#but i disagree i am no seducer

[aq2003]

so true david

[brainrotbutobsessed]

Listen, I love Gale as much as the next person, but I fundamentally disagree with the idea that he "seduced a goddess". Heartbreaking as it is, that man was just told, "We are sleeping together now," and was like "yes, ma'am".

A man who compliments your musk and asks all the other companions, "Does Tav like me?" "Am I hot?" did not RIZZ a goddess into a relationship. I'm sorry that is just the reality.

[edenfenixblogs]

How do you know if you’re antisemitic?

Well, if a Jew telling you you’re antisemitic won’t make you believe it, here is a guide to help you figure it out yourself.

1. Do you think Jews, en masse, are ACTIVELY REPLACING/ATTEMPTING TO REPLACE some other group — especially a somehow more deserving group? (For example, White people, Black people, African people, Palestinians, Arabs, Muslims, indigenous people, etc.) Do you feel there are JUST TOO MANY JEWS IN A GIVEN LOCATION?

2. Do you think Jews are PRETENDING TO BE SOMETHING THAT THEY ARE NOT? (For example, White, PoC, “Real” Jews, Indigenous/Native, an Ethnic Minority, Devoted Citizens of [YOUR COUNTRY] etc.)?

3. Do you think Jews are CONTROLLING OR ATTEMPTING TO CONTROL SOME INTEGRAL ASPECT OF SOCIETY? (For example, the government, media, banks, business, medicine, etc.)

4. Do you think Jews that you criticize are UNIQUELY BLOODTHIRSTY OR GENOCIDAL — especially when hoping for personal achievement or cultural supremacy? (For example, trying to stage a global war so they can control the world; using/consuming blood of Christians and babies to do satanic rituals; sexually seducing non-Jews in order to contaminate bloodlines and erase other pre-existing identities; immigrating to a new location with the intention of murdering those who already exist there; desiring to murder Arabs, Muslims, or Palestinians in their homelands by means of genocide in order to control a region at the exclusion of other ethnicities, etc.)

5. Do you think Jews are APPROPRIATING A PRIVILEGE THAT THEY DO NOT DESERVE AND THAT DOES NOT BELONG TO THEM? (For example, freedom, wealth, power, whiteness, G-d’s favor, a safe home in the Levant, Arab land, colonial power, representation as a minority group, etc.)

6. Do you think Jews at large or the specific Jews you disagree with and who wield power in a way you disapprove of CAN BE COLLECTIVELY LABELED? (For example, might you call them slaves, vermin, insects, dirty, scheming, communists, fascists, Nazis, satanic, Zionists, scum, etc.)

IF YOU ANSWERED YES TO ANY OF THESE QUESTIONS YOU ARE AN ANTISEMITE. This is literally textbook antisemitism. If you answered, well yeah but only “the Jews in Israel” or “the ones who vote for Bibi” or the “ones who moved to my town/country/region” or if you saw something on one of the lists and think “well no fair! That one is actually true,” your exception isn’t exceptional. You haven’t found the one true bad thing that Jews ACTUALLY are. It’s not some conspiratorial propaganda to equate reasonable beliefs with hate. You’re just hateful. Some part of you hates Jews. And you have to confront what that part of you is and you have to destroy it if you want to engage in any conversations that impact Jewish welfare anywhere in the world.

One way to start deconstructing is to ask yourself “Why do I feel this way?” “From whom did I learn to think this way?” “Who in my life approves and supports me thinking this way?” “Am I comfortable telling a Jewish person I feel this way in person?” “How do I think a Jewish person will feel/What do I think a Jewish person will think if I tell them this?” “Do I care what they feel or think? Why or why not?” “How would I feel/what would I think if someone felt this way or thought this way about me or an identity I value deeply?”

[notafunkiller]

wait for hours

Summary: Bucky and you have a small fight about making him attend a business dinner on your one-year anniversary.

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x secretary!reader

Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), org@sm denial/edging, teasing, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.9K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I wrote this blurb based on @marvelouslizzie’s prompt: “You want me to put it in you, don't you?”

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You know he is mad. You could sense it right away at work and also in the car. But you don’t regret it, it had to be done.

“Why did you even bring me here if you aren’t gonna talk, James?”

Your head is spinning only from the way he’s pacing around.

He puffs. “You wanna talk now?”

“You are such a kid,” you say, sighing.

“I am the kid?”

You’re surprised by how high his tone is.

“Why are you so bothered? I did what I needed to help you.”

“I don’t care! You knew tonight is off limits. It was supposed to be about us!”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. You don’t want to fight. You never do when you disagree, and this is silly.

“We can do it another time. We both know how important this is, so why are you so mad?”

“Because this is our one-year anniversary and we always…”

You sigh, standing up. “He wouldn’t have waited, and I don’t care if you think: then his loss. This is your company! You need this investment.”

“You made this decision for me!”

“Good,” you snap. “Someone had to, I wasn’t going to let you waste a great opportunity just cause you are not in the mood for another business dinner.”

He steps toward you so fast you don’t even realize for a second. “Yeah, sorry I am not in the mood for a business dinner when I could be buried inside my girlfriend in our private jet as we fly to Europe.”

“Who said I wanted to go in the first place?” You look him in the eye, challenging him to answer you. You’re not gonna let him intimidate you. Not that he wanted that.

“Then I could have made you come on my tongue after dinner right here.”

You roll your eyes. “All you can think about is sex.”

“All I can think about is you, but you decided to-”

“To do the right thing.” You interrupt him immediately. He’s so stubborn sometimes!

Bucky sighs, bringing his hands to your cheeks. “Are you bored with me?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Are you drunk?” You ask despite knowing it’d be impossible. But how can he ask that?

“Are you bored of me, honey? Is this why you keep me a secret?”

“Bucky!”

“I wanted to make it official like what? A thousand times?”

You sigh, bringing your hands on top of his before leaving a kiss on one of his palms.

“I am not bored of you, Jamie. But work is work. He knows-”

“I want everyone to know!”

You understand, but at the same time there are more consequences to consider before making the decision to get public. “Know what? That you’re fucking me?”

Now this is a thing you regret saying. The expression he has on his face breaks your heart.

“That’s all you think this is?”

Oh, you fucked up! This is not what it is, and you know it. You both had been trying to fight it off, to ignore the tension for over a year. Until you just couldn’t anymore and gave in.

It was clearly more than sex from the start. He didn’t even try to seduce you, and you were only going out on dates for weeks. And if he wanted sex, why he’d make such an effort when you’re sure he can get a girlfriend or a one-night stand or even escort services. He didn’t try to buy you. But would the office understand?

“No, James.” You kiss his other palm, trying to show him how you actually feel. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“When would it be, then? Or would it ever be a good idea?”

He’s more than upset now, his chin is trembling and the way he keeps staring at you makes you want to cry.

Such a horrible situation…

“When I’ll change my job,” you murmur, stroking his cheeks. “This way, they wouldn’t call either of us names and your reputation would-”

“I don’t care about it, okay? About what they’d say about me, and I certainly wouldn’t let them talk shit about you. What you did for the company is amazing.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “I am your secretary, Bucky. My job is to please you and do the best to assure the company’s success.”

“Fucking bullshit!”

“Hey, it’s true. You know very well how people would talk about both of us, and rumors would spread, and sure, men would pat you on the back at first, but some might hate the scandal. And I would be treated like a...” You don’t want to finish your sentence; well aware he knows what you mean. “You cannot protect me from this no matter what you do. And you cannot ruin your company! Do you want to do this just for public claim?”

“I want to hold your hand so badly everywhere...” He sighs, moving his hands from your face to his own hair, pulling it a bit too harshly. “I want to be able to leave with you home and not make Sam wait for you on the parallel street.”

You know and you feel the same way. Sometimes you find yourself imagining how things would be if you gave in and just not care about it, but there’s about so much more than you. You know how important his partnerships are, how hard he actually worked. He might not be a billionaire, but he is very rich and affords many things. He pays everyone well, including you, as wrong as it might sound.

“I’m gonna think about it, okay? I love you so much!” You take a step closer, getting on your tiptoes so you can kiss him a little. “I am sorry for making you feel like this, you’re not my dirty secret. But I don’t regret saying yes to this meeting. You weren’t going to agree, and we both know this is really important. We can celebrate later or tomorrow night. We can go anywhere you want. Just know I love you.”

Bucky says nothing for a while, his face emotionless as he thinks about what you said.

“I love you, too. Now I want you to get your clothes off and get on the bed.”

You raise your eyebrows at the change in his attitude. What the fuck!

“What?”

“Don’t act as if you don’t want it. You were teasing me all morning. And during the breaks!”

You cannot even deny it because it’s true. Yesterday you were both too tired to even eat when you got home, let alone have sex, and you woke up really horny.

“Don’t you need to get ready?”

He smirks in that way that you hate so much, and you sigh.

“You got one minute, baby.”

You quickly take off your shirt and pants before unclasping the bra and placing it on the nearest bedside table. You let on your panties, eager to see him tear them off as you sit on the edge of the bed.

But he, surprisingly, doesn’t do that after he drops on his knees in front of you and spreading your legs.

You get on your elbows just to watch him. He smiles cheekily, happy with the extra attention you give him, as he hooks his finger around your underwear and moves it to the side, holding it there as he starts to lick your slit.

“Yesss!” You throw your head back, knowing how much you’re going to enjoy this.

He’s a little too slow compared to the usual, but it still feels good, especially when he brings his tongue to your entrance.

You manage to hold back for a while, not letting your hips move until you realize he doesn’t intend to change the pace. With your fingers through his hair and another hand grabbing the sheets, you try to get his tongue inside you faster. But he doesn’t want that either, so you pull his hair a bit harder out of frustration.

“If you want it slow, at least use that tongue on my clit.”

He snorts, amused and does what you told him without protesting. But instead of feeling better because he’s licking your clit, it’s even worse.

You both know that you hate when he’s doing it slowly, so that’s annoying you even more. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose.

You try to tilt your hips more, showing him he needs to hurry up, but he places his right hand on your tummy and pushes your back to the bed again.

“Come on, Bucky! What is this?”

He smiles against your clit and suddenly starts to lick faster. And faster. And faster.

“Yess, yess.”

You pictured him like this before you got together. You imagined countless of scenarios with him eating you out on his desk or on the couch in his office, in the car or in the meeting room. You did that so often it became a habit, but you didn’t expect it to be that good. And he’s somehow getting better every time. Even when he’s torturing you.

When he starts sucking on your clit, though? You feel on fire. You let out the loudest moan before grabbing his hair.

“Yes, sooo c-close. Gimmie a finger, Jamie.” His eyes are on you as you speak. “Please!”

He stops sucking just to breathe on your clit, making you shiver. “Now why would I do that?”

You open your eyes confused.

Does he mean he wants to fuck you?

You’d love that, truth be told, so you push him away a little and get on your ass on the bed. You immediately move your hands down, trying to find his bulge over his pants.

Yeah, you totally missed that.

“I guess foreplay is done. You can fuck me now.”

Bucky laughs. He laughs! Then he brings his hand to cover yours and helps you get a better feel of his cock. Fuck, he’s so hard!

“You want me to put it in you, don’t you?”

“I’m still close.” You whine, surprised by your own body reaction. “Just get inside me, okay?”

“Why would I do that, honey?”

You give him the most confused look ever. “W-what?”

“You’re not gonna come tonight. Or well, until I get back from my meeting. Not on my fingers, not on my mouth, and definitely not on my cock. “

The world is spinning around you. He’s not serious is he.

“Aww, what’s wrong? Who’s the one thinking only about sex now?”

“You’re joking, right?”

He cannot do this. He can’t...

“I should get ready for the meeting.” He tries to get up, but you grab his hand.

“Are you punishing me for doing the right thing for the company?”

He senses you are close to tears so he leans in to kiss your forehead. “No, baby, why would I punish you for that?”

“I don’t know...”

“Maybe this is for thinking our anniversary is not important for me” He cups your face. “But I promise tonight will be great.”

You can’t even say anything, squeezing your legs together, still turned on.

“No touching either. You don’t get to come until I come back, okay?”

You sigh, pouting. “I’ll try, daddy.”

Bucky bites his lip before he kisses you properly. “You won’t try, you will do it for daddy, okay?”

You nod, staring at his chest. “Can I help you clean?”

“As much as I’d love that, if we go in the shower together, I don’t think I’ll leave.”

Damn it... now you have to wait for hours.

[epiphyllous]

when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [1]

With your bleeding heart and altruistic bravery, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his best plan of action is to seduce you. All he has to do is not fall for you-- a feat easier said than done.

