#and will not acknowledge the legitimacy of such a title.

[lurking-latinist]

.

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love (3)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader

word count | 3.7k words

summary | calm before the storm. the queen forces you to go to the targaryen-hightower supper where you finally sit face to face with aemond, (whilst getting interrogated by prince daemon as well.)

tags | reader is just here for the targ drama tbh, fluff, small angst/but reader comforts,

note | I just realised that both rebekah and reader fall for boys that they technically watched grow up (not really, but really tho, also would you consider this pedophilic, since rebekah and reader had mere platonic feelings, while marcel and aemond were already obsessed)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

It had been a moon's turn since your return, and Aemond had taken to shadowing you through the sunlit halls of the Keep, his presence felt like a specter lurking just out of reach. Instead of confronting you directly, he observed, his violet gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, the currents of Targaryen drama began to stir anew, this time not over the succession of the Iron Throne, but over the shores of Driftmark and the title of the Lord of Tides.

Lord Vaemond Velaryon was set to make his case, summoned to the court to argue vehemently against Lucerys Velaryon’s claim to the ancestral seat, while the King deliberated on who would wear the mantle of the next successor.

Your mind, however, was torn asunder by the weight of the situation. It was as clear as the midday sun that Rhaenyra's three sons bore the mark of bastardy, the truth hanging in the air like a bitter fog. Yet, despite their dark hair and brown eyes, they were still Princess Rhaenrya's sons, making them true Targaryens, and as long as the crown acknowledged their legitimacy, they had every right to embrace their heritage.

Yet, the specter of justice loomed heavily. They bore no true Valaryon blood in their veins, a fact that rendered their claim to Driftmark similarly disquieting. If they were to inherit such a coveted title, it would be naught but a dagger to the heart of the Velaryon legacy, erasing centuries of honor and heritage in one fell swoop.

But who were you to cast judgment on the matter? You were, after all, a bastard yourself in your own right. With no discernible features from either your father or your mother, the only tether to the Mikaelson name was the multitude of witnesses who could attest to your mother birthing you into this world.

Soon enough, the matter erupted into a grand spectacle, as the Queen had relayed with a glint of grim madness in her eye. Viserys, frail and near death, had heaved himself from his sickbed, a ghost of his former self, to proclaim the legitimacy of his grandsons. That proclamation, laden with tension and bitter truths, secured their claim to Driftmark—an act of desperation that would surely echo through the halls of history. It was not long after this madness that the Prince, Daemon Targaryen, wielded his fury like a sword, severing Vaemond Velaryon's head from his shoulders for daring to call Rhaenyra a whore.

To your great displeasure, Queen Alicent had insisted your presence at the supper of Targaryen and Hightower—a feast destined to spiral into a night of revelry or ruin, most likely the latter. You preferred the shadows, where the light of their self-destructive feud would not touch you, allowing you to observe from afar rather than be ensnared in their political webs. Yet, refusal was a luxury you could not afford.

As the time of the supper approached, you dedicated a substantial time deliberating over your choice of attire. The vibrant hues of black and green were decidedly unfit, signifying discord and allegiances you wished to avoid at all costs. Instead, you selected a gown of soft pink silk, its flowing fabric draping elegantly over your form, a symbol of innocence amidst the clamor of tensions. You wove your hair into intricate braids interspersed with delicate pearls that caught the flickering candlelight, culminating your preparation with a cherished pendant—a family heirloom adorned with the Mikaelson crest.

Stepping into the grand dining hall, you were met with the scrutinizing gazes of the Blacks. Whispers and curious glances darted in your direction as you approached the long table, poised and unwavering, choosing to disregard Aegon's lecherous leers that felt all too familiar. A frown tightened your lips when you spied that both seats beside Helaena were occupied. Resigned yet resolute, you claimed the next available chair—seated close to Aemond.

"My prince," you intoned softly, offering a nod of acknowledgment.

Aemond's violet eye bore into you, a swirl of unspoken thoughts birthing an electric tension between you. Time seemed to stretch as he regarded you, his expression inscrutable, before he replied, "My Lady," his voice low and controlled, yet laden with something you couldn't discern.

With practiced grace, you settled into your seat, the heavy air thick with unspoken politics. You leaned slightly forward, attempting to listen as King Viserys, broken and weary beneath the weight of his crown, delivered a grand speech. He spoke of unity and the bonds of family, though in truth, all you wished for was the freedom to roll your eyes, a habit you had long restrained. His words felt hollow, a poignant irony given his role in fracturing his family as much as he sought to mend it

From what Queen Alicent had confided in you, you were painfully aware of the King's heart-wrenching choice—his decisions that saw his first wife deprived of her future and life, all in favor of the male heir he hoped for. That tragic episode echoed through the halls of the Red Keep, leading to not just his wife but both her and their son's death. And now, as King Viserys eagerly sought the son he so desperately desired, he had all but disregarded Aegon, neglecting the boy from the moment of his first cry.

As the King’s voice echoed in the hall, you caught sight of Helaena, Aegon, and Aemond—each face twisted in quiet agony, a poignant testament to the empty love their father bestowed upon them. In that moment, you felt a surge of empathy and support for them — even Aegon. With a discreet but deliberate motion, you slipped your hand beneath the table, gently covering Aemond’s tightly clenched fist.

He tensed at your touch, but after a heartbeat of hesitation, Aemond relaxed and opened his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. A small squeeze passed between you—a silent token of gratitude that spoke volumes in contrast to the empty words spilling from the King's lips.

As the evening wore on, the air thick with unwelcome tension, your mind began to drift, thoughts becoming a haze as the speeches droned on around you. It was only when Aemond's hand slipped from yours, his presence withdrawing as he rose to his feet, that your gaze sharpened. You found him casting a fierce glare at Jacaerys, who was regaling the gathering with yet another toast.

However, it was Helaena's gentle voice that truly broke through the fog enveloping you. She stood, her lovely countenance illuminated by a warm, sugary smile as she raised her glass high. "I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena," she declared, her tone carrying a dreamy lightness, "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you... except when sometimes he's drunk."

Her words pierced your heart, the bittersweet truth laced within them shattering whatever sympathy you had harbored for Aegon. With a mixture of sorrow and indignation igniting within you, you cast a venomous glare towards Prince Daemon, who, aflame with mirth, laughed at Helaena’s toast. Yet you were not as discreet as you’d hoped; the piercing gaze of Prince Daemon met yours, a knowing smirk creeping upon his lips.

“I do believe I am yet to have the distinct pleasure of being introduced to our guest,” Prince Daemon declared, his voice tinged with the kind of arrogance that could curdle the blood of the unwary. The room fell silent; all attention was drawn to you, as if you were a curious creature caged among the dragons, and you suppressed the urge to sigh at the mischief brewing in his expression.

Queen Alicent cleared her throat—a notable attempt to extricate you from Daemon’s merciless gaze. “She is one of my esteemed ladies, Prince Daemon,” she interjected, her tone hinting at a subtle warning, though the sharpness of the prince’s wit remained unyielding.

“A lady, indeed?” Daemon’s voice was laced with mockery, his eyes flickering over you as if you were an intricate puzzle, “Yet here she sits, so comfortably, as if she belongs to the very blood of House Targaryen.” Daemon replied, the cunning glimmer in his eye only intensifying. He leaned forward, every inch the contemplative predator. “What is your name, my lady?”

The warmth of the hall contrasted sharply with the coolness of his gaze, yet you met it with unwavering resolve, the remnant courage of your lineage steeling your heart as you told him your name and lied about hailing from The Reach, your voice steady, resonating amidst the stillness.

"Mikaelson?" Daemon mused, his smirk as sharp as Valyrian steel. His silver hair framed a face both youthful and hardened by conflict, and his voice dripped with the playfulness of a cunning predator. "And yet you're no son."

A tight smile graced your lips, the playful banter igniting the spark of your short temper. "My father has enough sons, I assure you, Prince Daemon," you rebuffed, your tone dipped in irritation.

"How old are you? Six and ten?" he pressed, his gaze unwavering, while you caught sight of young Jacaerys approaching Helaena, asking her for a dance. If only irony were not woven into the very fabric of their fates—how you wished Queen Alicent had seen fit to unite them in a more harmonious bond than the betrothal she made with Helaena and Aegon.

But also at that moment, you recognized the precariousness of your own web of lies. Since your arrival at King's Landing, you had deceived the queen into believing you were six and ten, which in truth you were. Oh, how the centuries rolled by, yet your vampiric nature kept your visage untouched, a fragrant bloom eternally in its prime. It was a game of wit and veiled truths, and you knew well how to play.

You met Daemon’s piercing gaze anew, your expression turning steely, tinged with an edge of irritation. “No, your highness,” you replied, your voice as cool as ice. “I am three-and-twenty.”

Prince Daemon raised a silver eyebrow in surprise. “My, my, even older than Prince Aegon,” he drawled, the words rolled off his tongue like honey laced with venom, aimed to sting, "And unmarried, I presume?"

Though you longed to retort with the truth, that you were even older than him, a creature of darkness preserved by the very essence of your nature, you instead offered a demure smile, saying, “Yes. But I prefer it that way. Much more preferable than marrying whilst I was a girl." Your words, though soft-spoken, held a steel beneath their surface—a blade forged in the fires of countless unsaid anger at the world around you.

Daemon’s lips curled into an amused smirk, and he shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “And yet, that is the world we live in.” His tone was laced with the disillusionment of a man who had seen much—his own brand of charm wrapped in an air of indifference.

“Indeed, a world where old men prey upon young girls,” you countered, your voice steady and unwavering, “but I daresay you are no stranger to such tactics, your highness.” The look of amusement that had brightened Daemon’s features dimmed, his smirk wilting like a flower in winter, which you took great satisfaction in.

You jolted in your seat, when Aemond, seated beside you, suddenly slammed his fist onto the table. The cacophony of music and chatter in the hall fell silent as he rose, his goblet held aloft like a rallying cry. "Last Tribute!" he announced, a boldness in his voice that demanded attention.

You glanced around the room, and the unease reflected in the faces of his kin did not escape you. Aemond continued, "To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… hm… strong."

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you caught the veiled insult aimed at the Velaryon boys' bastardy. The shocked expressions of the Targaryens around you were a clear indicator that Aemond’s words had struck a nerve. Queen Alicent, her composure straining against the affront to her family, attempted to intervene. "Aemond," she cautioned, her voice taut with concern.

But he paid her no heed, raising his goblet higher, a wicked gleam in his eye as he spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Come… let us drain our cups to these three… Strong boys," he declared, the words echoing through the revelry like a distant thunderclap.

The hall fell silent, eyes turning to Jace Velaryon, whose face had flushed a deep crimson, betrayal etching lines into his young features. He advanced on Aemond with the fury of a dragon, fists clenched tight. "I dare you to say that again," he challenged, his words barely concealing the tempest of wrath within him.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment." Aemond retorted with a smirk that could cut glass. "Do you not think yourself Strong?" The taunt flew from his lips like a well-bred serpent, and before the words had fully settled in the air, Jace's fist met Aemond’s cheek with a resounding smack.

Yet, to Aemond, it seemed naught but a gentle breeze, his expression barely shifting as he staggered back only a pace. His pale violet eye sparkled with mischief, unfazed by Jace's sudden fury.

In a swift motion, you rose from your place at the table, the wooden chair scraping against the stone floor as you moved to intervene. Aemond, with a dismissive shove, pushed Jace down, the young prince hitting the hard ground with a thud.

