.” says Rin. “They kind of did by making Eren go on a 12 Labours journey as atonement once he got reincarnated in this current world and us being the loyal boys that we are, we went along for the ride.” says Izuku.

Eren simply hugs Dick and breaks down in tears. Dick pulls him closer and hugs him tight with Kory joining in for support. “It’s ok Eren. You will regain your happiness again.” 

“Is it me or are the cowards a bunch of cowards?” says Conner. “Yeah why do all the demigods have to suffer for them?” says Rose. “Melinoe somehow scared the shit out of them but she isn’t supposed to....”

“Unless some other god or powerful being on that same level is aiding her behind the scenes but who?” says Natsu. “There is only guy that I could think of and he is someone we collectively hate.” says Eren.

The mysterious man he speaks of is ironically locked in a secret meeting with Melinoe in a secret lab. “So those children have recovered their memories huh?” says the man. Melinoe simply sighs. “Unfortunately.” He nods. “I see. Still they better be prepared for they will not know what is about to hit them for I have a secret weapon .” he says, pointing at a tube that had the body of a certain young Amazon.

Notice the powers that they all have. Which Kpop group does this remind you all of?

[andrewmoocow]

Fooly Falls 2 chapter 4: Mechanica Melody (originally posted on April 19, 2019)

AN: We're getting close to the end everyone! Though unfortunately just like the previous three chapters, real life might get in the way of the story, but I still really hope I can get this out during spring break. Anyway, here comes Chapter 4 to really turn this summer on its head and send everything straight down to Hell from here on out. ZKHQ D OLWWOH JLUO QRUPDOOB GRZQKHDUWHG VXGGHQOB JHWV D FKHHUIXO DFW VWDUWHG, KHU IDPLOB DQG IULHQGV WUB WR VDYH WKH GDB EXW VRRQ HYHUBWKLQJ ZLOO ORVH WKHLU ZDB.

A suddenly more cheerful Gwen began skipping down the street to the shock of passerby's who were so used to seeing a frown on her face, which was now replaced with a big goofy smile. "If you ask us, I have a feeling it must be puberty kicking in early. It can do crazy thing with your emotions!" Juan theorized while he and Jorge were being interviewed, and his brother agreed with a nod. "When we came back from the island, I was kinda freaked out by how she was acting." Wendy explained worriedly. "Last time I saw her this perky was before she got that weirdo hat of hers. But hey, at least she looks positively adorable when she's happy!" "Whoa, it's a chopper! GET TO THE CHOPPAH!" Gwen peppily exclaimed spotting a helicopter hovering over her. "The whole world is turning upside down, I can just feel it!" "I'm so pissed off, I can't stand it!" Haruko snarled in frustration stomping her foot. "And it's all because of that shitty hat!" "It's an emergency measure installed by Medical Mechanica. The change in personality is most likely a side-effect." Jinyu remarked. "Or so Jinyu, Dipper and I have guessed. We cannot know for certain, unless we can head to the source." Ford added adjusting his glasses. "What do you think, does doing this with my glasses make me look cool?" "Oh, the iron!" Gwen chirped spying the abandoned Medical Mechanica plant towering over the town. "Also known as the WORLD SMOOTHER!" "I don't know which is more bizarre, this or the mutant raccoon that moved in with Ezra & Candy." Leia commented. "Last I heard from them, Ezra didn't want to show his face in public after Bawuu murdered a baby squirrel by chopping down a tree for literally no reason." With a loud cackle, the little girl kicked down the entrance to the Mystery Shack and loudly greeted her friends. "HOW DO YOU DO FELLOW KIDS?!" she hollered. "HEEEEERE'S GWENNIE, HERE TO START THE DAY!" "As much as I like Gwen not being so down in the dumps all the time, I'm supposed to be the fun & cute twin!" Tyrone exclaimed. "That is not Gwen, I can feel it." Arnold added. "Starting today, we're all getting to the bottom of this and saving my daughter." Dipper declared. "No matter the cost." Gwen giggled in a somewhat creepy fashion while the bobble of her hat glowed dimly, to the unease of her friends while Arnold & Tyrone gazed out the window to spy on Medical Mechanica.

Later that day in the living room while a group of hippies chanted "Furi kuri, furi kura! Furi kuri, furi KURA!", Dipper begged Haruko to assist them. "Please Haruko, you have to help us here!" he shouted but the Vespa Woman had her head turned away. "Oh please, this was all Arnie's fault he didn't remove the headphones like I asked him to." she stated. "Well you're at fault as well for even touching her!" "Enough arguing you two!" Stan exclaimed beating them both with his cane. "We gotta find Gwen quick. I do not wanna know what untold madness will come from her being too happy." "Stanley is right, you're both wasting precious time that we don't have." Jinyu responded stepping into the sitting room with the rest of the crew in tow. "You know what you need to do, so do it." she declared boldly despite still wearing her maid uniform. "I think she might have a maid fetish." Ian whispered. "Medical Mechanica." the maid continued. "That is where we'll remove it." Haruko responded with a thumbs up while Dipper got excited at the thought of the madness finally ending. "And then we can chase him together." The thumbs up immediately became a thumbs down. "We don't have any more options. Although they've tried to kill us and destroy the town in the past, they're our last hope." Ford announced just as someone knocked on the door. "Can someone answer that please?" "Allow me. But if it's PETA again, I'll just say the town is outta animals for them to kill." Stan answered wheeling up the the door and answering it, discovering a man in a suit and glasses on the other side. "You must be Stanford's brother. May I come in?" "What are you, a cop?" Stanley rudely asked before attempting to slam the door on the man, but oddly enough he managed to sneak his foot through mid-shutting. "Ow." "Is that you Kanda? What brings you here?" Ford asked shoving his brother out of the way to reopen the door. "So you plan on going up against the Big M, eh?" Kanda asked stepping into the house. "Well, I think this might be a good time for me to shine." "Hark, is that you I hear Kanda?!" Haruko chirped randomly appearing between the Stan brothers. "Wait, you know each other?" Dipper exclaimed. "I suppose it's time to let the cat out of the bag." Ford sighed. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Tsukata Kanda. He's a new friend of mine that I've met in Little Asia a while back. He claims that he does have history with Haruko and-" "How badly did she emasculate you?" Dipper bluntly asked. "Maliciously." Kanda replied just as matter of factly pulling out his squirt gun. "Now as I was saying, help me help you Pines family." "Pretty sure you're saying that wrong." Mabel remarked. "Want some coffee?" she asked handing him a mug of joe. "I'd very much appreciate that Mrs. Pines." Kanda replied taking the mug before he accidentally dropped it, spilling the caffeine all over his foot. "My word, I am terribly sorry! Just a bit of a klutz, I'll help you clean up!" "No need right now sir, we've got a friend to save." Ian interrupted Tsukata. "Speaking of which, where did Gwen run off to anyway?"

"A theme park? Perhaps this could be a chance to see what it's like being a child my age." Imelda muttered gazing at a help wanted poster in her hands for a new amusement park. She was so absorbed in the poster that she didn't pay attention when she nearly bumped into Gwen drawing all over the window of an abandoned furniture store. "My word Gwen, what are you doing?!" "It's all done!" Gwen chirped in response marveling at her marker-on-glass masterpiece. Imelda contemplated the meaning of the bright colors and the bizarre imagery. "Quite impressive my friend." the second Ramirez daughter applauded her older friend. "In a single word, it's a song!" Gwen cheered twirling around. "What kind of song?" Imelda wondered. "Carmen, Beethoven, Mozart, Skrillex?" "That'sa right-o!" Gwen stated beaming. "In space, no one can hear you sing! But the stars spin and spin and they spin around and around and they sing together!" The Pines daughter ran off merrily leaving the seven-year-old to contemplate what she just said. "Song of the stars, eh? My word, the park!"

