#i will not vent on main i will not vent on main i will not vent on main i will not vent on main

[local-lesbrarian]

No, okay, I am gonna rant a little bit, because I've had so many arguments with people about what art is, and "high" art vs. "low" art, and Art with a capital A vs. lowercase, what counts as "literature." Most recently when I ran a book group I ran last year.

Something brought up in one of the books was this very thing, that only what is deemed "good" art, "high" art is worth doing. It takes place at a prestigious music school. The main character mainly wants to do piano covers of pop songs. The antagonist, one of her partners, is a True Artiste, writing original neoclassical music that seeks to plumb the depths of the human soul. And he keeps telling her she's wasting her talents. Her professors say the same thing. What she's doing isn't art.

And not to be overlooked here is the fact that Auteur Boyfriend here was a cis man and the MC was a trans woman, and how that plays into whose art is valued, and how he devalued her art as a means of controlling her as a person.

But anyway, someone at the book club, an older woman who said she was one of the first MFA grads from the nearby university, staunchly and simply believed there is art that is Art, and art that is not actually art. And she brought up as examples the kinds of things Herzog is talking about here. My friend/coworker and I both just wanted to scream at her, "All art is art! It's all human experience, you condescending peahen!"

We didn't, of course. Although the two of us did go have drinks and vent to our social circle afterward.

Bottom line: Don't get so wrapped up in "the classics" or Literature with a capital L that you start thinking some art isn't art. There are some really deep holes you can fall into along that path, and the notion of "high art" is the brush hiding the pit.

Herzog was real for this

[venusbyline]

Aemond Targaryen — The Beloved Son

— summary: If Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader

— type: smut, dark

— word count: 4.9k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, DEAD DOVE: DO NO EAT, rough sex, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mommy kink, breeding kink, breast worship, nipple licking, nipple play, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, rough kissing, disturbed themes, age gap (older woman/younger man), Aemond is 19 and Reader is 29, biting, crying, pre-relationship, unhealthy relationships, referenced character death, Lucerys Velaryon mentioned, past underage sex, past child abuse, religious guilt and conflict, crisis of faith, blood licking, implied forced pregnancy, mommy issues, labor mentioned, implied Targtower Incest (mother/son) BUT NOT REALLY, implied Aemond Targaryen/Alicent Hightower BUT NOT REALLY, past Targcest (older sister/younger brother), past Aemond Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, referenced non-consensual somnophilia, referenced rape/non-con, referenced breastfeeding, referenced lactation kink, minor Helaegon, Aegon Targaryen mentioned, past Aemond Targaryen/Madam Sylvi, underage dubcon, minor Alicent Hightower/Criston Cole, curse words, mild angst, ambiguous/open ending, switch!Aemond, sub!reader, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: I decided to explore Aemond's "mommy issues" side. There's no real incest between Aemond and Alicent, but I put it as a trigger warning because there are scenes about them that can be uncomfortable to read. And also because I see their mother and son relationship too complex and intense. In my opinion, Aemond had an adoration and love for his mother in the season one that the writers left aside during the season two.

— author's notes²: Furthermore, I believe that Aemond's loss of virginity with Madam Sylvi may also influenced a part of his weird behaviour. So this time I wrote about the consequences of this in Aemond's mind, even a few years later. I see what happened with him in the books/show as a real child abuse, so don't read this fic if you've triggers with these themes. I do not support any form of abuse, this is just fiction.

— crossposting: AO3

❥ about me • Aemond masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

Aemond needed to vent. He needed some time away from all the chaos that must have been in the Red Keep since he confessed to killing Lucerys. Some time away from all the chaos he caused.

He remembered everything quite accurately. How he arrived at the castle with wide eyes and his body drenched, entering his mother's chambers without even knocking on the door. Alicent had let out a loud scream at the sudden appearance and covered her slim body with the white bedsheets. Despite there being no one there with her, his mother's body was sweaty and her cheeks were flushed, as if she had cum just a few minutes ago. At first he ignored the strange sight and muttered, with his voice trembling and weak, that he had become a kinslayer.

He remembered explaining confusingly how he was trying to scare Lucerys and ended up losing control of Vhagar, causing the old dragon to chew every bit of his nephew, only some remains of his tiny dragon falling from the sky.

He remembered Alicent widening her eyes, still covering her small breasts and telling Aemond to wait for her outside the room.

As much as he wanted to leave the place and wait for her in the hallway like the good son he had always been, Aemond nodded and left. Not just her chambers, but also the castle. He looked for any clothing that did not look so expensive as to give away his noble origins, and wore it along with a dark suit. He passed by Ser Criston Cole on the way out of the Red Keep, ignoring the fact that the guard's armor was not orderly as usual, and said something about needing to get some air away from there. Aemond did not wait for a response from the older man, knowing that it was only a matter of a few minutes for Alicent to look for Criston and tell him what her beloved boy had done.

Aemond was lost. He knew that.

As soon as Aemond entered the brothel, he looked everywhere for Madam Sylvi, his sweaty and trembling hands searching for the only woman who could perhaps help him.

When he was chasing Aegon together with Ser Criston to take him by force to his own coronation, he did not expect to be reunited with the prostitute who had taken his virginity. Aemond had an excellent memory and remembered that night very well, every second of that embarrassing moment. If he tried harder, Aemond could even feel Madam Sylvi's full lips around his still developing cock, or the way she lifted his wine-flushed face to her large breasts. Aegon demanded that she not be too soft with his younger brother, saying that a thirteen years old should already be brave enough to handle a little sexual intensity. However, the woman respected Aemond's nervousness and guided him calmly.

That night had not been so bad at all, even if he had not wanted it. He never returned to any brothel, his mother's disgusted reaction to Aegon's impulsive and selfish decision and her plea to Aemond not indulge in such promiscuity made him give up on going there again. He should do as she asked, marry a pretty noble lady and be a loyal husband, be Aegon's opposite.

He did not want to hurt his mother's feelings, he did not want her to look at him with the same look of disgust she gave her eldest son. He wanted to keep making Alicent proud, being her beloved son.

But Aemond had already failed with her the moment he decided to act like a spiteful boy and chase Lucerys through the skies. Now that he was a Kinslayer, his mother would fear him. She would be ashamed of him. I would see him as a murderer, cursing their whole family forever.

And if Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

Perhaps Madam Sylvi could do that. When she spoke to Aemond when he and Ser Criston were looking for Aegon, she made it clear that he had grown up so well. She looked surprised, perhaps even horny.

Now, after six years without visiting the place, Aemond was there again. The place where he had promised his dear mother in the name of the Seven that he would never set foot again.

He needed to seek affection from Sylvi or another whore who would make him feel as loved as Alicent made him feel before he grew up. He needed to feel worthy and loved by a mother again.

That was a busy night at the brothel for you, too many clients for too few prostitutes to deal with them. Madam Sylvi warned the women that she would take a day off to rest, a privilege that only the oldest and most renowned courtesans were entitled to. Most of her favorite clients seemed angry about this fact, and even though you and the other girls explained the reasons as calmly as possible, no one cared about what you had to say.