Without thinking, you stepped towards Helaena, and gently took her by the arm. “Come, boys are such immature creatures, yes,” you said softly, guiding her away from the escalating chaos that threatened to engulf them both. Her wide eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she leaned into your touch, casting a sorrowful glance back at the scene as you ushered her away.

You watched as Aemond stormed out the dining hall, his anger crackling in the air like the storm clouds that often loomed over King's Landing. As chaos settled around you, you felt an impulse, a momentary lapse in resolve, and left Helaena's side to pursue him.

He strode fiercely through the halls of the Red Keep, the glint of his silver hair catching the flickering torchlight. You hurried to match his pace, concern fluttering in your chest. "Aemond," you called out softly, "are you alright?"

The scent of his wrath surrounded him, palpable as the incense in the court. He did not glance your way, his voice a frigid whisper laced with venom. "Absolutely splendid."

Your brow furrowed at the sharpness of his words, and with a hint of naïveté, you responded, "I sense a trace of sarcasm in your tone."

Aemond exhaled sharply, quickening his steps in a feeble attempt to distance himself from your probing presence, but your determination was steady. "Did my mother send you to chastise me?" he snapped, the words like arrows loosed from a drawn bow.

"No," you responded gently, your eyes softening with empathy. "I am here of my own accord, wishing only to know if you are truly well."

His stormy glare wavered for the briefest moment, as if the floodgates within him were on the verge of breaking, as if realising it was you he was talking to. But just as swiftly, he clamped down on it, his demeanor hardening once more. Suddenly, he halted and turned to face you, the tension palpable in the air between you.

You lifted your chin defiantly, unwilling to cower beneath the intensity of his stare. "Knowing," he began, his voice low and resonant. "And yet I find I do not know you at all."

Your brow furrowed, a hint of confusion playing at the corners of your lips. "I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean."

He raised a hand, holding out three fingers as if counting off a point. "Three things," he affirmed, his tone matter-of-fact. "I now know three things about you: your name, your home, and that you have brothers."

You paused, gazing at him with wide, innocent eyes, your voice a gentle whisper, "You seem troubled by this knowledge."

He exhaled heavily, pressing a knuckle to the jagged scar that marred his skin, perhaps seeking solace from its lingering pain. A part of you longed to ease his suffering. "It is only my frustration that weighs heavily upon me," he confessed, his tone laced with a mix of irritation and longing. "You hold the knowledge of my life in your hands, yet I know naught of your story."

You crossed your arms defiantly, donning a mask of indifference, "I do not understand the depth of your frustration."

Aemond's singular violet eye bore into your soul with an intensity that made your heart race. "I suspect you do. You are well aware of the affections I hold for you."

A sharp breath caught in your throat as you shook your head, dismissing the peculiar warmth blossoming within your chest. "Those were mere whims of a boy, your grace," you retorted, attempting to cloak your uncertainty in bravado.

His gaze remained unwavering, a storm of emotion swirling within that piercing eye. "Yet here I stand, no longer a boy, and the flames of my desire for you still burn fierce."

"You mustn't speak so," you urged, desperation threading through your voice like a fraying rope.

"Why ought I to remain silent?" Aemond shrugged, a hint of defiance lacing his words. "This is but the truth of my heart."

"Which is wholly improper," you retorted fiercely, the tension between you thickening in the wake of your words.

An awkward silence enveloped you both, heavy with unspoken thoughts, until Aemond cleared his throat, shifting the fragile atmosphere. "You held your own remarkably well against my uncle's incessant probing," he remarked, seeking lighter ground.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as a tendril of chill from the nearby window touched your skin, though the coolness hardly bothered you. "There is only one man who may speak to me in such a manner," you replied with a touch of defiance, "and that is my brother."

“Mhm,” Aemond murmured, his gaze locked onto yours, an intensity in his violet eye that seemed to pierce through the very air between you. “Pray, tell me more.”

You stifled a roll of your eyes, at once annoyed and amused by his insatiable curiosity. "I am the youngest of six," you said, your tone now lighthearted yet elusive, "and my favorite color is pink. Might that suffice for your unquenchable thirst for knowledge about me?"

His lips curved in a smirk, his gaze unwavering. "No," he replied, his voice low and firm. "It shall never be enough."

With a genuine exasperation, you rolled your eyes this time, a small smile betraying your annoyance. "Well, if you must know—"

But your words were abruptly stolen by Aemond’s boldness. His strong hands cupped your face, his touch igniting a warmth that seeped through the layers of silk between you. In an instant, his warm, soft lips met yours, and time seemed to freeze. Your heart raced, an unexpected firework of emotion exploding within you as you instinctively leaned into him, responding to the kiss despite the whirlwind of confusion in your mind.

Yet reality came crashing back as your senses settled, and you hastily broke away from him, breathless and bewildered. The air in the room felt charged, and you glared at him, regaining your composure and a semblance of control

The fool wore a dopey grin, that infuriatingly charming smile that only deepened your ire. You shot him a withering look. “I was speaking,” you pointedly reminded him.

His brows knitted in confusion, a flicker of surprise on his face. “What?”

You planted your hands defiantly on your hips, your indignation brewing like a storm. “I was speaking, and you interrupted me! Not only that, but you did not seek my permission to claim my lips.”

Aemond’s laughter rang like the chiming of bells, an amused glimmer in his eye as he observed your vexation. “Very well, my lady. May I kiss you again?”

Your irritation flared, your cheeks warming with a blend of anger and embarrassment. You took a deliberate step back, confusion simmering just beneath your skin. “No, of course not. You have already stolen a kiss from me, but I shall not so easily grant you another.” You held back the childish urge to stomp your foot in frustration. With a petulant huff, you turned on your heel to storm away, your voice carrying a wisp of indignation. “This is most improper and indecent! Good night, your Highness.”

“Good night, my Lady Love,” Aemond murmured, his violet gaze lingering on you until you vanished around a distant corner. His heart swelled with an unexpected mix of hope and affection, the chaotic Targaryen supper and the impending shadows of war fading from his mind. With a tender gesture, he brushed his fingertip against the spot where your lips had just brushed against his, savoring the memory.

And as you stalked off into the dimly lit corridors of the castle, the weight of his gaze lingered, leaving you with a tumult of emotions swirling in your mind, an echo of the kiss that you could neither dismiss nor desire to forget.

[littlebird95]

I have always perceived the act of kneeling in the scene where Tav undergoes the transformation into a spawn not merely as an act of submission, but as a kind of oath-taking ceremony. In D&D lore, vampires possess a lawful evil alignment, which is inseparable from strict principles of hierarchy. Astarion calls Tav his consort, emphasizing not only his power and status but also Tav's crucial role in his plans. This also symbolizes their union within the framework of vampiric hierarchy and the new life that will begin after Tav's transformation.

Consort is a title traditionally used to refer to the spouse of a monarch. In the context of a royal family, a consort does not hold the rights of a ruler but serves as an important figure in public and state affairs.

It is particularly noteworthy that it is right after the night of the turning that Astarion first calls Tav his consort, which I personally cannot see as mere coincidence unless he intentionally imbued the event with ritualistic meaning. Such wording is undoubtedly steeped in an aura of regal solemnity, which is especially remarkable for Astarion, given his yearning for grandeur and liberation from his former subordinate position.

When Tav knelt before Astarion, I was reminded of the painting «The Coronation of Napoleon» by the French artist Jacques-Louis David. The painting depicts the moment when Napoleon Bonaparte crowns his wife Josephine during the ceremony held in 1804 at Notre-Dame de Paris. Napoleon stands on an elevated platform in his imperial attire, including a luxurious cloak trimmed with ermine, as he places the crown on Josephine's head himself.

Meanwhile, in the developer's note to the animation tag for this scene in the game, it says: «Tav kneels before Astarion. Astarion stands proud before the Player. He is powerful. He is free.»

I have no doubt that Astarion was indeed imbuing this moment with a special ritualistic meaning. He wants Tav to acknowledge his supremacy by kneeling before him, as if it were an oath-taking ceremony. This is not just an act of dominance but a kind of ritual with profound cultural and historical undertones.

Undoubtedly, this scene is filled with clear eroticism, which perfectly aligns with Astarion's love for decadence and theatrics. I find this quite amusing, and I'm sure Astarion also enjoyed playing with this subtext, giving the moment a particular sexual tension and sharpness. All of this comes together in a quirky pattern, creating an exceptionally rich scene where cultural and erotic motifs intertwine.

Kneeling is a gesture that carries a variety of meanings depending on the cultural, historical, and social context. It is commonly associated with expressions of respect, submission, devotion, or acknowledgment. In a religious context, kneeling symbolizes reverence before a higher power, humility, or repentance. For example, in Christianity, people kneel before an altar or during prayer. In some religions, the gesture signifies a plea for help, mercy, or forgiveness. In a monarchical context, kneeling has been used as part of rituals such as knighting ceremonies or being admitted into the circle of royal privileges. In the feudal context of the Middle Ages, vassals knelt before their liege lord as a symbol of loyalty and submission. This act was often accompanied by kissing the hand or a symbol of authority (such as a sword or crown). In a romantic context, kneeling is a gesture symbolizing a marriage proposal, as well as an expression of respect, admiration, and love.

For myself, I highlight the following:

Acknowledgment of sovereignty — kneeling before a monarch symbolizes submission to the authority of the crown and recognition of its legitimacy.

Acceptance into the circle of royal privileges — in this context, the act can be interpreted as a ritual of initiation, where kneeling marks entry into an exclusive circle, granting access to the advantages and status associated with monarchy.

Astarion perceives himself and Tav as something superior to all other beings, stemming from the fact that Tav becomes a vampire. He believes that the transformation of Tav into a vampire grants them the opportunity to become "something more," elevating them to a new level. This transformation not only makes Tav a vampire but also symbolizes their entry into a special, elite category of beings who possess power and authority beyond the reach of ordinary mortals or other creatures. For Astarion, as a vampire, this means that Tav can now share in his greatness.

Astarion: You are stronger now. Better. You will thank me one day, I am sure. Astarion: You will be stronger, swifter, sharper, but you won't be different. You were already perfect before. It's hard to improve.

An expression of respect and devotion — such a gesture underscores reverence for the monarch as a divine or political symbol.

Kneeling as an act of humiliation:

In Astarion's thoughts, one can discern that he views Tav’s decision to stay with him and become his spawn as something indicative of degradation, perhaps even moral decline.

When Tav agrees to become Astarion’s spawn, it can be interpreted as a conscious act of self-sacrifice, where they relinquish equality in the relationship and willingly submit to him. This step symbolizes the rejection of personal autonomy and the acceptance of absolute dependence. Tav entrusts their life entirely into his hands. Astarion: You have given me everything. Thank you.

Astarion likely perceives such a decision as a form of "degradation," believing that a normal person, from his perspective, would not make such a choice. He tries to understand why Tav would do this and concludes that Tav derives a certain satisfaction from such a dynamic, perhaps even having an inclination toward it. Narrator: But perhaps you wish to degrade yourself. And he knows it.

This explains his surprise when Tav, contrary to his expectations, asks for tenderness. It’s simply not what he anticipates. His reaction reveals confusion and forces him to reassess Tav’s motives, as such a request goes beyond the scenario he had envisioned.