A man in a goofy vulture mascot costume watched as a helicopter lowered a new attraction for his park before him while two children ran on by. "Check it out, they're putting in a new ride!" the first youth said excitedly. "That's awesome!" the second added just as amazed. When the clock struck three, Aiko interrupted her date with a third boy to get her pay. "Time's up, now pay up." The boy complied handing Aiko an envelope that she fished through. "Nice doing business with you." she said handing the boy a statue of a bear with a fish in its mouth. "Did I just buy this?" the boy wondered as Aiko began to walk off. "Maybe. Til the next time you need my services." The helicopter pulled the tarp off its cargo unveiling a viking ship ride, to the two boys' disappointment. "It's just a viking ride." the first stated. "That's lame, let's go home." the second replied and the two walked away as Imelda ran up to the vulture. "Excuse me, are you the individual running this establishment?" "Why yes little one, my name's Tonkichi!" the proprietor of the park answered politely pulling off his costume head to meet Imelda's gaze. "I see you're here about the job opening? And at such a young age too!" "Yes. I'd like to learn about what it's like to be a child my age." Imelda responded. "Well you're just in time young lady, cause a new ride just came!" Tonkichi announced presenting to her the viking ride. "This is going to be our new main attraction!" Across town at Masurao's house, he was being confronted by Eyepatch while the remains of a certain Medical Machine was crucified behind them. "You can't find it?!" Eyepatch shouted. "Well stop acting like a child and keep looking around!" "Well I've already checked everywhere but I still can't find it!" Masurao fired back. "What the hell kinda moron would lose something as a flower pot?" Eyepatch muttered in thought. "Can't you just make another one?" his subordinate suggested. "It's a one of a kind thing made from this guy's parts." Eyepatch stated gesturing to Canti. "There's no way we can make another one, not with our technology!" "Oh man. By the way, have you seen a carved bear anywhere?" Masurao inquired. "You're such a-that's not important!" his superior growled impatiently. "What's important is the flower pot!" "I'm home homies." Aiko muttered walking into her home while her father was speaking with Eyepatch. "We're supposed to use it to monitor-" the other man began. "Yeah, I know! We're supposed to reverse the N.O current!" Aiko's dad interrupted him. His daughter got suspicious of her father's activity and listened in on the conversation. "If we hypothesize that N.O is a power that can pull objects from elsewhere, then-" "I see." Eyepatch observed. "Then it stands to reason we should reverse the direction!" Aiko immediately got suspicious and opened the door to the living room and within mere seconds, it looked completely normal. She groaned as she turned her gaze to find her dad pretending to receive boxing lessons. "What are you guys doing?" "Oh hey Aiko, welcome home!" Masurao nervously greeted his daughter while Eyepatch's jaw dropped at the sight of her. "Oh my, you're just the type! Look at those fists!" he exclaimed marveling at her hands. "You let that champion inside again?" Aiko snarked about the older man. "What do you say squirt?!" Eyepatch cried. "We could take over the world together, you'll be eating lightning and crapping thunder before you know it!" In response, Aiko just kneed him in the stomach. "She's a lot like the other one, packing a punch like a shooting star!" Eyepatch declared falling to the ground. "The neighbors keep whispering about why you're always inviting a homeless man inside!" Aiko scolded her father, who simply replied with a demure "I'm so sorry." "Your dad didn't do nuttin' wrong sweetheart! Your dad's..." Eyepatch defended before Aiko's glare made him drop his guard as well. "A champ." He then handed her a few tickets to the amusement park. "Here. Would you forgive us if I hand you these puppies?" "You're always trying to give me these comp tickets as a way to get on my good side." Aiko scoffed. "Just where the hell are you getting these anyway?" Her question made the two men stutter nervously. "I'd rather have a day pass to the Gravity Falls spa or some resort in Portland." she continued. "I know that amusement park has a new ride, but it's just a stupid viking ship." Her comment about the viking ship made the duo groan in shock. "It was installed?!" Masurao cried. "It was the viking ship? You sure?!" Eyepatch added just as horrified. "Yeah. So?" Aiko answered beginning to get confused at what they were on about. "Hey, they finally did it." the capped man muttered. "Yep, and we're all screwed." the fake champion added and they both started panting & sweating in fear. "What are you talking about?" Aiko wondered just about to close the door on them. "Oh hey Aiko, have you seen that carved bear?" Masurao asked but she was already gone.

Back with Imelda, she had taken her seat on the viking ride. "I really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to test this out." Tonkichi said gratefully. "Thank you very much Mr. Tonkichi. Riding on theme park rides are what children my age do, correct?" Imelda asked just as the old man plugged a wire into the helmet she was wearing. "That's right little lady, plus you get extra pay." Tonkichi replied. "What for?" "Oh, just a gift for the fam." Imelda continued.

Gwen continued merrily skipping about town with a big goofy grin on her face. "A dream, a dream!" she exclaimed. "What is the reason we dream? Is it because it is called a dream?" the girl contemplated. "There are dreams when we sleep, and dreams when we're awake! We dream whether we're sleeping or awake!" While Gwen frolicked about, Jinyu spied on her from her car with Haruko, Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Kanda, Tyrone, Arnold, Ian, Leia, Juan, Jorge, Wendy & Soos alongside her. The fifteen of them silently nodded to one another. "Let's go." Jinyu commanded kickstarting the Bel-Air.

"Look here!" Jinyu stated earlier that day discussing their plan in the living room while the hippies continued harmonizing. "That hat will be quite hard to remove as it's too deep inside Gwen's head." "The reason why she's behaving in this fashion is because of the bizarre radiowaves her cap is receiving straight from Medical Mechanica." Ford added. "Bizarre radiowaves!" Haruko wearing a goofy hat that showed a checkmark & Dipper repeated in unison. "To get her back to normal, we'll have to eliminate both the receptor and transmission source." Tsukata explained further. "Our plan is to split up into groups of three, two to go inside, two staying out and one to find Gwen." "Raharu, Ian & Soos will destroy the outer antenna." Julia stated to the aforementioned trio. "You can count on us Jinyu, as long as it'll get Gwen back." Ian approved of the plan while Haruko let out a half-hearted "Aye aye." while her hat put up an X sign. "Wendy, Juan & Jorge will provide cover for us in case of any outside interference." Ford added. "As for you Arnold, you're assigned along with Tyrone & Leia to find and capture your cousin before we leave for Medical Mechanica." Arnold blushed at the thought of such an important task while Tyrone slapped a hand on his back. "Don't sweat it! This'll be a great chance for Arnold to grow as a man!" "And lastly, Dipper, Mabel & Stan shall accompany Julia, Kanda and I in infiltrating the factory." Ford finished much to Raharu's ire. "Hey, that should be my job!" she exclaimed. "There is no way we're leaving you with Gwen at all!" Dipper rebuked. "Now keep quiet, cause we got a job to do!"

Gwen continued on her merry way with a big laugh until she found a statue of Petra the Pterodactyl singing her famous song with a crudely made "free hugs" sign next to her. "I appreciate you, you appreciate me." a poor recording of a woman's voice sang. "Let's appreciate everybody." "I appreciate you too Petra!" Gwen squealed with childlike delight offering the Petra statue a hug. What she didn't know was that she was now glued to the statue and it was chained to Jinyu's Bel-Air. Tyrone appeared with a big stupid grin on his face as he held up a sign saying "Oldest trick in the book!" followed by another sign saying "What a maroon!" With a hearty meep-meep, he cued the car to pull the statue off its support and fly toward the plant. Imelda on the other hand remained at the carnival testing out the viking ride while Tonkichi watched, and she was not having a good time. "Here we go!" Tonkichi declared pressing a red button that made the boat turn upside down to her shock and displeasure. "I just realized that I've made a huge mistake!" the little girl hollered as the ride made her head grind against the machinery. "That little girl is a great sport."