-or-

(Where were you ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he needed you? How dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

Word Count: ~10k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", a study in Astarion's romance route + added features, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, slight Lae'zel/Shadowheart, Wyll/Lae'zel, Halsin/Reader; may have some descriptors of my Tav but generally no specifics (let me have my brown eyes), NSFW contains Virgin!Reader, trauma related to Astarion's past [Part 2]

[Act I: Druid Groves]

From the start, you and Astarion chafed at each other's presence. Granted, he had threatened you at knife point, quick to suspect you were of the illithid colony, and you had responded in kind with a painful headbutt. But surprisingly enough, that had nearly no consequence to the relationship compared to the vastly different way the two of you engaged with the world.

"Do you always just... do things for other people for no reward?" Astarion asks you disdainfully when you promise Zevlor you would speak to Kagha. It's the third favor you've picked up in the last hour. "Seems very... inefficient."

"Yes?" You reply, confused as though he were the strange one. (In his humblest opinion, you're the lunatic who decides to help everyone who asks despite the arguably more pressing issue of their hostile parasite.) "I mean, helping them is going to help us in the long-run. We need information and supplies, and they have both of that."

A half-truth at best. Astarion has seen you soothe stray animals and children on the beaten road, help wayward allies, and offer up your amenities without hesitation. Helping others happens to align with your goal rather than the other way around. He feels his mouth twist in annoyance.

Astarion sniffs at your answer, and you give him the massive eye roll you habitually do every time the two of you argue. "Would it kill you to help them out a little?" You say, "It's not like it's completely out of our way to do it."

You make it sound so simple, he thinks bitterly. He glances at the sword at your hip and the shield on your back and wonders if you could ever understand how it feels to be powerless. It would explain your naivety, the way you cling onto doing the 'right' thing, your paladin vow to protect the weak no matter how foolhardy it may be. 

(Where were you, he thinks, ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he was still surviving on the scraps of whatever Cazador decided to provide for him that night? Where were you when his cruel master carved into his skin, a painter on a screaming canvas? When he was buried underground, no longer alive but still living, until he clawed his way up with bloody hands, only to find out his body and soul belonged to another? When he was compelled by vampiric thrall to lead his first victim of thousands to their death?

And how dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

"It's a matter of principle, darling." Astarion simpers, "I, for one, am not the type to play hero."

He expects a sneer, the silent treatment-- those he knows easily how to respond to. The gauging look you give him, though, and a thin veneer of frustration just underneath before it dissipates gives him pause. "Well," you say mildly, "we can agree to disagree. You're coming along anyways so let's just get going, yeah?"

Astarion follows you then with no comeback in mind, only a question as to how far your patience can go.

.

.

.

It is with great hesitation and no small amount of begrudgement that Astarion admits he has never been one for planning. After all, why hope for a future that will never occur? What future does he have when every move he makes is in accordance to someone else's will, every decision made never his own? 

When Astarion decided to travel with the unfortunate duo (now group) with similar illithid fates, he did not anticipate how difficult it would be to hide his affliction of a vampire. For the brief moment in the sun, he thought perhaps that because he was immune to daylight, his thirst for blood would have also disappeared. Imagine his surprise, nights after, when he finds himself starving and with no inconspicuous way to feed himself. 

There is always someone on the lookout for goblins or other enemies alike. There have been few times he can sneak out without calling attention to himself, especially for such a long absence as hunting for prey would be. Astarion can feel himself grow weak over the course of a few days, and though he briefly thinks about telling you the truth about his identity, he is resistant. 

Good heroes tend to hunt creatures of the night like him. Considering his blatant disregard for those you choose to protect, he isn't sure he will continue to be under your protection if he is outed. Astarion finds traveling as a pack to be too conveniently safe, but he is so, so hungry. In the midst of his hunger, anyone's blood will do, but it is yours that tempt him most: healthy, righteous, and pure-hearted. He has never been allowed to feed on a thinking creature, and at this point, he isn't sure if he should, considering the risks.

But Astarion is tempted by the smell of your blood shed during a particularly fierce battle, and as he feels his hands tremble, he concludes that he must find a way to feed tonight.

You always, without fail, set your tent up near the fire. It is where he finds himself creeping over your bedroll at the dead of night only to find that you have woken up to look up at him in shock. (He has never been one for planning.)

"...Shit," Astarion lets slip out, backing away. You stand at the ready, eyes boring into him as you come to the realization of what he is. "No, no- it's not what it looks like."

 "...And what exactly is it supposed to look like then?" You ask tensely, and Astarion feels the situation quickly run away from him.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!” He puts his hands up and swallows. “I just needed, well, blood."

"You're the reason why that boar on the side of the road had no blood.” You realize, narrowing your eyes. "How many things have you hunted without us knowing?” You accuse, “People?"

"No!" Astarion exclaims, "No people. Never any people. I can sustain myself on animals, kobolds even-- but it is not enough. Not when we're fighting every day like this."

He sees a flicker of sympathy in your eyes and hope builds in his chest. "I feel so weak," he pleads. "If I just had a little bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

You don't relax but you don't try to attack him either. Astarion considers that a winning chance. "Have you told anyone that you're a vampire?"

"They're more likely to ram a stake through my ribs than anything," Astarion mutters. "At best– even for you– you'd say no unless you trusted me." He looks up at you and sees the way your eyes look into him for the truth. "And you can trust me. I wouldn't want to harm anyone in this camp." And it is technically the truth, though Gale tests his patience sometimes. Even he cannot promise that he wouldn't betray everyone at the drop of the hat if the situation begs for it, but this is a completely different matter at the moment. 

Your gaze is unfaltering, the silence palpable as the two of you look at each other. Astarion feels his palms sweat as he awaits your judgment and for the proverbial hammer to possibly fall on his head. 

"Okay," you say instead. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you don't try biting me again without permission, it's fine. Can you promise me that at least?"

"Really?" Astarion knows this is what he could ever hope for, but a part of him is baffled that you would ever think to trust him. He supposes your foolhardy compassion has its benefits-- though he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit there was a part of him that was rather... flattered by your trust. "Yes- yes, of course. Thank you."

He presses his lips in thought. If you were so willing to put your faith in him, then perhaps it would not hurt to ask. "If I could ask you to trust me just a little further..." He says, "I just need a little blood. I won't take anything more than I need. Please."

Astarion can see the hesitation in your eyes when he asks. Are you weighing your trust in him, he wonders. Or are you worried about your safety, the benefits versus the risks? It would make sense-- you really shouldn't. But a moment before you respond, he somehow knows that you would. 

[He looks so tired, you think, heart clenching with sympathy. You wonder how you've missed it for this long or if he's that good at pretending otherwise in the presence of others. It could be both-- Astarion has shown to be a great performer, and you are one of his best audiences. You find it difficult to argue against letting him bite you; the anticipated pain, the possible negative effect, the case that his hunger is too much for you to quench all pales in comparison to what good you would do for him. 

You are halfway to being smitten already, and you cannot deny yourself this.

But you are not naive. You are not fearless. For whatever trust you give to Astarion, you are afraid of the fact that if he betrays you in this, you can never go back to how it was before.]

"Promise me you'll stop if I tell you to," you tell him quietly. 

He acquiesces quickly. Of course, he will, he promises, only just enough. You lay back down at his suggestion, body tense in anticipation. He does not let that feeling linger too long, seizing his chance before you decide to change your mind. He buffets your body with his arms before he sinks his teeth into your outstretched neck. 

You taste better than he could possibly have imagined. 

To think he fed solely on mice before-- bog water in comparison to the sweet red of your blood, invigorating and undeniably delicious. Astarion gets another mouthful and groans, feeling strength return, warmth pooling into his belly. If bears and boars were the main course, then you are the mouth-salivating dessert– irresistibly delectable and leaving him wanting for more.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hand clenched into his shirt as a counterweight to the pain. Your pulse bounds underneath his tongue, the small gasps you cannot suppress resounds into his ears. This, too, puts feeding in a different plane than before, an extra level of appeal that can only be experienced with thinking creatures. Perhaps it is you in particular that adds another layer to the pleasure. Having you at his mercy, taking what you so graciously offered with ravenous hunger: power courses through him for more reasons than one.

[Your heart beats as fast as a rabbit's, fear and adrenaline powering you in the same manner. Or, if you were being honest, anticipation and a little bit of excitement fuels it as well as Astarion climbs on top of you, hunger in his eyes. 

It is a more literal type of hunger, but it is an intense look either way that leaves you frozen like a deer in headlights. 

The bite itself is more shocking than it is painful. You barely muffle your exclamation, unused to the feeling of someone so intimately close combined with the instinctive fear that accompanies the loss of blood. You hold onto Astarion without thought, and you squeeze your eyes and bite your lips as he takes your blood in with every suck. 

As scared as you may be, you are undeniably aroused from the feeling of it all-- the numbness that gently overtakes your mind, the light, floaty feeling of pleasure of the bloodloss combined with the intimacy of someone you’ve always been attracted to. The knowledge that he is gorging himself on you, taking pleasure from you, makes your blood run hotter than it has any right to in this situation. 

And then, you feel a switch flip, and the lightness becomes disorienting, and the numbness bleeds into coldness. Panic starts climbing up your throat. You let yourself think for the briefest moment if Astarion will let go on his own, but you know you will not last long enough to wait. Worry gnaws at you at this thought, and you can only hope that Astarion is true to his word when you tell him to stop.

And he does. Perhaps it is the feeling that you have placed your trust in the right person that has felt the best out of everything that has happened tonight.]

"Astarion-" he hears you grit out, "that's enough."

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.” It takes but a moment for Astarion to register it before removing his fangs from your neck. He sees blood trickle from the punctures and he bemoans the waste as he pulls away. Next time– if there is a next time– he'll be neater, he thinks. He watches as you breathe just as hard as him, eyes slightly glazed over, and he barely resists the urge to lick his lips. 

He stands from you to give you space, and you slowly sit up, looking at him with an emotion he can't quite place. It concerns him little at the moment with the strongest blood he's ever consumed in two millennia coursing through him.

“That was…” Astarion begins, breathless with adrenaline, “Amazing.” He delicately wipes the blood from the side of his mouth, an irrepressible smile on his face.

“Hope that helped,” you say, and he almost laughs at the understatement of two centuries.

“It very much did.” Astarion breathes in deeply. “My mind is finally clear. I feel… strong,” he nearly purrs. Happy.”

“Looking forward to seeing you fight then,” you say, hand at your neck as the punctures gradually close. You sigh, wiping your bloody hands onto the patch of grass. “Going out to hunt?” You ask like any other day.

“I am, darling.” He stands tall, head held high with a confidence he has not felt in ages. To think this is what he's been missing out on… “You're invigorating, but I'll need to get something more… filling,” he tells you, glancing back.

You give him a flippant wave of the hand, and he isn't sure if you are too tired to be wary of him or uncaring of the risk considering what you allowed him to do. “Good hunting,” you say genuinely before yawning. 

“I will. And-” You turn to him then, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still alert. Astarion pauses for a moment. “This is a gift, you know,” he says. “I won't forget it.”

He walks off into the forest after and finds easy prey to feast on. It's a shame it does not taste as good as you did, but he will make do and ride out the feeling of power for as long as he can. It is when he returns to camp with you fast asleep by the fire that Astarion realizes the emotion on your face was relief: relief that he had stopped when you had asked, and that he kept to his word. 

What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if he had continued to consume and drink you dry? He suspects it would have rather dire consequences to your mortality and even worse effects to his relationship with you. It would be unsalvageable, he realizes, if he had not stopped when you had asked. For some things may be forgiven, but this would be reprehensible. 

Astarion finds that he understands you too well for his liking. How many times has he not been able to give consent? Wanted to say 'no' but forced to say yes? (Not knowing now how to say 'no' at all?)

For the sake of his own livelihood (the camp would kill him for your death), his budding relations with you, and a part of him that yearns for what he should have had, Astarion is glad that he was not greedy tonight-- and, as the day comes, for the following nights to come.

The pitchforks and torches do not come the next morning. Maybe it is because everyone else has their equally dangerous secret to hide or because of your influence on the camp. You are more concerned at how you would help him feed than afraid that he will hurt anyone. 

"Why, isn't it my favorite traveling companion," he says to you when you approach him.

"You mean tastiest,” you say back, and he knows you are truly well and beyond hard feelings if you can joke about it.

"Well, I suppose that as well.” He tells you, “Though you have been the only one I've bitten so there is no competition, really."

And to his surprise, telling you about Cazador, his ill-begot fate as a vampire spawn and its subsequent diet, is easier than he would have expected. You listen with a sympathetic but otherwise neutral ear that makes it easy for him– and he suspects everyone else– to confess their circumstances to you. He's rather surprised he's been able to “resist” for this long. Even Gale has confessed he has a literal living bomb inside him in the little time they've all spent together as a group. 