Some people just rolled their eyes and walked away, others snorted and threw coins at you so you could do her job then, and some were even excited about fucking a different cunt.

It was not unknown to you why Sylvi had so many customers who frequented the place in search of her. She was very experienced, a beautiful older woman, with large hips and big breasts. She understood how to please men and even women, both sexually and emotionally.

"Where is Madam Sylvi?" A deep voice caught your attention from behind your shoulder, making you jump and widen your eyes, sighing embarrassed when you saw that it was just a customer.

"She is not here today, sir." You forced a smile, trying not to look too much at the eye patch the boy wore. It was strangely familiar and he had facial features that seemed more handsome than most of the men you served, even if he wore a hood that shadowed his details.

With a frown, the man clenched his jaw and muttered one more time. "I need her tonight. Right now."

You recognized almost all of Sylvi's frequent men, and that one was completely unknown to you. You bit your tongue to try not to question him about why he was so desperate to see the woman if he had never been there recently. However, you took a deep breath and forced another smile, your voice sweet and hiding your curiosity. "My apologies, sir, she is not here tonight. But you can look for another courtesan if you want to, we have many options." You reassured and tried to walk past him to go find another man or some woman who could pay you a few coins, before being stopped by the man's hand on your arm, keeping you close to him.

"Well, you are free to please me." It was not a question. He already knew you did not have any customers waiting. You stared at that violet eye for a few seconds, before swallowing hard, your throat hurting while you nodded, having no choice whatsoever. "Then get an empty, private room for us immediately."

You opened your mouth to explain that the isolated places required a greater amount of gold than the common services, but the man interrupted you, handing you a heavy bag full of coins that were almost slipping out of the opening. "I assume you will make it worth the price, woman."

The moment you and Aemond entered the isolated room, he watched you pulling the curtains until they closed, keeping the events that would follow there a secret from other people. Although you still did not realize who he really was, there was an expression on your face indicating that you were suspicious about something. Perhaps it was the money he was willing to spend without complaining during just one night with someone who was not even the courtesan he was looking for, perhaps it was the eye patch that left a little part of his scar exposed, perhaps it was the extremely pale skin...

It could be many things that were making you suspect there was something unusual happening.

When the other prostitutes finished pouring some wine into two glasses and warming the place with candles, Aemond finally cleared his throat, almost as if he were embarrassed or did not know what to do.

"How old are you?" He asked in a more vulnerable voice than he intended, cursing himself for it.

Your brow furrowed at the rude question. There were men who sought out younger and less experienced whores to satisfy some dark desires, but you doubted that was the case. "Twenty-nine, sir."

Aemond sighed and nodded, satisfied with the answer. You might not be as old as Madam Sylvi or Alicent herself, but you were a maturer age than his. It made him less tense. "Good... That is good." He muttered, his single eye directed to the ground when some thoughts shuffled through his mind. A part of Aemond hated himself for having listened to his mother's advice to never set foot in a brothel again. Now, he was ten and nine and barely knew how to talk to a whore, while Aegon must have already fucked even the one he was about to try something on. "Has King Aegon II already enjoyed your services?"

His words caught you off guard, making you fidget with some discomfort, sitting on the mattresses around the floor, your robe tied and expecting anything other than that. "I cannot expose any of my clients' secrets, much less our King."

Aemond hummed without surprise, already expecting an empty answer like that. He took off the hood that shadowed the most part of his face, revealing his long silver hair tied with a not very effective ponytail and the violet eye that shone much brighter now without the dark fabric that made you unable to noticed the true color.

You did not have to be so smart to know the man in front of you was a Targaryen. A Targaryen prince. Perhaps...

"Aemond." His name dripped from your lips like the sweetest honey. "Aemond Targaryen."

The prince maintained his look of neutrality and almost disdain, nodding and then shrugging. "Or Aemond One-Eye, like some people call me. Your King Aegon is my older brother." Due to your lack of response and your wide eyes, Aemond sighed. "And I asked you a question about my brother. Are you going to answer it or not, woman?"

"He... He never fucked me, Your Grace. During the few times I saw him around here, he was either too much drunk or already busy with another courtesan."

That was good. Someone untouchable by Aegon. Not like his mother, who had given birth to Aegon three years before him, contaminating her precious womb with that bitter soul she one day carried, swearing that her firstborn would become an ambitious and noble-hearted boy, worthy to sit in the Iron Throne.

You also would not be like Madam Sylvi, who had already slept with Aegon several times even before his brother forced him to wet his cock inside her during his thirteenth name day.

You were... Pure. Not for the eyes of the world, which saw you as a mere whore, a hole for fun. You were pure for Aemond's eyes. You were untouchable by Aegon's filthy hands. You could be like a mother to Aemond. Hold him like Alicent had held him when he was a child, you could let him fuck you like Madam Sylvi had done when he was just a little boy...

You could be whatever Aemond asked you to be. His whore for some minutes but his mother afterwards. It will be a way to distract himself from what he had done to his nephew. A way to justify his impulsive actions that were about to declare war.

Aemond thought to himself if he should let it all out and just leave later on. That was what he planned to do with Madam Sylvi, even though she was attractive and hot.

Gods, he should not even be there, with the curtains closed and an older but kind woman waiting for him sitting on the mattress, your robe tied carelessly so you could seduce the customers who saw the smooth and transparent silk cloth covering just a little of your beautiful body. He should be with his mother, asking for forgiveness due the war he would cause, begging for the kisses on the forehead that she used to give him when he was younger.

Aemond should just turn around and leave. Leave and wait for Sylvi the next night.

Or rather, he should leave that dirty place forever and go to the Septa to seek forgiveness for his terrible behavior and quick promiscuous solutions.

Of course Aemond should do anything like this. And yet he did not. There was something interesting about being there, analyzing you as if you were fresh meat. Analyzing every detail like he did when he was buying some wooden toys for his nephews Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

He was analyzing everything with precision, and was enjoying every bit of that vision. "Tell me your name." He crossed his arms, none of his clothes other than his hood were off his body.

You bit the lip before whispering your name and repeating it later, along with your last name. The prince nodded, humming the name on his mouth to test the sound. Enjoying the result, Aemond gestured to your robe and you immediately obeyed his nonverbal demand, untying the knot and letting the thin fabric fall around the mattress, your bright eyes lifting so you could see how the Targaryen prince was reacting.

With flushed cheeks and arms crossed again, Aemond walked a little closer to you, steady and slow steps until he was face to face with you. His index finger lifted your chin with a calm that was the opposite of everything you were used to in the brothel. You even believed that he could treat you really well, unlike other rude customers. But your hope disappeared the moment he grabbed your cheeks, his short nails digging into your skin and forming tears in the corners of your eyes.

"I need... I guess I need to take my emotions out on something. On Someone."

You did not dare blink, muttering an agreement and not resisting when the prince pushed you to lie down. His body was warm, unlike his hands that was cold from sweat. You remained in the position Aemond had placed you in, lying beneath him with your legs spread to let him take control if he wished.

Aemond's heart beat fast, knowing this would be the second time he was about to fuck a woman. The second time he was going against the Faith of the Seven, against his mother's requests. Hurting the feelings of the woman he loved most and probably amusing his older brother, who should have been laughing and drinking, finding it funny that Aemond had not only killed his own nephew due some petty revenge, but was also now enjoying the pleasures he had always despised.

