#t-thanks gerold...

[2aceofspades]

🌕🌕🌕🌕🎩🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕🌘🌑🌒🌕

🌕🌕🌘🌑🌑🌑🌓

🌕🌖🌑👁️🌑👁️🌓

🌕🌗🌑🌑👄🌑🌔

🌕🌘🌑🌑🌑🌓🌕

🌕🌘🌔🌘🌑🌕🌕

🌖🌒🌕🌗🌒🌕🌕

🌘🌔🌕🌗🌓🌕🌕

👠🌕🌕🌕👠🌕🌕

This is Gerold

He wanted to give u soup and flower

Here is the box with em 🎁

Ah...

~Çrëåtûrē~

[agentrouka-blog]

Now Joffrey is no true stag but he and Jon are foils. The former is bastard parading as a prince and the latter is a prince parading as a bastard.

"Someplace no stag ever found . . . though a dragon might."

Now could this be related to Jonsa ?

Hi there! (The fact that you have deactivated since you sent this ask reflects very badly on my answering speed...)

I do think this also is a jonsa hint, yes. But only in a limited way. Jon maybe a mummer's dragon but ultimately he is a wolf.

But since this loaded sentence occurs in the context of an earnest soul looking for her "sister", I think it's also a very painful hint at the past.

“Are they, now? Poor little things. Had a sister once meself. Skinny girl with knobby knees, but then she grew a pair o’ teats and a knight’s son got between her legs. Last I saw her she was off for King’s Landing t’ make a living on her back.”

“Where did you send them?”

Another shrug. “As t’ that, I can’t recall.”

“Where?” Brienne slapped another silver stag down. He flicked the coin back at her with his forefinger. “Someplace no stag ever found ... though a dragon might.” (AFFC, Brienne III)

Does that not sound a little like Ned trying to find out where Lyanna may be? A place no stag ever found, though a dragon did. But not in a good way.

Nimble Dick reveals Crackclaw Point, a remote and unpopulated region, at an abandoned castle named The Whispers, where Brienne fights three foes, former members of the Brave Companions aka Bloody Mummers:

a Dornishman named Timeon

Shagwell the Fool

a fellow named Pyg (because he looks like a pig)

In a way, they do mirror the three kingsguard at the Tower of Joy:

a dornishman Arthur Dayne

Oswell Whent (known for his dark humor)

Gerold Hightower (err... well, two out of three for similarities)

She wins with the help of her little squire Podrick, who could be said to mirror Howland Reed.

It's a hollow victory for both. Brienne pays a dragon for a bunch of mummers. Ned gets a mummer's dragon.

She buries Nimble Dick with his dragons.

“It was the reward I promised him for finding me the fool.”

Laughter sounded from behind them. She ripped Oathkeeper from her sheath and whirled, expecting more Bloody Mummers … but it was only Hyle Hunt atop the crumbling wall, his legs crossed. “If there are brothels down in hell, the wretch will thank you,” the knight called down. “Elsewise, that’s a waste of good gold.”

“I keep my promises. What are you doing here?”

“Lord Randyll bid me follow you. If by some freak’s chance you stumbled onto Sansa Stark, he told me to bring her back to Maidenpool. Have no fear, I was commanded not to harm you.” (AFFC, Brienne IV)

Promise me, Ned. And a Florian and Jonquil reference is sprinkled into the concept of "wasted gold", or a crown refused.

“Will you help me cover up poor Crabb, ser?”

“No true knight could refuse such beauty.” Ser Hyle climbed down from the wall. Together, they shoved the dirt on top of Nimble Dick as the moon rose higher in the sky, and down below the ground the heads of forgotten kings whispered secrets.

The secrets are buried below the ground, like the dragons. By Ned in the past. By Brienne in the present. Perhaps, in the future, by a true knight and a beauty.

[goodqueenaly]

Hi ,

As someone who's read les rois maudits more than one time, I'd like to hear your opinion on an idea that has sprouted in a corner of my mind lately, could Gerold Lannister(the warden of the west, not the king) have been inspired by Druon's depiction of Philippe le Long, an ambitious regent to an infant ruler, who later proved to be an able leader, and who's reputation was forever tarnished by rumors concerning the strange manner of death of his nephew/niece?