At last the Bel-Air made it to the roof of the giant iron and the party immediately alighted from it to gaze at the giant handle. "Everyone know your positions?" Kanda asked the rest and they nodded their heads. "Time to go." Jinyu declared. "Yeah, but from where?" Haruko asked. "You tell me." Dipper answered. "Uhhhh..." The Pines and guitar players remained dead silent before they began to argue amongst themselves. "You two don't have a plan and you're bossing us around?!" Haruko shouted hotly. "We have to figure this out together whether you like it or not!" Jinyu replied just as angrily. "Now be useful!" "Shut up! I don't take orders from you!" Raharu snarled. "Girls girls, please. Why don't we try the easy way in and just bomb it all?" Stan offered a solution. "And risk Medical Mechanica hunting us down? That's way too risky!" Ford repealed the idea. "It may have dire consequences, but the easiest way is usually the most successful!" Mabel supported her greedy great-uncle. "That's not helping at all Mabel!" Dipper fired back. "We need to think of something using what we have!" "Good grief, sometimes I wonder why I bothered taking that call." Kanda muttered leaning against the car to light a cigarette. "We're getting nowhere at this rate." Arnold moaned in defeat. "Who knows, change can be a good thing. Maybe we can accept this new Gwen and move on like the old one never went away." Tyrone stated optimistically when he noticed something familiar behind his feet. "Hey, isn't that Aiko's flower?" "Oh, what a pretty treasure!" Gwen chirped in delight picking up the pot. "No, don't touch that! Aiko paid a very high price for it and she'd kill me if anything happened!" Juan exclaimed frantically. "Really high? REALLY HIGH!" Gwen responded tossing the pot into the air. When it landed on Arnold's head, a purple force began glowing on his forehead. "Why can't you just get it?!" Julia yelled with Haruhara's back to her. "It doesn't...it doesn't want you!" Her other half's words prompted a glare from Haruko before Dipper spoke up. "Take it from me. I've had a crush on Wendy when I was a kid and over that summer, I learned you just can't force someone to love y-what is going on?" he began to relate his own experiences with love just as Arnold's forehead began acting up and sucked him in. "OH MOTHER-" "What did you do?! Arnold!" Jinyu shouted as the portal proceeded to swallow her, Haruko and the rest of the Pines. "You're an idiot cause you do idiotic things!" Haruko added as her final words before she was consumed by the forehead as well. "Mommy!" Arnold screamed for his mother. "Dad, no!" Tyrone added just as shocked.

Elsewhere back with Masurao, he had Canti tied up in cardboard and tape. "We have to do this because it's evidence. But I do feel a bit bad." Eyepatch stated solemnly. "Yeah. Because of this guy here, we were able to make tons of progress on the research." Masurao agreed. "Or rather, with what's left of him that is." "So true." the older man sighed in mourning. "The owner of this shell isn't a living creature, at least not in our sense of the word. It's almost like a larger being stuck between creature and planet." the redhead observed. "The planet is quite big of course." Eyepatch responded with a scratch of his head. "And that's why its cycle lasts years at a time." Masurao continued before his monitors started beeping. Rushing over to them, he made a shocking discovery. "What is it?" Eyepatch asked. "It's the flower pot!" Masurao exclaimed. "You mean the one you lost?" Eyepatch snarked. "It's moving!" his subordinate realized. "And that thing only reacts to N.O!" "That means it must've opened." Eyepatch deduced. "Hopefully Tsu knows what's up." "They actually got a hold of the flower pot!" Masurao continued panicking. "And it's in reverse flow!"

Arnold stood perfectly in place with the pot in his hands while the others watched in shock over what has happened. "W-what just happened?" "They all went inside your head!" Gwen cackled merrily creeping her relatives out even more. "What happened to you sis?" Tyrone asked begging for the big sister he knew to come back. "I'm the only one between us who's supposed to be that hyper." "Only one? But I've always been like this." Tyrone's sister revealed merrily. "Always?" Tyrone answered in shock. "Then again, her aunt is Mabel Pines." Wendy snarked. "To be honest, for as long as I can remember." Gwen explained just as the car engine went off and soared to the top of the Medical Mechanica plant.

"Can you all just shut up? You're turning into a bunch of broken records at this point." Haruko complained while she, Jinyu and the Pines ascended a seemingly unending flight of stairs within the factory. "Why can't you understand?" Julia groaned in irritation. "That is not what he wants, all right?" "Ha! Funny how you think you know him so well!" Haruko scoffed ignoring her words. "I barely know a thing about the big guy myself, but like I said; you can't force someone to love you!" Dipper reiterated hauling Stan's wheelchair on his back. "Now can someone give me some help? Stan is remarkably heavy for someone so old." "Well I do care." Jinyu continued in the midst of Dipper's struggling. "If you say that again, I'm gonna kill you." Haruko threatened her. "Please you two, why not just live and let live like I said before?" Mabel tried to ease the tension between the pair of women. "Don't bother getting involved Mabel, Jinyu is objectively right because she's a morally better person." Stan cut her off. "He needs to have his freedom." Jinyu continued. "Anyone who tries to keep him tied down is my enemy. Medical Mechanica, and even you." "If I may throw my few cents into the ring, Jinyu is trying to say he just-" Ford tried to interject, but was cut off by Haruko slamming the wall. "Shut up! I'm sick of hearing you talking about him Jinyu, and I'm sick of you guys trying to take her side! When I want something, I get it!" she hissed. "I'll do what I need to make sure he sees me!" "We aren't taking sides here, you're just acting like a spoiled child just because you want bird dick!" Ford argued, immediately regretting what disgusting thing he just said. "He's right. And you're going to fail." Jinyu agreed and Raharu just hissed again. "I understand everything. I understand him. And them, and you too." "How dare you say that." Haruko eerily stated. "I will keep on saying it!" Julia declared. "You need to join me Raharu! You're me after all!" Haruko just gritted her teeth with an angry glare and turned away to adjust her goggles. "Fine." "Raharu. You finally get it!" Jinyu beamed. "Together, I know we can-" "I am gonna devour you."

The Bel-Air roared to the very top of the Medical Mechanica factory with its passengers bracing for impact. When it finally skidded to a stop, Arnold was lying down on the floor with the flower pot by his side. "Gwen? Gwen, where are you?!" he called for his cousin. "GWEEN!" As fast as he could get up, he found Gwen dancing along the edge of the handle with a calm smile on her face. "Gwen?" "Dudes, you do realize she's dancing on the brim of a very high place, right?" Soos pointed out awkwardly. "No way!" Wendy exclaimed while her daughter observed the town below. "Young lady, please get away from there this instant!" "I can see everything!" Gwen chirped excitedly gazing into the distance. "Where is the-da-discuh-my father?!" she exclaimed. "Dude, he's in his head! Did you not get the memo?!" Ian screamed dramatically pointing to Arnold's scalp. "I don't have a mother either." the girl added to everyone's shock. "G-G-Gwennie?" Wendy muttered cupping her mouth in shock. "She doesn't understand how I feel. But then again, no one does!" Gwen continued. "I'm just a complete enigma!" "I-is this her true thoughts?" Kanda observed in wonder. "If everything's destroyed, we can just start all over!" Gwen contemplated. "For one, Mommy will no longer have to worry about me, Daddy will come home, Tyrone will still be his same old self and Arnold will grow a pair! If today was an ordinary day like yesterday, that would've been oh so nice!" With a loud sigh, Gwen fell down forward and in a panic, her family rushed to rescue her. Arnold managed to cling onto her arm at the last moment before fate had other plans for him. His cousin continued giggling and performed a pirouette that switched their places, her back on solid ground & Arnold clinging onto dear life. "Someone, save me!" "No, I think you can do it manliness grasshopper!" Juan exclaimed. "Yeah! We know you can make it back by yourself! Just try as hard as you can, and if you fall that's too bad!" Jorge added, which finally made Arnold lose it. "SO WHAT, YOU'RE MORE CONCERNED ABOUT MY MANLINESS THAN MY OWN MORTALITY?! I AM LITERALLY ON THE VERGE OF DEATH HERE AND ALL YOU'RE DOING IS HAZING ME!" "Don't worry little dude, I got your back!" Ian shouted grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him back up. "There you go Arnie. Now how do you feel?" he asked Arnold. "Exhilarated and testy." Arnold replied tepidly. "And like I said, there's more to manliness than endangering the lives of others." "I don't need anything special. But the anger, the sadness, the misery, the hatred. I just don't want to think about it anymore." Gwen announced holding onto her hat with a cute smile. "And so, that's why this hat looks great!"

