#i apologize to everyone who read this
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perchingominouslysmwh · 10 months ago
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i have been hibernating
Reason? unclear
*squints at the bout of insomnia last month brought*
Hypothesis? sleep debt
it sent its loan sharks after me and they dragged me into the unconscious realm (i should draw that at some point- *notes for later*)
Resulting Side Effect: i feel quite feral now tho (lol what else is new XD) And well rested! (that's new :O)
Potential Remedies: eating a fruit (a lie) (but considering that I can't remember the last fruit I ate before this, a kind lie)
escaping into a book will- help? (no, no it won't) (but These Violent Delights is a tempting one- I wanna draw Juliette--)
Long-Term Plan I Don't Possess The Discipline To Adhere To: what if I draw every day (Required Item: presence of mind) (Error: Mind Not Found) (How Very Odd)
Potentially Important Thing To Do: prep for the final i have in three days (that I haven't touched yet :D )
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chiscribbs · 9 months ago
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Grown Apart AU - Musical Style ✨
What is This Feeling from Wicked pretty perfectly encapsulates GA Donnie and Leo's first impressions of each other, so the musical nerd within me couldn't resist doing this (lol).
Context within the plot: After saving Mikey's life (by total coincidence), Donnie manages to infiltrate the Hamato residence as a spy, planning to capture the oozesquitos and hand them over to Big Mama, thus gaining her favor. Leo, however, sees through his act easily and has been keeping an eye on him since he arrived. Due to circumstances outside of their control - i.e. Splinter's decision - the two of them are forced to share a room with each other, which neither party is particularly thrilled about.
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I just found out that, apparently, Grown Apart has made into the @tmntaucompetition preliminaries!!!! ASDFGHJKJH;!! Thank you to anyone who sent in a nomination! I guess we can officially call this "propaganda" now, so look forward to seeing much more in the very near future!
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nerdallwritey · 5 months ago
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Just to Ruin Me
Summary: “You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” OR The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two.
Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 12.5k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, but don't piss of Shadowheart Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 2 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here. Find the masterlist here.
a/n: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1!!! Your kind comments and encouragement spurred me to write Part 2 and I hope it's a sequel that lives up to expectations!! I know the summary is a little angsty, but I promise there's more banter to be had. Everyone is still a goof, after all. Please enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part ended with the following few lines: “For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. It was the best sleep you’d ever had.”
Taglist: @a66-1 @khaleesiofthewolves @khywren @lollipopsandlandmines @minestrones
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best sleep you’d ever had.
Though you’d grown accustomed to roughing it in the last few weeks since the nautiloid crash, waking up in the forest was still a shock. It had its charms, sure, like the fresh air and the breeze blowing in off the mountains, but the appeal was starting to wane. Especially after one too many nights of having to take a dip in the frigid lake next to camp to rid yourself of gnoll blood. 
This morning however, you found yourself surrounded by blankets and pillows from your camp in the middle of a clearing surrounded by large pine trees, all of which had been thoughtfully arranged by the figure trancing beside you. Your own sleeping figure sighed comfortably, unbothered by the lack of a mattress or a hot bath, just a nice deep sleep-
Astarion whacked you in the face.
Your eyes shot open.
“OW?” You scrunched your nose and blinked a few times to get your bearings. 
It was still dark. The forest around you was painted a delicate shade of periwinkle. You’d hazard a guess that it was just a little before dawn. 
At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back, away from Astarion, who was now curled to your right, his back facing you. He must have just rolled over, explaining the harsh wake up from his forearm. You smiled softly and instinctively brought your hand to rub your forehead where he’d made the unfortunate contact. 
Blinking a little more, your eyes were beginning to adjust. From this angle, you had a clear line of sight to the large scar that overran a majority of his back. You squinted in the dark to try and get a clearer view of the terrible thing, but came up short due to the shadows of tree branches being cast from above. Still just a mandala of jagged lines and brutal curves. When you got your hands on Cazador, you’d…
No.