"Do you need help, Your Grace?" You worked up the courage to ask the prince as you noticed how his fingers were a pathetic mess, unable to undo the ties on his own pants after he freed himself from the tunic.

Aemond wanted to tell you to fuck off. To tell you to be quiet and let him fuck your cunt until it is dripping with his seed. Until you are pregnant with a silver-haired bastard. He wanted to humiliate you like Aegon did to all whores.

But for the Seven Gods' sakes... He did not want to be like Aegon anymore.

"I do not know!" Aemond shouted, breaking the silence of the private room. He stopped trying to get rid of his clothes and turned his body to the other side. His heart felt like it was about to explode, his hands were trembling again and his legs were weak. Aemond's head ached like the Seven Hells and he had not drunk any drop of wine that the other courtesans had left there for the two of you. "Gods! I thought this would help me, but I can barely get my fucking cock out!"

Your body moved closer to his, pressing your face against Aemond's warm and bare back. His breathing became more erratic when you remained quiet, but brushed the tip of your nose against his skin as if you were a kitten.

Aemond opened his mouth to scold you for your childish action, and then closed it. There was something different about your silent actions. You did not judge him for being there, you did not mock him when he failed to drop his pants and fuck you fast like any man in their right minds would do. Aemond was far from a sane man and it did not take long for you to notice that.

Even though he was fully aware that you might change your mind about him when you learned the truth of what he had done to his own half-sister's son, Aemond let out a sigh of relief. Neither of you moved the bodies, feeling something good from that whole complex situation.

Then Aemond turned to you, his eye filled with tears that he cursed himself for letting escape. His palm went to your chin, holding it softer than he had done before. It was gentle and almost delicate now. Everything he liked to be for his mother. A good boy. A good son.

The prince looked down at your naked body, your breasts so inviting to him that he did not think twice and immediately touched them, squeezing the soft flesh with an inexperience that was cute to you. Aemond only felt the smoothness of a female chest three times during his entire life.

One of them was when he was just four years old and he was jealous of his mother breastfeeding his youngest brother Daeron after his birth. So he touched Alicent and asked for her milk too, which was denied and he spent hours crying until he got distracted by some wooden toy that which the maids brought at Alicent's request, to entertain the greedy little boy as quickly as they could. After that, Daeron began to be fed by a wet nurse and Aemond never noticed his mother's breast milk again.

The second time was when Helaena was pregnant with the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys. Aemond was still an innocent twelve years old boy and was very curious seeing how the girl's breasts were suddenly bigger due to the breast milk. His youthful curiosity got the better of him and he took advantage of the fact that his older sister always let him sleep next to her when Aegon was busy fucking whores in the brothels. He snuggled into a hug with Helaena as she slept and pulled the neckline of her nightgown aside, playing with his thumbs on her nipples until they were leaking white and sweet drops.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Aegon arrived drunk just as he was sucking Helaena's nipples, being breastfed like a baby. Aegon laughed loud at the scene. Aemond's cute lips were so wet with his sister's milk and his face was reddish like a strawberry, body shaking as he explained himself in the least convincing way possible. But fortunately for Aemond, Helaena did not wake up and probably never found out about his immoral act. Or at least he preferred to believe that she never found out about that.

Despite having begged for forgiveness at the Septa so many times, Aemond was dragged against his own will by his older brother to a brothel to celebrate his thirteenth name day. He did not want none of that and he was angry with Aegon, but also scared of the whole situation that would develop, even if a part of him wondered if this was some divine punishment he deserved for taking advantage of his dear sister's innocence during her sleep.

The night of the loss of his virginity had been the third and until then the last time that Aemond touched any intimate part of a female body, his young and plump face buried in the middle of Madam Sylvi's large chest.

He had promised to the Gods that he would only do something like that again with his future wife. But here he was, thumbs rolling your hard beaks and making you gasp. Aemond may not have been sexually experienced like his brother Aegon, and not like his uncle Daemon or his sluttly half-sister Rhaenyra, but he was a quick learner with a good memory.

He remembered Madam Sylvi encouraging him to pay a special attention to her nipples using his mouth, and Aemond was eager to follow that old lesson. Wrapping one of your beaks with his lips, Aemond licked you like a hungry man, his tongue swirling around it and then nibbling.

Every muffled moan that left your lips was like music to the Prince's ears.

Once your breasts were completely soaked with Aemond's spit and red marks from the bites he gave you, Aemond smirked satisfied, the desperation that was taking over his mind disappearing and giving space to the lust building up inside his veins.

He spread your legs like he watched Aegon do with the maids when they were both younger, smirking at the view of your wet cunt, the pubic hair glistening with your own juices. "Fuck, you are really dripping. I thought you whores got paid to pretend, not to actually enjoy it."

You moaned at his mockery. In fact, you did not usually feel pleasure with your customers, even the most frequent ones who were not rough to you. They always focused on themselves, not really caring if what you were feeling was pleasurable or not.

But Aemond Targaryen was different. He was appreciating your body, hands on your breasts as if you were an anchor keeping him safe, face in front of your legs, excited to devour you and satisfy all his hunger.

Aemond Targaryen barely seemed to see you as a whore. He seemed to be seeing you as a woman he wanted to worship more than anything. Almost like a...

"Do you have children?"

The prince was full of random questions, and it was another one of the moments when he crossed an unusual line. Why the hells was this important? Was he some boring man who wanted to have sex just with not so experienced whores? Was he disgusted by pregnancies?

"I do. I have... two kids."

The words was almost impossible to hear. Anyone would tell you to repeat what you said. Anyone could be angry due the answer. Anyone but Aemond Targaryen. The prince's keen hearing caught your words perfectly, a smirk of relief and excitement pulling at his lips.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect to be true.

It did not matter where your children were now. It did not matter if they might be suffering from having a mother working in a brothel to be able to feed them with the bare minimum. All that mattered to Aemond at that moment was that you had two children. Just like Alicent had Aegon and Helaena before he was born.

He could pictured himself coming out of his mother's womb. She always said that Aemond was the most painful birth of all, as the boy came out of her womb with such eagerness that the midwives swore it almost caused a hemorrhage inside Alicent's cunt. While Aegon's birth had been traumatizing due to the fact that it was Alicent's first time going through that labor experience, Helaena's birth was soft. The little girl was born so silent that for a few seconds the Queen feared she had been born dead, but Helaena cried when Alicent began to sob, as if she was feeling her mother's emotional pain.

Aemond remembered how his mother described the birth of each of them, even Daeron, who was the fastest of all to be born. And one thing Aemond would never forget was how his mother described his birth.

Alicent said it was like giving birth to a dragon. She felt like she was being ripped from the inside out and for a moment she could swear that little Aemond enjoyed hearing her screams of pain while the midwives were desperate to help stop the bleeding. She said he stopped crying immediately, the sounds of her suffering calmed him.