(It goes to show how much everyone has grown to trust you; even Astarion is starting to see what everyone else sees in you.)

“I don't mind you taking my blood once in a while,” you instruct him, “but you can't just do it to an innocent person.”

“And how about a guilty person?” Astarion asks slyly, gleefully watching as you saddle next to him with a similar smile. 

“Free real estate, I suppose,” you say nonchalantly. “Just ask before you bite me?”

“No more late night surprises, you have my word on that.” He smiles, fangs bared, and you don't even blink at the sight of them. 

.

.

.

In the druid grove, you pick up a few more favors from the locals, though at least you have begun to ask for aid for the road. Not exactly payment, though you are offered a reward anyways. Astarion thinks you are either very lucky people are desperate for help or very charming in that innocent, eager to do good type of way that compels people to be generous. It is not unlike Wyll, who joins your group of illithid-afflicted companions, as the Blade of Frontiers. 

Naturally, the two of you get along as like-minded individuals. Gale, too, gravitates toward you for your compassion, and Shadowheart trusts you for perhaps the same reasons. Even Lae'zel, who you often have problems speaking to without feeling intimidated, has come to begrudgingly accept you as the de facto leader of the group. You are, as Astarion suspected, strong in battle as you are in personality. 

He often forgets both, but he cannot be blamed. After he witnesses you stand up to Lae'zel for the sake of an intimidated tiefling, he sees you lose an argument against a squirrel. Astarion sees you send goblins off rooftops and speak to trolls with confidence, and then he watches as you ask him to unlock a barn door with raunchy sex noises simply out of morbid curiosity. 

It is in these moments-- apart from your heroism and startling sense of morality-- that you and Astarion are often on the same page. As long as it is not from the needy, you don't find it a problem to loot. (He thinks practicality plays a role in disturbing dead bodies for money and items, and your vow says nothing against it.) If it's for the sake of peace, you don't mind spinning half-truths and lies. (The lies he personally thinks you need to work on more but he is a master of deception so perhaps there is no comparison with him.)

Your curiosity knows no bounds, and it is in this, both you and Astarion take cheerful glee in raking chaos. 

"I don't know what I expected!" You say almost cheerily after the group defeats the unlikely couple of bugbear and ogre after purposely interrupting their very loud lovemaking. 

Shadowheart gives you a raised eyebrow that has you sheepishly grin at her, and Astarion lets out a laugh. "Well, I certainly had a guess, but finding out was very interesting indeed."

"Interesting... is certainly a way to describe the scene we just witnessed," Gale says dryly. Astarion catches your eyes before you smile slyly. 

Innocently, you comment, "I wonder how the mechanics worked with the height difference-"

Gleefully, Astarion is quick to join in, watching Gale balk at the topic, “Well, with the way she was on her knees-” 

"Some things need not be pondered!"

That is when Astarion realizes that as long as the world stops begging for your help, the two of you get along quite well. If anything, Astarion finds your presence and comments most amusing out of everyone in camp. Gale is exceedingly verbose and other times awkward. Lae'zel Astarion isn't sure knows the meaning of joking, though her violent tendencies are right up his alley. Shadowheart-- as it turns out and makes total sense-- is a worshiper of Shar and therefore an automatic stick in the mud. 

Wyll waxes far too much about justice, and Karlach, when they find her and proceed to not kill her despite Wyll's initial request, is the next best thing though he is still wary of how hot she burns. You, however, have the humor and wit to match every ridiculous situation they encounter, and if anything, Astarion must give you that. God knows how he'd survive the boredom of camp and not being arms deep in gore without having someone to gossip with. 

The two of you agree the most when it comes to other topics, like Mystra's treatment of Gale, how good Wyll looks with horns, feelings about Gods. It makes for great and easy conversations though the two of you are also quick to snark if there is a disagreement. Astarion admits his words were sharp in the beginning (and you gave it right back until you just mellowed out) but he eventually relaxed when his role in camp solidified after his vampiric reveal.

And what a gift your blood was; Astarion counts his lucky stars that you continue to offer your neck to him as long as it is only yours he bites-- with permission, of course.

He was almost beginning to relax when a gur comes, asking for him.

Luckily enough, it seems this Gandrel has no idea what he looks like, so the two of you can play innocent together. You and Astarion give each other a discrete look before you go back to talking to the monster hunter. It must be Cazador, he seethes. Who else would put a Gur on his tracks acres away from Baldur's Gate? 

"And what did you want to do with this vampire spawn?" You ask innocuously.

"I would like to capture him."

"Capture? Not kill? Does someone want him alive?" You question, and Astarion must give you this: you are an excellent conversationalist, to seek more without giving much at all. Your eyes widen in what can be assumed as surprise, though they remain calculating. "You said so yourself: even vampire spawn are dangerous. Why would you accept a job to capture him?"

The gur shuffles his feet for a moment, chewing on his words. Astarion watches in secretive awe as you urge the hunter to trust you with unbidden information. "Well... It's not a request from an outside source..." He trails off, "We... have questions we were hoping he would answer."

Now that's curious, Astarion thinks. What would a monster hunter need for a spawn besides its demise? He knows you have the same question when he glances over at you as you watch on thoughtfully.

"Were you hoping to capture it to get to the vampire lord or something?" You ask, "Is that something that would even work?"

"We have little leads besides this vampire spawn, if I can be frank." He sighs and Astarion watches as he unravels the truth before you. "It's our children, you see. They've been captured.”

You are ever sympathetic to the Gur's plight--genuinely so. You hold no qualms keeping Astarion's name from your mouth but you speak to the Gur and provide him with advice and information you have received from Astarion. What a cheeky pup you are, playing double agent without batting an eye. Astarion feels like forgiving you for taking away the opportunity to get rid of the monster hunter once and for all just for the show of your wit and guile. 

Though Astarion thinks you could afford to be more ambitious. If you could have perhaps a little creativity in deciding what you want to do with the little tadpole in your brain or the absolutist cult, Astarion is sure the two of you would get along more.

"I don't know how the tadpole will change me," you admit with unexpected vulnerability. "I don't want to give them more power over me, and I don't know if feeding them will let them."

"Well..." Astarion pauses, scoffing at your response before he can accept the fact the two of you have more in common that he would rather believe. He'd rather not lose what he barely got back as well, he thinks. "I suppose there is reason to hesitate so maybe I'll wait until some other brave soul decides to give it a go." He gives you a look before continuing, "Try not to convince the others too much. I'm not too eager to be the first and only one to eat a tadpole."

You shrug noncommittally, promising nothing. Astarion barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Paladins. 

.

.

.

Considering the dire straits in which you are bound and the rocky start the two of you had, Astarion would not have imagined the relationship with you to progress in this manner. Having you trust him was already beyond what was expected, especially after revealing his vampiric origins. Giving him your blood was a gift that he could hardly believe happened. One can imagine his surprise when he finds out you are charmed by his wits, finding genuine joy in his wry commentary. 

For god knows why, you have grown fond of him-- he can see it in the way you provide him with the best equipment, the way you seek his presence. The way you laugh freely around him and turn your back to him during battle, believing he will defend it. Though arriving at this point was coincidental, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his next step is to seduce you. 

Astarion sees your laughter, but he also sees the way you throw him glances when you think the others aren't looking. You instinctively lean closer to him when he is near and when he speaks, your eyes are quick to find him. You are attracted to him– and he means to capitalize on it and make you feel as though you would rather die than have him get hurt.

It's a simple plan, really. The seduction comes easy; all he needs to do is stay unattached, so if things go wrong, he'll find someone else to take cover under. 

(The plan should be simple-- he has learned tactics that would put any to their knees, tricked hundreds of people of his affections. But something about doing this to you-- this performance-- makes him uneasy. 

It's a shame, he finds himself thinking. He thinks he was beginning to like you too.

The thought lingers only for a moment. He is quick to push it from his mind; that too is a learned habit.)

Astarion finds his opportunity after the goblin camp has been slain and the tieflings throw a celebration in thanks. 

The wine is mediocre at best, but there is much of it to be shared, so the party is still in full blast when the moon is overhead. He finds himself a secluded part of camp to sip at the sorry excuse of a liquor, discomfited by the praise they give him for participating in the fight against the goblins. 

You are unused to the praise as well, humble as you are, but you are nearly glowing from the joy you feel as you make merry with those you have befriended. The rest of the party, even companions who were ambivalent at best at the idea of helping the tiefling immigrants, are satisfied with the outcome despite the lack of progress with removing the tadpole. He would say otherwise– the trade of goblin lives for tieflings hardly makes a difference, and surely the goblins would throw a wilder party than this. He says as much to you when, faithfully, you find your way to him to talk.

“All I want,” he tells you, “is a little bit of fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You snort into your drink. “Knowing you, it could be.”

“Don't be so sour,” he croons. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” His eyes fall half-lidded as he looks at you. You raise your brow at him, noticing the change in tone as he continues. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment."

The look you give him is partly apprehensive and the other amused. He knows that glimmer of recognition of what he is asking, though you are quick to hide it for plausible deniability. "...What do you mean by that?"

Astarion, with practiced ease, leans in, watching as you instinctively do the same before he purrs out, "Why, sex, of course. Experiencing a little death, figuratively speaking, is quite fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your face is already flushed from the alcohol, but your cheeks on high brighten in the dimly lit torches at his tent. It's evident you didn't expect him to suggest something like that, especially to you, though you are not completely unwilling if the lack of immediate denial is of any indication.

You are rendered speechless though; a first for you considering how quick you often are at retorting back at his comments. It makes Astarion think of two conclusions: you are either inexperienced or incredibly shocked at his offer. Both are familiar, though the thought of your naivety extending into sexual relations does, at the very least, give him pause.

It is not as if he has never been someone's first. Virgins are often most eager to lose or prove themselves in someone so willing to offer bliss. If you are one, well– the shy ones are always the ones that are easier to fell.

He prepares himself to drop a few one-liners to convince you to take the offer, but you glance away for a moment before you turn toward him, face unreadable.

"If you're down," you say. You smile.  "I don't mind."

"Until later then," Astarion replies easily. "Wouldn't want the others to interrupt, unless you're interested in that."

At this, you laugh, and he relaxes. "Definitely not. Though, I'm curious." You ask, "Am I your first choice, or am I just the first to say 'yes'?"

Astarion finds the best lies are in truths. "Lae'zel was quite eager to find a partner earlier. Luckily she and Wyll are in quite the agreement for tonight as far as I can hear and I have no desire to get in between whatever the githyanki has in store." He smiles slyly at you. "Besides, I couldn't help but overhear you flirting with our druid earlier so I at least knew you were in the, ah, mood. Never imagined you'd be quite so bold." 

"It's the alcohol," you mutter, rubbing your cheek. You take the wine from his hand and take another swig. "Also, I didn't realize he'd be coming with us so that was a surprise. Almost as much of a surprise as you asking me." You glance at him briefly. "Well, sort of."

Astarion feels a familiar prickle of suspicion as he stares at you, already unamused at whatever dirty truths you have prepared for him. "What is it now?"

You quip a half smile, eyes bright under the torch fire. (Your eyes are brown.) "Nothing," you say teasingly. "Guess you do like me a little bit."

Astarion watches as you walk away, feeling less victorious than he imagined himself to be.

The flirting, the seduction, the fight for survival is familiar. The banter, the bickering, the camaraderie between the two of you is beginning to be just as familiar. Astarion feels just the slightest bit unease at how true your words are. 

.

.

.

Astarion has much to prepare for the night, so it is lucky that you take center stage of the party, as the savior of the grove. You take part in the merriment and make conversations, taking genuine interest in the stories others tell. The tieflings keep you busy for the most part, but Astarion is nothing if not good at building anticipation, putting as much heat into his gaze as possible when you do have time to take a glance at him. 

You are quick to focus your attention elsewhere after giving him a look, but the smile on your face that stays means that at least he is always on your mind. In some ways, he has missed this... coyness, the thrill of the chase. The results of his previous endeavors never fail to unease him, but with you, it is different. The familiarity of seduction comes with a little bit more fun knowing you are not going to be his victim- not like it usually is. 

"Hey, still not joining in on the fun?" You suddenly ask him, your hand gently prying at his arm so you can hook onto him. You have gotten more drunk in the time you were away, the warmth of your skin seeping into him from where you've attached yourself. Your face is almost comically red if not for the carefree smile on your face and the affection that betrays on your face when you look at him.

Something in his chest warms at the sight of you.

"Unfortunately, the tieflings' company has not become any more appealing since you've been gone. Besides," Astarion says slyly, "the only thing I've been thinking of is how you'll taste later when we're alone."