No, that wasn’t your fight. 
But you’d be gods damned if you wouldn’t be there for every bloody moment Astarion faced him, giving support however you could. Though you had to admit that it would be so gratifying to corner the bastard and cast a quick little Otto’s Irresistible Dance… Assuming you’d be strong enough to cast it by then… Gods, he’d look so fucking stupid just before Astarion plunged a knife through his heart-
Enough. Battle strategies and sick, twisted (but satisfying) revenge fantasies later. Right now you noticed that the shifting of the shadows on his back wasn’t from a breeze shaking the branches above you, but because Astarion himself was trembling. 
Your first instinct was to reach out and touch him, but you quickly retracted your hand. Based on the short whimpers he was letting out, it seemed like he was having a nightmare.
How was one supposed to wake someone from a nightmare again? With Astarion you’d have to be extra careful; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stowed a knife somewhere within these blankets that he might reach for in a surge of waking fear. 
That… would not be pleasant. 
You shifted to sit up and look around.
Ow.
A dull throbbing made itself known between your legs.
No, that was great. Spectacular, in fact. You’d have to stop and assess later.
Gingerly, you got onto your knees and peered around at your surroundings. Astarion had done a decent job of cleaning up the clearing to make room for this blanket nest, so there wasn’t a poking stick to be seen within reaching distance.
Not that you were going to poke him with a stick… but the thought had crossed your mind. You were still tired! You’d been fucked for the first time last night! There was a lot going on! 
You shook your head to clear the stupid overlapping thoughts and set to looking around for a wayward pillow. You spotted one in the far corner and made your way over to it carefully but with some haste to end Astarion’s unconscious suffering. 
You crawled back over to him. And then backed up a little. Just in case.
“Astarion,” you sang quietly. 
Astarion continued trembling, but you heard him inhale sharply. A good sign?
You raised your voice a little, but kept the same musical cadence. “Astaaaarioooon.”
Nothing.
Okay fine. 
“Sorry,” you said quietly, then threw the pillow at Astarion, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. You leaned forward to grab your own pillow as a protective shield as he gasped and shot up.
“What the hells? What’s happening?” Astarion rolled onto his back and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on you. 
You smiled sheepishly and waved at him lamely from behind your pillow. “Hi.”
Astarion narrowed his eyes, confused. He shook his head, then lifted a hand to the back of his head where the pillow had hit him. “What did you do?”
“You were having a nightmare.”
“Oh, I know what I was doing,” his tone was sarcastic. “What were you doing?”
You looked down at your lap, guilty. “I couldn’t remember how to wake someone up from a nightmare.”
“So you assaulted me?”
“I didn’t know if you had a knife!”
“Why would I have a knife? What is happening?!” He sat up fully and brought a hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. 
“Are you okay?”
“Thankfully, I’ll live,” he opened his eyes and looked at you, his hand still on his forehead. 
You huffed. “I meant with the nightmare.”
Astarion sighed and closed his eyes again. “It’s far too early to discuss this.” He tilted his head up towards the sky, which was getting brighter with every passing moment. A practiced smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you once more. “I’d much rather know if you’re okay, darling.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?”
“Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him. 
He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?”
You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?”
“Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.”
You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.”
Astarion pursed his lips.
“But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.”
A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?”
You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.”
“Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.”
You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”
He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “I’ve ‘ruined you,’ from what I recall.”
You groaned. “I just said that to make you cum.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear.” His face was still smug, but he motioned for you to come closer. You scooted forward and he lifted you slightly to sit on his lap. 
He leaned up and kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance. You moaned in response and opened your mouth for him. Though the rest of his body was cold, his mouth was warm and inviting, and you leaned in further to try and get closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly to get a better angle. You’d been mildly distracted last night; had he always smelled this good?