Inside the factory, Haruha & Julia clashed once more while the Pines struggled to find cover from their fighting. "We have to find a way out, now!" Dipper screamed lighting four cigarettes in his mouth. "Not until we discuss your recent smoking habit! Aren't you the least bit concerned about your health?!" Ford hollered back. "It helps me de-stress, get your priorities straight Ford!" the great-nephew screamed again. "Now what can we do now?!" "Stop it! Raharu!" Jinyu cried landing on the metal brain-like structure before Haruko rocketed forward with bass in hand. Ford attempted to cover for his guitar-playing friend with a few shots from the magnet gun labeled "Carry at all times! Can't be too careful" he kept in his coat, but it was too late. The Vespa Woman slammed her bat down and made the brain explode in bright colors.

Back outside, the rest of the crew were just about ready to leave without the Pines, the Vespa Woman or her other half when the ground started shaking and Gwen collapsed in pain. "Sis, no!" Tyrone cried while his older sister screamed & cried in agony while her beanie began its most violent vibration thus far. "That's not good!" Tsukata gasped before the siren went off. "That's not good at all!" Imelda remained on the viking ride screaming as it spun in high speeds. "What's going on?" Tonkichi wondered looking around the operating booth before noticing a siren going off. The helmet on Imelda's head then began to crack. "Please sweetheart, answer us!" Wendy cried for her child before she let out one last scream and the hat just popped off her head. The girl fell unconscious in her mother's warm embrace while the hat drifted to Leia's feet. "Jackpot, we got 'em off!" she cheered pulling out a lighter from her pocket. "Now let's burn this thing and close this story for good!" "I don't think we're done yet. Look!" Soos exclaimed pointing at Gwen who was now on the verge of tears. "Someone help me! I think I'm going to overflow!" she sobbed. "I'm going to overflow! I'm going to-" "What in God's name is she talking about?!" Wendy shouted at Kanda finally having enough of things. "It means she's going to release N.O energy! Brace yourselves!" the agent cautioned shielding himself from potential danger, commanding everybody else to do the same. "I'm going to overflow! I'm going to overflow!" Gwen repeated shakily and let out an even louder scream than before, causing a single blue arm to burst through her head along with Dipper, Mabel and the Stans finally escaping. "Woo, that's the second craziest headcase I've seen in my life." Stanley commented rubbing his butt. "Now what did we miss?" "The-the world is turning inside out!" Gwen sobbed once more seeing images of a gloved hand breaking free from the chains holding some creature. She was lifted up into the air before the arm grabbed her face, pulling its owner out to reveal herself as Jinyu with a firecracker in her mouth. Suddenly another red arm, no doubt belonging to Haruko, grabbed Jinyu's own face and tried to push her back down. As the conflict continued, more visions appeared of Jinyu bursting from Haruko followed by scarlet wings emerging from her head. With that, the two broke free and clashed leaving Gwen to fall from the sky. "What is even happening right now?" Tyrone asked his younger great great-uncle. "This has to be N.O!" Ford analyzed. "When we managed to get inside the factory through the channel in your sister's forehead, Jinyu made some choice words that got Raharu mad and she smacked this giant brain thing that led to us breaking out!" "Well what're you waitin' for Sixer? Shoot her down!" Stan commanded his brother snatching the magnet gun and handing it to him. Behind their backs, Gwen landed back in the Bel-Air. Masurao and Eyepatch rushed outside to see what was up. "I can't believe it! Could it be the Pirate-" Eyepatch began before he was cut off once more. "It can't be, but that power definitely is!" Masurao answered frantically. "Oh my, it's begun!" Tonkichi declared peeping out the window. Imelda just kept on screaming and reminisced on running into Gwen while she was drawing on the window. "JANE, STOP THIS CRAZY THING!" she belted out a complete non-sequitur while a bamboo shoot spawned from her head and she was sent flying off the ride toward the factory. "What do we do now?!" Tyrone asked not knowing how they will survive this. "Why the smartest thing to do in a situation like this," Stan answered before his wheelchair turned and skidded away. "NIGURENDAYO!" Stan however was stopped in his tracks when he found Gwen in Jinyu's car about to drive over the edge of the giant iron as it was tilted backward by the bamboo shoot erupting from Imelda's forehead. The bulbs on her head burst and set free a small robot that raced up the stalk. "What is going on down there?!" Dipper cried before spotting his daughter in the car about to fall off the iron and panicked. Haruko let out a mighty scream as guitars clashed. "Cut it out Raharu!" Jinyu yelled trying to talk some sense into her other half. "Shut up! And your sunglasses are lame!" Haruko howled knocking the other woman back and chasing after her. The little bamboo shoot robot spotted the Vespa Woman and stuck out its little eyeball to put up a shield. When the girl tried to attack, the shield instead gave her a shock that blew her away. "How dare you?!" "GWEEEEEN!" the other Pines screamed together chasing after the Bel-Air while it rolled down the roof of the iron. They began to form a human chain that would try and stop the car from running away but unfortunately, they crashed into a support beam while the vehicle careened off the edge and towards the ground. "Gwen, no!" Dipper cried racing off the edge even though his face was badly injured. As for the little machine, it began firing at the two guitar players while they were still fighting. "Give up Raharu!" Jinyu screamed while Ford once again attempted to fire his magnet gun at Haruko. Dipper continued to dive after his daughter when she finally came to and spotted him. "Papa, no!" Gwen quickly took her dad's hand and dragged him into the backseat with her. "I am so glad you're okay pumpkin, now we gotta save the others!" Dipper shouted preparing to take the wheel until he realized they were already mere moments from crashing. Suddenly Jinyu came soaring in and picked the vehicle up before fetching the rest from the Medical Mechanica factory. "Thank you Jinyu! You're a real lifesaver!" Stan exclaimed spotting the Jazzmaster woman lifting her sedan in the air by just a hand. "You'd better not let your guard down!" Haruko exclaimed charging even faster at Jinyu, managing to dodge the little machine firing at her along the way, and attacked in a way that made the Bel-Air fall from her grasp. "Stop it, Raharu!" "No way Lame Glasses!" Raharu hissed beating Jinyu down to the ground. "Are you okay?!" Ford exclaimed in worry before Stanley grabbed the magnet gun. "Okay, that's it!" he shouted. "Everybody but me has gotten a chance to maim her this entire story, and I'm not about to waste my chance giving her the karma she deserves!" "Stanley you idiot, give that back!" Stanford shouted trying to wrestle his makeshift weapon out of the con-artist's hands. "I NEED MY GODDAMN NICOTINE!" Dipper shrieked about to light up another one in the heat of the moment when Haruko finally grabbed the convertible and tossed it toward the little robot, ultimately destroying it and making the bamboo crumble. Smoke began billowing from the tilting factory as Jinyu returned in the nick of time to save the two families from certain doom. "I know it's great that she saved us, but what about the factory?" Ian wondered pointing back to the falling iron. "It's tipping over!" Kanda exclaimed just as Haruko returned with a vengeance and with one fell swoop, it was all over. The iron now sat perfectly on its back following an explosion. The firecracker in Jinyu's mouth fell out. And there was a large hole in her chest where she was struck. "The plant..." Eyepatch gasped. "Stood up?!" Masurao added in shock. When the Bel-Air crashed and the Pines fell out, Haruko stood atop the wreckage of the robot with Jinyu in a chokehold while her white guitar was planted in the ground. "Jinyu. No." Ford muttered in utter speechlessness. "R-Raharu..." Jinyu croaked defeatedly. "I just wanted for him to have his freedom. I love him. That's why. I want him to be free from us." "You don't get it, no." Haruko remarked coldly. "Everything has always belonged to him, right from the very beginning. His shackles and his freedom. There isn't anything in this world that doesn't belong to him. Nothing." she monologued before pulling down her goggles with a smile. "That settles it. So we're not the same after all." "I guess so." Jinyu responded hoarsely in a dignified matter. "Perhaps, you're right." "Come with me Jinyu." Haruko serenely offered her. "We can finally be together." With that, Haruko morphed into a wasplike creature, fitting her moniker as the Vespa Woman, and swallowed Jinyu whole with only her glasses left behind while everybody watched in sheer terror. When the biker morphed into her now pink-haired humanoid self, she snatched the glasses from the air and put them on with a smirk followed by an evil chuckle. When Gwen looked down on the ground to find her hat partially buried in the dirt before the woman touched down on the crashed Bel-Air. "Now, why don't you come with me as well Gwen?" Haruko offered the younger girl. Imelda burst from the wreckage to spot her siblings, father and friends facing Haruko with Jinyu nowhere in sight. "Uh, what did I miss?" "I get it. I finally understand now." Gwen announced. "I know what you want to do. And that's why," she bravely put her beanie back on. "I can't go with you!" Haruko just gazed down at the Pines girl before Stan came to her defense with ten guns attached to his wheelchair. "She's right Raharu. Either leave my family & my planet alone or else I'll make sure that when you die, you'll be all alone with no one at your funeral except me, pointing and laughing." All was silent once more and nothing would be the same ever again.

