#They are just enemies for you to kill and the morality of immediately slaughtering dragons in their own sacred spaces and homes

[tovaicas]

sorry I'm whinging about these dungeons again bc I just hate them

[tinyshe]

still worth reading ... more now than ever:

The Kraken Unleashed: Are We Ready to Fight the Beast?

Father Richard Heilman  January 14, 2015

“And I saw a beast rising out of the sea, having ten horns and seven heads; and on its horns were ten diadems, and on its heads were blasphemous names.  And the beast that I saw was like a leopard, its feet were like a bear’s, and its mouth was like a lion’s mouth. And the dragon gave it his power and his throne and great authority.  One of its heads seemed to have received a death-blow, but its mortal wound had been healed. In amazement the whole earth followed the beast. They worshiped the dragon, for he had given his authority to the beast, and they worshiped the beast, saying, “Who is like the beast, and who can fight against it? – Revelation 13:1-10

“In the 2010 film, Clash of the Titans, there is a scene in which Zeus, angry with the humans, is persuaded by Hades to visit vengeance upon the mortals in the form of the Kraken, a giant monster from the depths of the sea. The visual of this great evil being unleashed is something to behold:

“If this scene is evocative, perhaps it is because it’s familiar. Like a Kraken released, we have a colossal problem in our world today. There are few who are not stunned by the growing specter of evil; a darkness more profound and spreading more quickly across the globe than any civilized human being could have ever imagined. Many of those I speak with have admitted that they now abstain completely from watching the news: “It’s just too much,” they say. “It’s just so horrifying!”

“For the past two years I have been confiding to close friends my own growing sense that something is happening, that something unholy is stirring. I have spoken with others who have admitted the same suspicion. The way I have tried to describe it in the past is like the rumblings felt just before a volcano explodes.

“Now, I find myself wondering if the eruption is upon us.

“Who could ever conceive of atrocities like those we are seeing executed in the name of religion? Where once we might see coverage of a tragic conflict far away, we now face an evil that is not confined to some distant corner of the planet. With the always-on, near-instant spread of information in our digital age, your next door neighbor can be radicalized from the comfort of their living room.

“What we are facing is, first and foremost, a form of spiritual warfare. In a time where violence is rampant and the innocent are threatened, it is true that we must be ready to physically engage the malefactors. But if we deny the spiritual nature of this surge of evil we are facing, we will have no hope of victory.

“When confronted with atrocity, the immediate reaction of most people is, “What can we do to stop it?” Yes! That is the exact question we need to be asking. Summoning us to courage, St. Augustine challenges us to do battle: “Hope has two beautiful daughters: their names are anger and courage. Anger that things are the way they are. Courage to make them the way they ought to be.”

“But to begin to answer the question of what we can do, we must first properly assess where we are. What are our capabilities? How is our strength? What is the state of our conditioning? Without this kind of brutal honesty, we are likely to flounder rather than fight.

“Jesus warned, “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth” (Luke 21:34-35).

“And yet isn’t that exactly what has become of us? Consider this sobering analysis of our present condition from columnist Jeffrey Kuhner at the Washington Times:

“For the past 50 years, every major institution has been captured by the radical secular left. The media, Hollywood, TV, universities, public schools, theater, the arts, literature — they relentlessly promote the false gods of sexual hedonism and radical individualism. Conservatives have ceded the culture to the enemy. Tens of millions of unborn babies have been slaughtered; illegitimacy rates have soared; divorce has skyrocketed; pornography is rampant; drug use has exploded; sexually transmitted diseases such as AIDS have killed millions; birth control is a way of life; sex outside of wedlock has become the norm; countless children have been permanently damaged — their innocence lost forever — because of the proliferation of broken homes; and sodomy and homosexuality are celebrated openly. America has become the new Babylon.

“This cultural assessment is bleak. And I believe that underlying it all is a deeper evil, a more ancient and intractable error which gives rise to all the rest. Many have pointed to “Modernism” as the heresy of our times. Modernism, while it takes many forms, is basically a break or rejection of our past in favor of all things new. And, while it seems evident that our Church is fully infected with the heresy of Modernism, I believe that it, too, is a symptom of this more fundamental threat.

“What am I referring to? Something that impacts the very nature of human existence and the opportunity for our salvation. Lacking an official name, I call this monster, “Stealth Arianism.” Students of history know that the Arian heresy – the worst crisis in the Church before our present age – was rooted in the belief that Jesus Christ was merely a created being, not equal to God the Father.  Stealth Arianism follows the same fatal error, but with a twist: while the Arians of the fourth century openly denied Christ’s divinity, today‘s Arians will profess Jesus as God, and yet through their actions deny it. In other words, they don’t even know they are heretics. Many even believe that they are doing God’s work in their attempts to elevate Christ’s humanity at the cost of His divinity.