Astarion: So, tell me what you desire. What can I do for my dearest pet? Player: I want you. I want your body. Astarion: You've earned it. But don't you want more - don't you want eternity? One more bite is all it would take. As for Welch's remark that Astarion "won’t respect you," this narrative only applies to the phrase "I want your body," which itself is not required in the game. This line adds an interpretative layer but is not central to all the possible interactions between Tav and Ascended Astarion.

Baudelaire Welch: He's literally looking down on you because you are someone in that situation who believes you deserve sex as a reward. He will give it to you, but he won't respect you.

In essence, the entire narrative about the sexualization parallels the scene with Araj in Act 2, where the player asks for sex as a reward for defending Astarion before Araj or helping with Yurgir's murder. And although Welch desperately tried to impose this motif in the Ascended route, limiting roleplay, it is not the only one, and far from the most obvious. There are other reasons to help Astarion with the ritual, and even he is aware of them:

Astarion: Of course I understand love. All too well. The gravest crimes committed in this world are committed for love. A hunger crueller than bloodlust.

Many also overlook that Tav's consent to become his spawn is seen by Astarion as an expression of exceptional trust and devotion. His gratitude the following morning confirms this: he sincerely expresses appreciation for the trust shown in the very first phrase he addresses to Tav. Astarion: You are so beautiful... And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you for trusting me. Moreover, trust becomes the leitmotif of his dialogues afterwards, especially when their relationship with Tav is questioned or criticized by their companions. Each time, he emphasizes that their relationship is built on this foundation:

Karlach: You know, Astarion, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore. You're… different. A bit scary, to be honest. Astarion: I have one person who trusts me completely. That's enough for me. Lae'zel: You have shared your new power with your lover, Astarion. I'm surprised - I expected you to turn your back once you got what you wanted. Astarion: Quite the opposite - I need someone I can trust. And now I know they'll never betray me.

Unfortunately, in the kiss scenes of Patch 6, the original context was lost, and the focus shifted to themes of fear and humiliation that were not present in the original dynamic with Ascended Astarion. Considering that the kiss scenes were based on the scene of Tav’s transformation into a spawn, which is almost obvious, their emotional tone was distorted. For example, initially, Tav knelt entirely of their own free will, which emphasized the intentional and voluntary nature of their decision. In the kiss scenes, on the contrary, Tav is shown kneeling out of fear, the source of which remains unclear. Throughout the game, it is never shown what consequences Tav could fear for refusing to do so. In the transformation scene, Tav can refuse and not face any frightening consequences.

It also seems illogical when Tav is frightened when Astarion grabs them by the throat. This contradicts the transformation scene, where Tav themself initiated it, asking Astarion to hurt them and even tilting their head back, exposing their neck.

Astarion: It will only hurt a bit, the pleasure will be far greater than the pain. Player: Oh, come on. Let it hurt.

In the kiss scenes, however, this dynamic, based on mutual consent, was changed to an act of violence. This further exacerbates the inconsistency, especially considering that in the original script of this scene, it was noted that both Tav and Astarion derive pleasure from what is happening.

In dialogues, Ascended Astarion also demonstrated a willingness to be tender with Tav when Tav expressed it through words. He was not solely focused on rough dominance, as was attempted to be imposed in Patch 6. This change is likely an attempt by Larian to please the audience who, without going through the Ascended route and without understanding its nuances, actively promotes the narrative of the collective majority about the cycle of abuse.

Yes, the facial expressions in the kiss animations were changed due to fan requests for the Ascended route, but the aftertaste and consequences of these changes remain.

Some players still argue that facial expressions in role-playing games should be imposed "for the sake of the great narrative," while others use game conventions, such as cyclicality of animations, to demand the return of scared expressions. However, bringing back this dynamic would undermine the story and the character that fans of Ascended Astarion have known and loved for six months after the game's release.

In my opinion, to expand the role-playing experience, it would be much more useful not to return the scared expressions as an option, but to add the possibility for the lord to use more standard kisses, similar to those in Patch 5.

It is unclear why many are convinced that the vampire lord is incapable of tender kisses with Tav when his love scene demonstrated just this tenderness, and the moment with the kiss on the hand is one of the most refined and delicate romantic episodes. In particular, the kiss on the hand, which happens after the "be gentle" option is chosen, not only emphasizes Astarion's attention to Tav's desires and his willingness to listen, but also contradicts the notion of his exclusively dominant and cold nature.

If Astarion is capable of expressing such tenderness in intimacy, why is it excluded that the same softness could be maintained in his kisses?

The kiss in Patch 6 would only make sense if, upon choosing the "be gentle… if you can" option, Astarion ignored Tav's request, and his actions were no different from those in the "let it hurt" option.

I would also like to draw attention to the sharp contrast in Tav's facial expressions in the bite scenes, written by different writers. In Act 1, when Astarion was written only by Stephen Rooney, Tav's facial expression shows ecstasy, and this same expression is repeated in the lord's love scene, which, according to Welch, they did not write.

However, in the transformation scene, which, as Welch confirms, was written with their involvement, Tav's facial expression is noticeably different.

It’s not fear, like in the kisses from Patch 6, but the expression conveys a "problematic/kinky" mood — a term that Welch themselves used to describe this scene. This looks particularly strange in the dialogue where Tav explicitly asks to be hurt:

Astarion: Shall we have one last night together before you join me in immortality? One for the road, so to speak. Player: We shall not. I just need you to bite me. Astarion: Impatient are we? Well who am I to deny you?

This suggests that Welch’s views on "kinks" are at least debatable, and this influences how they are portrayed in the game. For example, Welch sees the transformation into a spawn as an "irreversible sex-pact/kink/form of gratification," but Tav's reaction in this scene is somewhat more uneasy than in previous episodes involving similar actions.

Both scenes are consensual, but they have a different tone simply because one of the writers condemned the player for "kinks," while the other did not.

In the cinematic context for the transformation scene, the following was stated: "You are naked and vulnerable before him." This feeling, it seems to me, is what the animators tried to convey and embody, capturing the intimacy of the moment. However, with the release of Patch 6, this message became distorted, turning into something entirely different — crude and devoid of the original subtle undertones.

In this context, I believe that the kisses from Patch 7 appear much more consistent compared to the facial expressions in Patch 6.

Especially when considering the following points:

Astarion grabs Tav by the neck solely at the player's initiative, and the dialogue clearly implies that Tav wants this.

Tav has previously reacted with obvious pleasure to similar actions by Astarion in other scenes.

I genuinely do not understand why Baudelaire Welch's contribution should be considered more significant, given that they joined the project during the later stages of the game's development. Especially when you consider that the character was originally created by another writer, who laid the foundation for his personality, story, and key traits. Prioritizing late additions that distort the original concept seems unfair and disrespectful to Astarion's creator and his vision.

At this point, I would like there to be an option in the game to kiss Astarion's hand. A hand kiss is also a symbolic gesture that conveys respect, devotion, submission, and acknowledgment of power or authority. I find this incredibly romantic, and I truly miss it. It would further emphasize the symbolism of this route.

[bumblebugwrites]

Borrowed and Blue

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: In another brilliant plot to keep the agency afloat, Lockwood decides to marry you for tax benefits. Only he seemed to have forgotten to let you know. With an inspector from DEPRAC coming to ensure the legitimacy of your marriage, what’s left but to tell you the truth? Only you don’t take it too well. And you happen to be the world’s worst liar.

Warnings: Cursing, Minor angst, Unedited writing.

A/N: So “Lover” coded that I had to indulge myself with the title.

Word Count: 3.1k 

“Luce, I’ll need you to go to Satchell’s and pick some salt-bombs; we’ve been running pretty low lately. And George, once you’ve hit the Archive for the day, if you could–”

As Lockwood’s incessant directions continued, you allowed your head to slump forward so as to obscure his looming figure with the shape of the quickly cooling mug in your hands.

“Oh, and that reminds me (Y/N), the inspector’s coming round this afternoon to ensure the validity of our marriage, so I’ll need you to be prepared for that.” That sentence alone was enough to pull you away from your own thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The question was followed by a soft chuckle, the kind you only managed when you’d been caught off guard.

“Did I forget to tell you about the visit?” 

“You’re joking, right?”

Across the small table, George cleared his throat awkwardly, moving to make his escape before Lucy’s sweater-clad arm shot out, pulling him back into his seat, fully enthralled with the happenings before her.

“Lockwood?” From his place at the counter, he hummed back in response. Still, the brunet had busied himself at an unprecedented pace with making a piece of toast and refused to turn his head in acknowledgment.

“This is a joke, right? Because I would know if we were actually married, right?” He made no answer, but his avoidance of your gaze had already been enough to send you over the edge, and you nearly reeled as a physical spike of panic shot through your core.

“Anthony Lockwood, you answer me right now.” You were standing now and teetering on the edge of making your way out into the entry and returning with some choice words and your rapier.

“Well, it’s not like you missed the marriage. I did bring you along.”

“What?”

“You remember that day I brought you with me to the Register Office?”

“You said you needed someone to co-sign the water bill.”

“I gave you a ring–”

“You said you got that out of one of those coin machines full of toys! I thought it was just a silly gift!”

“Right, well, I’m not buying you another wedding ring, so you had better still have it.”

“Lockwood! You can’t just marry someone without asking!” By now, you had left your seat to jab angrily at his chest as you marked each new point. From her place beside George, Lucy slurped at her tea.

“Look, I had already mortgaged the house to hell and back, and we needed the money desperately, so I figured an extra tax write-off couldn’t hurt.” And though it shouldn’t have, the rage quelled itself a little.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” But your voice lacked the anger from before, hitting sharper as each word was tinged with hurt.

“You would have said no. And besides, you’re a terrible liar.” Lockwood flashed you with his signature smile at that last bit, and you couldn’t help the warmth that began to bloom deep within you. You had to admit, being married to Lockwood wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Especially with the insufferable feelings you’d been housing for the boy for the last year and a half. Still, this was not how you wanted things to go. 

“But wait, that trip to the Register’s Office was at least a year ago. Why are they coming for a visit now?” One of Lockwood’s hands which had planted itself on your shoulder in a soothing gesture, leapt up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Well, the thing is, because we aren’t legally adults and neither of us have any parents to sign off on a marriage, I had to pull some strings with DEPRAC to get the license to even go through. So now, every year, to make sure everything is all legal, or whatever–” Lockwood raised his hands to form air quotes around the word legal but quickly retracted them as you swatted at the gesture.

“--they’ve insisted on sending an agent to perform a kind of check-in. To make sure we’re still in love and all that.”

“Still?” George questioned, only to be met with a prompt smack to the head from Lucy.

“So are you saying we could lose our jobs over this?”

“Let’s not forget the house,” supplied Lucy from behind her mug.

“And the house?” Lockwood didn’t answer immediately, instead selecting to fix his eyes on the floor.

“Presumably, yes, that could be one outcome–”

“Oh my god,” George groaned, moving his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“But not if all goes well,” Lockwood reassured the group.

“Right, so let me get this straight, the fate of our careers–”

“And our home,” Lucy interjected once more.

“And our home, is all in the hands of (Y/N), a notoriously bad liar, lying to a Fittes agent about a marriage she was unaware of until this morning?” George questioned.

“That would be correct.”

“We are so fucked.”

It had taken Lucy an hour to calm you down, let alone lure you out from under the covers of your shared bed. 

“I’ll kill him if you’d like me to.”