At long last, chapter 4 is completed and boy this was a big one! Not just in terms of how long it took, but in how much this changes everything. About Haruko's relationship with the Pines, about Gwen, Tyrone & Arnold's arcs and the wider universe. Join us next time for the penultimate chapter of this saga and if you'll excuse me, I've got another Gravity Falls crossover I've been sitting on for too long.

[directionlessbuthappy]

Little Lamb

When Ivar’s army lands on an island off the coast of Ireland, he is eager to learn more about the land he will soon conquer to the west. With his sites on the mainland, he’s managed to catch himself the perfect little thief that will be his guide, and perhaps an entertaining pet. You.

Warnings: depictions of violence, language

Taglist: steadypiepsychicflower @cbouvier23

Perpetually grey. That's all this village was to you. An island placed in the eye of a storm it seemed. The sun never emerged here. Sometimes when you sat along the cobblestones on a bright day, you could look up and see a grey ring of light in the sky. The sun always hid from Lambay; a lot of folks from the mainland said it was because the island was cursed to sink one day, and God did not smile upon Lambay as He did with the Irish mainland.

What you didn't anticipate was the island sinking in not ocean water, but in blood.

It was a Tuesday, and the bells began their assault on your eardrums early in the morning. Light had just began to rise into the clouds when you heard the screams. Metal clashed against metal, bodies fell in the streets. You hid in your small cellar, watching people pass by through the crack in the wooden doors. They were men. Much taller than any Irishman you'd seen...although they were just as unruly. 

Destroying carts and caravans, laughing as they slaughtered innocent people. It would've been unnerving had life here been sweet in any way. But it wasn't. Being a thief had its perks; surviving the initial onslaught was suicide out there, but after letting the men fight awhile, you figured you had more of a chance than some after the dust was kicked up. So you waited while the town was pillaged and burned.

The curse was real. God was really bringing his wrath down upon Lambay. At least, that's what you heard the milkman's wife screaming before she was axed across the back. You did not believe in God; you stopped believing in him long ago, and hadn't decided what to believe in. You wondered if perhaps the Devil was real just as the doors to your cellar were flung aside.

You stumbled back and fell into the clay wall along the back. Your cellar was no bigger than a dressing house; the two vikings who peered inside and saw you gave murderous smiles. You wasted no time clocking the one on the left with your staff before taking a knife to the one on the right. They dropped dead in seconds. 

Your cover blown, you stepped outside into the blinding grey. Walking briskly through the alleyway, the screams had become distant, but the constant wetness of the mud combined in blood began to cake the bottom of your dress. Keeping up appearances was the main reason you wore this wretched thing; a little Christian orphan girl was easily underestimated. And easy to win over the few pitiful hearts this village had.

Rounding another corner, cobblestone cracking underfoot, you felt another hand on you and immediately saw red. When you finally let down your rage, you were kneeling as your arms were bent into submission. The faint ache in your head suggested they dazed you to get you down. You sat there trying to gather your thoughts, faced with a shield wall unlike anything you'd ever seen. Nothing like the men of the Western Isles, or even the Romans.

And their leader was far from either. A man with broad shoulders and his hair braided back. The braids resembled the Scots, but with dark hair and being so pale there was no way he was Scottish. You spit at his feet the moment he stepped forward using a crutch. He had...iron legs. It was astonishing to you. You'd never met a man who walked this way. Those like him never survived here for very long. He said something, it sounded like a question with the way his eyebrow cocked. He wasn't very good at English but you weren't one to judge; you'd learned from the missionaries from England, but you weren't fluent yet. Close, but not; you still spoke mostly Celtic.

"Say again?" you asked him. His smile was unnerving as he tapped his crutch to your cheek. The wood left splinters in the soft flesh of your face.

"I said, what is your name lágr dýr? (little beast)" 

You swallowed and debated on biting into his crutch. He withdrew it before you'd decided and you seethed.

"Y/n is my name," you muttered in Celtic. That got you a punch in the stomach.

"Mœla (Speak) so I can hear you."

You glowered at him, even from your lowly seat in the mud. The men pulled you to your feet, finally. "Y/n. Ollphéist (monster)."

"Y/n..." he mused. "Such a funny tongue you have. Well, y/n. Have you enjoyed watching your home come to ruin? Or is your God going to save you? Hmm?"

"What God?" you asked him rhetorically. This made him smirk.

"You renounced your god?"

"I never had God," you rebuffed. To that, he laughed his head off. The men around you both hardly understood this conversation it seemed. Perhaps you were speaking to the only smart barbarian in this band of warriors. "Are you going to kill me?"

"You would make a shit þrœll. You are too skinny," he huffed. "But, no. You live."

"Why?" you asked, true fear in your eyes now. There was nothing more terrifying than a man who killed all others but kept you alive. Some things weren't worth living through...

"You will help me. This eyland is new to me. There must be more than this," he shrugged. You wondered why he was here at all. 

"More?"

"Fèmunir (valuables)."

Your eyebrows furrowed. Still unsure of what they were here for, you swallowed and looked away from the man.

"You help me, and you may live well."

You wondered how 'well' he meant until the men started dragging you away with them. The shield wall dissipated as you were pushed to follow them and stand on your feet. You walked behind the tall, dark haired monster as he commanded his army to form up elsewhere. You left town and walked for over two hours. Nobody spoke English; every time you tried, one of the man's cronies would slap you quiet. You could finally see a camp staked out along the beach. You stopped for a moment, seeing Ivar turn ahead of you and look straight at you. Almost feeling his gaze in your soul. How did he even know you'd stopped?