If he came out of Alicent's body like a dragon whelp, then he would come into yours with all the Targaryen fire inside his veins too. The true perfect replacement for her mother could handle anything. Perhaps he could really trust you to vent and look for affection if you also saw him as your and Alicent's third children. The most devout and the most feared. He could be that for both of you.

Six years ago, Aemond had no awareness about how to please a woman. He was sure that Sylvi had pretended to cum so that he would not feel so humiliated, not that it mattered anyway, since Aemond had not lost his virginity by choice and Madam was already used to faking pleasure reactions for the vast majority of men who visited her brothel. However, there with you, after not knowing how to deal with the chaos tormenting his own mind, Aemond allowed himself to lower his head and get between your legs, rubbing his tongue on the swollen bud that he knew what it was based on what it was written in the forbidden books of the library in the castle.

At first, the movements of his tongue were disorganized and uncomfortable, and you tried to guide his head, but Aemond bit your thigh, drawing some blood from you and hearing you cry out. Aemond did not care about any of that, licking up the red drops that dripped down and going back to licking your clit, taking a little more care than before, understanding that he had done something wrong. He made his tongue less pointy and flattened it better, rubbing it against your cunt and giving gentle licks, eating out the juices that dripped from your wet hole and then moving it up to focus on your clit, trembling moans escaping you while you rolled the eyes at the sensation.

Your thighs trembled and your back arched upward, forcing Aemond to grip your legs to keep your body down, the wet sucking noises buzzing in his ear when you had the first release.

Aemond did not wait you to recover yourself from your high. He kept your legs open with one of his large hands, the other undoing the ties of his pants more quickly than during the first attempt, throwing them to the side and caressing his hard cock. You looked at his muscular torso and looked down at his long legs and the dark hair on his groin.

You did not even need to entertain him with false praises or get him drunk with the wine the other prostitutes prepared for the two of you. Aemond was ready for it and ignoring his own nervousness.

He spat into his palm, pressing his arousal one last time and finally slamming into you, the abrupt stretch hurting your cunt, lips parted and eyes widening when Aemond ignored your brief pain and started moving his hips, letting out low guttural growls at the feeling of your tight warm walls crushing him.

"Your Grace..." You moaned in a mix of pleasure and discomfort, the thrusts hitting the soft part of your cervix and making you see stars.

Aemond smirked at your incoherent moans, lowering himself until his face was close to yours, capturing your mouth in an aggressive kiss, uncoordinated tongues together, teeth practically devouring each other's lower lip. The exchange of saliva tasted like blood and your own cum.

He had not felt the sensation of being inside a woman in so many years that the pleasure was almost like losing his virginity for a second time. It was intense, strange and desperate. He needed more. He needed to fuck you deep inside, until you were like Alicent, carrying a part of him in your womb.

The faster he got closer to his orgasm, the more Aemond's low growls became whispers begging the Gods for forgiveness and also tearful moans calling you his mother. Prayers and cries coming from a filthy sinner in search of redemption, or from an innocent little boy who needed the love of the woman who gave birth to him.

With each violent thrust inside your tight and sore cunt, Aemond pictured a little silver-haired boy coming out of you after nine moons and destroying you just like he had done to Alicent during his own childbirth.

Now that the only woman who ever loved him with her entire body and soul saw him as a monster, Aemond wished that future routine nights with you in the brothel could fill the void inside his heart. However, deep down Aemond knew that no one could ever love him more than the woman who brought him into the world. For Aemond, failing Alicent was worse than failing the Gods. And there was no divine or maternal forgiveness for a murderer.

[quibbs126]

Okay, I think I’m FINALLY done with these designs. Well okay, I said Megatron might need some reworking, but shush, I’ll do that another time

I was not expecting this to take as long as it did. Apparently I started making this at 9 in the morning, and it is now 9:30 at night. Optimus, I am almost certain this is your fault

Anyways, as mentioned prior, the idea here was to give the Earthspark Cybertronians protoform designs like the Terrans, what they might look like when they were in this stage, because I haven’t seen anything to claim Cybertronians in this series don’t also have this stage, unless I’m wrong

I mean theoretically, Cybertronian protoforms could look entirely different from Terran protoforms, but we don’t know at this juncture, so I used the Terrans as my main references

Pretty much the main thing was trying to turn their blocky features smooth, while also taking out a bunch of their little details, like their antenna and horns

Honestly I still think Elita turned out the best, which is maybe a bit sad considering she was the first one I finished, but oh well. I don’t think everyone else was horrible, but I think she just looks best

I think Bee’s design is fine, and it was honestly refreshing after struggling so much with Optimus, but I can’t help but feel like his eyes are still wonky

Like I’ve said, by the end of things I think Megatron came out the worst. He was the second one I did, so I wasn’t sure, but by now I think he is. The real struggle with him is that his entire helmet is comprised of angles, when I need curves. And then there’s his side things, which I still do not know how to translate here. The idea I was trying to go for here is the top half goes around his head, while the bottom half is attached at the ends, but it’s the bottom half that looks weird. But ah well, hopefully I can fix it later

And then there’s Optimus. The majority of the time I’ve spent on this was him. It was mostly the struggle of his vents and trying to make them un-blocky. It was getting really frustrating particularly because I couldn’t think of anything new to do with them to change them, drawing the same thing over and over

But then I remembered, this Optimus was once Orion Pax, a fact I was planning to omit. But that meant I had something else to draw on

And it’s what finally got my brain to make his side things into the curves you see now. It’s also why his middle thing is solid black, like how it seems to be in the picture above

But yeah, I wouldn’t rate his design as the absolute best, but it’s serviceable and I’ll take what I can get

But aside from trying to change their designs, I think I had fun. I noticed by the end of it that they all have different face and eye shapes, and that’s pretty fun

Speaking of which, I notice with this how small Optimus’ eyes are here. They may not look it in my drawing but they’re a lot smaller than the others in the show. Is that one of the reasons his design looks so off? Like I know it looks weird, I just can’t place how exactly

But yeah, take these designs, the culmination of my drawing abilities for the day. I’d like to do more with them, I just don’t know what. Best I can think of is like, a fic premise where the Cybertronians somehow get reverted back to these protoform stages, and the Terrans now have to help them out

[papagabu]

I was originally going to keep this to myself and just finish this later, but I decided I wanted to vent about this. I started this a couple of days ago and couldn't finish it because, for some reason, I can't figure out what to do with the Metal Emperor’s legs! like I like the design so far, but I can't do the legs for some reason. It’s so frustrating not being able to finish the design of my main villain because I can’t come up with a design for his legs.

Also, his little brother, Tails Doll, is there. Yes, little brother. I mentioned Metal Emperor having brothers before. He has two other robots he considers brothers, and that's Tails Doll (the youngest) and Mecha Sonic (the middle sibling). They're siblings in title alone; he doesn't particularly have a real familial bond with them, though he does like Tails Doll.

My AU's version of Tails Doll is heavily inspired by Archie's Tails Doll. But the backstory is that after Metal Emperor seized all of Eggman's assets, he found a prototype Tails Doll he gave sentience to and named his youngest brother. this Tails Doll later realizing how nonthreatening it was physically requested upgrades, transforming it into a shapeshifting monster made of nano-machines.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Building Bridges (Male!Reader x Jason Grace)

Any domestic headcannons for Jason Grace? Just general cute and romantic stuff when deeper into a relationship with the guy.