“Urgh, it’s not that, Luce, it’s just–” 

“It’s just that you wanted things to go differently?” Lucy raised a suggestive eyebrow as a slow smirk spread across her face, but there was no malice in her look. Embarrassed, you turned to hide your face in the pillow beside you.

“Look, Lockwood’s a twat, but he cares about you, and I’m sure if you asked, he would end the whole thing in a second. He was just, well, I hate to say it, but he was just trying to look out for us. In his own, extremely fucked up Lockwood way.” Lucy added the last sentence in a quick attempt to amend the ever-souring scowl on your face.

“And hey, who knows, maybe something will finally come out of this. I mean, you have to admit, being married is pretty romantic.” She smiled at you, and it was soft, encouraging almost.

“Besides, it’s not like the two of you weren’t going to end up together anyways. If anything, he’s just streamlined the process.” With that, you tightened your grasp on the pillow, swinging it in a deadly arc aimed at her head. Just then, a third voice interrupted your siege.

“Oh, hi Luce, mind if I have a quick word with my wife?” 

Your eyes grew wide as they took in Lockwood’s lanky figure, leaning with ease against the railing at the head of the stairs.

“Too soon, Lockwood,” you grumbled, and for a moment, the suave smirk didn’t reach his eyes. Still, he moved slowly into the room as Lucy made her exit, throwing you a thumbs up as she descended from out of the attic.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crush your legs beneath the covers, he appeared almost nervous before his hand disappeared into his pocket and rematerialized, holding a small velvet box.

“This is for you.” He smiled to himself, sweet and boyish, as he was in moments like these. Moments with just you two. As you moved to take the box from his grasp, his fingers touched yours, lingering against them for just a second before pulling away.

The box was old. That much was immediately obvious. And the hinges keeping it together were rusty enough to make opening it a bit of an effort, but when the lid lifted, your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh, Lockwood, it’s beautiful.” You sat in awe of the small ring nestled within the box’s velvet folds. It was simple but elegant, with a single gem at its center, and you couldn’t help but reach out to trace the smooth metal of its shank.

“Where did you–”

“It was my mothers.” His voice was vulnerable, barely above a whisper.

“Lockwood, I can’t–”

“It’s fine, really. Besides, it's just for today.” But you could see the stress the simple action caused him from the way he toyed with the wedding band now looped around his own finger.

 “Anyways, I really just came up here to go over the plan.” 

“The plan?” You balked, eyes snapping away from the heirloom in your hands.

“Yes, we need a story, of course. How we fell in love, how we came to be married. You should know our wedding anniversary as well. April 14th, remember that.”

“April 14th? But that’s today.”

“And?”

“I– I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“Well, it's not like this is a real marriage.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m thinking we say I fell in love first, then you. Women love that sort of thing–”

“No, no, we should say we’ve been in love since the moment we met,” you argued, thinking of your own feelings.

“Well, that’s not very realistic.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn– can’t be true.”

“I suppose so.”

“Maybe we should both just think of our own moment. When we fell in love with the other.” Lockwood seemed suddenly to choke on air but quickly coughed his way past it.

“Great idea.”

“We can say you proposed on a bridge overlooking the Thames,” you suggested, but Lockwood only scoffed at the idea.

“Actually, I was thinking we could say it happened on a mission. Maybe you were hurt, and I was afraid I might lose you forever. That when I realized you were alright, I asked you to marry me on the spot. That I didn’t see the point in wasting any more time on anyone else.”

Your mouth grew dry at his suggestion, and the best you could attempt was a meek nod in response.

“Perfect,” he stood quickly, as though brushing off the intimacy of the moment, and began to head for the stairs, “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready then.” By the time you’d managed to grasp your words, he had disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts and his mother’s ring. 

You were descending the stairs when the knock came, and you felt your hand move to twist anxiously at the ring newly decorating your finger. At the bottom of the stairs, Lockwood turned his head just in time to meet your gaze, the nervous look plastered across his face softening into one of ease. Probably just for show. You reassured yourself, straightening your shoulders as you reached the final step. Just before opening the door, the boy beside you cast some final words in your direction.

“Remember, I’ll do most of the talking.”

You could only nod in response as the door swung open, revealing the DEPRAC agent. She seemed immediately to be a severe woman with a stern look set deep within her face and eyes that scanned each of you suspiciously before entering the home. 

“Is there somewhere you’d prefer for me to conduct my interview.”

“That would be the library,” answered Lockwood, jumping into action, “(Y/N) love, how about you pop the kettle on and maybe grab some biscuits.” 

“Of course.” You smiled, but it was forced, the only mirth in your soul emerging from the sure knowledge that George would have a field day with Lockwood later on for his failure to follow the ‘Biscuit Rule’.

As he departed for the library, guiding the woman along with him, you could already hear the echos of his charming chatter as they bounced off the walls of the home. Everything will be fine, the words looped in a self-soothing mantra, filling every corner of your head as you prayed to any god that would listen to get through this interview in one piece.

“And when would you say you fell in love with Miss. (L/N)?” The woman made no reaction to her question, simply opting to continue scribbling notes on her pad. Thus far, Lockwood had done a successful job of veering most questions away from you, though it would be a miracle if your nerves had gone unnoticed between the incessant bouncing of your leg and your consumption of three separate cups of tea over the span of thirty minutes.

“In love?” Lockwood stuttered beside you, and you and the woman turned simultaneously to inspect him closer, his confident facade nearly shattered at the mention of the word. Still, he recovered rather quickly, retrieving his easy smile only a second later.

“Yes, well, I assume that came before the marriage.”

“Of course. Let’s see, then.” He stopped for a moment as though pondering the question though the movement of his hand as he toyed with his ring confirmed to you he was just nervous. In an action you could only hope appeared natural, you reached over, stilling his fidgeting fingers by lacing them with your own. Lockwood looked suddenly at you, and the quiet crack in his performance showed itself only to your eyes.

“It was six months after we first met. We’d been researching for a big mission all day, and when we finally got home, I passed out. I woke up; it was probably three in the morning by then. Came down to the kitchen for some water and– and there you were, in the library, fast asleep.” Lockwood had long since stopped looking at the inspector. “You were in my armchair. I’d probably seen you in that armchair a thousand times. And you had a case file spread out over your chest. You looked ridiculous. But I knew immediately something had changed. I could feel it as I carried you up to the attic that night and the next morning while I was sat listening to you laugh at George’s stupid jokes. Like those feelings that were just a bit of a bother before were eating me alive. It’s– It’s how I feel every time I look at you: like I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life and yet perfectly at home at the same time.” He was quick to look away when he finished, flashing the DEPRAC agent with a smile and leaving you frozen in the wake of his words, struck by his ability to manipulate the truth.

“Just one more question then. Ms. (L/N), marriage at sixteen that’s not something you see every day. What made you say yes?”

Lockwood’s eyes flashed quickly to your face, but as he opened his mouth, the woman quieted him with a motion of her hand. 

“Not you, Mr. Lockwood. I’d like to hear from Ms. (L/N).”

This had not been within the parameters of your preparation. Lockwood’s favorite color, how he took his tea, the date of your anniversary? Easy breezy. You might have even been able to fumble your way through how you’d fallen in love with the arrogant bastard, given its basis in the truth. But you weren’t really married, and you’d never really said yes, so where did that leave you? And like a saving a grace, a question made itself known in your head. If Lockwood had really asked you, why would you have said yes?

“I suppose I didn’t quite understand the proposal at first either.” That much was true; for fucks sake, you’d missed the thing entirely. “But after a while, it made sense. I mean, not a day goes by we aren’t risking our lives for our work. There’s no guarantee of any future with a job like this, so why not marry young? Otherwise, we might not marry at all.” The second part came out rushed, the lie forcing its way past your lips. It wasn’t in your character to be impulsive, even if time seemed to be your enemy. Still, you forced yourself to delve deeper. To seek a truthful answer to that lingering question. Your breathing slowed.

“And then, one day, I think I realized that for me, it was always going to be Lockwood. That had he asked me five or ten or even twenty years down the line when we were old and boring, I’d of still said yes. Because– Well, because I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” 

You turned your head slowly to catch Lockwood’s eyes lingering on your face. His expression was unreadable. Your brow creased in your efforts to learn more from the set of his features, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him. 

The woman’s notebook snapped shut. You felt yourself scramble from the loveseat you’d been sharing with the boy, and he followed close behind.

“That’s all from me. The agency will contact you in a few days to follow up, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ve passed.”

Without giving time for the information to be digested, she stood and left. Turning to face Lockwood, you were quick to pull his mother’s ring from your finger and place it in his palm.

“Well, now that that’s finished–”

“(Y/N)--” 

“I’ll be in the attic–”

“(Y/N).”

“Lots of research, probably.”

“How did you do that.” The look on his face was one of disbelief when you finally met his gaze again.

“What?” You knew what.

“You know what. You can’t lie to save your life. How did you–”

“Really don’t see how this is important, Lockwood–”

“Were you telling the truth?” You were silent for a moment.

“You got us into this. I could’ve– I would’ve stayed silent forever, but you had to come up with another insufferable plot. And I’m sorry, I can’t lie like it’s some sort of second language– That was quite good, by the way, the way you made me feel– made it seem like there was some chance in hell that you loved me back–”

He dragged you in all at once, catching you by the waist and interrupting your scattered thoughts with his lips. Kissing you. Soft at first, but deeper, harder, as you brought your hands up to his neck. As you kissed back. By the time he pulled away, you were breathless.

“It was never– I was never– God if I thought I could lie my way through this, I would’ve asked George or Lucy even. It had to be you because– because it was always real with you. I have loved you ever since I met you. That night in the library only confirmed it.”

“I thought that was unrealistic.”

“Maybe for someone who's never been in love with you.”

“Ask me again if I’ll marry you.”

“Again?” His eyebrows raised at the implication that there had been a first time.

“Just do it, you twat.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”

“A million times yes, Anthony Lockwood. A million times, yes.”

[synchodai]

"But Jace inherits the crown through Rhaenyra, so it shouldn't matter who his father was." How many times do we have to have this discussion: a bastard cannot inherit, especially if he has trueborn siblings. Marriages are political agreements that decree that the child born from said marriage gets their parents' lands and titles. Harwin and Rhaenyra made no such contract and therefore Jace is entitled to neither parents' holdings and/or titles. Rhaenyra could legitimize Jace, but doing so would acknowledge that he is a Strong and not a Velaryon which makes her sons forfeit the Driftmark wealth and navy.

"Jace doesn't need a dragon to prove that he's a Targaryen when he's obviously Rhaenyra's son." Jace being upset over the lowborn dragonseeds wasn't because him being Rhaenyra's son was ever in question. It's because he knows that being a bastard will not make people respect his right to rule and so he has to surround himself with other signs of legitimacy like a dragon. Dragons are seen by Jace, and a lot of Westerosi, as status symbols. By giving dragons to the lowborn, they are being devalued as indicators of a divine mandate. In short, he knows people won't care that he's Rhaenyra's biological son if he doesn't have the Targaryen might and mystique to back it up.

Again, this is feudalism. Marriages are political contracts. Biological parentage alone is not sufficient to argue your right to succession, because people had children outside of wedlock from multiple women all the time. A marriage contract between parents is what secures a child's inheritance, and Jace doesn't have that.

[scotianostra]

On 20th January 1649 Charles I went on trial at Westminster.