“You see, once we diminish the identity of Christ as the Son of God, we are left to view Him as simply a historical figure that was a nice guy, a respectable teacher and a good example for how we are to live. Religion is then reduced to a nice organization that does nice things for people as we seek a kind of psychotherapy for self-actualization. And this is not only not what He came to give us, but it’s something He made sure to leave no room for.

In his Christological examination, [easyazon_link asin=”0060652926″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”onep073-20″]Mere Christianity[/easyazon_link], C.S. Lewis makes the case plain:

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.

“Over the past 50 years, the Stealth Arians have done everything within their power to remove from our lived experience of Catholicism anything that would point to the divinity of Christ, and the supernatural quality of our faith. Everything has been stripped from our churches – sacred art, sacred architecture, sacred music, and the sacred elements of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass – and we are left in the barren desert of the banal. It is no wonder many Catholics think nothing of approaching the Most Holy Eucharist dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, and grabbing the host like they’re reaching into a bag of chips. As Flannery O’Connor said, “If it’s a symbol, to hell with it.” It’s more surprising that these individuals even bother to attend Mass at all.

“Moreover, the Stealth Arians have deliberately chosen to keep their teachings muddled, ambiguous and elusive in an effort to increase “pastoral sensitivity” as the highest of all values, which keeps people feeling good about themselves just the way they are – though never challenged to strive for sainthood! Of course, when people like the way their church makes them feel about themselves, that keeps the money flowing into the collection basket. But whether confused and uncertain, or simply spiritually blind for lack of true pastoral care, the faithful who have been abandoned by their spiritual leaders are prone to be conformed to the world and its prince, a murderer and liar from the beginning.

“St. John Chrysostom exhorts, “Let us be filled with confidence, and let us discard everything so as to be able to meet this onslaught. Christ has equipped us with weapons more splendid than gold, more resistant than steel, weapons more fiery than any flame and lighter than the slightest breeze … These are weapons of a totally new kind, for they have been forged for a previously unheard-of type of combat. I, who am a mere man, find myself called upon to deal blows to demons; I, who am clothed in flesh, find myself at war with incorporeal powers.”

“That sounds noble for St. John, but about for us? Are we really prepared to such a fight? Just when we need mighty spiritual warriors for these dangerous times, Satan has spent the past 50 years diminishing the Church’s legions to little more than a bunch of Girl Scouts. Now that we are left in our weakened state, Satan seems to be calling out to deal the last blow, “Release the Kraken!”

“Indeed, what can we do?

“St. Paul gives us the answer in his epistle to the Ephesians (6:10-18):

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness.  As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

“Pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert and always persevere in supplication for all the saints.

Originally published on September 18, 2014.

Father Richard Heilman

Fr. Richard M. Heilman is a priest of the Diocese of Madison, Wisconsin, and the Wisconsin State Chaplain for the Knights of Columbus. He is a regular guest host on Relevant Radio’s The Inner Life, and is the founder of the Knights of Divine Mercy, which is an apostolate for Catholic men’s faith formation..

He is also he founder of the Ladies of Divine Mercy, which is an apostolate for Catholic women’s faith formation. He is the author of the Church Militant Field Manual and the Roman Catholic Man website, which are both dedicated to helping Catholics understand and train for their role in the mission of combating evil and rescuing the souls of our loved ones who have lost the precious gift of faith.

[muchymozzarella]

From @vixiak, an idea I NEEDED IN MY LIFE 

Dorian as Archon and Bull as spy, who was caught when trying to break into the palace to steal war plans

-

“I don’t suppose the Qunari are aware of ways to warn me of break-ins in my own home, but given that you’re all fully aware that we of Tevinter use magic for every little thing, I’m surprised you weren’t prepared for the eventuality.”

Hissrad smirked even as he clenched against the paralysis spell, feeling its hold loosening on him already, though he willed himself not to move and give the game away. 

“Our Tamassrans always did encourage us to learn something new every day. At least, mine did,” Hissrad said flippantly as the man made his unconcerned way from behind Hissrad (his Antaam instincts screaming at him to face the threat of a powerful Bas-Saarebas head on, tamped down by his more nuanced thought as Ben-Hassrath) to speak to him face to face, and Hissrad couldn’t hide the surprise at seeing the Archon himself - dressed down, alone, and so small that Hissrad would’ve mistaken him for any other Magister, had it not been for his singular, elegantly curled moustache.

Had Hissrad not known that the Archon was, objectively, one of the most beautiful Vints he’d ever seen in his time in the city, and though the secret places inside him purred like a cat in sunlight at the thought, the Hissrad he was marked it as another example of how Tevinter chose their leaders - bred to perfection for the purpose, almost Qunari in that way, if not for the corrupting influence of their magic and depravity. 

“My, but you are an ugly, scowling fellow,” Archon Dorian tsked, and Hissrad, who had his expression schooled to the usual stoniness, raised a brow and threw him a smirk, which seemed to startle the man. 