When Astarion pulled back suddenly, you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the loss. He hummed in satisfaction, and his voice was low and seductive when he spoke.
“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptations-”
You giggled. “What?”
“Shush dear, I’m charming you.” He cleared his throat, “-it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin me.”
“So now I’ve ruined you?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.
“Wait, no-”
You leaned your forehead onto his and laughed. “And that one usually works?”
He blew out a puff of air. “You’re an unusual one, I’ll give you that.” 
You shrugged, pleased with yourself.
“But yes,” Astarion continued, “I’ve made plenty of previous lovers swoon with that particular line.”
“Show me what else you’ve got, then,” you challenged.
Astarion tilted his head in thought. “Let’s see… I can’t use the ‘cried from your lips’ line because I used that one last night…” You scoffed joyfully, mockingly scandalized that he’d already used a line on you. He met your eye and smirked. “How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again, with you.”
The sultry tone of his voice did send a pang of want through your body, reminding you that you were only wearing Astarion’s shirt and nothing else. You shifted uncomfortably. 
“How romantic,” you said, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “I didn’t think you liked dying the first time.”
Astarion narrowed his eyes, sensing your deflection and smirked, looking down at where you sat on his lap. He rolled his hips, which made you inhale sharply. “I see that one did do something for you,” he leaned forward and kissed your neck. 
You exhaled slowly, “I blame that stupid sexy voice of yours.”
Astarion growled against your throat and you shivered, bringing your hands up to his back. 
“Astarion,” you sighed and he hummed in response, licking over the twin wounds he’d left the night before. You sat up a little straighter. “Wait.”
He immediately pulled back and looked at you with concern. “What is it?”
“I just thought of something,” you said.
Astarion raised his eyebrows and nodded, wanting you to continue.
“Can I borrow your fangs?”
“My-?” His tongue instinctively flicked over his teeth.
“Because I want to leave a lasting impression on you,” you tilted your head at him to show off the marks he’d left on your throat. You shimmied your shoulders a little for good measure. 
“I’m leaving,” Astarion made to get up with you still on his lap and you laughed loudly.
“No! No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanted to try a dumb line on you, too!” You threw your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder. You felt him kiss your hair.
“You’re lucky I don’t travel with you for your personality,” he joked. 
“I’d say ‘I’m a lot of fun’ again but I think you’d actually stop talking to me.” You pulled back to look at him.
“And you’d be right.” He kissed you chastely and then adjusted you on his lap. You winced a little again and he looked genuinely sympathetic. “I might have a way to ease the pain from last night,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
You smiled at him. “Yes.”
He smiled back. “Good.” He positioned your arms over his shoulders. “Hang on, my love.” You crossed your arms where they hung behind him and waited to see what he would do. 
Without warning, you felt one of his cold fingers slide through your folds. You hissed at the sensation and looked at Astarion. 
“Supposedly, massaging the area can help,” he was trying to sound knowledgeable, but the look in his eyes was one full of lust. Then he tutted, looking down. “You could be wetter, darling.” His thumb began to circle your clit.
Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you leaned forward again to rest your forehead on his shoulder. 
“Do you want my cock again, love? You took me so well last night, I was so proud of you,” he’d moved his mouth next to your ear and was speaking with the same sultry tone that he had a minute ago. You whimpered at his praise and rolled your hips to get his thumb to press you harder. Astarion let out a low groan. “That’s it, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so good.”
After a few more tight circles, you practically sobbed when you felt him take his thumb away from your clit.
“Shh, shh, I know,” he cooed, “but we want you to feel better, remember?”
You let out a frustrated sound. “I already was feeling better.”
Astarion chuckled. “Trust me, would you? Impatient.” His tone was nothing but fond.
His other fingers began massaging the area around your entrance. You winced and bit your lip. 
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” you confirmed. “I assume this will get better?”
“That’s the idea,” he kissed your ear and you nodded against his shoulder. 