The King was accused of being ‘a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and a public and implacable enemy to the Commonwealth of England’. The situation was unprecedented – this was the first time a sitting king had been brought to trial in England, and it would end in Charles’s death and the abolition of the monarchy.

Charles’s relationship with his Parliament had been poor since the beginning of his reign in 1625. There were ongoing tensions over many issues – particularly money – and despite Parliament’s insistence that it had an essential role, Charles was a firm believer that by the Royal Prerogative he could govern alone as he saw fit.

This fight for power eventually lead to the first English Civil War in 1642, with Parliamentarians set against Royalists. After a series of defeats for the Royalists, it ended in 1646 and Charles was held under house arrest by Parliament. But while in captivity, he plotted with the Scots, who planned an invasion on his behalf to restore him to the throne. A second Civil War broke out in 1648, in which the Royalists were once again defeated. Now Charles was to be held personally responsible for inviting the Scots to invade, and causing the deaths of thousands of people. He was to be tried for treason against England.

Charles believed wholeheartedly in the divine right of kings – that the king was responsible to God alone and that no mortal man could judge him – and did not recognise the authority of the court. When John Cooke, the chief prosecutor, began speaking to ask that the charge against Charles be read, the king repeatedly tapped Cooke on the shoulder with his cane, demanding that he ‘hold’. Cooke continued to speak, until Charles hit him hard enough that the silver tip of the cane broke off and fell to the floor. King Charles, who had been waited on hand and foot since birth, looked for someone else to pick it up but no one did. Eventually he reached for it himself, putting it in his pocket. This reminds of the current King Charles who furiously motioned for an aide to move an ink pot as he signed the proclamation, many on social media found the moment amusing and turned it into a meme....back to his namesake.......

Throughout the trial Charles refused to enter a plea as he believed that would be to acknowledge the legitimacy of the process. It frustrated the court, and Parliament decided there was no other course they could take but execution. Charles was again brought before them on 27th January. He was refused his title, and referred to only as ‘Charles Stuart’ when he was told that he had been found guilty of the charges against him, and would be put to death.

Charles I was beheaded on 30th January 1649, and England was declared a Commonwealth. This lasted until 1660 and the restoration of the monarchy when Charles’s son, Charles II, was welcomed back from exile to take his throne.

[myapothecarydiary]

Thoughts from reading The Apothecary Diaries Manga Ch. 4

First have to share some thoughts about the title page because look at it! I love how the moon looks like an ominous eye and the "ghostly" figure looks more sinister than ethereal. And check the framing at the bottom with the cotton rose. I love details!

Right away we get some framework for this chapter–it will address freeing oneself from one's circumstances. A woman traversing (or dancing on) the line (or wall) between freedom and captivity is quite the image. Escaping the cage of the rear palace is said to be impossible, but is it?

Maomao values competence–we see this so often with her praise of certain individuals and criticisms of others (see Hongniang vs Jinshi)

And instantly we get an example of someone she criticizes for their work ethic–Jinshi, of course.

Here her mind takes her thoughts of criticism a bit further. "As a eunuch, he should be in the offices of the palace domestic service..."

"...but he doesn't seem to be attached to any one place...it's as if he's overseeing the entire inner court. Perhaps he ranks higher than a director then..."

Maomao is beginning to connect the dots about Jinshi. If he isn't acting like a normal eunuch, then maybe there's more to him and his position than she initially thought. His actual position perhaps explains his odd behavior.

Lol I adore lightbulb Maomao. Her "assumption" that Jinshi is the Emperor's lover is both kind of a way for her to stop thinking too much about Jinshi's actual position/identity (preventing herself from reaching the truth) and an indication of where her mind goes due to her background. It's also funny how casual Maomao is about "indecent" thoughts coupled with how Jinshi still clocks that type of thought crossing her mind (maybe she isn't as casual/unaffected as you'd think and/or Jinshi is good at picking up on those types of thoughts due to his looks and the situations they potentially get him into).

I feel like Maomao defaults to assuming people have a certain level of lust/desire. There may be some legitimacy to her interpretation, but I also find it interesting considering how she herself comes across as lacking this sense of lust and attraction. She never exactly describes herself as "different from others/the norm," but she is conscious of how she is different/unusual.

I guess that is to say it is not something that really bothers her or something she gets caught up on. She just views it as a fact of life. It's as if through her personality and upbringing, she has been forged into this almost "objective" observer, which is reflected in her skill for deducing information and solving mysteries. Like with describing how anyone would be attracted to Jinshi, she does not include herself in any reflection on "everyone." But she is not objective and recognizes this–acknowledging the background that formed her knowledge and perspective + emphasizing when conclusions come from "conjecture." That being said, I do think she is more affected by things than she likes to admit and is suppressing certain thoughts and feelings. She does to herself as she does with discovering knowledge about others–like with the pieces she is putting together regarding Jinshi, it is easier to not think too much about certain things.

Going back to lust, she is matter-of-fact about its existence, but perhaps she puts too much weight on it sometimes. I feel like she is more willing to acknowledge her bias and subjective pov regarding other topics. And she is different, but maybe others, though they act a certain way outwardly, are more like her on the inside than she thinks.

Anyway, Maomao has deduced that Jinshi: oversees the rear palace, has a higher position than it seems + one that affords him a certain amount of freedom, is connected to the Emperor somehow.

~time line interlude~

3 months in rear palace @ start of the story: Maomao writes notes of warning to Gyokuyou and Lihua

1 month later: Lihua's son passes, Jinshi tracks down Maomao and makes her Gyokuyou's lady-in-waiting

1 month later, ~5 months in rear palace/1 month in Jade Pavilion: Maomao approached about "ghost"

We continue...

So, the reason I wanted to outline the timing of everything and how long Maomao has been in the rear palace and specifically the Jade Pavilion is because of how Maomao treats Jinshi here (and how she has come to understand his behavior).

He's seeking her out directly and one-on-one, and she can tell this means he wants something from her. Interesting that this makes her privy to certain information not to be heard by everyone (like the doctor. Or does Jinshi simply want to be alone with her for his own benefit/to work his charms? Both?) It's funny when taken with how people like the other ladies-in-waiting and Xiaolan gossip to her–with all the information, gossip or more official, she's like "leave me alone with this" while also being curious.

More notable is how Maomao speaks to Jinshi. "Why are you really here?" Very blunt and kind of throwing her respected etiquette out the window! It's like the "you're a caterpillar" glare in verbal form. She's really skirting the line now, if she hasn't already crossed it. This increasingly expressed lack of respect for etiquette and Jinshi seems indicative of growth in their relationship, as odd as that may sound. Has she learned how far she can push it? Does she not fear Jinshi as much as she perhaps did at the start? This behavior doesn't seem very "I want my head to stay attached to my body" of Maomao.

Which reminds me–look how much she avoids his gaze/looking at him. Is this her trying to remain that modicum of respect and/or to not be subjected to his fake, overbearing smile?

It seems Jinshi is learning how to pique Maomao's interest, but this little "It's not that hard to figure out" and Maomao's upset response to it stands out to me as it is an adaptational change and I'm not totally sure what to make of it. Is he trying to show off? Does this work to emphasize his own deduction skills?

Maomao's statement of her area of expertise in the light novel is an attempt to get Jinshi to leave her alone with this topic (and in general), but here it almost comes across as an angry rebuttal like "hey, that's my territory, I know more than you."

This is also more of "lack of physical boundaries" Jinshi with Maomao clearly rejecting his touch and trying to remove him. Is this for his own enjoyment or is he still trying to seduce her? It feels like he is toying with her. In the light novel, I feel like it is more clear that he is trying to get her to help him and knows she can't say no if she meets his gaze. I guess this is a more physical interpretation where he actually grabs her to make her look at him.

The whole scene does end with her giving in once forced to look him in the eye. But the interest she showed regarding sleepwalking seems like a more promising approach than Jinshi's go-to method. Does he realize this?

I guess this scene in particular is one where I would benefit from hearing the thoughts of others.

Sorry to get stuck on Apothecary's presentation of gender (but not really because I find it fascinating and thought provoking haha), but here we have another example of Maomao's understanding and perspective being challenged with how Gaoshun looks "very masculine" and not "like a typical eunuch at all."

I think there are a couple of interesting things happening here. Maomao comes at gender from a perspective very reflective of the context in which she exists, and in some ways, what first appears to challenge that perspective actually works to reaffirm it. Gaoshun appearing more masculine and like a military man is not presented in the story to challenge a bias but it is Maomao's first clue that something else is going on with Gaoshun, that there's more to the story. The same thing happens later when Maomao inspects Jinshi's body and sees it is more muscular than a eunuch's would be. Without further investigation, the presentation of eunuchs that don't fit the stereotype challenges that stereotype, but the truth of the matter actually kind of relies on and reaffirms those stereotypes. Gaoshun isn't just a eunuch and wasn't always a eunuch. Jinshi isn't a eunuch at all. If they didn't seem like regular eunuchs, it's because they are not.

And yet, Jinshi still appears very feminine. That is, arguably in part due to the drugs/forms of suppression Jinshi uses to assume his eunuch persona and operate in the rear palace, but even without those measures, he still possesses a great "feminine" beauty. He is sort of a contradictory figure in that sense.

So I don't continue to rant and ramble and disrupt the flow too much, I will expand more on these thoughts and the pin I put in the idea of how Maomao views beauty back in chapter one here.

Curiosity vs. etiquette/respect for rank–Gaoshun not being the stereotypical eunuch scratches Maomao's brain though.

Gaoshun's request for Maomao = Maomao is not being as subtle as she thinks + Gaoshun is observant too.

The introduction of Xiaomao! The cutest. And an indication of some of Gaoshun's fatherly and affectionate ways.

This reminds me of @i-guess-im-into-this-now's thoughts on how this chapter is covered in the anime–they note that with Yinghua and the other ladies-in-waiting worrying about her and the doctor providing her with tea and snacks, Maomao is "slowly building a support network." I love this, and here Gaoshun joins in! I think a nickname like "Xiaomao" is a little opening, through which affection seeps. Maomao is accumulating a circle of people who care about her, and as much as she wants to put her head down and do the work until her time is up and she's free to leave the rear palace, I think this circle of people will complicate that, whether she admits their impact or not. She's also becoming imbedded in this circle and building a life here.

This support network can also serve to contrast the initial perception of the rear palace–one full of fakeness and skin-deep beauty, a cage that traps women and pits them against each other with the sole goal of producing an heir. It still is these things, but there's more to it than that. There is genuine affection and care. It would be easy to write off the rear palace as being full of game pieces and a means to an end. And a lot of the time, people treat it as such (even among themselves in the rear palace), but the motivations behind the actions are often very messy and human. So there's a combination of humanness and dehumanization. Considering all of this, the rear palace also functions as a fairly good metaphor for Jinshi.

And speaking of Jinshi, he truly looks like an excited little kid when he is telling Gaoshun about Maomao's way of looking at him. I love seeing the contrast in the depiction of Jinshi when he himself is reflecting on Maomao's glares and when Gaoshun is reflecting on it.

Gaoshun of course views Jinshi as a child he looks after (along with respecting Jinshi's position) because he is a father figure to Jinshi and does know his true age (and identity), but Jinshi does seem younger/more his age in his excitement about Maomao. She often brings out the true him.