“I’d wager your standards for what’s beautiful are higher than anyone’s considering they’ve got a lot to live up to in front of someone so gorgeous,” said Hissrad, and he didn’t miss the flush that seemed to inspire in the man’s cheeks, even in the low light of evening. 

“A flattering Qunari. How quaint,” the Archon said breathlessly. “And here I thought you were all only capable of grunting or yelling for death or the Qun or whatnot.”

“I don’t know if it’s stupidity or humility that you Vints think you’ve been fighting animals this whole time and losing,” said Hissrad. 

“Oh, half the Magisterium certainly thinks so, and you’d be surprised how much of a chore it is to get them to understand the intelligence of our enemy,” said Archon Dorian, laughing lightly. “But I don’t know that the ones who don’t underestimate you all are much better,” he went on, humour draining from his voice. “Given what lengths they’re willing to go to to quell the tide of Qunari rule.”

Hissrad thought of the time he spent on Seheron, how relieved he was to be pulled before he could become the monsters his fellows had, and shuddered. 

He then realised that the paralysis spell had dropped completely, and the Archon turned his back to him, walking on. 

“Well, come on then,” the man said, and Hissrad balked. “I know you’re not here to kill me, otherwise you’d have been on your way to my quarters rather than down this hallway - unless your intelligence really is that flawed and you had no idea where your target even was. I’d guess you had a different goal in mind. What was it? Architectural plans of the palace? Magical weapons for your Saarebas to use? The dragonling we keep in the garden?”

Hissrad perked up at the mention of a baby dragon. “Wait, you have an Ataashi in here?”

The Archon sighed heavily. “Of course you love them. The damage to the palace isn’t worth the trouble, but it keeps spirits high and makes my enemies more inclined to believe in my power if I can keep one in line.”

Hissrad weighed his options in his head, and decided to change tact. 

“I was looking for plans for your next attack on Seheron, actually,” he said lightly, as though it meant nothing to give the information away. 

Dorian’s shoulders immediately dropped, and his expression turned not angry, like Hissrad expected, but... sad. Troubled.

“There are none,” said Dorian. “At least,” he added, before Hissrad could speak, “not here. I have no intention of sending another wave of soporati and laetans and glory-seeking alti to be slaughtered on that Maker-forsaken island.”

“Bullshit,” Hissrad said, startling them both. 

“I have approved nothing,” Dorian continued, sounding infinitely more tired than his thirty years, “but from what I understand, certain elements of the Magisterium have been going behind my back to approve and fund the endeavour. I know that many have decided that I am unfit to be Archon because I am neither warmonger nor full of delusions of grandeur about a war we have never won and never will, against a people we have only ever held back and never stopped, and so you understand the use of the magical wards I had placed - to stop the dozens of assassins that come to kill me every week. But to be fair, that’s only a few more than usual.”

“Your own people would try to tear you down even when you make a tough and reasonable decision for their safety?” Hissrad said with disgust.

Dorian smiled at him, oddly warm, as they ended up in a library with a lounge, with couches that looked decadently soft. He lay across one, allowing Hissrad the full view of the long lines of his body, before the spy sat by his feet on one side, still space to spare on the enormous chaise. 

“I’m surprised you believe me, considering I’m supposed to represent a people you believe to be morally corrupt and irredeemable,” Dorian said softly, pouring two glasses of wine from the crystalline side table filigreed with gold. 

“You seem like a good guy,” Hissrad said, shrugging as he took the offered glass and sniffing it before taking a sip. He had taken the antidotes to most known poisons and tonics for most spells before he entered the palace, so if this killed him, it deserved the victory. “And I’m a people person.”

Dorian looked pensive. “I’ve.... never met a Qunari like you,” he said, weighing his words carefully. “May I ask your name?”

“Hissrad,” was the answer. “My name and my title. It means-”

“Keeper of illusions,” Dorian said, chuckling. “If you’re so good at lying that I’ve decided to share a drink with you before you kill me, I’d just be happy it took some of your best to finally take me down. But there must be dozens of Hissrad, if not hundreds.”

Hissrad shrugged. “Sure. Why?”

“I suppose I don’t want to think of you as someone who simply shares your title. I think... I think of a Bull, perhaps. Though your horns are more like a high dragon’s.”

Hissrad grinned widely, giving the Archon a wink. “Dragon sounds great, actually.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Bull it is, then.” He sat up, swirling the wine in his glass and looking deep in thought. “If I told you which Magisters I’ve heard funded the next planned assault right under me from an ally, would you trust the information?”

“I’d have people look into its validity, first,” said Hissrad, the Bull to the Archon.

“Fair. And what would you do if you found out they had such information that you came here for in the first place?” asked Dorian. 

“The Ben-Hassrath collect as much information as they can before making a decision,” said Hissrad, “but depending on how completely depraved they are compared to how useful they are - you might just be one less an enemy.”