Percy likes to joke that Jason's lucky there hasn't been a Pontifex since the times of ancient Rome, because he basically gets to assign himself his own duties and hours.

It's hard, having resigned the title of praetor and left behind the Legion. No one's really sure where Jason belongs, and after the rigidity of a legionnaire's life, it's unsettling, to say the least.

He ends up getting contacts a few years in after one too many times of losing his glasses on top of his head.

This relieves a lot of his stress, as repeatedly putting on and taking off his glasses tended to give him headaches.

He and Piper drift apart - mainly because they had chased the idea of being together so long that when it came to actually being together, they had no idea of what to do.

Besides, Piper still had to figure out how she felt about Hera's false memories of their relationship she still had, and trying to "get back there"

They remain friends and are in fact much better friends than they were partners. It was Piper that Jason came out to about his own bisexuality later on.

Jason takes his time with things, not rushing into dating because he feels like he has to or needs to fill a void. Instead he tries to learn who he is, establish a support system with Percy, Thalia, Frank, Annabeth, Hazel, and Nico.

He travels often for his duties as pontifex, seeking out gods and spirits to see how they would be honored.

In a lot of ways, he sort of gets to decide what the gods will become.

Since they depend so dearly on human perception of them, and will evolve accordingly, Jason can, by dictating their worship and temples, dictate the path they will follow.

So with a such a heavy and important duty as his main job, he really does like to clearly delineate between his life as pontifex and his time with family, friends, and loved ones.

Jason may not be particularly spontaneous or even exciting, but he is incredibly attentive and reliable.

Jason has worked so hard on his own mental health and well-being that he really does become a safe space for someone he loves.

He's a master at listening without judgment and allowing you to vent.

But he also has a mind like a steel trap, and he will remember things you like, things you want, and your habits.

Definitely the boyfriend who seems to read your mind, simply because he's so observant. He'll automatically have your preferred snacks and drinks in stock.

You'll also find little notes he writes to himself to remind himself of things, like "Pick up snax (for Y/N <3)

Or little lists of your favorite shows you've recommended he watch because otherwise he'll forget.

He lives in a small but really nice little house in New Rome, set up more like a large apartment than a house is.

Basically, it is ready for you to move into like, the moment you stay over the first time.

I think Jason becomes more fond of sturdy clothes as he gets older. Thicker jackets with long sleeves to hide his Legion brand, probably a cowboy hat or baseball cap to hold his longer hair out of his face.

I think he definitely gets hat hair a lot and finds it hilarious and cute when you notice it and ruffle it to get it out of that slicked back shape.

Jason might not always be good at it the first time, but he does like to plan dates and excursions. Organization and chores can be tough for him, but he also has some immense self-discipline.

And then he'll just have the most random moments where he'll act on an impulse without thinking and spend several moments visibly looking disappointed in himself.

Jason is highly physically affectionate, draping himself over you and often times nibbling at your neck or ear.

He also really likes to have you leaning against him or even in his lap, even if you two are doing different things.

It might be a reassurance thing, or a touch-starved thing.

As far as marriage goes, I don't think Jason would propose it but he'd absolutely say yes if proposed to. In New Rome, everyone already knows you two are a couple, and it's not like there are tax or legal benefits to worry about, so it's not something that crosses his mind.

He refers to you as his partner, or when feeling romantic, his "other half."

Jason is actually a really good cook, but he needs something to help him focus, or to keep him on track.

Jason is a snuggler, but ONLY when awake. When he sleeps, he seems to keep some space. Probably because he overheats quickly. Even under a blanket, this man always has a leg out or the blanket pushed down to his hips.

He likes to involve you in his day and thoughts but doesn't push you to do the same. Though he loves being included.

[cheshireliam]

vent ahead you have been warned

no like seriously i don't recommend you open this post if you're not a roger and/liam fan. but if you want to? rest assured it's not character hate (really).

i understand that the top 5 suitors will get special content because they're called promise events for reason aka the events were promised back in 2024 during elections, so i don't have anything against giving fans of those suitors what they're meant to get.

what makes me upset is ikevil's treatment of roger and liam for ranking #8 and #9 respectively. just because they don't have as many fans as other suitors like jude, does that mean their fans don't matter at all? can you imagine if your favourite suitor doesn't get a single featured event throughout the past more than 365 days? imagine seeing other players having something new to gush about every other event, while all you can do is stare at a poster for an upcoming event that doesn't feature your man. AGAIN.

there's a difference between treating some suitors better because they're popular vs straight up ignoring those who aren't. "c company" can give the top suitors however many events and gachas they want, it doesn't matter. but to exclude specifically the "bottom" two suitors from a LOGIN EVENT (that's completely unrelated to the upcoming promise event btw) is just too much. it's just chibis. just give roger and liam fans the fuckin' chibis. what's so hard about drawing another two tiny people? they only include roger and liam when it's paid content. how DARE they still try to milk us when they don't treat us properly at all.

top suitors' fans spent ungodly amounts of money on the game to support their fav, yes. but have roger and liam fans been spending absolutely $0 or something...? is our money worthless? we're consumers just like the rest of the playerbase. so they can't say it's not worth your time to make content for that two suitors.

@ a certain "c company" : roger and liam are characters that YOU created. i'm sure the artists and writers who worked hard to create them love these characters too, because they're also a fruit of their efforts. they exist and they have fans too. and mind you, they're main characters — not side characters or NPCs. if you think simply giving them a couple of lines in other suitors' events is enough, i'm telling you that it's not.

and then again, i must reinforce that i don't hate any of the other suitors and most definitely don't have anything against their fans. i'm genuinely happy for them that they always get new content, but i just think roger and liam fans deserve to feel that joy too. if you can read this entire post and still conclude that i hate the others suitors/their fans, then i suggest you improve your reading comprehension skills.

[ofcrowsanddragons]

The ALT POV of the Wigmaker Job from the WIP folder 🙏

WIP Folder Game

Dialogue by Courtney Woods, based on “The Wigmaker Job” by Courtney Woods, in Tevinter Nights.

Illario’s cousin never changed. He took job after job after job, rarely stopping for a rest. Their grandmother’s orders rang constantly through Lucanis’s mind, and Illario could barely predict the few times that Lucanis would choose his little rebellions against the First Talon. The only guarantee was that it would be inconvenient for Illario.

Said cousin had planned this job: an attack on a prominent Venatori at an event that was the highlight of Vyrantium's social season. Of course, Lucanis had rented the top floor of a terrible inn, from which Illario could hear terrible music rising from the floorboards above the terrible tavern. Lucanis now sat on a hard wooden block with his weapons arranged on the bed in front of him, adding to the screeching strings of the music below with the sound of sharpening stone against steel.

On the bright side, it was clean enough that pests getting into Illario’s luggage were only moderately likely. His favourite piece was also likely to have blood on it by the end of the evening, but for now he admired the craftsmanship in the Minrathous-inspired collar and the surrounding details. The stamped navy velvet was accented with black silk, and the fine gold embroidery tumbled across his shoulders in an explosion and faded into delicate stars that fell across his midsection. The layer below the main tunic was a shimmering gold that peeked from between vents in the fabric as he walked.