Jinshi himself refers to Maomao as a "toy," which could be considered a childish way of viewing things and thus also indicative of his true age and identity, but within the context, he is also thinking of her as a useful "tool," which sort of feels like a nastier, more grown-up way of viewing a toy. That being said, Jinshi's relationship with the concept of Maomao as a toy is complicated and emphasizing her usefulness could also function as him trying to justify his fascination and enjoyment regarding her to himself.

Either way, Maomao is disturbed by Jinshi's positive reaction to her glares XD

I just find this a fascinating, round-about explanation for why Gaoshun wants to avoid dealing with gleeful, Maomao-glare-induced Jinshi. Could it really be (or also be) that Maomao brings out that youthful, unprofessional behavior in Jinshi, jeopardizing Jinshi (and Gaoshun's) cover in the rear palace?

But yes, poor Gaoshun. Looking after Jinshi (and later Maomao too!) is surely a headache XD

Maomao realization then oh, I see face of deeper understanding. Is there a hint of sadness in those eyes? (about the reality of the situation and how women work to escape their fate?)

More moments of hmm will this be relevant later with "conflict of the heart [can't] be cured with medicine" Adding to my collection of ~medicine symbolism, poison symbolism~ Maybe I'm delusional, but certain lines and moments just hit hard, as if they are supposed to leave a mark.

Gyokuyou picks up on what's truly going on–understands the constraints of circumstances and how a woman must operate to navigate them.

Maomao is doing her duty but choosing where she ends her story/the extent of the information she shares. She will do this again in the future–it's sort of her way of possessing power/protecting individuals/seeking some form of justice within the confines of her station. In some ways, I think she does this with herself as well–"gatekeeps" parts of herself from others perhaps in part as a form of self-preservation.

I assume Gaoshun is trying to tell Maomao to hold in her "you're an insect" glare, but in how it pops up at this exact moment, it also almost appears like he is telling her to not give in to Jinshi and refrain from sharing all the details. To keep withholding information. Jinshi seems to know there's more to it.

I just love Gyokuyou and how this whole scene offers glimpses of the depth beneath her shiny exterior and position as the Emperor's favorite. More of that "the rear palace is more than skin deep."

Also love the insight from @i-guess-im-into-this-now that Maomao telling Gyokuyou the full story but not Jinshi reveals "where Maomao's trust and loyalty lies." I think Maomao probably also thought it was safer to reveal this information to Gyokuyou than Jinshi in terms of it not being used against Lady Fuyou, but I wonder if it is also indicative of her trusting women over men?

I mean just look at Gyokuyou's expression! This is an interesting clash of personal desire vs duty and what takes precedence. Maomao's expression here gets to me too, and I think she demonstrates an ability to sympathize with, or at least be understanding of, the situation Gyokuyou is in. You might think someone from Maomao's background, and someone who has spent time as a lowly servant in the rear palace, would be more resentful of the women higher up, but she seems to recognize that each position comes with its own constraints. Its own cage.

This bit here feels revealing about the Emperor and his relationship with Gyokuyou. Also speaking of desire vs duty, the Emperor gets to experience an intersection. Yes, it is his duty to father heirs, but let's not pretend that he doesn't get some enjoyment out of the process. He's serving the country and himself.

I do wonder about the differences between the story Maomao tells Jinshi and the one she tells Gyokuyou, the abbreviated version vs the extended version. Maybe I have removed myself from context by stewing over this chapter too long, but they both involve the courtesan gaming (or even cheating) the system. It's only in the second story that the courtesan is in cahoots with the buyers and playing for love. I could totally be missing something though and would love an expansion on this.

And here the ending hits with another moment of "how will this be important later on." What is the power of love? What could it cure? Interesting that Maomao observes how it enhances Lady Fuyou's beauty, almost like a natural counterpoint to cosmetics.

It feels like these beginning chapters are much more episodic in nature and work to establish the characters and the world and tease ideas that will be important down the line.

Referencing @i-guess-im-into-this-now yet again: "I wonder if the story of Lady Fuyou has any parallels to the main story? In a palace where the concubines and servants are trapped one of them manages to defy fate and escape to a future of her own choice." Thank you for sharing your wonderful analysis of the anime and I hope it's okay that I used it here! It revitalized my interest in this chapter quite a bit.

[s-b-party]

Imbibitor Lunae & Bailu of the Path of Permanence

****Spoilers for Imbibitor Lunae companion quest****

The title might not make sense now but trust me I’ll explain lol

To sum up Imbibitor Lunae’s companion quest, it looks more into Dan Heng’s past life as Dan Feng

As we see the internal conflict amongst the Vidyadhara, we also take a close look at the relationship between Dan Heng & Bailu as two high elders (past & present)

There are 2 main sides who want different things when it comes to the high elder: those who want Bailu to stay as the high elder & those who want to change the high elder

The main reason for those in support of Bailu is that she herself was chosen by Dan Feng previously, so it is a case, as Jing Yuan states, of legitimacy

Those in opposition of Bailu do not acknowledge her bc they believe she is weak

And of course a majority of the vidyadhara we see (aside from Bailu) does not want Dan Heng back anywhere amongst them bc of what Dan Feng did

To clear up some possible confusion, there are 2 crimes at this point that Dan Feng may have committed, one is in regard to Blade’s backstory & the other involves the transmutation arcanum; the one that seems to be more relevant in this companion quest is the 2nd one

NOTE: In my original thread on Twitter, my phrasing was poor so it sounded like it was all facts but it's still essentially theories/implications at this point so I apologize for my bad phrasing over there if that's what you saw first, remember to take with a grain of salt

*For context of the 1st crime, it's implied that Dan Feng granted immortality to someone of the short-lived species which turned out to be Yingxing aka Blade; it is known that immortality is taboo on the Xianzhou so it would not be surprising if Dan Feng got punished for helping someone become immortal, leading to his molting rebirth & eventual exile as punishment*

*Arcanum comes from Latin meaning secret, could also be referring to a cure/medicine at times, transmutation refers to the process of changing one material into another (they need to have similar properties in order to be transmutated i.e. one metal to another metal, etc.)*

When we look at the dialogue of some of the characters, we can see some who mention a “draconic abomination”; we don’t know for certain who this is referring to, some would suggest Bailu because of the word “draconic” but what doesn’t click immediately is that they seem to talk about this abomination as if it was violent which doesn’t seem to fit Bailu’s temperament; now we aren’t completely sure of everything that happened back then so perhaps this could imply that Dan Feng tried to alter the transmutation arcanum multiple times & got different results aka there were experiments; Bailu’s last character story explains that something likely went wrong w/ the transmutation arcanum which stunted her growth so it would seem that Bailu’s (re)birth wasn’t typical (she also hasn’t seen any dreams of dragon ancestors); idk if I would go so far as to call her an abomination so it might be someone else

The changes made to the transmutation arcanum were to help the Vidyadhara escape the constant cycles of rebirth & to give them a way to procreate normally; it seemed that Dan Feng somehow managed to find a solution to that & this was his 2nd crime (because he was playing god by creating life)

Now the reason why I mention all of this is because it can be tied into what the existence of Long the Permanence could mean and I think that IL & Bailu could be considered as those who embody (not follow) the Path of Permanence (I know they are the Paths of Destruction & Abundance respectfully but hear me out 😂)

HYV recently released the video regarding Long & it brought up an overall interesting question: what is the meaning behind the existence of permanence?

For Preceptor Taoran, he states “Only by comprehending & aligning with the way of the world can one’s path lead to everlasting existence. Countless new creations emerge when one dragon meets its end among the morning stars. For the Vidyadhara, this is the true meaning of the Permanence.” (2:16 in video)

Now obviously not every Vidyadhara is going to agree w/ this but it does bring up what the 2 sides in the quest truly seek; there is an irony to the reasoning behind both sides’ views against Bailu & Dan Feng/Heng respectively

In Bailu’s case, she is seen as “weak & useless” & the high elder should be someone strong and yet she has healing capabilities that make her extraordinary even among the Vidyadhara; Dan Feng was known to be a warrior but then he committed sins which involved tampering of life & immortality for which he was punished

Both are resented for something they lack or something bad they did but they are revered for the traits they do have

Bailu is revered for her healing abilities but resented for her lack of strength, Dan Feng was revered for being a strong warrior but resented for messing w/ life

I’d like to suggest that the quest presents Bailu & Imbibitor Lunae as 2 halves of a whole which make up the Path of Permanence, life (Bailu of abundance) & death (Imbibitor Lunae of destruction)

As Taoran stated, life is full of changes and those who understand the world & its laws can reach everlasting existence; life is full of cycles of life & death which Bailu & IL symbolize

Even more interesting is how well Bailu & IL get along with each other despite their differences & how others view them; they are a great duo to depict balance

At the end Bailu wonders why Dan Feng chose her as his successor & even though Dan Feng committed some crimes, part of me thinks that him choosing her makes sense if we look at it symbolically (after destruction comes life & it’ll repeat), it all comes back to life & death which is needed for balance & it’s this balance that makes up Permanence

So what about the other Vidyadhara? What they want is one or the other, representing imbalance which would contradict a bit of what Taoran stated was the meaning of the Permanence

Now this isn’t to say that Dan Feng was right about doing what he did or that they should get rid of Bailu, what I want to emphasize is that the Vidyadhara’s internal conflict beautifully depicts the question of what Long’s revelation about Permanence signifies for them

There isn’t truly one single correct answer; if we refer back to “Exodus of the Five Dragons” Penman Oppenheimer gives 3 possible answers that could answer that big question

The thing is not everybody is going to have the same answer

Some might agree w/ either of those that Oppenheimer suggested, others might have different answers, but that is just how life is

We often say that nothing lasts forever which is true but I think that some of the things that do last forever are life’s beauty & its complexities

[imperiuswrecked]

Has Namor ever reclaimed the McKenzie name? I remember he rejected it or something. Why everyone keeps using it?

The surface dwellers use his human name, Namor McKenzie or they call him The Sub-Mariner. He uses it too, but it's mostly on the surface world.

All New Invaders (2014) #10 - Prince Namor McKenzie

In the ocean and Atlantis Namor goes by many titles:

Prince Namor

Namor the First

The Avenging Son

The Sub-Mariner

Imperius Rex

Namor Fen-Son

Namor, Son of Fen

Son of Atlantis

Prince of the Blood

Prince of Atlantis

Prince Namor the First

Prince of Destiny

Scion of the Seas

Sea Lord

King Namor

King Namor the First

King of the Seas

Sea King

Phoenix King

Avenger of the Deep

Lord of the Seven Seas

Sovereign Monarch of Atlantis

Lord of the Undersea World

Emperor of the Deep

Supreme Commander of the Undersea Legions

As you see Names & Titles are important in Atlantean Society. A notable comic about his names: Namor, The Sub-Mariner (1990) #37 - Namor is called Namor McKenzie (the Atlanteans pronounce it Mak Kenzee) by Suma-Ket, the Ancient King of Atlantis. (He also has a few titles: Suma Ket, Prophet King of Ancient Atlantis, Lord of the Old Ones, The Dark King, The Devil-King).

Namor asserts he is "Namor, Son of Fen"

Suma-Ket once again calls him, Namor Mak-Kenzee after capturing Namor.

Namor shows his true strength and breaks free to fight Suma-Ket. Who is surprised because he thought Namor was weak (bc he's half human).

Namor once again asserts his princely birth and says he's the Annointed Avenging Son (because his mother named him Namor which means "Avenging Son" in Atlantean)

When Namor's true strength/power is shown Suma-Ket calls him, Fen-Son. Acknowledging his legitimacy.