“But what if this is just a ruse I’ve created for you to take out my political rivals?” Dorian said lightly. 

“The motivation doesn’t really matter when the outcome is ideal,” said Hissrad. “But if you make trouble, we could always just come up here and kill you, given you apparently live without guards or additional non-magical security.”

“The magical security is enough,” said Dorian flippantly, and Hissrad moved so quickly that he barely had time to react - the wine glass had rolled onto the carpet, staining it red, and Hissrad held the Archon by the throat while the hand that held the wineglass now held fire, ready to be thrown. 

“You can’t always rely on magic alone,” said Hissrad softly, thumb caressing the side of Dorian’s neck and making him shiver, the red of his face not just from the hold on his throat. “Especially against a people who have trained to fight it specifically.”

He let go, leaving no mark on the man’s neck, and handed him his wine, which Dorian took with a huff while looking judgmentally down at the stain on the no doubt expensive carpet. He downed the rest of the wine in one go, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll give you the list,” he said, breathless, going over to the nearby table. 

Hissrad followed, standing behind him as he began scribbling names and other important information that he knew from his own contacts. Before he handed it over, however, the Archon looked him up and down, seemed to mull something over for a moment, before saying “Do you fuck?”

Hissrad wasn’t sure where that strange turn came from, but he said “I’m no Tamassran, but I do alright.”

“Oh, maker, never mind, I don’t know why I asked - but I suppose...”

Before Hissrad could say anything else, he felt soft lips against his, a hand on his neck urging him low, and he opened up to it, and he allowed himself to be led through a contact that made electricity spark throughout his entire body and a fire burn in his gut that felt like someone had cast so many spells inside him. 

“Apologies,” said Dorian softly when he pulled away. “When I was younger, I was a terrible romantic. And having a strapping, clever spy come into my home and not killing me seemed like the kind of romantic my younger self would have berated me for not taking advantage of. Not that romance could possibly be a Qunari concept.”

“Nope,” said Hissrad, licking his lips, “but if you want to teach me a little more, it’s good to learn something new.”

He gave a wink, and Dorian threw his head back in real laughter. 

He was beautiful, and Hissrad looked forward to the next time he could see the soft look on Dorian’s face when they were both safe from who they were in the daylight.

“Here,” Dorian said softly, handing him a ring - one of the many from his fingers that Hissrad briefly wondered why he didn’t take them off to sleep, until he saw it pulse briefly with minor magic. “You can move into the palace without traps setting off this way. I’ll still know, but... at least you won’t be charred to a crisp by the time I come over to greet you.”

“Careful, Dorian,” said Hissrad softly. “I might start thinking you like me.”

Dorian looked sad, and Hissrad - his Bull - understood, and they kissed once more before he fled, to give the information he had gleaned to his superiors, but against everything he had ever been taught, hiding the ring he had been given for his own. 

[miragerules]

Here is a really well written article about both Daenerys good and bad qualities.  The authors of the article make a lot of great points about Daenerys as well as Jon.

Warning: Spoilers ahead for "Game of Thrones."

Daenerys Targaryen is, in many ways, one of the most appealing characters in HBO's "Game of Thrones." She's powerful and determined, and she inspires people to follow her again and again.

Now she's close to forming an alliance with Jon Snow, the other main hero of our tale. Together, they'll be a dragon-riding, direwolf-wielding duo who will slaughter the White Walkers and save Westeros. They could both perhaps be "The Prince That Was Promised," Azor Ahai reborn.

But would a writer like George R.R. Martin really let his series end so simply?

Some fans don't think so and point to a few troubling characteristics of Daenerys both on the show and in the books that could lead to her eventual turn toward a darker path.

Let's explore just why some people think Daenerys could become a villain.

Daenerys is a vengeance-seeker.

Throughout the series, Daenerys is convinced of her own moral compass. If she ever witnesses something she views as wrong — such as rape or slavery — she immediately attempts to put a stop to it and punish the wrongdoer.

This a noble trait, but seeing the world in black and white and believing she is the sole bringer of justice is one of Daenerys' downfalls.

We saw this early in the series when she saved a healer and maegi named Mirri Maz Duur, one of the Lhazareen women raped by the Dothraki, who had conquered their village. To Daenerys, saving Duur was an honorable thing to do, and she enlisted Duur to help heal Khal Drogo after he was injured.

Instead, Duur made Drogo's condition worse and killed Daenerys' son, Rhaego, when he was still in the womb using blood magic.

Daenerys doesn't understand why the woman turned on her when Daenerys had saved her. But Duur viewed it quite differently:

"Saved me? Three of those riders had already raped me before you saved me, girl. I saw my god's house burn, there where I had healed men and women beyond counting. In the streets I saw piles of heads: the head of the baker who makes my bread, the head a young boy that I had cured of fever just three moons past. So tell me again: Exactly what it was that you saved?"