You rolled your hips, attempting to get friction where you needed it. 
“Just a little longer,” Astarion said, moving his fingers gently around your cunt.
You hummed an acknowledgement and kept rolling your hips, trying to combat this weird form of edging that was happening. 
Finally, Astarion ceased his massaging and brought his thumb back to your clit. You let out a long shuddering breath and squeezed your eyes tight, adjusting your hips to roll against his thigh. 
“There you go, my love,” Astarion said, voice still in your ear. “I’ll make you cum for behaving so well.”
You whined loudly as his thumb picked up the pace. You began rolling your hips at an equally fast pace. “More,” you whined, willing your climax to approach faster.
“Not right now, darling. Let’s give you a break there, shall we?” Astarion used his free hand to pet your hair. 
“But you asked if I wanted your cock again,” you whined.
“And while I’m pleased to hear that you’d like it again, let’s relax and get you off like this for now, okay?” 
You groaned but nodded, squeezing your eyes shut again and focusing on the pleasure Astarion was currently providing. “Harder,” you instructed.
Astarion pressed down harder on your clit with his thumb. He swept his index and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick. He quickly swapped those fingers with his thumb, changing the sensation by swapping one finger for two and adding more of your arousal to the mix. 
You keened and gripped his bicep. “Harder!” You instructed again, desperate and approaching the edge. You could feel the coil in your stomach preparing to let go.
Astarion pushed again and brought his lips to your ear once more. 
“I just thought of something, precious thing,” he murmured.
You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused and half lidded.
“More of a question, really,” he clarified.
You squeezed your eyes tight, nodding. You were on the precipice of your orgasm and could feel it fastly approaching. You slammed your hips against Astarion’s thigh as he continued to rub your clit brutally. 
“Do you believe in love at first bite?” He leaned forward and kissed your throat, then began to suck a new mark into the flesh there. Contrary to his pun, he wouldn’t drink from you without your expressed permission first.
It did, however, send you crashing over the edge. You moaned loudly, Astarion’s name tumbling repeatedly out of your mouth. The vision behind your eyelids was white and you reached out blindly to grip Astarion’s shoulders. His lips detached themselves from your throat and found your own. His tongue was immediately in your mouth, swallowing your moans and shouts of his name.
When you came down, you disconnected from the kiss and opened your eyes, a lopsided grin on your face. 
“Thank you,” you said. “I do feel better.”
Astarion smirked. “I knew you would.” He brought his fingers, still coated in your essence, up to his mouth and sucked them clean. You watched, mesmerized by the way his cheeks hollowed and his eyes fluttered shut. He pulled them out with a lewd pop. “Delicious.”
You felt your face flush, embarrassed by his display, despite just cumming in his lap. 
“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this,” Astarion said, reading your expression immediately. “What you should feel embarrassed about is the fact that you came because I told a joke.”
“I did not!” You protested.
“You absolutely did,” Astarion said. “And it was a particularly bad one, too.” He clicked his tongue. “You must feel so ashamed.”
You groaned. “I came because you started kissing my neck!”
Astarion raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing you. “It’s okay, darling, no one here was under the impression that you aren’t incredibly lame.” He gave you a pitying look, then kissed your nose and you laughed. He pulled back and looked at you fondly, a dopey half smile on his face. Then he looked up at the sky.
The periwinkle you’d awoken to was now vibrant shades of orange and pink. 
“Are you okay if I move you?” Astarion asked.
“Um… sure?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, and helped to move yourself off of him. You did feel a bit less sore thanks to his help. 
He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then bent to pick up a rag to wipe off his pants. 
“Sorry,” you said.
Astarion shook his head. “Comes with the territory.” You were about to make a joke but he held up a finger and gave you a warning look. “Don’t.”
You held up your hands innocently. 
He tossed you the rag after and then your pants and underthings.
“Clean up,” he instructed, “then get dressed.”