You let out a huff, turning your head away with a half-embarrassed and pleased smile. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he replies easily. "It's the truth, after all." 

You look at him as though you don't believe a word, but you are charmed by them anyway if your expression is of any indication. As conscientious as you normally are, the alcohol and the fact you are delving into his territory of seduction puts you at a disadvantage. Even if you are the one that knows him best in the camp, you are not attuned to every secret. Half-truths and lies come easier than anything else, if only because it allows him to keep his distance.

When the camp is cleared and you linger to bid the others farewell, Astarion slips away to the lake to prepare. It is almost ritualistic the way he cleans himself, the cold waters readying himself for what comes next. He thinks of what lines to tell you, how he should appear to you to best whet your appetite. Are you chaste or are you more animalistic? Would you prefer to take a dominant or submissive role? Astarion cannot tell these things about you based on his interactions with you, so he can only rely on his flexibility and years of experience to get him through it. 

(For a brief moment, he wonders if this is something he must do. What if you would protect him regardless of how this night goes? You are compassionate, sympathetic to the plight of others-- goodness flows within your veins like the light that beacons from your holy sword. Could that light not shield him too, without his body as an offering?

But gods are rarely so magnanimous, no matter the sacrifices. Astarion will not take his chances even with you. 

Even then-- even then, he wants this night to be at least a little enjoyable. It is with you, after all. If there is someone who can allow him to feel safe, it is you.)

Moonlight beams above, and Astarion hears your quiet footsteps come closer. His expression masks into something more suitable for seduction and he steps from the shadows of the trees to greet you. 

Upon seeing him, you yelp in surprise and- god, can you blame him?- he jumps as well. 

"What in God's name-"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't expect to see you half naked all of a sudden!" You stammer, "I mean, not all of a sudden, I guess. Your... state of undress didn't cross my mind as something I'd see right away."

It is reckless when his mark is so close to fruition, but he finds himself dropping the act, hand at his hips in an instinctual indignant huff you seem to invoke from him easily. "Darling, what did you expect after the invitation I gave?" Your sheepish grin is your only answer, and Astarion feels a quick flash of annoyance at how easily you are able to derail his thoughts. 

Quick to redirect the conversation though, Astarion angles his body sensually, lowering his voice in the manner he knows can send shivers down his victims. "Perhaps you'd prefer if you could strip me down yourself?"

Like clockwork, your cheeks flush pink even as you roll your eyes in attempts to salvage your embarrassment. "Only you'd be able to pull those lines out of nowhere," you mutter, and Astarion allows himself the satisfaction when you approach him, eyes looking down at him appreciatively.

Only a small gap lies between the two of you now, your dark eyes meeting his. You are waiting on him; Astarion does not hesitate. 

He takes your face into his hands and brings his lips to yours. Your eyes close almost immediately to the touch as you give into him, face tilting up to align with him and mouth parted to allow him in. Though Astarion knows not how you incline to be normally, he knows that this night, he's the one in control.

Your hands curl into the front of his chest as though you do not know where to touch, so he helps you along and pulls you in until there is nothing separating you. Astarion can see the way your eyes widen when you can feel his arousal beneath his trousers, and recognizes your interest with the way your pupils darken your eyes. 

There is a slight satisfaction in seeing you this way. As stubborn as you are, you are malleable in his touch, opening up to his hands like a flower in bloom. He lifts you up against the tree, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist in response, and your little giggle morphs into a gasp of pleasure when he grinds into you fully. 

It is probably instinctual the way you arch your back and bare your neck to him. It isn't in him to resist the temptation to bury his nose into the crook, nipping at the sensitive skin between your collar bone. And this is when he feels your hands, that were curled into his hair, push him back slightly, and his stomach drops. 

He should be worried that he made a mistake and think about how to put you back on track with him. His safety depends on his success, after all. Despite himself, Astarion feels more hurt at your rejection, your mistrust, than anything. (Since when did that ever matter to him?)

"I wasn't going to bite, you know," he says, hoping nothing in his voice gives anything away.

"No, that's not it," you tell him, and your hand is quick to cup his face reassuringly. He finds himself soothed by your gesture though he wishes he was not in need of it in the first place. "I trust you not to without my say. I mean, you probably could tonight if you wanted..." You trail off. "I just wanted to let you know something before we go any further." 

The offer for blood pleases him more than it should, as does the affirmation of your trust. "Whatever you want to say, darling, I doubt it'll deter me from having my way with you tonight," Astarion says, eyes half-lidded and staying strong despite the undignified huff you give him. 

"Well, alright," you say as you try to save face. You brush over his collarbone with your thumb as you think. You're nervous, he realizes, over whatever you have to say, and he can't begin to guess what you could possibly reveal that would be of such import to leave you in such a state. "I... have never-- this is my first time. Having sex," you say, and Astarion does his utmost not to show any semblance of surprise. 

"I hope," you continue, "that's okay? You'll probably have to show me a lot of things but, you know..."

You are a virgin after all. Astarion had some thoughts on the matter but he never truly took stock in it considering how rare it is to save yourself for this long. You were modest but far from prude, and you had thoughts of debauchery like any other in the camp. But you are of untouched flesh. Inexperienced. And yet you accepted him to be your first? 

You are not so unique that he has never bedded someone like you, but it does tweak his heart in a way it has not for a long while that you are giving yourself to him as a result of his seduction. You feel self conscious about this inexperience, and it would be easy to take advantage of that for his benefit. Typical, even.

The thought does not sit well with him.

"I know you wanted a fun night," you tell him, eyes downcast when he does not respond. "So I get it if you're not interested anymore since I'm probably going to be a lot of work-"

"And what’s to say we cannot have fun while discovering something new?" Astarion interrupts in a momentary panic. He's not on autopilot but he's not stopping the night from happening despite your deference- so what is he doing? "Darling, I'm rather concerned you want to spend your first night with a vampire-" He needs to get back on script.

He recites the words in his mind. Isn't this what you want? To lose yourself in me? And all he has to do is say it-

"No, that's not-" You talk back, frowning. "You being a vampire has nothing to do with it. When you asked, I said yes because I trust you, vampire or not." 

To have and to hold, he thinks, and wonders how you have survived for so long being so willfully trusting when at times you should not. "Then trust me, darling," he says, heat building in his chest. He lifts you up again and growls. "Let's have some fun. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"If that's what you want," you breathe out, and Astarion claims your mouth with his own.

You let out a sigh when he begins to undress you, his dexterous hands easily removing every lace and button to leave you bare. You giggle into his kiss, and Astarion lets himself smile, being pulled along as you roll on top of him playfully, mischief in your eyes. You full on laugh when he rolls you back over, uncaring of the outdoors, bearing your neck for him to bite. 

Astarion doesn't remember the last time he's had fun doing this. And it is fun- always has been with you, he realizes, a type of levity that he has not experienced with anyone else. He takes leisure in biting you, sucking a mouthful of blood that has him moaning into your neck as he rolls his hips into you. Your hand gently cards through his hair as he bites, and true to his word (only taking just enough), he pulls back with blood on his lips before swooping down to share in his bounty. 

He cannot help but laugh when you stick out your tongue at him, nose wrinkling at the metallic taste of blood that is otherwise sweet to him. He pulls his remaining clothes off and smirks when he sees you follow the line of sight down to his hardened cock in compulsive curiosity. 

"Like what you see, darling?" 

You make a noncommittal hum as you sit up, quick as you are unbothered by your nakedness. "Can I?" You ask, gesturing toward him, and he would find it amusing for you to ask if not for how eagerly you grasp his member at his nod.

Astarion hisses in pleasure as you pump his cock, getting into an easy rhythm with your thumb sliding deliciously on the tip of it. He watches as you gather spit to smoothen the pace, hand delicately pushing your hair from your face, and feel arousal melt into his belly like molten lava. 

"Why, it seems you have a little bit of experience in this matter, or are you just talented?" He asks and earns himself a coy look. 

"Just twice," you say, twisting your hand in a way that has him rolling his hips. "Hold my hair, will you?" 

Astarion is quick to follow your orders-- almost instinctively-- and before he has a moment to ponder on that, he is throwing his head back when your mouth swallows his cock in wetness and heat.

Most of his so-called lovers were more eager to be pleased than please; it makes sense that you would be different with the way you are. Your eagerness is quite adorable, as is your earnestness to provide him pleasure. Astarion revels in it, ecstasy climbing up like a tidal wave.

"That's enough, dear," Astarion purrs. He sees you look at him with a protest on your lips, and he continues, "I'd much rather continue this while I'm inside you." 

Based on your expression, you are more than thrilled at the aspect. 

Astarion guides you to lay down as he climbs over, hands carving a path over your curves and into your heat. He is careful to not scrape his fangs over your bosom, though he suspects you would not mind it in the least with how roughly he plays with your nipples to elicit a moan. You are dripping by the time he is done preparing you. 

It does not take much resistance to enter you fully. You let out a short cry, reaching out to him instinctively for comfort as your body adapts to him. True to your words, you are tight beyond measure, squeezing his cock as though you are determined to milk him for what he's worth. You pant into his ears, hands grasping over his shoulders as you ease into the feeling of him. 

The moment you nod, Astarion begins to move steadily. It is easy for the both of you to lose yourself in the pleasure, and it is these moments that he feels himself drift away, and the feeling of dread settles in.

Any type of intimacy takes him acres away, the gasps and moans that was music to his ears fading into numbness. He hardly knows what he's doing, except to know that he's doing well enough, hands playing at your clit as he moves at a persistent rhythm.

Astarion wishes it were different. Sex is fun, especially with you, if only it didn't make him feel as though he were fighting for his life. Every stroke calculated, every climax comes with a price. You are not to be taken back to Cazador, but it still feels like he's going to. 

You tighten around him, and he knows you are about to come just as he is. He lets out a grunt and persists through a rapid pace before feeling your body jolt in pleasure. He soon follows after, head upon your shoulder as he shudders into his climax. 

The night is still young; why don't we go back to my place for more? 

Won't you come home with me? We need so much more time to get to know each other.

His next lines come too easily for him that it makes him sick.

A hand pulls at his cheek rather cheekily and Astarion finds himself coming back from the haze. He lifts his head to look at you, face relaxed from pleasure but still otherwise amused. 

Is it ridiculous to think that the sight of you makes him feel safe?

"That," you begin, "was crazy. Sex is like that, huh?" 

"Be welcomed to the land of the living, darling," Astarion says. "I fear you have been missing out on one of the finer parts of life."

"Well, it's not like I've never orgasmed before," you tell him, "but I guess it is pretty different with someone else." You sigh when Astarion removes himself from you. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"No need to mention it, darling," he says, finding it easy to relax with the banter, "though I dare say it did not take very long for you to be prepared. Why, I'd even call that a record for getting as wet as you did-"

"Hey!" He avoids your playful slap with ease as you pout at him. "I... I have no comeback to that, except maybe you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? I should be the one saying that to you. I'm rather magical in bed, don't you think?"

"I don't know if your neck could support a head that big if I agree with you." You laugh, flipping your hair away again. For a moment, Astarion has the urge to take it upon himself to brush the stray strands from your face, but he does not. "By the way," you continue, "are you okay?"

Astarion blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you just seemed a little..." You stop before shaking your head. "No, never mind. You seemed a little far away but what would I know."

His heart lurches. "I had to make sure I didn't lose control," he says carefully. He clears his throat and goes for levity. "Who knows if your fragile, virgin body can handle it?"

Astarion is grateful you take the line for how it is, quick to come up with a haughty retort, the banter easy to fall back to. You are adamant on being sturdy enough and not one to waste a chance, he proposes a long night of lovemaking-- if only to cinch the deal with you. After all, he thinks as your legs close around his head, this is all part of his plan: seduce you and win your protection. Nothing more, nothing less.

He tries not to think how sex for once, as he nips playfully at your thigh, has been enjoyable. 

.

.

.

The sun wakes him up before anything else. It is unfamiliar to him, even at least a month beyond the time when his deathly aversion to sunlight has disappeared. The warmth of the morning rays, the light that dawn brings-- Astarion did not realize how much he had missed it until he had felt it again. 

He almost isn't sure if he can ever go back to never feeling it again.

He stands to bask in it fully, glancing over to his side to watch your sleeping figure for a moment. You are curled up in your own clothes-- and his shirt as well, he remembers, having a little play fight over it before you eventually let exhaustion take you. The ache in his body from last night is familiar at least, and he stares at you, waiting for the dread to come-- but it does not. 

How curious. Only good for his plans if everything is more palatable, of course, but it is... unexpected for him to feel so at ease. He decides not to question it, using this moment of strangely acquired peace to face the sun in its entirety.