Duur herself was seeking vengeance for the death of her people. In retaliation, Daenerys murdered Duur in Khal Drogo's funeral pyre and emerged with her three dragons.

Was the scene epic? Of course. But this wouldn't be the last time Daenerys murdered or harmed people who disagreed with her perception of what is right and wrong.

Another moment of Daenerys' vengeance gone awry is when the Great Masters crucify 163 slave children as mile markers on her way to Meereen as a way to intimidate her. When she sacks the city, Daenerys crucifies 163 Great Masters as a punishment.

In "A Storm of Swords," however, Daenerys begins to regret her actions, despite her initial sense of righteousness:

"She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon. But later, when she passed the men dying on the posts, when she heard their moans and smelled their bowels and blood …

"It was just. It was. I did it for the children."

Daenerys, though she suppresses the thought, realizes some of the masters may not have been guilty of the death of these children. She tries to convince herself that she was right to take their lives.

And in season six, episode five, show watchers saw Daenerys murder the powerful khals in their straw hut. These weren't nice men — they spent a significant chunk of time insulting Daenerys and talking about how they intended to rape and kill her — but watching her burn them alive was still an unnerving moment for some viewers, especially because it looked like she took pleasure in watching them die.

Daenerys' rationalizations for all these events should give her fans pause. Murdering evil people may seem like the right thing to do, but what would happen if Daenerys' moral compass were ever skewed?

It wouldn't be the first time she burned people who disagreed with her, after all.

Dragons as nuclear weapons.

In "A Dance With Dragons," Daenerys compares her dragons to monsters:

"Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I."

This wild and changeable nature of dragons is directly tied to Daenerys. When she equates herself to a dragon, she means it: She can be just as destructive and changeable as her dragon children.

What's more, Martin has talked about ties between the dragons and nuclear weapons. Both are powerful to have but can easily lead to utter destruction.

"Dragons are the nuclear deterrent, and only Dany has them, which in some ways makes her the most powerful person in the world," Martin told Vulture in a 2014 interview. "But is that sufficient? These are the kind of issues I'm trying to explore. The United States right now has the ability to destroy the world with our nuclear arsenal, but that doesn't mean we can achieve specific geopolitical goals. Power is more subtle than that. You can have the power to destroy, but it doesn't give you the power to reform, or improve, or build."

We saw the full force of this when Daenerys attacked the Lannister army with Drogon. Director Matt Shakman chose to show the battle from Jaime and Bronn's perspective to bring the horrors of dragonfire into sharp relief.

"I wanted to tell the story of what it was like ... when war changes forever and a truly horrific weapon like napalm or an atom bomb is suddenly unleashed and what that does to the men on the ground," Shakman told Insider.

Daenerys is sitting with her finger on a red button that could take out all of Westeros. She may not want to destroy the kingdom, especially before she ever has the chance to rule there. But by virtue of wanting to conquer Westeros, she could be bringing more death and destruction into a country still ravaged by war.

There's a chance Daenerys could be viewed as a villain instead of the returning hero of House Targaryen.

Daenerys and the Mad King.

While Daenerys has remained fairly sane so far, the Targaryen dynasty has a history of mental illness, mainly because of intermarriage. Daenerys' father, King Aerys II, was called the Mad King because he became paranoid and started killing people and hiding wildfire around King's Landing.

Daenerys starts to worry about this possible "taint" in her blood, as do many other characters throughout the series. But it's not so much that Daenerys could go crazy — though that's certainly a possibility — as that she could follow in her father's footsteps by punishing those who disagree with her or whom she views as her enemies.

Tyrion warned her against this tactic at the end of season six, and the two reached a compromise where Daenerys instead burned just one of the slaver's ships and had Grey Worm execute two of the three slave masters.

Once she arrived in Westeros, Tyrion once again counseled Daenerys against immediately using the dragons to burn King's Landing or other cities, telling her she didn't want to be the "queen of the ashes."

But their alternate plans failed because of Tyrion's miscalculations of what Jaime and Cersei would do, and Daenerys got tired of sitting around and doing nothing. She rode Drogon into battle against the Lannister army and laid waste to their soldiers and loot. She didn't choose a select few leaders to punish — she went for everything in sight.

Granted, it was better than her flying to the Red Keep and attacking civilians, but it was still hard to 100% root for her in this moment.

Daenerys also had a tense conversation with Varys earlier in the seventh season. She made him promise to be straightforward with her about her potential failings as a leader, but she then vowed to burn him alive if he ever betrayed her.

If Daenerys goes too far in the "fire and blood" direction, she could end up repeating her father's mistakes — something that would end up costing her the throne, just like it ended up costing King Aerys both his kingdom and his life.

Jon Snow is the true hero.

A penchant for vengeance, a crazy father, and dragons do not together make Daenerys a villain. But let's compare Daenerys with another heroic character in the "Song of Ice and Fire" series: Jon Snow.