Lucanis wore black.

“You’re not wearing that, are you?” asked Illario, resigned. The leather coat over a black suit may have been inconspicuous at any other event, but even then it would make him look like a servant.

Illario hated having options closed to him during a job.

“At least I don’t look like a tourist,” said the other assassin, with the faintest trace of humour in his voice.

“No, you look like you’re attending a funeral.”

“Very funny,” said Lucanis, all traces of humour gone, returning to the state of natural killing machine that Illario could tell had been killing him for years. “It’s a job. Not a party.”

“Actually,” Illario corrected, carefully checking his rogueish facial hair had the desired effect. “It’s a job at a party. Might as well look our best.”

“Any excuse to primp.”

Illario snapped his straight razor shut, hating how Lucanis sometimes sounded like their grandmother. He knew what he was good at, he completed his contracts, and they both looked down on him for that. “I’m only here because of you,” he pointed out. “We should be halfway home by now. Only ‘the Great Lucanis Dellamorte’ could delay a summons from the First Talon herself.”

Shuffling from the other side of the room, visible in the mirror. “Catarina can hardly complain,” said Lucanis, oblivious to how anyone else would suffer for saying so. “She’s the one who beat me into my commitment to my contracts.”

And here they stood, the next generation. From the cradle to the grave in Catarina’s shadow.

“All that effort and training grooming us,” he mused, “And the old woman still won’t step aside.”

“Your time will come.”

Lucanis said it like it was fact. Lucanis had been saying it for years. Lucanis had been convincing, for the longest time.

“Will it?” Illario asked, meeting Lucanis’s eyes in the mirror and willing him to understand. “People talk. You’ve always been her favourite.” You’re the only one who can tell her no.

“My talents lie elsewhere,” Lucanis said, holding up a hand and turning it over to indicate the sword and half dozen-odd daggers, now newly-sharpened. “You’re the one with the silver tongue.”

Illario didn’t want to know.

Illario needed to know.

“So, if she named you heir to House Dellamorte,” asked Illario, “You’d refuse?”

Lucanis went still, and Illario felt a flash of anger at the delay. All Lucanis knew how to do was delay, and this wasn’t a topic they could cover at home.

“Lucanis?” he pressed.

Before Lucanis moved, Illario had already realized that this was the wrong kind of stillness. His cousin had moved into the wire-taut sensory mode of a predator that meant that somebody was about to die.

His own blood rose in response, and as Lucanis reached for his sword, Illario pulled a knife from his sleeve. Illario heard a creak from the hallway and Lucanis motioned to him.

Illario said something about the quality of the hotel and the food, and Lucanis quipped back, “You ordered an Antivan dish in Tevinter. What did you expect?” He’d barely grumbled something back by the time Lucanis silently reached the wall of their room and plunged his entire sword through it—and through the Venatori eavesdropping on the other side.

Well, Illario considered, Now that sword might actually need sharpening.

[i-liketoast]

Five's season four suit

I'm back with another analysis of one of Five's suits and this time we'll be looking at his season four one because again, I'm just a girl who likes suits and this was requested. Though I probably would've done this regardless if it was requested or not lmao.

Before I start there are some basic things that I want to mention. Once again, this is a three piece suit as it includes pants, a jacket and a waistcoat also by the single row of buttons down the jacket and waistcoat it's obvious it's single breasted. These are basic things that don't cost you to lose your sanity to figure out so let's get to those ones.

Starting off with his jacket. This was slightly harder to figure out then last time since a majority of the time Five wore a coat over the suit but I am so thankful for the deli with all the Fives and Grace's birthday. (rare moment I'm thankful for a six year olds birthday) In a certain reference I have you can see the jacket taper at his waist and pocket flaps which tells me it's a British cut suit. Once again I can't see a ticket pocket which in modern day you don't really see on British cut suits anyway so I'm not concerned about that. In terms of vents after rewinding the scene where they're eating in the first episode more times then I'd like to admit, I figured out it was a single vent. Overall it's the exact same as his suit jacket in season three, Five likes one kind of suit jacket and sticks with it apparently.

Next we have his waistcoat and this is where the deli scene and promotional material REALLY came in clutch. Things I want to note about waistcoats is that they're supposed to be form fitting but not tight and most have an adjustable strap in the back for a better fit. Sadly even though we did have the deli scene this was still super hard for me to figure out since, again, a majority of the time Five wore a coat. Still I got some information for y'all. In a screenshot of a promo vid I found on Pinterest you can see four buttons going down which isn't as funny as the five buttons but I'll take it. Now I'm not sure if the waistcoat is slim fit or a regular fit which for waistcoats are already quite slim so I'm going to say it's slim.

LASTLY THE BLOODY PANTS. If you've seen my other suit post you would know the pants were infuriating for me since I didn't have all that many scenes. But with a combination of promotional material and weirdly this season giving us more look at Five's legs (not in a weird way) this was kind of easy. If you look closely at his ankles you can see a considerably less amount of fabric bunching apposed to last season. Like I mentioned last time, this is called a break where the four types are full, half, quarter and no break. Here in season 4 there's still clearly a break in the pants but it's not as much and it's closer to that of a half break then a full break. Cut wise of the pants, I'll be honest, I'm not well versed in but since last time I've learnt of pleats in the pants which sit around the first two belt loops in the front. I'm quite sure there are non on Five's suit but honestly? cool thing I've since learnt.

Now that I'm done with the main points of the suit I also want to mention things like his tie, shirt and the wrist buttons since I forgot about them last time. Looking at his tie width and proportions in season 4 it's safe to assume that as apposed to last time where his tie was plain black and narrow width it's now a traditional width and has diagonal stripes though it's still black in colour. His collar, again, looks pretty much the same. A simple straight point button up (but button down) which with the tie now having a bit of a more complex pattern I think works great. Another thing I didn't mention last time was wrist buttons. Historically these were used to get the jacket on seeing as the wrist holes were smaller but nowadays are used to show how formal a suit is. The more buttons the more formal and our boy Five has four wrist buttons making it feel quite formal but the single vent I mentioned earlier brings down the formality a bit but which I think the contrast of that works GREAT.

Differences between the suit in season three and four are so small but if you love suits it honestly feels so obvious. The word count for this post is already so high so I'm just going to quickly name a few of the differences. In season three the waist coat had five buttons but in season four he had two, season three his tie was plain black and narrow but in season four it was black with stripes and was a traditional width, the break in his pants was decreased to a half break from a full break and for wrist buttons. Whilst in season four he has four buttons, I couldn't figure out how many he has in season three but I'm going to assume it's also four.

Like last time I also want to include some photo's I used in analysing, I used more along with skipping around season 4 (not properly re-watching) trying to find the jacket vents and waistcoat.