"I am Ivar." He taunted you with such casual introduction. Someone shoved you in the arm and you kept walking. 

...

"What am I to help with?" you growled. Being tied to a chair was far from your idea.

"The land. I want to know where we are."

"Lambay," you spat. Ivar chuckled and sat back, rolling a few grapes around in his hand.

"And where is west of here?"

"The mainland. Ireland."

"Ireland...we have a place that sounds like that where I come from. Götaland."

"Sounds made up," you scoffed. Ivar actually laughed at this, throwing another grape at you. It bounced off your forehead, again. He sat up, leaning forward in his chair. The sudden interest made you guarded.

"Why do you not believe in a god?"

This question surprised you. Most of the town, when villages you staked home in found out you did not believe, they'd gather an angry mob to either baptize you, exorcise you, or kill you. You'd never been asked why you didn't.

"Why do you?" you asked back at him. "It is obvious you creidim (believe) in a god."

"Gods," he corrected briskly. "I believe in the gods."

"More than one? You are uaillmhianach."

He pulled out his knife; you flinched at the sound of metal scraping on the holster.

"What did you call me?"

You fumbled for the word. It wasn't an English word you’d thought. But how else could you say it...

"You...believe in gods...many gods...it is too much for one man. It is greater than most men I see, who only believe in one. Greater."

"Metnaðargjarn."

You must've looked bewildered. Knowing the meaning without the word it is assigned to is a strange feeling. Ivar squeezed the handle of his knife, tilting it to the side to see your eyes from above the blade.

"That is the word. We have it in Norway. Not in English."

"You are a met...metnaðarn man?"

Ivar laughed; you turned bright red at your failed attempt in Old Norse.

"Nice try little witch," he applauded. "Met na ðargjarn."

"Met..." you trailed off, noticing Ivar getting up to stand. "Ne...na..."

He walked over to you, leaning on his crutch, and held the knife to eye level with you. Your breathing hitched and you felt lightheaded in fear.

"-ðargjarn," he finished for you.

"ðarg jarn," you mouthed terribly. 

He scoffed. You still had to learn he supposed. Your speech was near to a child from his homeland. However, you were far from a child; your lithe body and freckled face was pleasing to look at. Ivar was interested in keeping you close. If you could take down three of his men alone, you were not just some useless woman. In fact you were the closest he’d seen to a free woman in a while.

"If you must know, I believe in the gods because I have seen them. They are real, just like you and me. Unlike your God that you cannot explain without weaving stories about virgins and strange stars."

You smiled; he was mad, the idea he could see a god was ludicrous. But, he wasn't wrong in his observations of Christianity. In your eyes, he was a smarter man than most.

"I do not believe in God or any gods," you said proudly. "They are used an excuses for man's wickedness. Men of God are nothing but tyrants, and women of God are nothing but fodder."

Ivar smirked and pressed his knife to your chest. You were about to cry out, expecting pain, but instead he cut the binds to your chair. The dagger left marks in the wood; you shivered before stretching your limbs in relief.

"You will meet my gods someday," Ivar said confidently. "Until then, continue hating your God. I like hearing you speak, y/n."

He walked back to his bed, sitting down like before. Your chest and cheeks blushed. "I will not meet a god. I am just...me. Who am I to meet a god?"

Ivar started unlatching the iron around his legs; you watched him intently. "You've already met me, little Irishwoman," he shrugged. "When I take you home, I will take you to a place where anyone can feel the gods. Even you, a godless kvikindi (creature) will feel them."

"And you won't kill me till then?" you questioned. Ivar looked up at you with raised eyebrows, like this was a new idea he hadn't considered, but you knew better.

"If you do not believe after seeing Uppsala, I will," he agreed. Going back to his legs, he sighed and sat himself back on his elbows after dealing with a strap for too long. Frustrated with it. He turned back to you and nodded to his legs; it was suggestive, but you minded your life. “For now, you will serve me well.”

[ninetyfourmag-blog]

Orkney has always been a popular destination for those who have special ties to the island, however, in recent years many more people are discovering its charm and it has became quite a popular visit for cruise ships and holiday makers.

If you’re not bothered by throw of the dice weather then I would really recommend a visit. If anything, it makes you appreciate when you get a beautiful dry day on the island. Here’s 10 things you can do/see (most of them outside, sorry) if you visit the Orkney Islands.

1. Skara Brae

image by: Historic Scotland

image by: Kieran Baxter

Located on the Bay of Skaill, Skara Brae is a Neolithic settlement made up of 8 clustered houses. The story I’m told whenever I go is that it was rediscovered after a storm revealed the outline of the houses that had been covered by sand and grass – often called the “Scottish Pompeii” due to how well preserved it was. I’m going to bore you with one of those stories of “when I was young” (even though I’m technically still young) but many years ago, you could adventure through the old settlement of Skara Brae, use tools in their kitchens and walk through the houses where the families would have lived. This obviously had to stop for preservation reasons and the amount of people that now visit the site but still well worth the visit even just for the views over the Bay of Skaill.

2. The Italian Chapel

image by: Gregory Kingsley

The Italian Chapel at Lamb Holm was built by Italian prisoners of war during World War II after being given permission to build a place of worship. It is held in high regard by island residents and visitors due to the incredible level of artistry and workmanship. Once a free site to visit, it now costs £3 to go inside the chapel. This is to help towards the upkeep and maintenance needed and also because someone stole three of the Station of the Cross in 2014 but lets not get into that. Replacement Plaques were however carved in Moena, Italy and replaced those in the chapel.

3. The Churchill Barriers

image by: Orkney Uncovered

One of my favourite things in Orkney are the Churchill Barriers. There’s nothing like the rush of being overtaken in the car when crossing the narrow road (this is a joke, please don’t do this to people, speaking from experience here). The Churchill Barriers are 4 causeways that link the mainland to smaller islands. They were built during WWI as a defence for Scapa Flow that then housed the Royal Navy’s Grand Fleet. They’re hella cool and you’ll most likely see a few shipwrecks each side of them.

4. The Ring of Brodgar

sdr

image by: Brian John

Believed to outdate Stonehenge in England, is The Ring of Brodgar. Originally a ring with a diameter of 340 ft and consisting of 60 megaliths, 27 stones remain today ranging from 7 – 15 ft. Also, it’s pronounced Broa(d)yeur not Brogar and is free to visit woooo.

5. Maeshowe

Maeshowe is a chambered cairn that’s history is a little sketchy but it is known that the Vikings entered the mound during the 12th century and have left one of the largest collections of runes anywhere, as well as carvings of a dragon, a serpent and a walrus. It has associations with the winter solstice, the sun shines directly into the passage of Maeshowe and for a few minutes it illuminates the back wall quite dramatically. I’d recommend doing the tour where you crawl through the narrow tunnel and enter into the dome shaped chamber.

6. Happy Valley

image by: Peter Adams

My Nana and Papa knew they man that started Happy Valley and were so excited to hear that his life’s work had been maintained after his passing in 2005. At his house “Bankburn” in Stenness, Edwin Harrold created an area of forest from 1948 to 1990 – which is quite rare in Orkney due to the high winds. If you visit now, it is an incredibly peaceful and magical place that still includes his small cottage house and a stream. Stepping into the forest you feel as though you are in another land. It is well maintained by the community and perfect for small children as there are windchimes, fairies and hidden treasure.

7. The Craft Trail

The Craft Trail 2018 was one of my favourite things when we visited this year. So much negativity is generally placed on making a living out of a creative discipline but in Orkney, it thrives. My favourite places we visited on the craft tail were Sheila Fleets new visitor centre in Tankerness that consists of a shop and café and her sisters tapestry shop. You may even be lucky enough to bump into the wonderful lady herself there. After browsing her incredible new collection and hearing about her inspiration, she recommended we visit her sisters tapestry workshop which is also incredible – clearly such a talented family!