In the books and show, Jon is similar to Ned Stark. He's honorable, justice-minded, and takes no pleasure in killing. When he's forced to take a life, Jon makes sure he's the one to swing the sword, and he views it as a burden, not a pleasure.

For example, when he punished the brothers of the Night's Watch who stabbed him in season six, Jon took no joy in it. He listened to every man's last words before cutting the rope and watching them die. He did not look pleased by their deaths — unlike Daenerys, who smiled right before she watched the khals burn.

Jon also never asks for the responsibility heaped on his shoulders time and time again. Jon is forced to become the lord commander after Samwell Tarly submitted his name. He doesn't want to be the one to take care of the Wildlings, but he feels morally obligated to help them and therefore becomes their savior. He doesn't want to be the one to punish his brothers, even though they betrayed and murdered him, and yet he knows the responsibility falls to him.

And now, he's king in the north after rallying the Northern houses around him. But he didn't even want to do that — not until Sansa Stark convinced him it was the right thing to do.

Jon follows the traditional "reluctant hero" journey in many ways. He questions himself, he sometimes falls, and he picks himself back up.

It's not unlike what Dumbledore tells Harry in the "Harry Potter" film series: "It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well."

Jon never asks to be a leader; he's just the best man for the job. It's something Daenerys — with her Targaryen dynasty and ambitions — would never understand. When Jon and Daenerys meet for the first time, Daenerys tells him that all people enjoy what they're good at.

"I don't," Jon said.

He was likely referring to leading and killing, the two things he's been forced into since leaving Winterfell as a young man. Jon never sought out a royal title, but he's good at owning it. That factor might make him the one person best suited for the job.

What does this mean for the series?

There's also substantial evidence throughout the series that Daenerys will be a good ruler. She's intelligent, she tries to listen to her advisers, and she genuinely wants the people she rules to be happy. People like Missandei and Grey Worm follow Daenerys because they believe in her ability to change lives for the better.

And even with her possible flaws, Daenerys would ultimately be a much better ruler than Cersei or Joffrey Lannister, or even King Robert.

Still, there could be a complicated friction as Daenerys tries to claim the Iron Throne. Instead of being the hero she assumes she will be, Daenerys is likely to face opposition and bring destruction and death to the kingdom.

On the other hand, she possesses weapons that, while volatile, could be the key to defeating the White Walkers (at least on the show). We know that Valyrian steel and dragonglass — two things believed to be made with dragon fire — can kill the White Walkers, so it stands to reason that actua fire from actual dragons would do the trick, too.

So while she may not be greeted in Westeros as a hero, she and her dragons could fast become their only hope. Plus, a Jon and Daenerys romance might be brewing — even though their shared bloodline grosses some fans out. Perhaps his "ice" will temper her "fire," if you catch our drift.

In the end, only Martin knows what will happen, but Daenerys fans should buckle up. It could be a bumpy ride on her way to the Iron Throne.

[dememarquette]

GSI AU

[Prelude] - Part One - Part Two

IN THE JANKY HALLS OF THE GSI OFFICES…

No sun, no air, hardly the sound of another human being unless you count the incessant scrabbling of pen against paper (though it sounds much more like a convict taking a spoon to the concrete wall), the tepid wasteland of GSI offices lay nestled beneath the extravagant offices of tenured professors. You know you’ve made it when you have a window in your office. For now, the majority of us sit ass to elbows and wait for a student to pass by so we can, at last, feel useful.

The next time you think the life of a graduate student is glamorous, think again. I’m here to tell you that we hate ourselves just as much as you hate us for calling you out on your shitty paper.

Yes, in the dark underbelly of each building hides a squadron of graduate students furiously pedaling away to keep the electricity going. Don’t forget it, and make sure you clear out by 6 pm because that’s when we all emerge to return home, bringing doom and gloom up to the surface alongside us.

I glance at the clock. 5:59 pm. Time to go. Everything is packed into a folder, a binder, a pencil case with a compartment for each pen and pencil, and then I’m good to go, hitting the light switch on my way out to startle the remainder of the graduate team. They blink at me owlishly atop piles of empty coffee cups like dragons hoarding gold.

That, at least, gets me ten feet out the door before I have to backpedal. When you’re on the way home, it takes the supernatural to hold you back. That or the foul stench of defamation.

Amongst the chaos of the bulletin board, the brightly-colored posters and the stray cry for help (DISSERTATION EDITOR NEEDED IMMEDIATELY!! And IS MONOGAMY A LIE??), all that’s left of my flyer is a corner. In its place stands a Spotify promotion disguised as an educational flyer, in turn disguising Gwen Stefani as music. It reads:

LINGUSTICS. THIS SH!T IS BANANAS. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

I glare at it for a minute before tearing it down and putting my flyer back up.

The next day, Gwen Stefani glares right back at me.