It's certainly possible that GRRM was thinking, and/or will in the future think, of Philip V when writing about Gerold Lannister, but I don't find the parallel particularly strong myself. I don't see any evidence - yet, certainly - that Gerold was particularly grasping or ambitious: TWOIAF only describes him as "[a] genial man, known to be exceedingly clever" and eventually an "exceptionally shrewd, able, and fair-minded lord" (and indeed, depending on when Gerold married Rohanne, he might be seen as less ambitious than usual - choosing, out of love for her, to be a jure uxoris minor lord of the Reach instead of the right-hand man of the Lord of Casterly Rock). Too, determining whether a character or plot point comes from a specific point of influence or a general creative trope is not always easy: in writing Gerold as the uncle-regent to his elder brother's child who is then rumored to have killed the child to take power for himself, was the author thinking of Philip V in The Accursed Kings specifically or the common trope of the Evil Uncle? (Which is of course something GRRM is very much aware of - look at, say, Cregan Stark rebelling against his grasping regent-uncle Bennard Stark, or Alys Karstark fleeing the schemes of her "uncles" Cregan and Arnolf, who had seized power at Karhold.) Too, I don't think Philip V's reputation was particularly tarnished by rumors that he had arranged his nephew's death: while he himself ruminated, shortly after the event, on "the other crime, the murder of the child, which he equally had not ordered but of which he was the silent accomplice, almost the inspirer" and there was an accusation brought against Mahaut of Artois for killing him, Hughes de Bouville revealed to Pope John XXII that the case came out in Mahaut's favor (thanks to torture of witnesses and admissions often "against [the] private convictions" of those testifying, according to Bouville); Druon, in his single chapter overview of Philip V's reign, barely mentions Jean's death at all. Additionally, though we have little for the moment on Gerold's political outlook or beliefs, I don't see much in the way of similarity between Gerold's style of rule and Philip's; there is no mention during Gerold's tenure of concern for the rights of non-aristocrats or reform of the law, as we see with Philip V, and while Gerold was busy increasing the prosperity of House Lannister, Druon describes Philip V's reign as being marked by complaints about a lack of funds (because, as Druon explains, "[i]t was no doubt too soon as yet for the people to grasp that justice and peace were necessarily expensive"). (And, of course, as a minor point of clarification, we are comparing here a three-year old lady who died within a year of coming to power and an infant king who died within five days of becoming king - a minor difference, perhaps, but worth noting if we are specifically considering this as a potential parallel.)

All of this is to say, I think the more direct parallel between Druon's Philip V and something in ASOIAF will be with our Egg, the someday Aegon V. (That they happen to share a regnal number is either a fun coincidence or another point of comparison, depending on when GRRM started considering the parallel.) Like Philip, Aegon was a younger son of the king; while Egg had two older dynast brothers (as well as Aemon, legally removed from the succession after taking maester's vows) and Philip one elder and one younger brother, I tend to think GRRM divided the personality of Louis X (and, to some extent, the youngest brother, Charles) between Daeron and Aerion. Like Philip (whom Druon consistently calls a "great king"), Egg is clearly the author's favorite of this generation of princes: “handsome, strong yet somehow kindly, approachable” in GRRM's own words, an intelligent, brave, and good-hearted boy whom we are watching grow up through the Tales of Dunk and Egg. As Louis X left as his only children a toddler girl (suspected of illegitimacy due to her mother's affair with Philippe d'Aunay, which is an argument brought up to keep her from the throne) and an unborn boy, so at the time of Maekar's death his first two sons had left as their issue a young girl (who is similarly dismissed from the possibility of taking power, this time due to being "simple-minded") and an infant boy. While Egg does become king, as Philip V did (I've even speculated on the possibility that baby Maegor will die as an infant as Jean I did), neither reign is considered a success in-universe, and for similar reasons. Philip V, so Druon notes, "had been a wise King, careful of the public good", whose acts included 'reorganiz[ing] the law so it might be applied with greater equity", developing the "emancipation of the serfs" so that he could "reign over a people who enjoyed the ‘true liberty’ with which nature had endowed them", and "preferr[ing] negotiation to foolish military escapades", which (as I mentioned above) were unpopular measures; accordingly, he died as "a lonely man who was too much in advance of his time ... misunderstood by his subjects", and "[t]he great barons ... contemplated the death agonies of the young King they had never loved with a certain satisfaction". Aegon V, for his part, "enacted numerous reforms and granted rights and protections to the commons that they had never known before" which "provoked fierce opposition and sometimes open defiance amongst the lords"; within a few years of his death, in the reign of his grandson Aerys II, Tywin as Hand "won the approbation of many great lords by repealing what remained of the laws Aegon V had enacted to curb their powers".

(Which is not to say that a source of inspiration can only apply once, of course; after all, I think of the story of baby Jean I as inspiring both Aerion's son Maegor and Mance's son in the main novels.)

[indigosandviolets]

Hello! I’m not sure if your doing inglorious basterds requests rn but if you areeee I’d love to request first impression/ first interaction (smutty or clean :-) ) with the reader for the main characters and Hirschberg too:) I love him and he always gets left out. Hope you are staying safe during these times!❤️❤️❤️

of course! Hirschberg is incredibly underrated and i stand by you with that. the role of the reader in each of these is a little bit different, so enjoy!

Aldo Raine

Aldo immediately was curious about you when he first laid his eyes on you

a girl? a girl soldier? in HIS LINEUP? he had to see to believe it

you stood between Wicki and Utivich, and to be honest? you were kind of terrifying

(is this in part to almost everyone being more intimidating that Utivich? yes, yes it is.)

you were given the same expectations as everyone else, and boy, did you fucking meet them

he took a liking to you, in his words, “mighty quick”

you didn’t fuck around, and he liked that, so he made you a corporal (and his girlfriend)

“Private L/N, I need a word.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Two things. Private ain’t the best word to use for you, so I’m bumping you up to Corporal.”

“Thank you, sir. What’s the second thing?”

“Well, I don’t really like Corporal either. What do you suggest?”

“How about ‘doll’?”