8. Live Music at The Reel

image by: Frank Peter

Nights in Orkney are made for live music at The Reel in Kirkwall created by internationally renowned Wrigley Sisters. There’s a café, bar and a music school. They host plenty of music events such as their Saturday night sessions that allow anyone with an instrument to join in. Even if you aren’t musically inclined, it’s well worth a visit to experience the atmosphere.

9. Go puffin spotting at the Brough of Birsay

image by: Phil Turner

If you fancy trying to spot some puffins, the Brough of Birsay is the place you need to go. Only accessible at low tide via a causeway, it is quite a walk up the exposed hill but so worth it! Just don’t go leaning to far over the edge for a good view. May and June are the only months you really see them here though!

10. The Broch of Gurness

Similar to Skara Brae is the Broch of Gurness except here you can really get in about the old Iron Age settlement. A broch is a tall circular tower and there’s estimated to be around 500 in northern Scotland however this one also had a broch village and has been excavated so you really do get a real insight to the layout of the settlement. Fun fact, according to my family, there was no fence back in the day but after my dad fell over the edge on to the sand below, they had to put one in – oops.

      10 Things to see in Orkney, Scotland (mostly outside, sorry!) Orkney has always been a popular destination for those who have special ties to the island, however, in recent years many more people are discovering its charm and it has became quite a popular visit for cruise ships and holiday makers.

[sheikah]

No one has to like Daenerys, (I do for the record), but how in the world can someone say with a straight face that she is a fascist??? Way to throw around a term with zero understanding. Also, why is she being bashed for wanting the kingdoms, yet other characters are being praised or encouraged to break off and form their own kingdoms?

I think that a lot of people have a kind of warped understanding of what the Seven Kingdoms really mean, and see the entire Targaryen dynasty as some sort of negative allegory for the worst aspects of an absolute monarchy. But that simply isn’t the case. 

Aegon I’s conquest was, indeed, a violent one. And the following Dornish wars and wars with the Iron Islands were bloody. Despite that, Aegon himself was not in his time widely viewed as some sort of bloody tyrant or dictator, and there was some reasoning to his goal of uniting Westeros that goes beyond a simple, selfish desire for power. 

Aegon was actually approached first by the Storm King Argilac Durrandon. He proposed an alliance based on a marriage between Aegon and Durrandon’s daughter, Argella. A huge piece of land from around the Trident to Blackwater Rush would be given to Aegon as Argella’s dowry. Argilac was not actually the lord of this land in the first place, but he made the offer in the interest of creating a manned border between his own lands and Harren Hoare’s–essentially trying to buy a shield in the form of the Targaryens. 

However, Aegon was faithful to his two sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya, and responded that he had no desire for a third wife. Instead, he offered his friend, Orys Baratheon, as an alternative for the alliance. But it was rumored that Orys was Aegon’s bastard half-brother, so Argilac was angry and took the offer as a personal slight. He responded by chopping off the hands of Aegon’s envoy and delivering them to Dragonstone. How barbaric!

The painted table at Dragonstone did not yet include strict borders between the Seven Kingdoms but Aegon knew that they were un-united and–based on encounters like this one with Argilac–ungoverned. He called together his council, and after many days of deliberation they settled on the conquest of Westeros. 

So Aegon was born on Dragonstone and only came to the decision to conquer the rest of Westeros after provocation and discussion. 

His actual reign, as stated above, had its problems; but there were also many years of peace. He established his capitol at King’s Landing, and at that time it was so peaceful that for awhile there were not even walls around it. He wasn’t worried about being attacked. 

Every year as king, Aegon made a progress around Westeros observing his country and making sure that everything was proceeding peacefully and efficiently. For him to personally oversee his kingdom this way is, as you probably know, a much more engaged and accountable ruling style than we’ve seen from kings like Robert Baratheon. 

Aegon was also careful to respect the Faith of the Seven and was crowned by a septon. 

All in all, I think there is a very exaggerated view of Aegon’s conquest and subsequent rule in the fandom that contributes to a lot of anti-Dany discourse. But, again, in reality his conquest and rule were not so bad.

I personally think it is meant to parallel the real-world Norman conquest that solidified the union of the warring Anglo Saxon, Celtic, and Viking people in Britain in the 10th century. Sometime in the early 900s AD, Alfred the Great established an infrastructure and influence throughout the warring kingdoms that lead to unification under his grandson, Eadred in 955 AD. So when William the Conqueror landed in 1066 the groundwork was already in place for him to rule, and while conquest in still conquest, this unification (even under a monarch instead of a democracy) was still a good thing in the interest of peace and shared resources. Because after the fall of the Roman Empire there, there was a lack of order and a series of violent conflicts that ended with unification.

So, similarly, Aegon’s Conquest can be viewed positively for its unification of the warring and sometimes lawless state of Westeros prior to his reign. 

After Aegon’s death, of course, not all ensuing rulers were good. In particular Maegor the Cruel comes to mind as a failure. But there were also good kings, most notably Jaehaerys I, also called “the Wise” and well-loved by his people. Taken from AWOIAF Wiki: 

“Jaehaerys was the longest-ruling Targaryen monarch, having ruled for fifty-five years. Because of this, he is referred to as the ‘Old King.’ His reign is remembered as the most prosperous period in the history of the Targaryen monarchy. His reign brought peace, stability, and justice to the Seven Kingdoms. Jaehaerys is possibly the best king that Westeros ever saw, and is regarded as such by many historians and laymen.”

So I don’t think that there is much basis for these arguments in the fandom for the independence of various kingdoms, or that the Targaryens were universally horrible or exploitative tyrants. On the contrary, having a unified kingdom has been a good thing when done right. 

So, how can it be done right?

Well, I think that Dany represents that in her eagerness to “Break the Wheel,” and her willingness to allow individual kingdoms conditional independence. 

We know that Dany was willing to let Yara Greyjoy rule the Iron Islands as its queen, and that Dany told Tyrion that other kingdoms could have their independence, too, so long as they “asked” like Yara did. The implication is that so long as these kingdoms agree to abide by Dany’s laws (no more “raping and reaving,” no slavery, etc) and to be her ally in any potential conflicts, they can be independent for all intents and purposes. But there is still a loose union happening, which is good. This allows the kingdoms autonomy while still sharing resources and protection with one another. 

If the North were to break away from the Seven Kingdoms as an independent kingdom, yes–they would be alright for awhile. They have the most land and the most people of any of the individual kingdoms. But in Winter, I have to wonder how well they could get along with no alliances. We know that The Reach produces most of the food. Presumably there are Winter crops to sustain the North, but is that really enough for the Northern population? Or, considering that the Northern population took a hit in the War of the Five Kings, is there enough manpower to farm enough crops to feed the entire kingdom through a whole Winter? And what about issues like the White Walkers? The Northerners absolutely cannot face that threat without the help of others. So I think it’s clear that independence is not all it’s cracked up to be by some arguments I’ve seen here. 

So, back to Dany. I do think that there have been points in Dany’s arc where her motives could be viewed as questionable to the audience (speaking mostly about show!Dany here). But we can see that has all been resolved now. Dany was tempted by extreme violence and the possibility of attacking and taking King’s Landing by force. We were told more than once in season 7 that Dany could have easily succeeded in doing this. Instead, she chose a better way. Additionally, while Dany started the season adamant on obtaining fealty from Jon with the assurance of keeping the North under her rule in the future, she ended the season with only the will to “save” the Northerners, only the will to fight alongside Jon as an ally, not to dominate the North or strip Jon of his power. 