***

“Alright, so remember we have a quiz on Thursday, and that English uses Greek as an embellishment, but in Greek those words are simple as hell and make you sound like an idiot. Martyr. Witness. Phobia.” I shrug. “Fear.”

I shove my folder into my bag and zip it shut, nearly getting my finger caught in the zipper. Fuck. Play it off. “Okay, now get out of here and take Greek 1.”

The students miserably shuffle out the door. The girl in the back was pounding two thermoses of something all throughout lecture, either coffee or liquor—maybe both. I don’t blame her. It’s about that time where the line in my office goes right out the door and to the bathroom around the corner. Please, the desperate college student begs, I will literally die if I don’t get a B in this class.

Well, fuck. Just die then because it isn’t going to happen.

I lean against the podium and watch the back row clear out. I’m not in a particularly forgiving mood this semester. Too many apathetic faces staring at me, but at least I’ve come to a tacit agreement with my students. We’re all here against our will. They’re here because, as first-year undergrads, they have shit registration times and got stuck with a 7 am Greek Religion class, and I’m here because I tragically split hot coffee on my advising professor’s pantsuit. Twice.

When the last person leaves the classroom, I immediately deflate onto the table and groan. It’s an impressive groan that lasts for at least a minute, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

“Wow. What an impressive groan.”

I don’t have enough self-respect to lift up my head. “Yup,” I say. “I’ve been practicing.”

“It’s paying off. Hey, do you mind moving a bit to your left? I gotta plug my laptop in.”

I move the chair to the left. The dude has adventurous taste in footwear. When’s the last time I saw a pair of monk straps? The answer is there was never a time. I have never seen a pair of monk straps in person, other than on myself. So you got me, dude. I’m down on my self-respect but I would never turn down a chance to look at the owner of a magnificent pair of shoes.

I look up. As expected, his shoes are the best part of him.

“Okay,” I say, abruptly standing up. “Farewell.”

“See you.”

Why, Erebus? You could have stayed, the two of you could have talked shop! You never find another GSI wearing anything outside the category of high school boy footwear. Yeah, I could’ve killed myself too, doesn’t mean I’m going to do it. I laid there for five minutes, and now my workload has interested by a corresponding five minutes. Ugh.

I step out of the classroom and maneuver around the crowd of students lining up to enter the room, forcing me to go a different route. I trot down the hall—with dignity, might I add, which is a lot harder than it sounds. Trotting is generally undignified, but I am all dignity.

That is, until I come across an entire wall of Gwen Stefani posters pinned all over the Center of Religious Studies corkboard. The paper taped on top of the board reads: DO NOT POST WITHOUT PERMISSION. I’m pretty fucking sure Spotify didn’t get permission from the department.

I have a fuckton of work sitting on my desk and last month’s test scores are backlogged in the system, but I also have a stapler in my bag and a whole stack of event flyers hot off the press. Why the hell not?

It takes me fifteen minutes to rip down the entire wall of Gwen and replace the posters with my own. I leave one defiled Spotify poster, just as you leave one man alive in an army you slaughter. You know. As a warning.

***

“610, Muhammed receives a message from the angel Gabriel. He is told the Arabs must follow the Abrahamic God, and that he is the chosen prophet, Jesus Christ’s legitimate successor. The Eastern Christian Church already split from the Greek Orthodox Church at this point in time—why? The Romans were—man, the Romans were off their game. Christianity no longer emphasized discipline and moral fiber, but Muslims did. That’s why the Romans were so offended by Islam. Because it was, essentially, a purer form of Christianity.”

There’s a lecture this Friday on the beginning of Islam and its relation to Greek Orthodox Christianity. If you’re interested, look at the poster board outside the classroom.”

Apparently, I spoke too soon. When I went into the classroom, my flyer was up. When I went out, it was replaced by Gwen Stefani. Fuck.

“I hate you,” I say to Gwen, pressing my nose right up into the flyer.

Someone clears their throat behind me. “You a big fan of Gwen Stefani?”

“You wouldn’t ask a Jew if they were into Hitler. Why would you ask an East Asian if they’re into Gwen Stefani?”

“Woah.”

“Yup. Totally wish I could take that back. But hey I haven’t made eye contact with you yet so this conversation never happened. Goodbye.” I scuttle away, keeping my eyes on the floor. Oh. It’s monk strap guy. Good to see you again.

Back in my office, there’s a post-it note on my desk summoning me to the department head’s office that afternoon. I’ve done a lot of questionable things that would warrant a summoning—I’m going to need more fingers to count the possible things this meeting could be about. Uhm. As a historian of Islamic history, I’ve been reported as a ISIS-sympathizer. One time a white supremacist reported me for being racist, which was fun.

I wait on the bench outside her office, flanked by Gwen Stefani posters. I drop my head in my hands and groan.

“Oh hey, Hitler dude. What’s up?” Someone sits down beside me when the entire bench is available.

“Gwen Stefani.”

“What?”