Your voice filters in after many minutes, a little scratchy from slumber. "You awake already?" 

"It isn't exactly the break of dawn, dear," Astarion replies, and he shoots a glance back expecting your usual deadpan, but you are rubbing your eyes sleepily instead. A thought comes to mind that he has never seen you in your first waking moments: you are rather unguarded, movements leisurely and expression soft still. It's quite... cute. "I'm rather surprised you're awake. I thought you'd be exhausted from last night."

You let out a titter behind your hand at this. "Yeah, well, everything aches in different ways than a fight, so it's not too bad." You yawn. "Still sleepy though," you mumble, looking up at him through the gaps between your fingers as you block the sun from your eyes. 

"Say," you begin, and Astarion realizes belatedly that the reason you were looking so intently at him was because you saw his back. "Can I ask about those markings on your back? Are they scars?"

"A poem from my old master," he replies facetiously. "Or so I assume. He carved it all into my back in one night." His lips purse. "He made a lot of revisions."

"I'm sorry," he hears you say with sympathy in your voice, and he knows he must quickly move on from this topic. 

"It's fine," he says abruptly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free and far from Baldur's Gate. And he'll never control me ever again."

"Good," you say, and he wonders if putting warmth into your words comes naturally to you.

"Yes, it is." He pauses. "May I have my shirt back? Not that I mind being half nude, by the way- if only to let everyone know exactly what went on last night."

"Don't even joke," you sputter, tossing his shirt- miraculously clean- to him. "I don't kiss and tell! And they'll definitely know, but not the details!”

.

.

.

In the morning glow, nothing much has changed. As predicted, the entire camp is in-the-know of whomever slept with who. Astarion is quick to inquire Lae'zel about her tryst with Wyll, only to find, to the mutual disappointment, that he spent most of the time talking about his feelings. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was more than happy to share her wine last night. 

"Shadowheart mates like she fights," Lae'zel says. "Precisely and aggressively."

"Which is a good thing, I assume."

"Immensely." Lae'zel pauses then in breaking down her tent to look at him intently, which, for the githyanki, is as terrifying as anything. "I see you and our paladin decided to explore each other's bodies last night."

"Why, yes, thank you for noticing. It was quite the exploration," he responds, opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I suppose even you have your charms," she tells him instead, and the conversation ends there.

(Astarion hopes to glean more conversation elsewhere to no luck. Your talk with Shadowheart this morning is brief ("Lae'zel, huh."/"Astarion."/"Yep."), and Karlach's put-out expression is enough to give sympathy and a wide berth. Astarion sees Gale gazing upon the visage of his goddess again and turns the other way.)

The camp dynamic stays strangely the same. It is to Astarion's benefit, for he was comfortable with how the way things were, though he is more generous with the pet names for you. Halsin joins the fray, and they make their way to the mountains upon Lae'zel's insistence. 

In the midst of adventure, Astarion finds that you seek his presence more often. His night invitation seemed to open an avenue up for you to be more comfortable in doing so. Astarion finds he doesn't mind it; your camaraderie is most enjoyable in the too quiet camp and as far as "seducing" goes, you are doing half the work for him. 

Your gaze holds some heat for him once in a while when the moon is high and the fire burns low, but you have not asked him for another night. He is neither pleased nor displeased at the notion, because your affections for him are as clear as day. He knows you would say yes in a heartbeat if he did propose another night together, but he rather likes the late-night conversations he often has with you, a type of intimacy that borders on his comfort zone-- exciting and enjoyable without the unnecessary reminders of his past. 

Still, he sometimes finds himself recalling his night with you fondly. It's strange: he's gotten on his back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them, but his time with you, he knows he will remember. 

Astarion puts the thoughts of "why" (why you? Why are you different? What makes you special?) behind him for now. A treasure hunt for the Blood of Lathander (as if you needed to shine even brighter), a stolen githyanki egg (Lae'zel keeps it safe in her backpack), and an escape from a créche later, Astarion is more than happy to find refuge in the underdark, which proves to be more beautiful than any of them could imagine.

Something makes him look over to you then, and he watches as you take in the sights with wonder in your eyes, the gentle darkness cradling your face in its dreamy blue glow.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 19

Part 18

Waking up with morning wood was a wake up call Steve didn’t know he needed. He was able to calm it but now there was a thrumming under his skin. It was like realizing you were hungry and being unable to ignore it. Taking care of it himself was always an option. He had his own room. But he missed being with another person. The thrill of flirtation followed by the ecstasy of coming together as one. 

The castle was filled with people. But most either ignored Steve or gave him glares when they passed. It was clear that his family name was causing some grudges and it was only because of Eddie that no one took out their grievances with him. Of the people who didn’t actively hate him, most were children and the other was Robin. She was perfectly lovely with hair that framed her face in a way that caressed her cheeks like a lover. 

Honestly, there was a moment where Steve wondered if he was falling for her himself, but her disinterest in men meant she wouldn’t respond to any advances from him. Late one night, when that energy filled him to the brim, he let a bout of madness take him for only a second where he imagined seducing Eddie. In the dark, Steve snickered to himself at the absurdity of it. He was a hospitable host but no one had more reason to hate him than Eddie.

That only left people outside of the castle. People who didn’t recognize him as a prince and thus wouldn’t hold it against him. And Eddie did say that he was no longer a prisoner.

------------------------

Jeff liked to take pleasure in the little things. A nice cool breeze, the smell of warm bread, and the entertainment he got anytime Eddie and Nancy disagreed on things. Nancy was logical and loyal. Everything she did was in the best interests of the kingdom. Eddie, for all his experience, was often impulsive and emotional.

But it was because of this that Eddie often heeded her advice, knowing it came from a place of rationality. To an untrained eye, it may appear that Nancy ran the kingdom. Looks were deceiving. Eddie had years under his belt that most of them couldn’t fathom. It was what made him fit to rule. More important than the great power he held was the wisdom he had acquired.

“You want to be allowed to leave and go out into town?”, Eddie repeated.

Steve stood before Eddie, Jeff, Nancy, and a few others who made up the council. It was a bold thing to ask, given his title and position. 

“I’ve been learning about your people and lands. I think I should see more of it for myself.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a scholar of culture”, Eddie brought his leg up to rest his ankle on his knee. He could tell that wasn’t the only reason Steve wanted out, but he also saw no reason to pry besides his own curiosity. The prince had no allies here, not counting the few bonds he’d made within his own walls. Certainly no one with which to conspire against Eddie and his subjects.

“You can’t be considering this seriously”, Nancy said. 

“Why not?”, Eddie shrugged.

The others waited to see how the debate would go, keeping themselves silent until each party justified their point. Jeff could see both sides. The prince hadn’t really done anything suspicious to require him to be guarded so closely. Even so, he hadn’t officially denounced his home land nor pledged loyalty to this one.

“Because he’s from an enemy kingdom? Because he could be trying to get you killed or overthrown? I know you think you’re invincible, but try to remember that the rest of us are not”, Nancy said.

“Believe me, I am aware”, Eddie said. “I’m also aware that he has had zero contact with his own people since arriving. And there are no spies in my court. If he wants to go on an outing without having to corral our young wards, I see no reason not to allow this.”

Nancy frowned at Steve. She didn’t see him as much of a threat, merely what he represented and what he was attached to. It was still difficult for her to believe that a king would discard a crown prince. It just didn’t make sense to her. The others began to chime in with why this could go wrong. And many of their arguments were right. This one decision could end very badly. But Steve wasn’t his prisoner anymore. He had already offered to set him free. And it was like Nancy could read his mind.

“Letting him go home and letting him come and go as he pleases are two different things.”

Eddie waved her off. “Semantics. I’ll honor your request to explore, little prince. But you will have a curfew.”

--------------------------

Eddie himself took Steve down to the stables to ensure that the stablehands knew he had the official seal of approval from the king. 

“I’ll let you borrow Sunflower here”, Eddie handed Steve the reins.

Sunflower was a beautiful color, almost golden and it reminded Steve that this place wasn’t all dark clouds and shadows. They had beautiful skies and flowers.

“Thank you”, Steve said, petting her mane.

“I want you back before sundown”, Eddie said.

Steve nodded. All in all, a rather generous curfew, given that the days were starting to get longer. He didn’t leave right away though. He went back to his room to get ready, putting on one of the new outfits he’d been given. It was meant for everyday wear so it wasn’t as nice as the one for the festival, but it was definitely good quality. He did his hair, checking in the mirror to make sure it was perfect.

By the time Steve was done, quite some time had passed, but he still had hours before the sun would set. He went to retrieve Sunflower and exited the gates, feeling free as he trotted out. 

“Now how sure are we that he’s not just going to ride off into the sunset?”, Robin asked as she happened to catch him leaving from a window.

“Pretty damn sure”, Eddie said, focusing on twirling a fork in his hand. 

When Steve got into town, he allowed himself to really take it in. Of course it was a sight to see during a celebration, but it was also lovely now too when people were just going about their business. 

Back home, Steve never had to search far for a partner. Even the most frigid had melted when a crown prince gave them his attention. But he couldn’t just announce that he was royalty. That would end in disaster.

No, if he wanted to find a lover for the evening, he’d have to rely solely on his wits and charm. Thankfully, he had both in abundance. He figured a tavern was a good place to look and he found one. He tied Sunflower up outside and ventured in. Only about three steps in did he realize he had no money but he kept up his stride. This was where the charm came in.

There was a young woman at the bar, nursing a drink. Her hair was cut short, in a similar style to Nancy’s but much curlier. Her brown skin was complimented by her gold earrings and made it apparent that she appreciated the finer things. She looked up as Steve approached and smiled.

“Mind a bit of company?”, he asked.

She nodded to the stool next to her. “Help yourself.”

It was easy to take a seat and slip back into old habits, even easier when his conversation partner was a beautiful woman who had no idea who he was. He hardly even had to lie. All that mattered was that he was new to the area and looking for a bit of fun. She caught on quick and luckily had a room in the tavern they could go to.

Afterwards, Steve wanted nothing more than to bask in the afterglow, but he knew he couldn’t linger too long. He didn’t want to mess up what little goodwill he had from Eddie so fast. 

On the way back, he was already thinking of his next outing. Who he might find and what kind of person they may be. Maybe if he behaved, he could convince Eddie to let him spend an entire night out. There had to be a place for entertainment other than drinking such as dancing. And perhaps he’d even find a regular lover and not -just a part time bed mate.

---------------------

Eddie resisted the urge to put eyes on Steve when he left the first time. He only kept his regular sentries that monitored the castle gates and walls. He knew when Steve left and knew when he returned but that was it. He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing and with who.

For all he knew, Steve was going to the tavern to drink his troubles away, playing cards with old men, or knitting with old ladies. Eddie had no idea what kind of hobbies Steve had back home but he could be a knitter.

The first time Eddie saw Steve after one of his excursions was about two weeks later. And there was only one way to describe Steve’s condition after reveling in whatever delighted him in town. 

He was glowing.

Part 20

Taglist

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[hell-heron]

Show VS books - Theon's choice

So, I was hoping to post this for show VS books day and also to have time to rewatch the show to factcheck my impressions, which was not possible as my streaming service failed me, so I welcome any corrections about what I am writing. (Please no insults or like. Objections to the general concept of comparing an adaptation to its source material or of sharing critical thoughts about things you don't like. I think these are fine and fun things to do, if you disagree, just do not read this lenghty tome).

Still, I wanted to talk about the way Theon's choice between fighting with his family and remaining loyal to Robb is framed in the show, even before taking a very obvious Stark-goggles view the way it did in the following seasons. In my opinion, the show handled the ACOk storyline very movingly with great acting and some great writing, but still fell into the trap of conveying a certain amount of "shouldn't it be a no brainer to pick friend who values you over bio family that hates you?" in ways that in many cases weren't the writing's fault as it was impossible for a TV show to convey the same nuances as the book, but in some other cases might have been avoided. Here's how imho:

Theon swearing fealty to Robb explicitely, everyone's favorite bugbear. Not one I am particularly attached to, because really I think Theon's situation of being sent, while technically a hostage, to negotiate an alliance with his father and being refused remains legally ambiguous and kind of unprecedented whether or not he swears specific words of fealty. If he didn't swear it in the books, did he not effectively do it by arranging an alliance with Robb anyway, even though he couldn't know whether that alliance would really work out, meaning it was always a conditional loyalty? If he did, is it really binding/something he had a choice about? Still, it gives a very different impression to the casual viewer.