YEAH, HE WAS DEFINITELY IN LOVE AFTER THAT

Donny Donowitz

he’s actually embarrassed about his first impression of you

Donny was really not sure about why they needed you the first time he saw you

you were a combat nurse, which meant you were a T-4, which technically made you two the same rank, which he kinda didn’t like? but that’s not the point

the point was he didn’t understand because he’s a bit of a dumbass, okay?

he didn’t really get why until his dumbass got shot in the arm and you were yelling at him about how much of an idiot he was

“For fuck’s sake, Donny! What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t go out and get yourself killed, the fuck am I supposed to do if you die? Replace you? How the fuck do you expect me to bash in Nazi skulls? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

This dumbass, who now has morphine in him, says, “You’re so pretty when you’re angry.”

“What?”

you almost beat his ass worse than the Nazis would have

he totally faked it hurting so you would talk to him more lmao

now, afterwards, did you hang around and talk with him about baseball long after his injury had healed? yes.

did the equal passion for baseball also make him fall in love with you? yes

does he love combat nurses a whole hell of a lot now? also, yes

Hugo Stiglitz

honestly? he wasn’t in the least bit shocked when the Basterds came to save him and he saw you shoot one of the Nazis

he was shocked, however, when you told him you were kind of unimpressed with his work

“What do you mean, ‘unskilled’?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m just saying that I killed more Nazis in two weeks than you did in your little spree.”

did this start a rivalry-based love? maybe.

his main goal became not to impress Aldo, but impress you

he’s actually a lil bit shy around you but it’s cool

eventually one day he’s decides fuck it and asks, “Can I hold your hand?”

it’s very cute, and the rivalry is dropped

but not forgotten

Donny still keeps count of who has the most kills and when

Wilhelm Wicki

Wicki thought you were really corny funny when he first met you

this is because you guys met before the war in a little bar

you decided to spark up some conversation

“So,” you say, turning to face Wicki, “A college girl and a lonely guy walk into a bar and sit down beside each other.”

“What happens after that?”

“I don’t know. You wanna tell me?”

this results in you two meeting at the same bar day after day at the same time

and him learning that you are incredibly smart and that you’re not one to play very many games that aren’t funny ones

he eventually learns the way you take your coffee and he figures to go ahead and order it for you when he shows up a little earlier than usual

that’s the day he asked you out and it’s sweet as hell

you two start dating and end up going to war together (here’s the link for that)

Smithson Utivich

oh uti thought you were hot from the get-fucking- GO

you were also a Sergeant, and you stood on the opposite side of Donny when Aldo was describing what he’d been doing as a Basterd

like this boy was in fucking love with you and scared of you at the same exact time

and he knew you were smart because you immediately could tell that he was into you

you didn’t bring it up but you both knew

this boy is also awkward as FUCK

things slip out and he can’t control it and he hates himself for it but it’s okay

“Uti, can you hand me that whiskey?”

“Sure. You’re really pretty.”

“Thanks. You’re pretty too, Uti.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

he’s the only one allowed to call you by your first name too and it’s funny as hell

Gerold Hirschberg

Hirschberg was entranced by your presence the first time he saw you

you aren’t exactly the easiest to be around so him attempting to get to know you was a long shot

but this guy tried, alright? he did everything he could to get in your line of sight

the first time you two met was when you were transferred from an Airbourne unit and you dropped in before the basterds and met them after hiding out with the french resistance

so he heard you speak a little french and he thought it was cool as shit

and spent the next month trying to get you say something in french

“C’mon, please? Pretty please?”

“For the love of- va te faire foutre, Hirschberg.”

“Yes! What does it mean?”

“It means, kiss my ass, Gerry.”

he was a pain in the ass that you fell in love with

hey, sometimes persistence is key when you’re fighting a war

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Alliance (Inglourious Basterds Imagine)

Requested by @owba-chan, thanks again love! :) <3

Let me know if you guys wanna be tagged in these :)

Once upon a time in Nazi-Occupied France...

You were in the same cafe you visited each afternoon. You had a job to do, aside from your homework. You, like every other student, got no sleep.

Your afternoon coffee was a necessity. The warm, comforting cup, and strong awakening scent was welcome. You never got tired of it, and you didn't think you ever would.

You looked at your notes...the tiresome, boring, endless drabble that went from neatly organized ideas to hasty chicken scratches. With a sigh, you set it back in your school bag, and discretely pulled out a book you really should not even be seen with in public: La Silence de la Mer.

It was banned...

Then again, so were most of the things and people you loved.

And anyway... there usually weren't any nazis around there. You knew that. The other tired students knew that.

And the basterds knew that.

Everyone was irritated when the calm, relaxed ambience was disrupted by low grumbling of men. Still, everyone was apathetic...and tired....

You had a good ear. You had to, in your line of work.

"Work..." You smiled a little. Is it really work if you love what you do?

You took a puff at your cigarette, one of the habits you just recently picked up. You loved work, but it stressed you out.

That...and of course your anthropology exam.

Anyway, you tapped out some ashes, and picked up your book as you read on. Or...pretended to. You really listened in on the grumbling.

It was English.

And it was kind of your job to pick up on these sort of things...