“No, seriously. Look up.”

Monk strap guy looks up and squints at the poster before snorting. “Shit. Okay, that one was definitely not me.”

“Wait—what?” No. Don’t do this to me. Don’t let my only acquaintance who has ascended far above Adidas and Nikes be—be a Gwen Stefani sympathizer. “Are you the one posting all these fucking Gwen Stefanis everywhere?”

“Are you the one replacing my posters with, what was it, Religious Studies?”

“Replacing—I’m not the one replacing them. You replaced mine first, and it’s Center! CENTER for Religious Studies, and I’m restoring the poster boards to their original glory, their—their academic glory! There is no academic glory or integrity in Gwen Stefani.”

“Oh. I thought we had a friendly rivalry going on.”

“We aren’t friends,” I hiss. “We are enemies.”

“That’s cool too.” He extends his hand and I stare at it suspiciously. “I’m Demetri.”

“I’m Erebus, and I don’t shake hands. Germs.” Right as I do jazz-hands, the department head’s office door opens and I get up to go. I turn back, narrowing my eyes at Demetri. “This is a ceasefire. Stay off my turf and we’re all good.”

Demetri shrugs. “Sure.”

***

The following day, David Bowie’s face on my office door squints back at me.

[irafatum-a]

Finished Four’s DLC: Intoner of Justice:

Decadus is Four’s biggest fan and you cannot tell me anything else. It doesn’t matter what she says or does, he absolutely adores her and even when she does hideous things or reasons away her bullshit he just nods and goes: YES FOUR ILU NGGGHHH

Four apparently ‘forgets’ things a lot, to the point she ignores Decadus’ existence entirely until she needs him for something ( like being a meat shield ). 

Apparently she kills anyone who opposes One ( or the Intoners / herself ) without mercy, as the soldiers often scream about how she is killing soldiers who flee or attempt to surrender ( they claim it is useless as they will be killed; sounds almost like they’re talking about Zero :3 ).

Dragons see into the hearts of beings and what Gabriella finds in Four is just a heart full of holes. She can see through Four’s manipulative tendencies and often calls her out on it ( and is ridiculed or ignored ).

She’s very contradictory; during the land of sands she comments on how she doesn’t need jewels or baubles -- she has no interest in them -- and not long into acquiring more, Decadus’ off comment makes her reconsider and she begins to explain away why she may start wearing them or take a few. 

Man does she talk mad shit on the sisters, the only ones she doesn’t is Zero and One, and even with One she claims that ‘she is wrong’ when Gabriella points out One does not want the slaughter of fleeing foe’s. 

During combat she yells a lot, and when hit or struck down she sounds like a child screaming out, and when in the midst of a flurrying attack she says in an aggressive voice; “TAKE THIS!!”

Her idle animation is exactly like Zero’s; very submissive and hides her face a bit. 

Decadus really gets the fuck off being ignored; Four pretty much ignores him a lot of the DLC unless she wants to discuss things with him. And even then he could talk to her blatantly in the face and she will continue her own conversation until she is done. 

She often uses excuses to go killing enemy soldiers and fleeing pirate elves. Justice is her mantra and she exclaims it is one without mercy. 

Four puts great emphasis on having honor and having victory through sheer brute force and strength; she may feel she doesn’t get justice anywhere else so why not kill others who have no chance? 

Decadus and Four seemingly do discuss battle strategy, but ultimately its Four’s decision what they do. And he happily goes with it; right or wrong. 

During the DLC she likes to go on rants about her morality and how they are the ones in the right; and then usually during that time period something happens that contradicts what she’s said, and she outright ignores or panics because ‘she doesn’t want to seem disingenuous’. 

She totally wants Decadus to carry her.

She finds loopholes to situations to further her own goals; well, they are the enemy so its okay to kill them. Well, they are elves and not humans so its okay to kill them. Well, they are pirates and they DID attack them but its okay to kill them because they shouldn’t exist. 

Four is completely detached to the cries of suffering, especially suffering she inflicts. During the slaughter of the elves she took great joy in exacting her brand of justice, and scolded Gabriella for not having tough enough skin to be in a battle. 

During the forest part of the dlc she almost implies that she was not a better little sister to Three; that it is her ( and the other sisters fault ) for allowing Three to become as strange as she is. 

Four craves recognition for her good deeds and her efforts to please One; but they are often ignored. Her frustration leads her to more extreme methods of acquiring One’s love. 

She does not use weapons ( besides her gauntlet claw on her right hand ), and is able to decimate platoons of soldiers. It shows that weapons are merely an accessory to the Intoners, and they can simply rip a foe to shreds. 

Four’s charge attack is her deceptively holding her gloved hand to her chest sweetly and immediately gutting you with the right claw hand. It’s great. 

Moral of the story? Four will fuck your shit up and its okay because she’s a good person and you are clearly a piece of shit. I may add more later as I comb through stuff.