You furrowed your brows, your stomach dropping suddenly. He didn’t expect you to leave right now, did he? He hadn’t fucked you last night, then brought you more pleasure this morning, only for him to send you back to camp like it hadn’t happened, right?
Astarion snorted. He was watching you as he slipped on his shoes. “Relax, darling, I see that face. I just want to show you something.” He held out a hand to help you up.
“Okay,” you smiled, soothed by the pleasant look on his face. “Do you want your shirt back?” You made to lift it over your head.
“Keep it for now, dear,” Astarion said. “I rather like that on you, truthfully.” The collar was slipping off your shoulder as you pulled on your pants, and you made no move to adjust it, opting not to put your bra back on yet.
“Do you want to wear my shirt?” you teased.
“Tempting, but I fear I’d look better in it than you do.”
“Excellent point, don’t do that.” You adjusted the ruffles on Astarion’s shirt and felt a light breeze on your cleavage through the lacey opening at the collar. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said. You looked up and caught Astarion staring at your chest.
You laughed as he cleared his throat, then gestured deeper into the woods with his head. “This way.” He held out a tentative hand and you took it eagerly, bringing the back of his palm up to your face to leave a gentle kiss. Astarion squeezed your hand slightly at the contact, and began heading further into the forest, away from camp. A pleasant silence hung between the two of you and you rubbed your thumb absently along the back of his hand.
It wasn’t long before the trees started to thin and you heard the sound of rushing water somewhere close by. You emerged from the trees to find a cliff overlooking a ravine below. On the other side of the ravine was more forest, and beyond that, you could faintly see the Sea of Swords. The sun peeked out over the horizon, bright reddish orange in the distance. Its glow was a welcome sight and you found yourself in awe of the view.
Astarion let go of your hand and sat, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff. You hesitantly stepped forward and sat beside him, opting instead to sit with one knee up, the other leg crossed beneath it. Astarion sat back on his arms. The sun reflected off his skin in the most beautiful golden and magenta hues. His hair, somehow still perfect despite your night together, was being jostled lightly by the breeze. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head up, basking. You couldn’t help watching him as you rested your cheek on your bent knee. 
He didn’t open his eyes when he said, “I try to come out here every morning.” 
You sat in silence, continuing to watch him as you prepared to listen to whatever he’d say next. 
“After two hundred years in darkness, you forget how lovely the sunrise is,” he said. “I don’t ever want to miss another.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” you said softly. 
Astarion hummed in acknowledgment and opened his eyes. “I’d catch glimpses while lurking around the city for too long before dawn, hopping from shadow to shadow until I made it back to Cazador’s manor.” His eyes didn’t waver from the sun in the distance. “But there were moments where I’d catch a glimpse of it over the Chionthar.” His tone became sardonic. “The promise of a new day emerging! Something that I would never get to participate in.” He sighed. “I’d linger as long as I could in those moments.” 
You nodded, picturing a hopeful Astarion hiding behind buildings and in alleys, trying to get a fleeting look at a phenomenon that occurred every day, one that you took for granted. Your heart ached for him. 
He continued. “I never quite told you what Cazador made his spawn do for him.”
You tried to recall what Astarion had said to you before. Only that he’d been made to go out into the city and bring back “the most beautiful souls” he could find. Then Cazador would make him either drink from a disgusting dead rat, or abuse him for refusing. The thought made you visibly shudder. 
“I know that you had to bring people back to-” you lowered your voice, as if saying his name might summon him, “-Cazador, against your will. And that he’d kill them.” 
Astarion nodded his head once, remorsefully. “I never told you how we lured them.”
You could see pain etched into his features. You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He flinched a bit at the contact, but settled when he looked over at you.
“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.”
“It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.”
“If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.”
Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” 
You cocked your head sympathetically. “And I take it two hundred years as a slave hasn’t really afforded you any choice.”