"What the fuck's that mean?" Aldo muttered, frustrated with Omar and Smitty. The boys never did seem to catch a break.

Hugo shook his head slowly, his eyes narrow in confusion, "That's not...that's not German."

Smithson sighed as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, "I know. I know, Wicki. But that's what it sounded like!"

Donny suggested, "If you say it one more time, nice and slow maybe they'll get something..."

Omar nodded, "Ok. It sounded like tunnel....undies....them....glass....she....gain....off..."

Wicki cracked his knuckles, hoping he'd get it this time, "Did it sound like...tunnel unter dem Glas stiegen auf?" He shook his head in embarassment, that didn't make any sense to begin with, that-

"Yes! Yes! That's it!" Utivich's eyes and smile were wide, and bright as he and Omar looked at each other nodding.

Hugo frowned, and looked to Wicki in confusion..."Was heißt das überhaupt?" 'What's the even mean....'

Wicki shrugged, and looked back at the basterds, "Are you sure that's what you heard?"

You happened to also understand German... you didn't have much of a choice.  Your English was a bit rusty, but as you exited the cafe to head to your job, you tried to help them out a little, "Sounds like code for Notre Dame."

There was a wave of stunned silence washing over the basterds as they each took a moment to look you over...

...with suspicion.

Hirschberg murmured in awe, and confusion, "What?"

You didn't mind the informalities. You shrugged, "You said glas stiegen. That's German for glass and rose. Windows in the cathedral are called rose windows...and...they're made of glass. That's all." You took a step forward, but were blocked by a tall, intimidating man. One you'd come to know as Sergeant Donny Donowitz. 

Another man, their leader, spoke up from the booth. "Why don't you sit with us for a bit, missy."

You raised an eyebrow. You were young, but you understood it wasn't an invitation, per se.

You obliged as to not raise an alarm...which was also part of your job.

You took a seat between one confused Gerold Hirschberg and a very annoyed Hugo Stiglitz.

The leader, bit his cheek as he gazed at you, trying to figure you out. Whose side were you on? "Where'dya get that idea from, little lady?"

It was then that the cafe's atmosphere was once again disturbed. This time by an unruly, group of men, loud and proud. You excused yourself with such ease, it stunned the basterds again. You didn't go very far to begin with. You understood they had guns on them. You could smell the gunpowder...which wasn't very common around Paris at the time.

"Dmitri. Idi domoi. Ti takhoy vredytel.' You stood in front of the leader of the new group. A group of Russian boys that you may or may  not have been acquainted with at work. They were mountains compared to you. But they respected you, and knew not to ever question you. You told Dimitri to go home, and...called him a pest.

He understood. His men understood.

They left. They'd get an explanation later, and they knew it.

You moved back to the booth...and waited... Suddenly, the basterds scrambled back to let you back in. This time you sat by  an even more confused Zimmerman, and Wicki.

Donny's eyes narrowed as he looked at the other group of men that made their way to the curb, and then back at the table, "Were those russkies?!"

"Yes, yes... My apologies, I have an atrocious accent, and they have even worse timing."

Aldo furrowed his eyebrows, "Atrocious? That's gotta be the pertiest goddamn accent I ever heard."

As impressive as it was that you could speak French, English, Russian, and German, (that they knew of) they still didn't know what to make of you and your help.

They were all...understandably... holding guns under the table, all aimed at you.

Hirschberg nudged Smitty...they'd been trying to work on Smithson's tough act, which was rooted in an argument he'd had with Donny, in which Smitty argued that 'size doesn't matter' when it comes to intimidation.

"YoU...You uh" he cleared his throat, "You got anything to say, sweetheart?" He cringed at himself...though Omar whispered a proud, 'nice...' under his breath.... it certainly was an improvement.

You simply sighed, "Can't expect anything else from a basterd, no?" You smiled slyly as you took a sip from your coffee.

They were all silent. Aldo nodded, soaking it in, and noted, "You know who we are..."

You couldn't help but giggle a little, though you quickly covered your lips. "You don't do a very good job of hiding it."

Aldo lowered his gun, "What in the hell's that mean, kid?"

You gestured at Donny, "Your tall friend. I've only heard the story of one American that carries a baseball bat around, and  there aren't quite as many baseball games around here now." You looked at Smithson Utivich, and made a quick assumption, based on...his size..."The little one..."

Smitty caught on, and frowned, narrowing his eyes,

"The Germans call him, well the li-"

Aldo pushed with a question, "Do you know our names?"

You nodded,  "It's not that hard to recognize Hugo Stiglitz. Everyone knows who he is."

Hugo simply gave you a stoic nod. He didn't know what to make of you, but young as you were...you did know your stuff.

Hirschberg wasn't so sure, "Maybe everyone in the German army..."

Aldo nodded, "And somethin' tells me you ain't in the goddamn German army."

You shrugged. You already had enough to deal with that day. A snobbish professor, an even snobbier date that stood you up, a paper to do, and you still had work. An interrogation was not on your itinerary, "Too true, Monsieur." You picked up your coffee again, and took a sip.

Aldo sat back in frustration, "Alright. You ain't no jerry, what the hell are you?"

"I'm a student."

Omar nodded, seeing you were young, maybe around Smitty's age, "Makes sense..."