So Namor has always gone by his father's (Captain Leonard McKenzie) last name but he was raised by his mother, Princess Fen, alone and views himself more closely tied to his mother and Atlantis. Do he is Namor Fen-Son, much like how Fen is called Daughter of Tha-Korr or Andromeda is called Andromeda Attumasen (Her father is Attuma)

I love Fen's other titles too

Princess Fen

Princess of the Blood

Beautiful Goddess of the Seals

Queen of Sharks

Empress Fen

As I was writing this out I recalled another time where his name came into question and I think this must be what you were asking about:

In The Order (2007) #7 Namor renounced the name McKenzie.

In my opinion people shouldn't read too much into this comic because it's clear the writer set up Namor to be used for the main character's plot of being the new guy who has to handle high profile situations.

Namor rarely, if ever lies, in 90% of his comics, he's one of the most honest and brutally in your face about speaking the truth characters in comics. The other 10% percent is when writers don't know his character. lol.

It's clear in this comic that Namor is angry because his people have no home again and he wants to embrass Tony Stark (due to the events of Namor (2007) limited series) and he wishes to become a political prisoner to further his plans to help the Atlanteans (it makes no sense to me at all plus at this time Namor was living in Latveria with Doctor Doom, this comic just ignores that I guess) and he is being difficult on purpose (more than his usual difficult self, lol) and rejects his human name even lying about the events of his mother and father's meeting. The main character calls Namor out for the lies and ends up saving the day.

So while I do enjoy Namor being abrasive mostly this comic just doesn't fit with the rest of his character history but I understand that sometimes writers do things for the sake of the plot.

So I guess to wrap up your question: Namor never actually rejects the McKenzie name (really The Order is the only time I remember this happening), however he views himself more as his mother's son, and a Son of Atlantis, than he does as his father's son. He does acknowledge his father and that he is his father's son but it's not as important to his character as his mother is.

Everyone uses McKenzie because it's his name and I guess it's shorter than his many titles. lol. People call him Namor or The Sub-Mariner more often. Honestly I only see his last human name used sparingly in all the hundreds of comics he has.

Namor's struggle with his human/atlantean parentage is always interesting to read about.

[wonder-worker]

Ælfthryth must have been very much aware of her vulnerability in the case that Edgar died. She had arrived at a court where there was already a male heir to the throne and from which two consorts had already been expelled. In ensuring that her legitimacy and that of her son was publicly declared, Ælfthryth may well have been planning for a future without Edgar. After all, none of the West Saxon kings were especially long-lived.

Observing the patterns of Ælfthryth's charter witnessing, it is notable that no authentic charter gives her the title regina until 968. Whatever moves were being made to distinguish her from other queen consorts, in her early years in the role this was limited to public acknowledgement of her as the king’s wife. Ælfthryth witnessed only one other legitimate charter in 966 in which she appears as fifth witness with the title coniunx regis (wife of the king) (S739). Edmund does not appear, perhaps this charter was issued before his birth, but Edward subscribes as second witness where he is designated as clito, his father’s heir. Ælfthryth, named as Edgar’s ambilis coniunx (beloved wife), is also given another estate by Edgar this year, this time in Dorset near her family’s powerbase. Ælfthryth appears in no charters in 967.

Not only does Ælfthryth begin to attest charters as regina from 968, but she also starts to appear more regularly in administrative documents, if not in a more prominent position. She witnessed ten authentic charters from this year through to Edgar’s death in 975 and appears in the corpus of several others. The question is, what changed in 968? There are likely several factors at play. In the first instance, Ælfthryth had given birth to a second son, Æthelred, around this time. The birth of another heir prompted Edgar to further augment his wife’s status. However, the idea to designate Ælfthryth as regina was unlikely to have been his alone. By this stage, Ælfthryth's key allies held prominent positions at court. Æthelwold appears first among the bishops of the realm in charter witness lists, while Ælfhere and Ælfheah are usually at or near the head of the list of witnessing secular lords. This trio may have advocated for Ælfthryth to be styled as regina in the hope that she in turn would be better positioned to advocate for their interests at the court. Finally, it is important to recall that any such political manoeuvres were taking place against the backdrop of the tenth-century Church reforms of which Edgar was an enthusiastic supporter. Sacral kingship was one of the key ideas being promoted by the reformers and, as evidenced by the Regularis Concordia issued only two years later, Æthelwold, in particular, envisaged that a queen would stand at the king’s side and share in his duties to the Church. It may then represent the year in which Æthelwold’s theory was put into practice, though it is probably a combination of these factors that saw Ælfthryth formally adopt the title of queen in that year.

-Matthew Firth, Early English Queens, 850-1000: Potestas Reginae

[bonefall]

Do you think Onestar would go so far to give Crowfeather a dishonor title for the month he's exiled post-secret reveal? Or would that be too far considering how Crow is blessed by the stars?

I think it's a bit too much. It's usually exile or Dishonor Title, both of them is a very severe punishment.

After all, the punishment is living alone. None of their friends or family, catching all of their own food, just them and their own thoughts. The Dishonor Title is for the Clan to remind them of what they did, while living within it.

Exile + Dishonor Title is the sort of thing that would be done to Darkstripe. I'm thinking about Firestar hitting him with the name, "Belladonnaheart," "Poisonheart," or just "Nightshade" in the translation, for poisoning Sorrelkit.

Not sure which one yet, but in any case, Tigerstar refuses to acknowledge it. He challenges ThunderClan's judgement, and Firestar's legitimacy in this way.

Functionally, a Dishonor Title + Exile is meant to warn other Clans about what they have done. It would have been 100% appropriate for Tigerclaw, but I think Bluestar was so shaken she just wanted him OUT of her sight. Her first lapse of judgement in the beginning of her decline.

[jeanjauthor]

I want to write a fic for my aunt that’s basically the royal family finding out about Charles and Diana’s daughter (Prince Phillip had her secretly adopted by her now deceased parents but now there’s been a whistleblower. She didn’t know) so If princess Diana was pregnant (by King Charles) before she passed and the daughter delivered but was sent away without Charles knowing only to be revealed now. Would said daughter be entitled to the inheritance Prince Harry and Prince William got finically when younger plus the Jewellery their wife’s got? Or would they not give it.

That's an interesting Alternate Universe / Alternate History idea!

Of course, if it were set in this world, iirc (not a UK lawyer/solicitor/barrister type)...in the UK, illegitimate children cannot inherit directly unless all the most rightful legitimate heirs are deceased or in some other way legally cut out of the inheritance list.

In noble & royal families, certain things are "entailed" which basically is a handy one word statement that meants "this inheritance is attached to the noble/royal title and cannot be separated from whoever by law gets that title."

This can include both funds and jewelry. Now, King Chuck's family would obviously have a lot of entailed stuff in it. Diana was Lady Diana Spencer (also nobility in her own bloodline), so there may be entailed stuff in that situation.

The reason why I mention illegitimate is because these rules overlap with unacknowledged children, and the rules of royalty can get pretty sticky when it comes to royals acknowledging their own child AS their own child. On top of that, if someone was going to get pissy about it *coughcamillacough*, they could argue that children born out of wedlock included children who are born after their parents got divorced.

If the child were acknowledged by the person holding the title of interest, then there might be some entailed inheritances. And by law, at that point "annual incomes" and "family jewelry" might then come into the daughter's possession, since in a lot of European families, entailed jewelry and/or dowries have historically been a thing. In the case of the entailed jewelry, she would only get to wear it for as long as she remained within the family; if she gets kicked out or storms out officially/legally, nope, it goes back to the vaults of the original bloodline--pawning entailed jewelry is very much seen as a no-no, for example.

But that covers entailed or "goes with the title" stuff. If it's regular funds & regular (non-entailed) jewelry? If it is mentioned in the will. Such as by the phrase "to be divided equally among my children," but without naming them individually. Those children would probably then have to cough up a portion of their own inheritances that would equal the missing share, etc.

If it's regular inheritance stuff, and it's not mentioned in a will, even in an indirect phrasing like the example above...that kid gets nothing.

Again, I am not a lawyer in the UK, let alone one specializing in inheritance laws. But these are things that are generally how it works.

In this universe.

If you want to write one where inheritance laws work a little bit differently, go for it!

However, you might want to clue in your readers that the story is most definitely in Another Version of Earth. Maybe the inheritance laws are based on DNA, regardless of legitimacy? Maybe there was a secret will? Or even just clauses in a will that were withheld and not available to everyone after Diana's passing? Maybe the truth wasn't to be revealed until The Other Woman *coughcamillacough* passed away, to ensure that The Other Woman couldn't harm any daughters (who would have more right to wear certain jewelry than her, even if not the right to wear all the jewelry instead of her).

...Or maybe you just have "Ye olde timey London dinosaur cabbies" walking around in the background, driving carriages with tour business banners attached to the spine-plates of the stegosauruses plodding their way through Trafalgar Square.

I dunno! You do you. It's your story.

[thedudleywomen]

ON THIS DAY - 26 December 1605

On This Day (26 Dec) in 1605, Penelope Devereux and Charles Blount, 1st Earl of Devonshire, 'married' in a clandestine ceremony held at the Earl's Essex home of Wanstead Hall.

Penelope Devereux had been married to Robert Rich, 3rd Baron Rich since Jan 1581, shortly before her 18th birthday. Despite this unhappy and incompatible marriage, the couple produced four children that survived to adulthood, including an heir, Robert (later 2nd Earl of Warwick), and 'a spare', Henry (later 1st Earl of Holland).

Penelope and Charles appear to have began their 16 year long affair in the final months of 1590. There was previous acquaintance with the family, with Charles having fought at the Battle of Zutphen in 1586, alongside Penelope's cousin by marriage and likely one-time paramour, Sir Philip Sidney. The couple made great efforts to keep their relationship private - they lived separately and did not mention each other in correspondence - with Penelope continuing to portray herself as a loving and obedient wife, whilst spending time with Charles at his and mutual acquaintances's homes, including Wanstead and Essex House. Six children were conceived from this affair, born between 1592 and 1606, of which Charles claimed paternity.

In Nov 1605, in the immediate aftermath of the failed Gunpowder Plot, a week-long hearing took place at London's ecclesiastical court, headed by Archbishop of Canterbury Richard Bancroft. Likely given Penelope's close proximity to the plot (as her brother-in-law, Henry Percy, 9th Earl of Northumberland had been arrested on suspicion of misprision), the timing of the hearing is significant; prior to this, it appears that her husband tolerated the affair and illegitimate children, given Penelope's good standing within the royal courts. Penelope was sued on the grounds of adultery, to which she confessed, providing all details of their years-long affair.

On 14 Nov, the court granted the divorce a mensa et thoro - authorising the legal separation, proclaiming that the spouses no longer needed to co-habit. However, the marriage was not legally dissolved, which would have required an act of parliament, and led to the illegitimacy of their children. Therefore, the couple were ordered to live in celibacy, with remarriage not permitted during the other's lifetime.

Despite this order, on 26 Dec, Penelope and Charles made the decision to undergo a secret marriage ceremony at Wanstead, performed by the Earl's private chaplain, William Laud (who himself would be nominated as Archbishop of Canterbury in 1633). When knowledge of their union became known to James I, Penelope born the brunt of his anger - he viewed her one of the 'dominant' and 'manipulative' women of whom he had expressed fear and paranoia throughout his reigns in Scotland and England. Whilst Charles remained as a strong source of support and diplomacy for James, including his participation in the trials of the Gunpowder Plotters in Jan 1606, Penelope was punished - she was removed from her role as lady of the Queen's bedchamber, and effectively banished from court, as her mother Lettice Knollys, Countess of Leicester, had been before her, following her secret marriage to Robert Dudley in 1578.