Lastly I want to say a HUGE thanks to two certain people from my last post. First @doktorfreud tysm for this request, I had a lot of fun looking back on my boy Five's suit and the differences between seasons three and four. To @donnalawliet I said I would tag you and I am, hope you enjoyed this analyses despite how it's so much more chaotic. Also to everyone that has interacted with my previous post, tysm, means so much to me since I wasn't sure anyone would even like these rants also the fact that four massive blogs liked my post feels surreal especially since two of them I personally love and follow.

Also something I sadly failed to mention in my last post that both in season 3 and 4 due to back then I didn't know as much about suits as I do now is that it's not just the waistcoat that's slim fit, it's the entire suit that is so to everyone, I apologise about that.

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

Some points regarding your tags and the other tags in the reblogs:

Annabeth wasn't abusive to Percy in regards to their relationship when she set him up. However, she was certainly cruel to him because she left him alone with 5 Ares kids who were all trained more than he was without telling him or preparing him. And she never apologises for this either.

At this point in time, neither Percy nor Annabeth knew that he had water powers. And Clarisse had an electric spear which she didn't hesitate to use on Percy, which would have severely injured him, so it was not a safe game at CHB.

They were next to a river. Percy didn't know that he was the son of Poseidon then and he could not use the river either. It's certain that Clarisse would have electrocuted him using her spear.

They were going to maim him. Again, not a safe game at a kids' camp.

The toilet incident was a fluke to both of them. Annabeth only found out that Percy was Poseidon's son because the water healed his wounds.

Regarding Solangelo-

I don't think that Will giving Nico nectar and ambrosia and healing Snickers bars is bad or breaks any oath. I don't think that Will bandaging Nico's wounds from fights and Capture the Flag breaks any code either. I mean, ideally speaking, another doctor could do all that if Will dated Nico (is Will seriously the only doctor at camp. Someone relieve that boy from all that work.)

My real problem lies in Will making medical decisions for Nico, because he's a teenage minor doctor. Adults should be doing this instead-Dionysus and Chiron both care for Nico as does Hades, who will take time out of his schedule to make these decisions for Nico.

As Nico's boyfriend, Will won't be able to see the situation objectively and may end up making bad decisions because his romantic love for Nico clouds his practical doctor's view. Would he be able to keep his hands steady if he knew that he had to save his boyfriend's life as opposed to another patient? He'd be scared shitless and that would affect both of them terribly.

Also-

Will said that no one had ostracized Nico when he was in fact excluded by the camp. And Will was angry and tired, ok, but we never get an apology scene for this either. Instead, Will just calls Nico dense.

Will performs surgeries and delivers babies. He's also the main medic of the camp and literally gives doctors' notes and orders. That's medical enough to mandate a lighter version of the Hippocratic Oath. It doesn't matter if he's not an official doctor-his medical affairs are medical enough for him to have to adhere to the ethics of doctor-patient relationships.

If Will tended to Nico when there were no other doctors, it would be fine, but he goes out of his way to give him medical orders that he demands should be followed, when the patient is under no obligation to follow the doctor's orders. He orders Nico to stay in the infirmary and also uses his position as a doctor to get Nico to sit at his cabin table, which is an abuse of authority.

Will has talked about Nico's mental issues to other people without Nico's consent and when Nico wasn't present there to share his feelings about Will talking about his issues with other people.

Will isn't a young child who doesn't know better. He's a sixteen year old who knows that he shouldn't do this. If he wanted to vent, then he could have written in a diary instead of telling people who would probably tell other people. He had no right to do what he did and this should have been talked about.

And he should know the Hippocratic Oath because he's the camp doctor, and he's still doing enough medical stuff to warrant him knowing it. He also studied medicine, so he should have been taught this oath.

Now, I'm NOT saying that Will Solace is a bad person. He's great. He's kind. He cares for his siblings and father. He even went into town to get clothes for his dad. He shows concern for Nico too and it's clear that he cares for him, even if their relationship is a little messed up He's a great guy at times.

It's just that he shouldn't be Nico's doctor and boyfriend at the same time.

@percabeth4life can explain this better. And in case you want to know what's so wrong with Nico dating a doctor who 'heals' him, then read this.

And I'm not anti Solangelo shippers. I get the appeal of it. In the end, it's a fictional ship, but it could definitely be handled better.

No hate to you. I just wanted to make some points. Feel free to debate with me.

Someone should stop me from going into the anti-solangelo, anti-percabeth and anti-chiron tags because the moment I go in there i'm gonna start several arguments.

[pussysidon]

Living with a disability, especially a progressive or dynamic one is so fucking stressful. I don't know whether I'll be able to do things I can do now in a couple of years or even a couple of months. Maybe today I'm up and dancing but tomorrow I can barely leave my bed. I'm already grieving the things I know I won't be able to do in the future and it's so, so so so hard. The worst part is that there's nothing you can do but try to enjoy life right now and hope you can keep doing what you love

[bluewolfangel01]

Mc: 😠

Demons: 😥

Luke: ... What's going on?

Solomon: Mc is upset at the brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos because they "didn't come home."

Mc: Correction, I'm upset at the brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos, EXPECT for Lucifer. Cause at least he comes home to me!!!

Lucifer: *standing with a smug look on his face*

Demons: But Mc 🥺

Mc: *turns back to them* I don't want to hear it. If yall don't want to come home that's fine, guess I'll just only ask for Lucifer from now on.

Demons: BUT MC!!! 😢

[your-local-granny]

okay before i forget. i've been trying to put my finger on why people saying phoenix and maya are 'sibling-coded' pisses me off so much and I think a big part of it is how important mia is to both their introduction and also the foundation of their relationship and how calling phoenix and maya 'siblings/sibling-coded' waters down all of their relationships

phoenix wishing that maya was mia is a very big part of maya's arc as well as a big sticking point in phoenix and maya's relationship. phoenix spends the majority of turnabout sisters wishing that 'the chief' was there and when maya fails to channel her he shows outward disappointment. this is something that maya obviously picks up on and internalizes as we see throughout the rest of the games. most notably maya shows remarkably little self-preservation, throwing herself at von Karma's taser and in contempt of court to help edgeworth (and by extent, phoenix). she openly admits to feeling useless when she can't channel mia and phoenix never refutes this out loud until he of course presents the bullet to her showing that she wasn't useless. phoenix is notably bad at expressing his thoughts/ and feelings so its honestly debatable whether this gets through to maya but thats neither here nor there

on the other side of it, maya wishes that phoenix would be the caring adult figure that she was missing for most of her life (and especially after mia dies) and phoenix does not do a great job of being that figure. he likes her sure, and they're good friends, but he's definitely not nurturing or sensitive whenever maya is in distress. at the end of turnabout sisters when mia tells maya to "take care of phoenix" for her, maya starts calling him nick (because that's what mia said phoenix's friend calls him) and their dynamic for the most part is solidified. maya is not able to find mia in phoenix and accepts him as his own person and a part of her life as a friend.

phoenix has a more complicated journey with viewing maya as her own person partially because of the whole spirit-channeling thing, and partially because maya is younger than both the chief and himself. phoenix is constantly looking to a mentor for guidance and feels out of his depth for most of the cases in the trilogy. he frequently wishes that mia could be there, and is shown to value maya's ideas less, or at the least question them more at face-value. nevertheless, by the second game phoenix relies on maya greatly as shown with how he copes (or fails to cope) with her absence in rfta and 2-4, and 3-5. phoenix views her as both an integral part of his life and support structure, but also views her as someone he has to put on a brave face for, much like pearls. maya is phoenix's young friend that he leans on and wishes to protect.

maya's love for her sister is a core theme that spans the entire trilogy and culminates in maya almost dying in 3-5. phoenix's love for mia is a constant driving force that pushes him past what he believed himself capable of, and encourages him to trust those who become those closest to him. phoenix and maya's relationship is colored by their own relationships to mia, and how they view each others relationship with mia. they both represent a part of her that they never knew as well as a part of her they can keep loving in her place after she is gone, but most importantly, neither of them will ever be mia. no one else can be maya's big sister and no one else can be phoenix's mentor. they meet each other as two strangers set adrift by the same lost mooring, and though they'll never be secure in the way they were before meeting each other, they have a friend to help keep themselves afloat.