Aldo wasn't done. "Where you studyin' little lady?"

"At the University of Paris!" You were quite proud of that. "I'm studying art...which.." Your smile faded as you sighed. You looked down at your cup, your fingertips tapping softly against it as you slowly twisted it back and forth. "It's...kind of a useless degree right now... a lot of what I'm studying is missing."

Utivich was entranced by your words.... He would've been a student too, if not for the war. In fact, he was enrolled, and excited to study in NYU... he wanted to be a lawyer some day.... Then he enlisted. It was a decision he made over night. Because the moment he realized what the nazis were really doing, being a lawyer wasn't enough to find justice.

'Well this might as well happen today too...' You were used to things not going as planned, and you were used to getting some third degree. You knew who the basterds were. Most people in your line of work did...or had at least heard a rumor. You pulled your small backpack over to the table top, and said "Go ahead."

Aldo glanced at Donny and nodded. Donny reached for the bag tentatively. He pulled out your ntoebook.

"Whatcha got, Donowitz?"

Donny frowned, "I don't know, Aldo, it's in French!"

Hugo rolled his eys, and reached for the ntoebook. He had working knowledge of French. "Let me see." He flipped through the pages, and what he could read, he nodded, "School notes."

Utivich reached for the notes. He wouldn't understand a word...but sometimes...he missed school. He wondered what it would've been like to be a college kid.

Then he remembered how much he loved being a basterd.  He flipped through the pages. Towards the end, they were blank...and then they had more than scratches on them. They were sketches.

They were beautiful. "What the fuck..." His voice trailed off in awe, and it was passed around the table.

Hirschberg leaned over some basterds, "What is it?!"

You blushed a little, and looked back down, "Just, how do you say....doodles?"

Utivich shook his head. When he was in school, he doodled. "Those aren't doodles. That's fucken art."

Wicki noticed something. A sketch or two that looked familiar. Then one they all identified. The Mona Lisa.

Donny caught on, "Hey...I know that one."

Wicki looked at you, "Why're you copying all these paintings down?"

"I'm an art student...and all these pieces are either being eyed by nazis, or are already stolen...It's nice to have something to remember them by."

After a few sketches, there were more blank pages, and then other drawings. These were detailed. They weren't just rough sketches. They had been done out of love, not memory. They were all faces. They were all unique.

They were all people that had been stolen.

But....in your line of work...that was normal...

You reached for the notebook. "So, it's settled. Student."

"B-"

You shut the cover, and held on to the precious memories, pressing them against your chest. "If you really need to know, there's a piece of information in that bag that would get me killed if you weren't you. Go ahead."

Aldo nodded at Hugo and Omar. They extracted a textbook or two, a few pencils, loose crumpled, illegible notes, and a locket.

Omar picked up the locket by the chain. It was silver, and had beautiful engravings of flowers on the outside.  Aldo gave an approving glance and Omar opened it.  

"Um.... poor...y/n... moon-port, Ben-Hur...aveys...tote moon amour, Emile."

Hugo frowned and took the locket from him, muttering about his uselessness in German. Before he could begin to read it, you spoke. You knew it by heart. "Pour y/n, mon porte-bonheur, avec tout mon amour, Emile... Emile Loveitt. For his good luck, with all his love." You smiled a little. Emile and his family escaped.  They were somewhere in England. He was your friend, always had been, and always would be. The hand you had in the escape was the reason you got your job.... which was your only saving grace at the moment.

"Look behind the picture."

Hugo carefully took the picture of the unknown friend out of the locket, revealing a cross of Lorraine engraved in the silver, it was the symbol for the French Resistance. "She's telling the truth. She’s in the resistance."

Aldo still wasn't sure. He wasn't willing to let his team be taken down. He knew all about double agents and collaborators in France. "How do we know you are y/n?" He'd managed to pick your name out of the phrase in the locket's engraving. "How do we know you ain't just pick this up somewhere?"

"Look inside that book." You gestured to the one under all the notes and pens.

Wicki shuffled through the stack on the table and picked it out. Anthropology.

He opened it... and the pages were hollowed out.

Inside was an identification. He handed it to Hugo, and he read it out loud. "Carte de Combattant Volontaire de la Resistance: Y/N." He hid it back in the book and shut it. "She's in the French resistance. Y/n is really her name. Born in Paris."

Aldo smiled a little as he put everything back into your backpack. "Well if it ain't an ally... You a terrible spy, I gotta say."

You chuckled a little, "I'm not a spy. I'm just French. I want a free France."

"Well yeah. But you're in the resistance aintcha?"

"I'm a student. I'm tired, and I'm pissed. Not because of exams...well... also because of exams, but mostly because this isn't France."

You stood up,  picked up your school bag, and went to the door. You looked back, "Are you coming or not?"

Aldo looked at his men and they all stood up and followed you put. "Where exactly are we going?" Kagan  frowned as he made his way by you, followed by Sakowitz, Zimmerman, and Utivich.

"Work." You turned and walked out of the cafe nonchalantly, putting on your backpack.

Omar walked by you, "And where is that?"

"Today? The catacombs under Notre Dame."