“Correct,” he sighed. “As a spawn, your vampiric master has complete control over your body and your actions. Even in moments where I wanted to defy or fight back, I was powerless to do anything.” 
Your heart jumped into your throat. You hadn’t realized that was how it worked. Having no control over yourself or your actions sounded like a complete nightmare and you were glad that you’d hopefully never have to experience it. Knowing that that had been Astarion’s entire existence for the past two centuries made you sick to your stomach. 
“I’m sorry,” you said, just as you’d said the last few times he’d shared glimpses of his past.
Astarion’s eyes were closed once again as he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He continued to bask in the rising sun for a few silent moments and you watched as it slowly rose higher into the sky. 
“That nightmare I had,” he said, his voice coming out quiet, “I’ve had it before.”
Again, you said nothing and waited for him to continue.
“I actually had the same one the night you let me drink your blood for the first time.”
“Oh, please don’t tell me that drinking my blood was some sort of revenge plot against me for haunting your nightmares.”
Astarion smiled a little. “No, it wasn’t about you. It was about Cazador.”
“You know, I’m really starting to dislike this guy,” you said, knowing how difficult this was for him and trying to keep his mood up with another little joke. 
“You and me both,” he sounded tired. “In the dream, I’m in the forest. Cazador appears and recites the rules of being his vampire spawn.” He held up his hand and recounted them on his fingers: “‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shall obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side, unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’” 
You listened patiently as Astarion recited each rule almost mechanically. You scrunched your nose with each passing instruction and rolled your eyes dramatically when Astarion finished.
“What a prick.”
He smiled again. “With an archaic speech pattern.”
“I was going to mention his archaic speech pattern.”
The smile faded slowly as Astarion returned to his thoughts. “The dream ends with Cazador telling me I’m his forever. That I can never escape.” 
You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And yet, here you are.”
“Here I am,” he said humorlessly. He laid down fully on his back, the sun high enough to bathe him completely in its glow. He rested his arms behind his head and angled himself to look at you. “I realized, if I could walk in the sun, what other vampiric laws could I break?”
You looked down at him, admiring the light glinting off his bare chest. “So you decided to test your theory on me? I’m touched.” You held a hand to your chest, pretending to be deeply moved.
“In all honesty, I thought you were the least likely to kill me if I got caught.” He smirked at you. “And it would seem I was right.”
“I wouldn’t have let any of the others kill you,” you said firmly.
Astarion chuckled. “How sweet. My brave little protector.” He reached over to pinch your cheek.
You swatted him away. “Hey, who saved your ass from a bugbear yesterday?”
He shrugged. “I would have been fine.”
You leaned forward and shoved him lightly, making him laugh and throw his arm forward as a shield. 
When his laughter died down, his face grew a touch more serious again. “When you so graciously assaulted me this morning, he’d just finished telling me rule number three; that I can’t leave him unless he tells me to.”
You thought for a moment. “Which begs the question,” Astarion looked over at you expectantly, “how did you end up out here? From what I recall, the sun was still out when the nautiloid reached the Gate. You didn’t have the tadpole yet, so how’d you escape?”
“I wouldn’t say it was much of an escape.” His eyes shifted up to the sky, his expression thoughtful. “I was looking for new victims for Cazador. It was dusk and I had just been given the order to go out and hunt. I was weaving through shadows, avoiding the setting sun, but there’s only so many places one can hide from a giant tentacle that won’t burn you to a crisp. One of the tentacles caught me when I attempted to flee down an alleyway. A complete accident.”
“If it helps, I tripped while running away.”
“Of course you did.” He sighed. “Figures it would take an alien invasion to finally free me from his clutches. Not some,” he waved his hands in the air, gesturing to nothing in particular, “heroic figure sent by the gods to save me and smite that horrible man down to somewhere further and more vile than the Nine Hells.” His hands fell ungracefully to his sides.