[kuuttituutti]

makes you think

[chiliger]

You know he’s gonna get away with it.

[vodid]

zero's pressure

[raymurata]

Just scroll (or go ahead and block my #dav critical tag) if you don't wanna read me whining abt Bellara's Archive choice again, but I'm not done with the salt.

What bugs me isn't that the choice to destroy the archive exists, it's that the game frames it, through its UI (which is the closest thing we have to a nonbiased narrator in this medium), as equally weighted against the opposite choice.

If they had worded it like this:

"Free the archive (the knowledge will be lost)" x "Keep the archive (the knowledge will be kept)"

With no extra commentary, then that would be better. If you got to be openly racist against the Dalish or openly in favor of the Dalish, period. Just like in previous games.

Bellara says "(the archive would help us) get back what made us who we were," and "With it, we could be that again."

Which is funny because... People don't study history to return to the past. It's fine if Bellara is idealistic and saying whatever unrealistic, grandiose dreams she and Cyrian had, but the Dalish would never (could never) become like the ancient elves again. For starters there is a Veil now. So what it would in fact do is help them understand where they come from, what they've been through, and trace the changes in their culture.

Of course our modern historians and scientists have tried to reclaim lost technology, too. They've figured out how the Romans made their extra sturdy concrete, and scientists in Brazil have long been trying to replicate the extra fertile Terra Preta from indigenous peoples that lived in the Amazon basin, and several South American historians would love to know how exactly the Inca used the quipu as a writing system aside from counting tool, etc... And that's super cool!!! And maybe (but that's a big maybe) the Archive could give the Dalish a technological edge to carve a corner of the world for themselves without the constant struggle with Tevinter trying to enslave them or Andrastians trying to subjugate them.

But I personally don't think anyone's reading Aztec accounts of human sacrifices to replicate the same practices in modern cults, or that there is an army out there utilizing Roman decimation as a method of discipline. We're using different horrific methods of control now, lol.

But let's say a modern general does decide that the best way to punish a battalion for one man's insurgence is to force every group of ten soldiers to violently murder the 10th man.... Do you really think that the fault would lie with the historian who unearthed that information and put it on Wikipedia? Or the insane general that decided to do this? Would modern morality and laws allow for that punishment to be executed? Do you think that the existence of that article online is inherently dangerous and controversial, and that it should be taken down? Do you think this general would have been a good and non-violent general if he hadn't ever read about Decimation? Or is it clear to you that violence and ingenuity are both inherent to mortals as a whole and can't be so easily blamed on the spread of knowledge?

Because it's not clear to DAV. The game (not Bellara, not Varric) words it very unambiguously as a dichotomy: The only safe way to deal with this Archive is to destroy it. Keeping it is inherently dangerous because the knowledge could fall in "the wrong hands."

What Bellara says is "Cyrian is gone because of what that thing knew," and "what about the bad side, the other things we did?" and "We stole the dwarves' dreams."

Again, she gets to say whatever she wants because she's a character and she's an anxious, idealistic mess. Love her for it. I like that she feels guilt here too because she has been established (through her way of dealing with Cyrian's first death) as someone who takes the blame for mistakes she didn't even commit (She certainly isn't responsible for Solas' actions). She's someone who drives herself sick cooking up the most horrific scenarios in her mind, and she's so compassionate she can't stand the thought of being the one perpetrating violence against innocents. Her misplaced guilt and dread are the emotions that lead her to consider destroying the Archive.

But no matter how guilty a young german may feel about the holocaust, destroying knowledge about gas chambers is not what will prevent other genocides from happening around the world. Individual guilt is barely productive.

Furthermore, Corinne Bursche says that DAV gives you a choice between "destroying" or "sharing" elven knowledge, which is not how the game worded it. But the point still stands even if the Veil Jumpers, for some condescending plot reason, completely lost control of this knowledge, or were so flippant as to put everything on Thedas' wikipedia without curing it at all.

Let's accept, too, that the Archive contains knowledge of how to build something equivalent to nuclear weapons, which one could argue is in fact truly dangerous, but... Well. Do you think it's fair that the countries that have nuclear arsenals are some of the most vocal about the dangers of other countries ever developing their own?

Because that's what it feels like, to me, when the game calls elven knowledge dangerous without ever allowing you to question -- what about Tevinter rituals and magic? Tevinter's millennium of slavery, still in practice at present day? Should we destroy all their libraries too to keep the world safe from dangerous magics? Why do we only get to tell the Dalish, the nomad nations severely subjugated in present Thedas (If you ever played the previous games and have the context, at least, since this game that happens in Tevinter somehow manages to completely gloss over racism against elves as if it never existed) to destroy a one-of-a-kind, ancient trove of knowledge? And have it be framed as good and safe? As "moving forward"?

If you choose to free the archive, Rook says "The elves deserve the chance to chart their own course" to which Bellara answers "Right. Define ourselves by who we are, not who we were," but once again that writing just makes me question Bioware -- Do they not understand the point of history at all? Do they think indigenous peoples are monoliths stuck in the past if they choose to study the history they lost to colonialism? What purpose do they think that keeping that history and culture extinct serves? Who do they think it benefits?

If you step outside of what the game is telling you as fact and think for yourself, with the context of the other DA games in mind, do you still agree that it's inherently dangerous to keep the Archive? Do you still think these are equally morally weighted choices?

Or would you agree that DAV has to subtly convince you, out of character, that keeping this knowledge is inherently dangerous to make this dichotomy make sense?

Again. This wouldn't bug me if they just owned up to the fact your protagonist can, once again, genocide elves/their culture, just like in previous games. And scapegoat present elves too for the sins of their thousand-years-old tyrants, now suddenly returned (it would make so much sense for characters in the narrative to scapegoat the elves, and for us as heroes to fight against that. But no, they don't even go there except through Bellara's guilt.). It's just bizarre to have an elven historian guiltily agreeing with destroying the Archive and then telling us "The Evanuris broke us and kept us broken" without anyone, either Rook or her, ever mentioning a thousand years of Tevinter slavery and several centuries of Andrastian persecution and subjugation.

No. The Evanuris are the be-all and end-all of evil and everything bad that ever happened in Thedas, ever, can be traced back to them.