Donny nodded, "Ohh... a death trap, huh?"

Stiglitz huffed, "Donny."

You smiled as you led the burly, clueless men down the lesser known streets and alleys. "We have a dozen or so people we need to get out of France, to England. A few people, some paintings, and some very damning documents."

Omar nodded, having trouble following along, "And these tunnels are important becase..."

You shrugged, "Secondary location. Contacts exchange products here...in this case refugees, priceless art, and documents. The people are being snuck to England, the art to a warehouse in Switzerland owned by a friend of ours, a double agent actually, and the documents to any ally that will listen. But, if what you two say is true," you looked to Omar and Smitty and said, "Then the nazis know about it. So, I have to... clock in early." You planned to warn the others. You couldn't postpone the evacuations. The families you were helping had nowhere else to hide, and they didn't have much time left. Those documents were a smoking gun. And the art... you didn't just do sketches to remember things you would never see again, you were part of a ring keeping track of the stolen pieces.

Aldo pieced it together  "Ain't no way you delaying the escapes, is there, y/n?"

"No, sir." You trudged through the back of an abandoned inn.

Aldo nodded, "Alright then. Listen here boys. Behave. Them French fighters know what they want. Don't get in nobody's way, make sure everyone's supposed to get out, gets out. Every nazi that gets in, they ain't goin no place."

The basterds followed you down the catacombs, and met with your superiors. You translated back and forth. The mission would proceed, just as you expected. The nazis were spotted a few blocks away, just as suspected. And the basterds did what they did best, just as needed.

By 2AM, the Parisian south west was relatively void of nazis. There were over a dozen people free of persecution, halfway across the English channel, and a few priceless works of art accounted for.

You just had an essay to write.... And a few lost basterds to guide. You had been a little more silent than usual. Complications arose during the mission. In the end, everything ended as it was meant to.

The only difference was that you were covered in blood. You'd killed a nazi, for the very first time, in an attempt to save Private First Class Smithson Utivich. It was something the basterds would never forget. Neither would you... You were proud of it. You didn't hesitate. The world needed the basterds. "You know of somewhere we can hide out for the night, Y/n?"

You nodded. "Normally the catacombs, but I'm sure there were more that heard of the operation. No one is safe there now...but..." You once again eyed the empty inn that you passed by earlier. "No one's stepped foot in there in a few years. You'd be safe there."

You helped them break in. It was dusty, dark, and abandoned. It was a shadow of what it once was. Almost everything was covered in sheets. You'd done it yourself, hoping to save it all in case there was a chance of saving the France you once knew....in case they came back... Moonlight was the only lighting, coming in through windows so old, there was a film of filfth and dust covering the glass. Still, the ancient mahogany floor seemed flawless. The furniture and welcoming wallpaper held in the laughter and love of generations of visiting families and couples. It was small, but warm, and had an air of elegance. You spent so many days of your life there, Emile's family had owned it for generations. They gave you your first chance, your first home, your first job. Years later, you gave them another chance, a safe passage to a new home with your new job. The inn was nothing without them.

It was forgotten.

And it was the basterds' for the taking. If it could be a home for someone, you had no problem with it.

Andy Kagan and Omar smiled as they all looked around. Abandoned as it was, it was a palace compared to their tents."Can we stay here?"

As much as it would give them some well needed warm beds, they were basterds. Their work was never done. Donny sighed, "We need to head to Strasbourg tomorrow."

You smiled a little, understanding what was happening. You made a suggestion, "Take the 4 o clock train to Mulhous. Tell the girl at the booth in the station I sent you. She'll show you a path that has a fork.  The northeastern road will take you straight there.... The northwest is the scenic route, takes a bit longer, you'll pass  a little town that has the best eclaires. It'll take a few more hours, but you'll get a scalp or two...dozen on the way." You smiled a little wishing them all the luck in the world.

Utivich smiled, realizing, like the others, that you really knew a thing or two, "You don't wanna come with us?"

You had heard stories of them, and you wanted more than anything to stick around with them... "I have a paper to write..."

The basterds chuckled, and Aldo stepped up. The basterds always had room for one more, but you didn't. What with school, and the 'job' they all admired you for, you didn't have much time to run around France with them, even though you wanted to. They knew you were a smart kid, in fact, it was the only reason they could think of that you were still alive. They saw the kind of work you did in one night, and realized how valuable you were. 

They also realized how important you had become to them in a matter of hours. They wanted to keep an eye out for you. As capable as you were, war was war, and there were no rules. They wanted to make sure you were safe. Aside from that, you had some pretty helpful information for them. "How's about we make you an honorary basterd, y/n?" Aldo reached his hand out, and you smiled as you shook it. "I'm honored, lieutenant." That was an understatement. All the stories you'd listened to on the bleakest, most dangerous nights were about them. They rushed back into your head as you shook his hand, smiling. This alliance meant the world to you. Your rebellion and insubordination were automatic death sentences. But what the alliance, the resistance, and the basterds were, what they really were to you, was freedom.

You waved goodbye to them, though you wished you could've gone, you knew it wasn't over.

It was the beginning of something beautiful,something powerful, far more than an alliance.