Their marriage, which had taken place in defiance of canon law, ensured that the union was illegal and invalid. As such, it was ruled that Penelope was not able to use the honorific title of 'Countess of Devonshire'. Also, despite Charles acknowledging paternity for Penelope's youngest children, multiple attempts to claim legitimacy for his children were unsuccessful, and on his death less than 4 months after their marriage in Apr 1606, no legal heir was identified.

[originalleftist]

Ways You Can Refer To The Man Being Inaugurated On Monday Other Than "President":

-45.

Pros: A popular one, this one acknowledges him as the 45th President, but not as the 47th (after his disqualification for insurrection).

Cons: A bit subtle, the point might go unnoticed.

-P01135809 (his prisoner number from his Georgia arrest/mugshot).

Pros: Reminds people that he is a felon, addresses him by one of the few titles (along with "defendant," and "convicted felon") that he has actually earned.

Cons: Again, may be a bit obscure to those who don't follow political news closely enough to get the reference.

-FOTUS (instead of POTUS). Ie, Felon of the United States.

Pros: Again, underscores his criminality, and replaces the title of "President". Also emphasizes the complicity of the country as a whole in being led by a criminal.

I have been using "Felon-Elect" instead of President-Elect during the transition period.

Cons: Same as above, if its not widely-used people might not get it.

AVOID name-calling based on body-shaming or medical conditions, ie "Dumpty," "Dementia Don," or other references to his age or infirmity or weight, wearing adult diapers/incontinence, etc. "Drumpf" is also likely best avoided, as it is IIRC his family's name before immigrating to the US long ago, and therefore may be taken as stigmatizing immigrants/his heritage.

These insults not only take the focus off of the most pertinent issues, ie his fascism and criminality and Constitutional illegitimacy to be President under the 14th Amendment section 3, but also use appearance, disability, physical or mental illness or other identities as as pejorative/punchline. Thus not only targeting him, but everyone with those conditions/identities. In fact, by focussing on those traits rather than his criminality and fascism, it applies that someone possessing those conditions or identities is somehow WORSE/more insulting than being a criminal and fascist.

(Now, I will admit that I've been known to do some of these in the past, in particular to make cracks about his dick and overcompensation for it, and while I do think there's a valid point about his insecurities and toxic masculinity, that's probably not the most effective way to do it, and these days I prefer to focus on his actual acts.)

I want to stress here that the point of not simply petty name-calling. The point is to refuse to recognize his legitimacy as President, to break the mental habit we are slipping into of normalizing a fascist dictator and Constitutionally disqualified insurrectionist.

[mariacallous]

The United States Department of Justice has failed to convince a group of US lawmakers that state and local police agencies aren't awarded federal grants to buy AI-based “policing” tools known to be inaccurate, if not prone to exacerbating biases long observed in US police forces.

Seven members of Congress wrote in a letter to the DOJ, first obtained by WIRED, that the information they pried loose from the agency had only served to inflame their concerns about the DOJ’s police grant program. Nothing in its responses so far, the lawmakers said, indicates the government has bothered to investigate whether departments awarded grants bought discriminatory policing software.

“We urge you to halt all Department of Justice grants for predictive policing systems until the DOJ can ensure that grant recipients will not use such systems in ways that have a discriminatory impact,” the letter reads. The Justice Department previously acknowledged that it had not kept track of whether police departments were using the funding, awarded under the Edward Byrne Memorial Justice Assistance Grant Program, to purchase so-called predictive policing tools.

Led by Senator Ron Wyden, a Democrat of Oregon, the lawmakers say the DOJ is required by law to “periodically review” whether grant recipients comply with Title VI of the nation’s Civil Rights Act. The DOJ is patently forbidden, they explain, from funding programs shown to discriminate on the basis of race, ethnicity, or national origin, whether that outcome is intentional or not.

Independent investigations in the press have found that popular “predictive” policing tools trained on historical crime data often replicate long-held biases, offering law enforcement, at best, a veneer of scientific legitimacy while perpetuating the over-policing of predominantly Black and Latino neighborhoods. An October headline from The Markup states bluntly: “Predictive Policing Software Terrible At Predicting Crimes.” The story recounts how researchers at the publication recently examined 23,631 police crime predictions—and found them accurate roughly 1 percent of the time.

“Predictive policing systems rely on historical data distorted by falsified crime reports and disproportionate arrests of people of color,” Wyden and the other lawmakers wrote, predicting—as many researchers have—that the technology serves only to create “dangerous” feedback loops. The statement notes that “biased predictions are used to justify disproportionate stops and arrests in minority neighborhoods,” further biasing statistics on where crimes occur.

Senators Jeffrey Merkley, Ed Markey, Alex Padilla, Peter Welch, and John Fetterman also cosigned the letter, as did Representative Yvette Clarke.

The lawmakers have requested that an upcoming presidential report on policing and artificial intelligence investigate the use of predictive policing tools in the US. “The report should assess the accuracy and precision of predictive policing models across protected classes, their interpretability, and their validity,” to include, they added, “any limits on assessing their risks posed by a lack of transparency from the companies developing them.”

Should the DOJ wish to continue funding the technology after this assessment, the lawmakers say, it should at least establish “evidence standards” to determine which predictive models are discriminatory—and then reject funding for all those that fail to live up to them.

[lemonhemlock]

Oh boy I think people who support Rhaenyra failed school in history and biology. I posted a comment on a post discussing a reason that makes it very obvious that Rhaenyra’s boys and illegitimate on a team Green supporter post properly tagged and everything to give my way of thinking and adding my opinion based on facts. So I said that the Valyrian looks are receive traits because if both parents have the genes it is the only coloring that the have silver hair purple eyes. I then pointed out that Elia who has dark coloring because she is dornish carries these genes because House Targaryen married into her family plus House Dayne who have purple hair and the occasional silver hair. So I said that is why Elia children have some looks not all of them Rhaenys had purple eyes but had the coloring of her mother Aegon look liked his dad because he got both genes from his parents. Then I explained why Jon Snow looked Stark in coloring was because these traits did not exist in the Stark line and over powered the receive traits of his father. I also explained that the Hightowers have these genes the silver hair appears from time to time because the carrier of a receive genes that both parents need. So I said Rhaenyra and Laenor have both of these receive genes therefore it is literally physical impossible for those kids to be Vaelyrons. The only way for those boys to have brown hair and eyes is if Rhaenyra sleep with someone else. Then the person told receive genes do not exist in Westeros that if the did why did the Baratheons have black hair and nothing else. Then my brain short circuited for a moment because I say did we all not take biology because black hair is a dominant trait they may have a receive gene in the hair but dominant traits mostly come out with parents with these traits. I mean you tell them logic and they say no it doesn’t exist because if they admit logic exist and that this is right then it means that Rhaenyra committed treason and that she is trying to steal a seat of power that is not hers by any right to give to her child because of her lies. It means admitting that Vaemond had the right to be angry at this to fight for his right to protect what belongs to him and the rest of his family by blood rights. Titles during medieval times go by birth order, legitimacy, and the sex they are born too. That means that boys come before girls those are the rules and laws at this time they must be born from both parents in this marriage not be a third party. Vaemond was mad that some boy who was not of his blood would take away from his family what was theirs by birth right. Rhaenyra’s sons are entitled to inherit nothing technical those boys shouldn’t even have dragons to ride because those are the rights for legitimate born Targaryens which the boys are not. The boys where never acknowledged has illegitimate and then legitimized by the king because if he did acknowledge this Rhaenyra would lose everything and he would be forced to punish her according to the laws of that time. Which means disinheriting her and her children the boys being sent to the wall her being sent to the silent sisters.

i mean just look at my previous post to see the level of media literacy. although this term has been thrown around so much as the du jour insult, including by people who absolutely lack media literacy, that it has almost become devoid of meaning. it's the blind leading the deaf at this point. team discourse has truly poisoned the ability of many to engage in genuine film critique of this show. i don't know how people got it in their heads that better quality storytelling somehow equals having everything spelled out for you.

arguing over the paternity of rhaenyra's children is similarly goofy, because there are many instances the show confirms it on screen, so why even bother having this conversation? harwin literally treats them as his own. he comes straight after rhaenyra comes back to her room to meet his son & laenor graciously gives him space. alicent japes on screen about how much joffrey is NOT laenor's. we are privy to the conversation between harwin and his father when it becomes apparent harwin IS the boys' father and lyonel knows about it. rhaenyra is shown wearing a WORRIED expression. why would she be worried if it were not true? she should have been indignant instead. rhaenyra and laenor talk 3(?) times on screen about their "arrangement". in the "driftmark" episode doesn't laenor even say with his own mouth that he loves those boys "like his own"? (haven't seen it in a while so i don't remember word for word but that's clearly the implication). jace literally asks rhaenyra if harwin is his father and she DOESN'T say no. there's no verbatim "luke, i am your father" reveal but there are a million context and dialogue clues. what the hell, man.

re: genetics. i mostly agree with what you said. no, i don't think people have a basic grasp of mendeleevian genetics; asoiaf & hotd made that evident. that being said, the genetics of trait inheritance like eye and hair colour are more complicated in real life, but the rule of recessive (light colour) and dominant genes (dark colour) hold true a lot of the times. so two parents with dark hair can only produces a fair-haired child only if they BOTH carry recessive genes for light hair etc.

for asoiaf i think grrm uses a mix of real life and fantasy genetics. so, on the one hand, you have whole houses which somehow maintain the same phenotype through centuries of history - something physically impossible irl. like how lannisters have light eyes and blonde hair no matter what, tullys have their signature red hair, baratheons their black hair etc. on the other hand, it's not exactly balls to the walls crazy either. you can say that on this planet there are certain physical traits that more frequently pop-up in certain regions, like how scandinavian people are often blonde or people of celtic origin present more often with red hair etc. it's fair to say grrm keeps it SOMEWHAT believable, like he doesn't write two blondes producing black-haired offspring or, worse, two white people having black-skinned children.

the reason i say he doesn't completely disregard real-life expected generic outcomes is because he himself resorts to this argument in the text to indicate the illegitimacy of rhaenyra's children and he presents characters in-universe having this exact train of thought => we can therefore deduce westerosi people have a reasonable expectation of how trait inheritance works in their own world from one generation to the next. and when they encounter something iffy, it rings alarm bells

anyway the point of asoiaf genetics is that you're not supposed to overthink it

lastly, rhaenyra's crimes are meddling with the line of succession by passing off her bastard childreb as true-born, endagering the inheritance laws of the realm and attempting inheritance fraud with house velaryon's titles and lands. according to how lenient her "judge" is and to how egregiously she pursued these goals, her punishment can vary from disinheritance to exile; silent sisters or death are extremely but also possible. aegon was well-within his rights to execute her for treason. if the strong boys also participated in their mother's plots, the wall or execution could have been possible.

if rhaenyra had admitted to having illegitimate children while they were still young, her father was still alive, no wars were fought yet and no harm done, then she could have got off with simply excluding the strong boys from the line of succession or, at the most, she would have lost her spot as officially-designated successor in favour of aegon, but her life could have been very comfortable and without political headaches.