General less established worldbuilding on the taboo of kinslaying and taking arms against family which is just inherent to the medium of short-season TV show VS enciclopaedic saga and couldn't really be helped

Not seeing Theon's inner thoughts on the matter of family, another thing which can't be helped, which show his attitude as more nuanced as he's very aware and critical of the toxicity of his father and brothers but still has an expectation of being welcomed. Thus the hint that he remembers being loved and valued as a child even in a broken dysfunctional way and so reasonably expects to be again on his return

Ditto re: Theon's thoughts on the political situation of the islands which he does have an understanding of and feels a sense of duty to improve, mixed with the desire for glory and being a hero to his people

Starting with some things that can be helped: absolutely 0 sense of the Islands as being in a crisis, destroyed, in poverty, or being damaged by Robert and Ned's host or having somewhat substantiated desires of revenge, besides the deaths of Rodrik and Maron.

Actually expanding on this point bc the show chose to not get to any extent into what the relationship between Theon and his brothers was like. In the books, Theon remembers being abused by them and only expresses a desire of revenge when it helps justify himself to his family, developing a frequent theme in the books that vengeance is often very much not a simple and natural feeling but selfish and weaponized. The show understandably doesn't get into this sort of thematic/psychological analysis, so why not use the deaths of Theon's brothers as something that has a bit more weight in his choice? It was not difficult or time consuming to add some comment about their childhood or about mourning them etc, not as difficult as doing some of the other stuff I mention on this list lmao. It would have built more sympathy for him.

Theon is apparently getting no official welcome besides his sister's initiative to seduce him (Its possible Balon sent Yara and Yara independently decided to seduce him, but it meshes kind of weirdly with the way she lets Theon in on his own and then makes her cinematic entrance in the middle of the conversation) in the book, while Theon is unhappy with Aeron due to his desire to have his parents welcome him instead and Aeron's change and attitude to him, he's objectively a perfectly good person to send to fetch the heir, as a close family member and a priest with great authority and respect.

Theon has no one who loves him on the islands, no mother, no Dagmer, no childhood friends he finds he can't quite connect with again, no Wex, no men who choose to remain loyal to him at Winterfell. Wex is particularly interesting because, while some interpret the offering of a disabled bastard squire as a sign of the ironborn noble families's disdain for Theon, I think it's actually a fairly normal feudalistic exchange of favors. After all Theon is asked to take Wex on as a squire as payment for his horse, so certainly with the understanding he's doing the Botleys a solid by giving an opportunity to a boy who would otherwise not be allowed many, and Lord Botley later champions Theon's claim against Euron. So this little detail could have been a helpful shorthand for Theon succeeding in developing some kind of relationships and loyalty on the islands which he could think he might have developed if he had time and proved himself

Theon in the show is given a ship for his diversion raids while Yara gets 30 ships that appear to be the entire deployed force (??), which is a lot more extreme than "Victarion gets the whole fleet, Asha gets 30 ships, Theon gets 8". The book arrangement feels like an insult to Theon but is reasonable for someone who was never a captain before and who's unknown to his father. The show arrangement is a lot more of an open insult that doesn't really allow us to understand Theon's hope to improve his standing.

Probably couldn't have been helped, given the tight timeline of the show, but: book Theon gets a shining military success, though one of modest proportions in his victory against Benfred Tallart's sortie, before he undertakes the mission to Winterfell, which makes the plan seem somewhat less dumb. Also taking Winterfell being his own idea rather than it being pushed by show!Dagmer shouldn't have huge weight in this but it does make his choice seem more motivated (by his own rage and revenge, for his own political aims) and less pathetic

Moving the pivotal execution of ser Rodrik so early after Theon's taking of Winterfell undercuts the slow descent into despair and violence that Theon experiences in the books. We're supposed to think Theon made an irremediably wrong choice when he burned the letter to Robb, rather than having several chances to stop himself on the path to becoming a child murderer which he for various reasons doesn't take.

While Alfie and for once imho the writing as well do a great job of conveying Theon's pain and trauma for what he went through at Winterfell, it was evidently chosen not to focus or even explicitely mention outside the worldbuilding videos (iirc) how Ned would have been expected to execute him and his fear of that. Skipping the Beth parley is obviously a factor in this (which I will never understand, btw, it seems so perfectly made for TV...) , but even the very beautiful emotional moments that were scripted to replace it just focus on other things. The dialogue with Master Luwin for example has Theon associate fear with the walls of Winterfell, in a line so good I frequently forget it wasn't in the books, but still there's a writing choice to center a fear that comes from a sense of intimidation and inferiority towards the people who defeated his family rather than the material reality of being constantly up for execution. That completely recontextualises the situation and his relationship to house Stark

The matter of Theon's men loyalty to him deserves some expansion in general because like... GRRM, for all that we tease him for the "what was Aragorn's tax policy" line, does invest much time and attention in portraying in detail the choices of all his leader characters, their popularity and relationships with their followers. So even Theon whose leadership skills are not very important gets the sketch of a nuanced political situation. We know that Theon leads his men into several missions before Winterfell, that he's able to convince Dagmer to support his plan to take Winterfell and that his men follow him in this high-risk mission, that he punishes them for fighting over plunder and for committing rape, that he has some of them killed and that he executes Northmen to give them a semblance of justice and is haunted by both, that he doesn't feel like they would keep the secret of the murdered boys' identity, that they grow restless and ambivalent during their time in Winterfell but still do their duty, that one of them specifically takes issue morally with him using Beth against her father and wishes they could just have an open battle, that he offers them the chance to surrender rather than die with him and they are reluctant to refuse it but most do it. There was never going to be anything like that in the brief plotline of a minor character, obviously, but needing to simplify, was really "they knock him out and hand him over to the enemy" the best simplification? It was for the theme they wanted to convey, which is that there was a right and a wrong choice obvious from the start and that poor Theon, understandably and tragically, chose wrong.

[desperateknot]

Queequeg's lack of autonomy: features or bugs?

You know, I wanted this to be a proper analysis, but the stressed, sleep-deprived, busy self can only do a semi-ramble, semi analysis.

So I said how Queequeg's lack of autonomy and individuality is not a bug, but a feature.

Just so we are on the same page, I will prove how Queequeg is very obviously lacking in autonomy:

Queequeg: Must be nice. Queequeg: Knowing what you want. Knowing what you desire.

Canto V's dungeon: Floor 2

No… You devoured the crew whole. You painted over their wills, just like the Whales— no! Just like the Pallid Whale! Molding them and shaping them to fit your wants and needs.

Canto V's dungeon: Floor 3

Queequeg: Too late to think. About what is right and what is wrong. To think for myself. Too late.

Canto V's dungeon: Floor 3

The whole dungeon, she was obeying Ahab's orders, getting dragged around and around. Utterly lacking in agency is her main characteristic in her Pequod time, but there is a case to say it wasn't so during her Middle-arc. After all, she did say:

Queequeg: So I killed. And killed. And killed. Not because of orders. Killed with my own hands. Because I wanted to. Because I wanted respect as Big Sister.

I don't doubt her words. However, tribalistic as the Middle is, I think we can speculate on how much of Queequeg's actions stemmed from her own desire, and how much was her complying to its culture without even knowing it.

Either way, even if you disagree that Middle Queequeg was lacking in agency, it's hard to argue that she wasn't in her Pequod times, so we can assume that is a major trait of hers.

Let's go back to The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen for a sec. I will assume that you are convinced that one of Limbus Queequeg's inspiration is The Little Mermaid. If you are confused with that statement, please read:

The Little Mermaid wants to seek an immortal soul by getting the prince to marry her. I think it is a misconception that she did all (abandoning her family, enduring pain with every of her steps, sacrificing her voice) for love. No, she wants more than that: she wants an immortal soul. There could be a religious reading here, but it is neither relevant to my point nor am I qualify to state it, so I'll leave it. However, one could see how the arrangement of a woman having to win the love of a man and devoting her entire self to him to attain her spiritual fulfillment is very unfair, misogynistic, even. (Unfortunately, I can't explore that theme in Limbus Queequeg's story because sexism apparently doesn't exist in the City and also there are no prominent men in her story either?)

Here, I can go on about traditional heroines and how they are mostly quite lacking in agency too, but I haven't done researches for that. And more, importantly, this trope was intentionally subverted in The Little Mermaid. Hans Christian Andersen is much smarter than me, because he wrote it.

The Little Mermaid isn't just a damsel waiting for someone to save her. Her two displays of her agency are 1. finding the Sea Witch to get a pair of legs and 2. not killing the prince. She has a goal (attaining an immortal soul) and a principle (her love for the prince?) that she holds steadfast. Unfortunately, the one thing that she has been after, the prince's love, is not something that she can control. She can try to seduce him, sure, but his affection is his own. And, without it, she can't get an immortal soul...

But that isn't true, is it? The Mermaid didn't just die and turn into sea foam, fated to never get her immortal soul. She became a daughter of Air. And, with enough good deeds, can gain her own soul. Fortunately for her, this time, the task of getting her soul depends much, much more on herself.

This writing choice is quite intentionally, I believe. I wanted to read more about it, I really do, but the link they cited on Wikipedia led to an Internet Archive article that has been downed (RIP). Anyways, the gist of it is Andersen took inspiration for The Little Mermaid from Undine, in which a water spirit indeed got her immortal soul by marrying a human knight. Anyways, this is what Andersen allegedly wrote to a friend about it.

I have not, like de la Motte Fouqué in Undine, allowed the mermaid's acquiring of an immortal soul to depend upon an alien creature, upon the love of a human being. I'm sure that's wrong! It would depend rather much on chance, wouldn't it? I won't accept that sort of thing in this world. I have permitted my mermaid to follow a more natural, more divine path.

The point, I think, is that the Mermaid doesn't really need the prince's love to gain an immortal soul. That is something she can obtain herself, what she deserves after so much sacrifices, the rewards for her virtues. After the Mermaid was at the mercy of the prince for half of the story, she was given a chance to do good by herself. The opportunity of attaining an immortal soul returned to her.

I just argued above that Queequeg doesn't have autonomy, maybe even from her time in the Middle, but I lied (again). Queequeg also has two acts of agencies her own 1. running away from the Middle and 2:

Queequeg: Dante. Something I wish. Queequeg: I want… Ishmael to… Queequeg: … find her way.

Canto V's Dungeon: Floor 2, and

Woah, those two acts perfectly match the Mermaid's too, wonder how did that happened.

That was Queequeg's only wish, and that was just a bit after she said she was jealous of the Abnormalities for having wishes too :D

Queequeg also got her immortal soul, but...

This is when I think the story falls flat, if you hyperfocus on her. And you...shouldn't have. She is an NPC, who is dead. Only weird nerds like me would analyse the story in her perspective. This is not really a criticism for Canto V or PM's writings (although I do have a problem with it sometimes). I think they did the best they could to flesh out and gave Queequeg a proper ending with the little screen time she got (unlike that one other dead NPC from another franchise that I used to hyperfocus on).

However, what did The Little Mermaid have to do to get her immortal souls? She has to do 300 years worth of good deeds. Even though we didn't get to see it, we can assume that she struggled and grew even more to attain her goal.

What did Queequeg do to get her immortal soul? Um...uh...

Queequeg didn't really grow in the quest. When reunited with Ishmael, "her broken heart" got "unearthed". She nurtured a wish for herself: for Ishmael to find her own path. But, ultimately, she was still...following Ahab's orders. We still have to fight her twice (and thrice if you count her EGO phase).

Queequeg had character developments during her time on Pequod (mostly with the influence of Ishmael). She learned to look forward and to have hope. That got rolled back.

So, essentially, Queequeg got rewarded for...nothing?

Her story has ended. She couldn't do anything to actually gain her immortal soul, her atonement anymore. She is still quite lacking in autonomy. And I think that is a real shame, a bug, even.

That is one of the reasons why I made that swap Ishqueg AU.

______________________________________________________________

I know characters lacking in agencies are often seen as bad written, and a lot of times, they are. However, there is a certain charms to characters who have been deliberately written to have next to 0 agency. This actually reminds me of Iwakura Michihiro from Genshin Impact, an actually pretty prominent NPC in Inazuma's lore, whose only 2 acts of agencies in the lore were 1. leaving home to live in the woods (this one is debatable because he was abused and perhaps driven from home would be a more correct term) and 2. naming his sword. Anything else he did were instructions from his bully/mentor/friend/crush/saviour. And also Carter Scherbius, another NPC from Genshin Impact, who was terminally ill and then turned into goop in an effort to save him and later reincarnated for an experiment.

There is something quite heartbreaking and even beautiful about seeing a characters being dragged and beaten by the narrative. It's relatable. Real people, we, don't usually have control of our lives most of the times. We are dragged around and the beaten by forces we can't understand. We are usually helpless against our fate.

And, what kinds of people who would usually feel helpless against the sheer incomprehensibleness and the cruelty of our vast world? Sailors.