[dcrkstcr]

lovely peeps ! i am nina, a low-lifer in the GMT+2 area, which means I'll be off and on at all the wrong hours. this is my sideblog to my main besotted hoe (daario) and will be portraying edgelord of twarthed ambition, softer-hair-than-thou gerold dayne ! my discord is @trash arthurian character#7149 'cause i'm a sl*t for all things camelot & myth. below you find gerold’s intro, five headcanons & a wee bit regarding possible ploints; these might be added to as plot progresses .

♔  →  westeros  presents  SER GEROLD DAYNE “DARKSTAR”,  the  KNIGHT  of  HIGH HERMITAGE,  branch  to  STARFALL.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  ALEXANDER DREYMON.  the  TWENTY-NINE  year  old  MALE  was  DARING & FAR-REACHING  before  the  dawn  of  war,  but  have  now  become  RESENTFUL & ENSNARED.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  CURLED LOCKS WRAPPED AROUND DEFT FINGERS, MANUSCRIPTS CRUMPLED INTO A FIST, WHITE KNUCKLES, WHETSTONE SHRIEKING AGAINST A SWORD’S LETHAL EDGE.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  THEMSELVES,  but  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.

1/5 hcs: His personality, ambition and grievances are compliant with ASOIAF canon. Gerold has it engraved in blood that he will never reach a renown even half comparable to that of his deceased cousin, Arthur Morningstar. It embitters him, and has done so since he was young, head whirling with aborted dreams of glory.

2/5 hcs: However, the acknowledgement that he will never make history only dampens his spirit, not puts it out. Nothing can nullify his attempts to forge his own name, even if it must be one cast in darkness rather than gold. The reputation he has garnered as the most dangerous man in Dorne is something he tends to, like some men tend to gardens, like some tend to their very thirst.

3/5 hcs: He has no allegiance to the young Lord of Starfall, and would gladly crush him under his heel if he could. He has no living family, and it is a loss hardly mourned, as any mewling siblings or dotting aunts would only chip away at the awe & fear surrounding his reputation.

4/5 hcs: From an early age, when he realized he would never run the main bloodline of Dayne no matter how many successors he eliminated, Gerold had decided to side with the Martells. He entered Arianne's personal guard when she was no more than a teen, but even then possessed the force to bring whole armies to ruin.

5/5 hcs: The following headcanon, which is to boot the most important one, is heavily reliant on the next plotpoints, as well as the wanted connections that will get taken up & the mun's own visions for their characters. Long story short, the failed coup in which Darkstar & Arianne attempt to crown Myrcella never happens. He never falls from grace, and, as Doran's mind grows heavy with thoughts of war, with the flapping of wings above their heads, the Prince of Dorne pays less and less heed to his daughter. Arianne is free to either marry Darkstar (plot point one) or continue her schemes and vie for power in her own way.

plot point #1: gerold marries arianne, as hinted at by this quote ( thank you, GRRM, for providing us with the most Iconic Toxic Duo of the era ) and they become enmeshed in their own distrust & foiled ambitions.

He is highborn enough to make a worthy consort, she thought. Father would question my good sense, but our children would be as beautiful as dragonlords. If there was a handsomer man in Dorne, she did not know him.

plot point #2: they are not lawfully married ( if the other player does not wish it ) but he still remains in her service, awaiting the sweep of hand that will bring his plans to fruition. he has played all cards on her name, and her potential to mold Dorne in her will, and would not back out now. not even with the whispers of certain doom coiling around them.

*lyssa peake: he becomes entangled in his own affair, the direct opposite of what he had ( or could ever have ) with arianne. lyssa peake, the widow of a turncloak lordling, becomes a mirrored fragment, a twofold reflection of arianne's every trait. where his princess of dorne is resilient, lyssa is pliant, adaptable, winding through circumstances and the hearts of men. where arianne is spitfire sharp wit, lyssa is culture, womanly arts, tales spoken before the hearth. darkstar, who already no longer knows where his malice ends and arianne's begins, will have to choose between more than two war camp sides.

[artbookdap]

We are delighted to #Repost @wolfgang_tillmans ・・・Released just before Christmas, this book should now be in stores. It took a year and a half to edit and compile, Thank you Roxana Marcoci @roxanamarcoci and Phil Taylor @i_phil_taylor and MoMA Publishing for editing the book and the hours spent reading texts from 1989 till today, well 2020. Designed by the brilliant Joseph Logan @joslog incorporating my favourite T-shirt color. Carmen Brunner @_carmenbrunner and Jennifer Hope Davy @jhd.name worked tirelessly editing the book with me from the studio side in Berlin, from getting all texts out of the archives and preparing them to discussing with Roxana, Phil and myself. At my studio especially Dan Ipp @danipp and Armin Lorenz Gerold @wiredfoxterrier prepared the visual material and graphic pre-production. Huge thanks to all and the entire team WTS. This book will be followed by the exhibtion catalog at the end of spring / early summer and finally: September 12 until December 31 the exhibtion on the entire sixth floor of MoMA on 53rd Street. Touring to SFMoMA, San Francisco and Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto in 2023. The idea and possibility of this project was first mentioned to me in June 2014 ... I'm incredibly grateful that it passed all stages of uncertainty and planning of the past seven years. 🙏 #lavender #moma #wolfgangtillmans https://www.instagram.com/p/CZfBHLzp6w1/?utm_medium=tumblr

[m-gut-blog]

Gerlin Gerold’s daughter from Götegburg

So Gerlin is a character I created for the small course of character design.