She explicitly stated in her small council meeting back at Dragonstone in 7.07 that she was not going to conquer the North, she was going to save it. I think this is setting things up for Dany to allow Sansa to rule the North as Queen in the North, just like Yara wanted to do with the Iron Islands, down the line. 

So this places Dany as a happy medium between the disorganized chaos of several independent nations vying for power over one another, and the stricter rule of Aegon I. 

Again, we can turn to historical precedence to confirm this. Dany sails to Westeros from Essos, an exiled royal seeking to take back the throne she feels is her birthright. In the process of doing so, she has helped to halt hostilities between two long-warring families: the Starks and the Lannisters. 

We know that the Starks and the Lannisters represent the Yorks and the Lancasters from the Wars of the Roses in British history and that those wars were ended when Henry Tudor (a royal with a claim to the English throne) traveled to England and married Elizabeth of York, establishing the Tudor dynasty.

So Dany can be seen as a representation of Henry who will marry a Stark/York (Jon), unifying warring houses (the Targaryens, Starks, and Lannisters) and establishing a lasting dynasty. 

The Tudor dynasty was by no means perfect and peaceful. But under Henry Tudor’s son, Henry VIII, the Laws in Wales Act was passed in 1535 that began the process of establishing what is now the United Kingdom. 

For all these reasons, we can conclude that Dany is not a fascist but actually a unifying ruler who will represent a positive shift for Westeros. She has Essos under her power as well, where she abolished slavery and established a tenuous peace. If she is able to rally the whole of Westeros under her banners, there will be something close to world peace on Planetos. Additionally, we know that she will allow autonomous rulers in individual kingdoms, and respect kingdom borders, so long as they abide by her reasonable rules. In doing this, she will be creating a sort of United Kingdom of her own. And all of that will be made possible with a Stark alliance, thereby bolstering the political value of Jonerys as a ship, too.

Anyway, the antis have been saying this sort of stuff about Dany for years now, always insisting that with the next book or season, she’s going to become some evil tyrant and commit some genocide. But she never does, and she never will. We’ve got precedent and context to prove that. (And all of this without even scratching the surface of Dany’s character/behavior and interest in equality and personal freedom.)

[empiregalaxy]

ASOIAF In The Real World.

A couple of months ago, I got an anon asking why I picked certain countries for each ASOIAF ‘continent’. I never could formulate an answer, (to which I really do apologise for) because I found it hard to articulate why certain countries in our world remind me of the places in GRRM’s world. So here I will attempt to answer anon’s question. The original gifset can be found here. 

First- let’s go North.

Beyond The Wall, we have Iceland. I was inspired by the geographic landscape of hot springs, volcanos, glaciers, etc. This is an ‘aesthetic’ choice. Iceland looks and feels like beyond the deep vasts of winter. As an Australian, this inspired my mind to picture where Whitewalkers would roam.

The North, I picked Russia. Russia is a country with a strong sense of pride, and that reminded me of The North in many ways. It’s also a country that has faced numerous difficulties, especially in World War II. If Iceland is an aesthetical pick, Russia is a cultural pick. Russia trains its soldiers for wintertime (giving Hitler and Napolean a nasty surprise or two) and man, there is a nation that will take no one’s shit. The Tsars can be seen as Kings Of Winter in some way. Russia comes across as a country that is very resistant to outside control. 

Don’t try to invade Russia, and don’t try to invade The North. 

The Vale is Austrian. I went to Austria last year, and this just cemented by pick. It’s a very clean, nice, pretty place that is maintained well. They have high standards and expectations. Geographically, there are numerous mountains which fits in nicely with The Vale. Austria, in today’s world distinguishes it from Germany in the EU. Austria does not appear to be after leadership of Europe, but is fine with an inner sense of pride and accomplishment. That seems hard to explain, but Austria left me with a feeling that I was in The Vale. 

Poland as The Riverlands may seem a weird pick. This is inspired by sociology and cultural reasons. Poland has a strong sense of religion in the last 200 years- with Judaism and Catholicism being strong forces. The Riverlands, in ASOIAF is packed with religious leaders and figures. It also has a strong sense of being wartorn- with between 1600 and World War II, Poland has fought for her freedom around 40 times. Poland gives me Tully vibes in the ‘be proud but take no shit’ way. Stereotypical, I know. 

The Westerlands is so English and Anglo-Saxon I could write a whole essay on this. From War of The Roses parallels with both feuding houses coming across as a bit Lannister-like, England has a strong history of establishing an empire / legacy through dominating forces. Seen by outsiders as smug, uppity (British villains wearing suits? C’mon!)- Tywin would feel right at home in London (just not the wet, busy parts). Historians can perceive the English as winners, just how people see the Lannisters as winners in GRRM’s world. That’s far from the truth, but the interpretation many people have greatly inspired this pick. 

Denmark for The Iron Islands has reasons besides Euron’s looks. The strong Viking history, as previous analysis had picked other Scandinavian countries, I looked for something different. It’s also the oldest kingdom in the world- just as the ‘Old ways’ of the Ironborn hail back countless of generations. Whilst Denmark today is vastly different- it has a strong history where the likes of Asha and Victarion Greyjoy would fit right in. 

This is a cliche pick- France being The Reach. There are jokes to be made about how French people are political minds like Margaery Tyrell, but I’ll dig a bit deeper. The flowers and prettiness of Versailles, romantic vibes, chivalry, knighthood, etc. Something about France conjures up beautiful images- as does The Reach (and Margaery’s wardrobe!) 

However, France has a bloody history. When I made that gifset, I considered what the kingdoms would look like in the future. I don’t see a happy ending for the Reach- and like blood on a flower in a Tarantino film, we’ll truly see it burn and plounder. France has had The Reign Of Terror and Nazi occupation. Will The Reach survive? That’s the ominous question I hope my parallel asked. 

Now, to my favourite place in the world- Germany! Okay, I’m a bit biased because I adore The Stormlands as well. Not only is it populous, conflict-driven, known for its treasures and jewels (go into any museum in Frankfurt and try to tell me that Germans don’t have some cool shit). But what really drives this comparison home is the post-World War II period, after Hitler and the Nazis- where Germany was split. This reminds me of people supporting Renly and Stannis. To understand Germany, you have to understand the people and how they reacted. They strike me as a country with strong survival instincts, and we know Baratheons are as tough as nails. I’m imagining Stannis writing an impressive essay about how Germany in the 21st century is avoiding the failures of previous Germanic Empires, lol. 

Belgium, Belgium, Belgium. Not the first country to come to mind when ‘The Crownlands’ is said. Italy, for instance also has the variety and history that it has. But I wanted to give focus to Belgium for several reasons. High tax jokes aside, Belgium has numerous accomplishments in the fields of science and transportation. But my main reason is how urbanized it is. Belgium strikes me as a place where things happen, and Brussels the centre of it is pretty cool in its history. There’s a sense of exportation / importation and it’s pretty impressive and if The Crownlands actually existed, the people of Belgium would give it a field day.

Last but not least, Dorne is Portugal. Ah, the sunny, southern side of Europe! Associated with bright yellows, oranges and reds (and nice food)- Portugal has a long history of bloodstains (Dorne does too) but it’s kind of... not mentioned in my history textbooks. I think people underestimate just how much power Dorne and Portugal could wield. Just look at the Portuguese Empire (hey, I heard they had a place called Brazil). It’s also associated with progression and growth- Portugal abolished slavery in 1761. Some explorers are also from Portugal-  Vasco de Gama for instance. I’m getting Nymeria vibes from alot of Portugal. Like Dorne, Portugal is adaptable (with the Euro).

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Of course, other countries can fit these ASOIAF locations. But these are the ones that fitted my gifset and interpretation of these places. Again, anon I’m sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoyed my response. I think GRRM has created something spectacular with Westeros that makes us view Europe in an interesting light.