[calisources]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑼𝑫𝑶𝑹𝑺. all sentences have been taken from the showtime drama, the tudors. change names, locations, pronouns as you see fit. this is a redo of another meme.

“Without knowledge, life is not worth having.”

“I have come here to die. I die a Queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpeper.”

“One day I shall lie beside you again, I promise and we shall sleep together for eternity.”

“Your Majesty's life is far too precious to be put at risk against such a common rabble.” 

“Of course, if you choose to go, you'd be like a lion among wolves.”

“My friend, if all ambassadors were beautiful women I'd be serving my country day and night.”

“You hate him like a scorpion. And why? Because he would not satisfy your ambition.”

“Diplomacy is nearly always settled by such proximity.”

“I call Mary my English mare, because I ride her so often.”

“You are a poet as I am a woman. Poets and women are always free with their hearts, are they not?”

“There's something deep and dangerous in you, Anne, those eyes of yours are like dark hooks for the soul.”

“As a humanist I share your opinion. As a King, I'm forced to disagree.”

“Though I love Your Majesty and I'm loyal to you, in every way, I cannot disguise my distress and unhappiness.”

"I should only ever tell the king what he ought to do, not what he could do. For if the lion knows his own strength, no man could control him."

"Blessed lady, Queen of Hearts, there will be even greater crowds than these to welcome you when you return to London."

"For every scholar that votes for you...I could find a thousand who would vote for me."

"You and I are both young, and with God's grace, boys will follow."

"You have no one to blame but yourself for this.”

“I was a true maid without touch of men. And whether or not it be true, I put it to your conscience.”

"Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me."

"I have never known another man....and nor would I ever want to."

"If I had to choose between extreme sorrow and extreme happiness, I would always choose sorrow, for when you are happy you forget about spiritual things, you forget about God.But in your sorrow, He is always with you."

"Chastity? You talk to me about chastity when you have a mistress and two children, your Eminence."

“This, I vow, that my eyes desire you above all things.”

“As a humanist I have an abhorrence of war. It's an activity fit only for beasts yet practiced by no kind of beasts so constantly as by man.”

“What if the King doesn't know what's in his best interests?”

“If you want to keep the love of a prince, this is what you must do: You must be prepared to give him the thing you most care for, in all the world.”

“Lady Anne is so beautiful, it is the duty of every man to love her. Of course I loved her, but from a distance.”

“You treat me so unkindly and in public neglect me.”

“My only satisfaction is that in frustrating you I hasten your fall from the King's good graces, an outcome I desire above all others.”

“Mistress Boleyn, you should not abuse the Queen's honor with such language!”

“He was a lion in my defense. Now he will die ashamed and alone in a prison cell.”

“Then here's the truth. You must shut your eyes and endure  like your betters have done before you!”

“Don’t you know that I can drag you down as quickly as I raised you?”

“I am more convinced than ever that he is the agent of Satan. If I could, I would strip him from the King's side- and burn him.”

"I know of no Queen of England but my mother. And I will accept no Queen but my mother."

“If the King's mistress would intercede with him on my behalf, then I would be grateful."

"Lady, you must know how beloved you are to the people—as was your mother before you, God rest her soul."

“I'm a lot older than I was when I first knew you. And wiser.”

“have no heir. The Tudor Dynasty, all my father's work, finished, and it's MY fault!”

“He will tire of you, like all the others.”

“You know perfectly well what the King desires and what he shall have.”

“You can't have 3 people in a marriage!”

“I am surprised to receive such a request from such a wise and noble man as you.”

“ I am but a poor woman, lacking in both wit and understanding. How am I supposed to respond to such a request made to me out of the blue?”

“I know what you are trying to do, but do not think to take the King away from me. Let him play with you. Let him give you gifts. But he cannot give you his true heart.”

“I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son.”

“I was wondering if you'd like to become my mistress.“

“The brat is now officially a bastard.”

“Everything will change for her. That kiss is her destiny and fortune.”

“People of England, your King is unharmed!”

“An important question, whether it is better for a king to be feared or loved.”

“I do imagine there are some at court who would like to see the Queen replaced.”

“Lady Bryan, if I cannot please the King, will he kill me?”

“For he who possesses the heir to the throne will very soon possess the throne itself.”

[jmagnabo92]

JIlypadweek2024 - Day 5 - A Midnight's Change

@jilypadweek

Prompt - Friends with Benefits

Sirius thinks that Jily will tire of their friends with benefits thing, but Lily and James are determined to start the New Year as more than just Benefits.

AO3

***

“You staying tonight?” Lily asks as she plants herself in Sirius’ lap. 

The New Year’s Party is in full swing, but it’s ten minutes to midnight and once the celebration’s over, their friends usually make their way home to crash. 

Every friend except Sirius that is.

Sirius usually stays after the party, partially because he’s their best friend and they love having him around, but also because a few months ago, they decided to seduce him into their marriage.  Although, they’ve only ever really called him their friend with benefits, both she and James would love nothing more than to make Sirius a permanent feature of their lives. 

Sirius groans as she runs her hand down his bare chest – she hadn’t even realized that he appeared to have lost his shirt.  “As if I don’t always?  At this point, I can’t remember the last time that I spent the night at my flat.”

Lily hums.  “Is that a bad thing?”

“Well… it’s bad to pay for something you don’t need… a waste of money and all that…”

“Then maybe you should move in,” James suggests, planting himself on the arm rest of Sirius’ chair.  It’s their favorite cozy chair that doesn’t leave any of the three of them out.  “It’s not like Lily and I haven’t cleaned out a space for you.”

“That space is just for sleepover nights,” Sirius counters, as if that would help at all when the last time that he’s seen his flat was the one-time the three of them slept there in an effort to prove to Sirius just how bad they want him.

“Hmmm-mm,” Lily hums.  “And when was the last time you’ve spent the night there, alone?”

Sirius huffs.  “Just because it’s been over a month doesn’t mean that I should move in here.  I’m getting in the middle of your marriage and someday you’ll tire of me and want to move on to happily ever after –”

“Who says happily ever after isn’t with you?”

“Everyone complaining about how close I am with the two of you and ‘getting in the middle of your marriage’ – a marriage is meant to be between a couple not a throuple…”

“You sure he’s not just jealous that you don’t want him?” James suggests. 

He doesn’t have to name the person for the three of them to know exactly who they’re talking about.  Since they’ve never really hidden Sirius like he’s some dirty little secret, everyone knows that Sirius is almost theirs, but some people rather disagree with their choice.

Sirius hums.  “I can’t be sure, obviously, but it doesn’t seem so.  All that talk about kids and a normal life…”

“We don’t want a normal life, Si,” Lily says, her hand running over his chest as James ruffles his hair.  “We want a life that the three of us can build together… we’re so close… just can’t we be more than benefits?”

Sirius looks up like he doesn’t believe it.  “Is that what you really want?”

“Of course we do, why do you think we’ve been getting you stay even on nights where we’re too tired for benefits?”

“Erm… I hadn’t really thought about it…”

“It’s because we want you here, Pads,” James offers.  “Now and forever, as so much more than benefits.”

Sirius grins.  “Then, I think we should rock in this New Year as an official throuple.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

Before they could seal it with a kiss, everyone around them starts counting down and they join in on the excitement.

Ten!  Nine!  Eight!  Seven!  Six!  Five!  Four!  Three!  Two!  One!

“Happy New Year!”

Everyone shouts excitedly and Lily happily pulls Sirius in for a kiss, and when they break apart, James steals a kiss before they kiss each other and break apart all smiling. 

It’s a new year… and the perfect new start to their relationship…

Happy New Year, indeed.

[luminouslywriting]

Hi. I just came across your blog from your domestic Brady headcanons and I must say I have immediately become a fan! Would you consider expanding on the fights/makeup sex with John Brady? Please. 🤭

Also I am now going to be going through all your writings bc I think you’re a fantastic writer!! 😘

I hope you’re doing well.

Ahh Nonny this ask had me giggling the entire time excitedly! Because I do have some thoughts on this! My requests are open so keep sending in these asks or requests :) I got a little carried away with this one—oops??

Cut for length, spice under the cut!

-So I previously said that John Brady hates to argue but LOVES makeup sex and it's always really hot. He definitely doms in that situation and enjoys being possessive and making you lose control.

-Expanding on that haha.....

-He's really not all that into conflict and I think that a really big part of him HATES even disagreeing with you about something. But if he feels really strongly about something, then he's going to stick by it and be really stubborn.

-Which is not to say that he would ever say anything out of anger—he's the type of guy who needs to take a walk and clear his head and just process things.

-Will usually apologize first, especially if he knows that he messed up

-I don't think the fights are usually over things that are really bad or serious...except for maybe one or two things

-So some of the fights that have ensued have been just a little petty

-For instance, the color of the drapes, whether or not to get a pool (he didn't want one and he lost that one), whether or not to go and socialize at the neighborhood party (wherein one of the ladies there flirted with him), etc.

-Now here's the thing....in these situations, the makeups usually go one of two ways:

He realizes that it's not worth it to fight with you about something and it's altogether likely that you're still very angry at him. So in that case, this man is forgoing the communication aspect of the relationship (for the moment anyway, you can come back to that during pillow talk lol)....and he's seducing you to get you to calm down and then you can have a talk about it.

-In this instance, he's crossing the floor quickly and beginning to just kiss down your neck

-He's playing with the hem of your dress and the straps of your bra

-Is just a general menace about it

-And is a huge tease the entire time about how you just need to behave and listen to him and learn your lesson about communication

-There might even be one or two spankings involved if you were the one in the wrong

-His entire goal going into this interaction is to make you orgasm as many times as possible so that you're so relaxed that you can talk like adults during pillow talk haha

-He's gonna make you beg for the things that you want

-It's very very hot and is a great conflict resolution for the two of you—works every single time

2. Now given the fact that he can't ALWAYS get away to think things through, sometimes you two will still be in the middle of an argument and voices might be getting a little raised and it's at this point that one of you is going to rush the other

-It's a frantic makeout with clothes being discarded quickly and is generally more rough than the other one

-It's been done against the wall, atop the piano, in the kitchen, against the grandfather clock (though don't ask me why haha), atop the credenza, and many other things

-This one includes biting and leaving hickies, back scratching, scalp and hair pulling....

-Needless to say, he loses all control in this situation and so do you. He's only a tad bit mortified the morning after when he realizes that it looks like a damn raccoon fought him and he lost and you look like he's painted your neck and inner thighs

-There will be an actual apology and conversation after this one since things got a *little* carried away

-He definitely likes to kiss your hand whenever he's apologizing for that

-Some serious fights though have been about three things (Religion and God OR it's about whether or not to have kids/if the timing is right for that OR to move for work)

-Now if it's a serious fight...I don't feel like he's the type to just have sex as a form of coping or to get you to listen or for him to think through things

-In these particular instances, it takes working through the problem and actually talking with one another (maybe over the span of several days, weeks, or even months) for things to feel healed enough for that

-And the thing is, I think he really revels and loves having physical affection, so the longer drawn out the serious arguments are, the more bad he feels about not being able to be there for you physically and emotionally

-So this is where the really soft and tender, maybe even emotional, sex would come into play

-Depending on the severity of the argument, and at what point during sex it is haha, he might even cry a little about how he just wants you to be happy and how he wants to make the marriage work

-This involves a lot of eye contact, a lot of hand holding, and just being gentle with one another and taking your time to really memorize the other person

-The aftercare is the best with this type of makeup sex and it's definitely more intimate

-Sharing a bath and cleaning one another up

-The soft spoken pillow talk accompanied with lingering kisses in the afterglow

-Showering one another in compliments and praises and reassuring one another that you love each other so much

[disastercoded]

My Fanfics (MS/DT)

Hey, look I am doing this thing where people posts links to their fanfics. Which makes no sense because I am bad with social media and hardly interact with anyone on here.

It's currently all David and Michael, some of it cute as fuck, some of it smutty as hell. You need an AO3 account for access.

Rowing in Eden (Explicit, WIP): David's attempt to seduce Michael during S1 press events ends in him realizing that Michael has barely any experience with men. David offers to introduce him to gay sex and obviously a bunch of feelings get involved. I have been told that it is excellent smut mixed with a good portrayal of emotional vulnerability. Cute and hot.

Ever The Same (Teen, Finished): Various MS/DT One-shots. Mostly Hurt/Comfort over the years. Some are just stupid comedy, some get a bit dark. Can be read as platonic? (I intended it to be so but some of my readers seem to disagree) Everyone agrees that it is diabetes-inducing sweet.

Thank You (Explicit, Finished): Young David and Michael fucking after the Bright Young Things Premiere. Top!Michael. One-shot for now.