Gerlin or Gerold how she is called in her small home town is the towns executioner/es. Her Father the former hangman raced her as a boy for he knew no better. After her mother had died in child labor, Gerlin’s father felt that she wouldn’t have had a secure future as the daughter of a hangman, for her marriage options would be extremely limited due to her heritage. So Gerlin was raced as Gerold trained to be the town next hangman. She never knew any other way of live than to life with death as her companion.

Close to her hometown a battle was fought. The neighboring country had just overthrown their king in a full on civil war. The revolutionist had won and now the revolution was spreading across the borders reaching Gerlin’s country. Over the towns wall the smoke of the fight where clearly visible.

More often Gerlin had to interrogate leaders of the other party to find out their plans. Gerlin started to recognize a greater picture, witch lead to her starting to urge to make a real difference in this war. Being feed up with only doing the dirty work for her superiors she began to feel trap in her job and her live. One of her convicts, a cunning officer of the revolution seeing her unsatisfaction made her a deal she couldn’t resist…

Escaping to the other side and joining the revolutionist made Gerlins live even more difficult: Now she was not only hiding the fact that she was a woman, but she was also amongst the enemies ranks. Then Georg another officer of the revolution starts messing with her and between the two very deferent people a strange friendship starts to form. Georg the calm, intelligent a but a bit weak-willed officer one day walks in on her while taking a needed bath, uncovering her best kept secret…

The story of Gerlin has jet to unravel itself. I found her to be a fascinating personality to explore for there are so many conflicts to study.

 In the course my character was chosen by my colleagues to further work with an to a character design of. So I will but their links down below, so you can take a look at they're  takes on Gerlin, fore I find them to be very cool and it was fascinating to see how my character was interpreted by different peoples.

Thank you so much.

Links to:

https://pumpkintiger.tumblr.com

https://t-vert.tumblr.com

http://kat-animation.tumblr.com

[1000sassa1000]

Last chance to see our unique space in Pitti Uomo 93 Would be great friends you come over 5 Curators/one space In Pitti Uomo 93 @pittimmagine on the first floor at Costruzioni Lorenesi, @tmichael_bergen, the designer famous for innovation in his bespoke creations, presents “5 CURATORS/ ONE SPACE/”. Five fashion insiders and designers: Gerold Brenner (I‘m wearing Marc Point @marc_point on this shoot & thanks to Ganriel @cioaca_gabriel for this shoot) Tom Stubbs @styleanderror Harris Elliott @harriselliott Noriaki Moriguchi @gqmoriguchi T-Michael @tmichael_bergen talk about the creative ability of nine brands in a showcase that taps into the zeitgeist of contemporary style in fashion I'm happy to curate - Marc Point of @marc_point - Ilya Varegin of @iinfundibulum & the other brands are involved are @soar_running, @BiancaSaunders_, @labrumlondon, @neat_tokyo , @NorwegianRain, @tmichael_bergen, @yandsons #geroldbrenner #pittimmagine #pitti #pittiuomo #pitti93 #pittiuomo93 #influencer #curator #fashion #mensfashion #tmichael #5curatorsonespace #fashion #fashionblogger #blogger #influencer #menstyle #menswear #mensfashion (hier: Pitti Immagine)

[themindofamadartist]

SOLD! Sprint of stoner Gerold for one of her family members-super iconic character from #heyarnold thanks for the love she also purchased another piece ——stay tuned posting within minutes!!!!! ⏭swipe to see MORE🔺 Need art contact me today !! Art By: @_MADARTIST © Email : Mad.Artistco@gmail.com you can R E P O S T THIS! DM for request and inquiries. #_MADARTIST #love #urbanart #graphics #handpainted #illustration #acryliconcanvas #canvas #newyork #newjersey #pinturaacrílica #highquality #spraypaint #customwork #screenprinter #acrylicpaint #blackbook #sketchaday #lesbian #艺术 #graffitiartist #tattooartist #graffiti #tattoo #アート (at Englewood, New Jersey) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5BljvgBDid/?igshid=o05drdh97std

[themindofamadartist]

Sold! My beloved #gerold from #heyarnold 😢sad to see my guy go but I know he is in a safe new home 🏡! Thanks to @thebeautifulmelaninqueen it was great meeting you and I have more pictures to post !!!! ⏭swipe to see MORE🔺 Need art contact me today !! Art By: @_MADARTIST © Email : Mad.Artistco@gmail.com you can R E P O S T THIS! DM for request and inquiries. #_MADARTIST #love #urbanart #graphics #handpainted #illustration #acryliconcanvas #canvas #newyork #newjersey #pinturaacrílica #highquality #spraypaint #customwork #screenprinter #acrylicpaint #blackbook #sketchaday #lesbian #艺术 #graffitiartist #tattooartist #graffiti #tattoo #アート (at Englewood, New Jersey) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4-z4nKhGQy/?igshid=h8y498uto70o