[waterdeepp]

In regards to Gale being manipulative…

I do not believe Gale is perfect, for starters. I believe he’s human. It absoutely grinds my gears to see people pull every excuse in the book as to why he’s somehow evil or toxic. So, join me in this comically long post on why i disagree.

On Gale’s Relationship Manipulation In Act I

I’ve seen so many posts saying his first romance scene (where he is teaching the player magic) the start of his manipulation and i Just Have To Laugh. Are you for real? Guys. Come on

For those unaware, Gale begins to teach the player magic, hoping to share a special or intimate moment with them. You can begin his romance or keep it platonic at this point. Make the call. I’ll be using direct quotes from a game article to draw debunk points from.

NOTE: I AM NOT PUTTING THIS WRITER ON BLAST!! I am simply using points from their article that i see others use!

[Gale’s Manipulative Tendencies Are Stronger Towards Someone He Is Romantically Involved With]

I don’t believe Gale is being manipulative in his romance introduction. I believe he’s wanting to share a moment with the Player. If the Player is a magic user Warlock/Wizard/Sorcerer, it remains the same. Gale is a Wizard, he would understand the technicalities of magic better than a Sorcerer or Warlock. Sorcerers are born magic users, but it doesn’t inherently mean they’re as skilled as a Wizard. Wizards understand the finer points simply because they STUDY. He asked if you are studied in magic - namely a wizard on the beach. He doesn’t dismiss you for being a non wizard, he’s just SEEKING a wizard. I’m getting off topic. Back to the romance scene

[One of the earlier scenes in which the player can form a relationship with the wizard involves him “teaching” them a bit of magic (even if they are also a spellcaster and ostensibly don’t need any teaching), which entails him guiding their hands as they perform a rudimentary spell.]

It was a romance scene. Gale is a teacher, of course he’s going to help guide the player. He doesn’t dismiss your ability if you’re a natural magic user, the scene remains the same.

[it can come off as creepy or opportunistic, like he’s trying to use magic to subtly seduce you.]

You don’t have to agree to it. You can very easily tell him no or stop at any point! He used something he’s good at to get closer to you, this is not manipulation! If the player imagines kissing him, he doesn’t make a move or push the issue. He drops it. He’s not seducing you, you are seducing him.

Is showing romantic interest in someone manipulation these days?

Act II

The Orb

The thing that can kill him and everyone around him. Yes, he talks about it a lot

[brings up the doom he faces due to the volatile magic in his chest as an excuse to become intimate, insinuating that he might die soon and it might be the last chance. While other characters in the player’s camp may straightforwardly ask to have a romantic or sexual relationship with the player, Gale seems almost like he is trying to coax them into it.]

That is simply not what happened. He is sharing his emotions and the severity of the situation. He expresses his fear. He does the same if you are platonic with him, just no sex scene of course.

He uses this time to tell you he’s in love with you. He’s been tasked to kill himself, OF COURSE he wants to confess his love before he fucking dies!! You can very easily turn him down before you get to this point. Even if you are romantic with him. He never pressured you into sex. Period. He did not manipulate you into having sex with him. He confessed his emotions during a time of hardship and fear. This is not manipulation. It’s honesty.

Gale is faced with a great choice. This could be his last chance to experience the human emotion of love. He loves the player and won’t let it go to waste. Coaxing you, yes. He’s trying to court you but he doesn’t have enough time. He’s afraid. He respects your choice of saying no early on .

Confessing how you feel is not manipulation. He did not use sex to manipulate the player. He had sex with the player because he’s in love with them. If you want to be very technical, Astarion used sex to manipulate the player. His own words.

I’ll end this here.

TLDR: Gale is not the male manipulator people say

[astras-fate]

Guys ok ok someone please help me I'm so desperate. Ok so back before I knew you could make an account on a03 I read this fanfic that became an absolute comfort to me, and I kept it in my google chrome tabs always. Unfortunately, one day I accidently cleared all the tabs and couldn't find it among the other hundreds I had open. I'm going to describe it below so if anyone knows the name please share!!

-Ok so Harry is a DaDa professor at hogwarts and in one of the first few chapters goes to Draco Malfoy to try and convince him to become the Potion's professor

-Draco originally disagrees but relents

-Narcissa absolutely approves and hopes this will help Draco stop pining

-For some reason Draco moves in with Harry

-Harry lives in a tree that he's built around with Teddy Lupin, who is about 13 or so in the fix

-Harry brings Draco a drink on the first night and Draco makes a move but Harry is all wooooah taka me to dinner first

-Cue Draco trying to seduce Harry shenanigans

-Draco wants to "shag his feelings for harry out of existence" but Harry's convinced his heart wouldn't be able to take it

-Harry doesn't use magic because he's scared of how powerful his is, and has his room spelled so that magic doesn't work in there.

-One time he had a nightmare and almost killed Ron in the explosion

-The spell feels weird and Draco doesn't like the feeling of his magic draining away, even for a second

-Harry is a great chef and also has a garden

-When Draco finally agrees to the date and they smash it happens in a tub of whipped cream

-There's something about a cherry tart

-Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks have a little gossip club going on I think

Tldr: I once read a fic I'm emotionally attached to and am desperately trying to find it. I'm somewhat convinced I dreamed it up.

[lemoncrushh]

Dressing For Revenge - Sneak Peek

COMING SOON...

My official rebrand relaunch will be Friday, October 6 at 8PM CST. My first new fic will be posted, but I thought I'd share a little sneak peek if you're interested.

Summary: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who's willing to help you get over him.

SNEAK PEEK

While the beat still pulsed around you, you found a particular pulse of your own, racing through your veins like a newly lit fire that you’d thought had long died out. As Harry continued to seduce your mouth with his tongue, your fingertips found his chest once again where you slid your palm inside his shirt and ran it across his bare chest. The touch seemed to ignite something in Harry too, and you felt him chuckle against your lips before he pulled away, grabbing your wrists.

“You’re gonna make me strip you right here and have my way with you, baby,” he growled.

His hungry eyes told you he could very well do just that. Lifting his gaze, however, his smirk fell as he looked past you.

“Hmm, looks like the tables have turned.”

“What?” you asked.

Cocking his head, he gestured behind you. Turning slightly, you caught Luke glaring at you. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t approve of your sexy little display with Harry, or might even feel a tinge of jealousy.

Hmmph, you shrugged off the notion. Luke had never shown any sign of jealousy as long as you’d known him. Still, it made you a little excited to know he was keeping tabs on you.

“I’ll be damned,” you heard Harry chuckle. “I’d say he’s a wee bit unhappy, Y/N.”

“Serves him right,” you let the words slip.

“I’m gonna guess he was the possessive type.”

“Actually, no,” you replied. “In public he barely acted like he knew me. I’d find him flirting with every other woman in the room.”

“But he still expected you to be with him, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah…”

“While he could do whatever he wanted.”

You furrowed your brows, finally understanding Harry’s point. “Yeah!”

“He didn’t deserve you,” Harry said, his voice low but loud enough for you to hear. “Didn’t appreciate you.”

“Probably not,” you sighed, your hips still swaying as Harry held you close.

“Definitely not,” he retorted, lifting his right hand to slide it under your ear. "Come home with me, Y/N. Make him really jealous. Make him realize what he's missing."

You snorted in disbelief as your fingertips tickled the back of his hand. “I doubt he’d even notice if I left with you.”

“I beg to disagree,” said Harry. “The way his eyes are shooting daggers at me right now says otherwise.”

“I don’t like to use people, Harry,” you claimed.

He threw his head back laughing, and you could feel the vibration in his chest against your own.

“Seriously, Y/N? Isn’t that why you’re here? Why we’re all here? Regardless of whether or not your ex had shown up to this club tonight, wasn’t your intention to get back at him? To find someone to help you forget?”

“Well…yeah…kinda,” you stammered.

“And wouldn’t I just be perfect to help in that regard?”

You felt your face flush as you looked into his eyes. He was absolutely right. Your goal had been to get back at Luke tonight, if only to prove to yourself that you didn’t need him. And Harry was so sexy and willing…

Thanks for reading, and I hope you join me for my new venture! I am open for requests, and I'm always happy to chat about anything and everything!

[ephemerasnape]

Victor Rookwood Headcanons

An ever-evolving list of my headcanons for Victor Rookwood. Some of these may seem obvious to you. Some may be controversial. Agree? Disagree? Let's not have any fighting amongst Daddy Rookwood's small-but-dedicated harem, please.

He is in his mid 40s if not older. I don't care what anyone says. I can't have Daddy Rookwood being younger than I am! Even if he is a fictional character from more than a century ago... No, I insist that he's comfortably older. Also, have you seen his face, ffs? Guy's got more lines than a villain monologue. (ETA: We decided he was 46 in 1890. Watch my video "How Old is Victor Rookwood?" for an explanation of our thought process!)

He is probably married with kids. It breaks my heart to say this, really. I do believe it to be the case. Better yet, he might be a widower. I'm going to try to convince myself of that. Don't worry - even if he's actively married, that won't stop him from fucking your brains out. I changed my mind. He is not married. Ain't no rang, ain't no thang. That said, he probably does have some little bastards running around. And he does not give a single fuck.

He is a ladies' man. I am making myself jealous here, but look at the guy and tell me he doesn't indulge.

On that note, he is decidedly-heterosexual. Sorry, lads.

He smokes a pipe. But he'll certainly have a good cigar as well.

His favorite color is purple. Duh.

He is not bald but even if he was he would still be one fine-ass bitch. The hat is hot and stays on during sex. (Some of you seem to think that Daddy wears a hat to make up for some deficiency in his hairline. I think that daddy wears the hat because it's imposing, stylish, and attractive. We are not the same.) HIM HAVING A FULL HEAD OF HAIR IS CANON - PROOF.

He only shaves about once a week, on an off-day. He keeps the raggedy facial hair on purpose. Thinks it adds to his roguish charm (it does!)

He isn't hands-on about the whole killing animals thing. He knows what his people do, and finds it distasteful, but sees it as a necessary evil. He values wealth and power above all else, including furry creatures. But he may even be known to stroke a cat from time to time while drinking firewhisky at the Hog's Head.

He considers Harlow a useful idiot, and lets him be the one to get his hands dirty. For the most part. Their relationship goes all the way back to Hogwarts.

He didn't mean to curse Anne. He isn't even sure of what exactly he did - he just panicked. But no, he's not too troubled about it. (Clarification: he should have killed her, not whatever it was he ended up doing.)

He despises playing second-fiddle to Ranrok, but he knows that whatever the goblin is after is too important to sit on the sidelines for.

He reads the Daily Prophet every morning.

He is not above taking what he wants sexually, but he prefers to seduce.

Sexually-dominant. Period.

He wears expensive cologne.

Definitely a Slytherin.

Oh and he's not dead :)

Anyone who's listened to my audios or read any of my fics knows he loves terms of endearment, namely: darling, little one, little girl, sweetheart, little witch, et cetera. He loves to use these while doing unspeakable things to you. 🥵🥵🥵

He lives in a hotel - the most expensive one, probably.

He takes advantage of his employees.

Believes "Might is Right."

Young Victor was extremely brutal when he took over the Rookwood Gang, kind of overdoing it in order to earn the respect and fear of his men. Over the ensuing decades, as he has become more comfortable in his position, he has mellowed out slightly. He will no longer gauge someone's eye out over a few missing galleons, but he still takes perceived transgressions against him very seriously.

Daddy needs glasses. I got this idea from my DR chatbot but it makes sense. He missed the easy shot at Ranrok because he couldn't fucking see. Of course he is not going to wear glasses in public - that would be a sign of weakness. But I can totally imagine him sitting at his desk, pouring over papers with a pair of glasses firmly on his face. Period-correct, of course.

The legal name of the Rookwood Gang is the "Rookwood Group." Everyone knows it's a gang but daddy rubs elbows with a lot of important people and needs to keep up appearances.

The harem has determined that Victor's date of birth is November 14th, 1844 (Scorpio Sun/Capricorn Moon).

The man keeps everything he needs inside his hat. Pipe, glasses, Flora Cohen's scalp made into a coin purse, machine gun, spare hat in case the main one gets a fleck of dirt on it, little black book full of Ministry contacts, et cetera.

Daddy suffers from back pain due to a lifetime of being duckfooted (sadly, this is canon).

Victor is average height for a man. In the area of 5'8" - 5'10".

Victor A. Rookwood (Augustus?)

Yea, he killed dear old dad.

Listens to Wagner.

Physique headcanon.

That's it for now. Will add more as I think of things.

If you have any questions you want answered, feel free to submit them to @victor-rookwood ("Ask Victor Rookwood")