He wasn’t wrong. How could any god worth their salt claim to be holier than thou when such suffering was occuring right under their noses? And you were pretty sure, based on tales you’d heard of Mystra and Shar from Gale and Shadowheart, that the gods hadn’t planned for the nautiloids or the rise of the Absolute. Yet if it weren’t for any of that, Astarion would still be trapped in Baldur’s Gate and your adventure thus far would have looked very different.
“If I’d known, I would have done something,” you said, knowing it was more complicated than that, but still wanting to help somehow. 
“Darling, if I’d met you in Baldur’s Gate, I would not have hesitated to take you to Cazador.”
That hurt. 
You said as much. “Ouch.”
“Well,” he sounded angry, though he directed it up towards the sky and not at you, “I wouldn’t have had a choice! Sure, it would have been a little novel, given how inexperienced you are, but regardless, I would have handed you off to him as soon as I’d made you finish.”
Ah. So that was how he lured people. It made sense, now that you put the pieces together; Astarion was so experienced because he had to be. Of course unsuspecting victims would fall prey to the allure of an eternally beautiful vampire, especially the one laying next to you. Of course the promise of pleasure from someone that sexy would be the obvious thing to agree to. It was a wonder your paths had never crossed before the nautiloid. 
“Once,” Astarion broke the silence that had fallen between you, his tone distant, “in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him.” He finally looked over at you, his eyes full of sadness. “So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man.”
You reached for his hand, then thought better of it. All his snide “don’t touch me’s” on the road now held a new, terrible weight.
“After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence”
A hand flew to your mouth. “Astarion…” you felt your eyes begin to prick with tears and did your best to will them away, fearing that they might make Astarion stop sharing.
He went on. “Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out, more months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out shakily. “So no, I wouldn’t have hesitated, had we crossed paths.”
You opened and closed your mouth several times, attempting to find words that could possibly compose an appropriate response to the horrors you currently refused to picture. “I have no words,” is what you finally settled on, followed by an, “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing can make up for that,” he said quietly. “Not even Cazador’s death.” He paused. “Well, it would help a little, but the coward deserves a fate worse than death.”
“Can I hug you?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself.
Astarion blinked a few times, then sat up. “What?”
“I just… you’ve been through such hell and I want to hug you, but I don’t want to touch you without your permission.”
He looked you up and down and saw the sincerity evident on your face. “I… suppose.” He pulled his legs up from where they were still dangling above the ravine and turned to face you head on. 
“Thank you,” you said, still attempting to keep your tears at bay.
You leaned forward and weaved your arms beneath Astarion’s, hooking your arms up and placing your hands on his shoulder blades. You settled your face between his neck and shoulder and could feel that his arms were frozen rigidly in place in front of him. You took a shaky breath and stayed still, allowing Astarion to move at his own pace. 
His arms finally settled around you and he bent his head so his cheek rested against your hair. 
The two of you stayed like that for a while, relishing in the other’s closeness. You moved your hands back and forth across his back absently. When you caught yourself, you pulled back to look at him and asked, “Is it okay that I’m touching your back?”
Astarion chuckled softly. “Yes, my dear. It’s rather nice, actually.”
You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Seriously, did he always smell this good?
Despite the pleasant distraction, something was nagging at your thoughts.
“Can I ask you something?” you murmured into his skin.
Astarion sighed dramatically. “If it has anything to do with my fangs, I’ll rip your throat out.”
You snickered to yourself. “No, not another dumb joke, I promise.”
“Then by all means.”
You pulled back once more to look at him in the face. His eyes widened when he saw your nervous expression. You avoided holding his gaze, feeling a little small. 
“Do you… want to be with me?”
Astarion looked taken aback. “What?”
“I mean… well…” You were having trouble sorting through your thoughts. Who were you to make this moment about yourself when Astarion had just been so open with you? And why couldn’t you trust him in what he had told you last night? Still, you had to know. You’d made it clear how much you cared for him and how much sleeping with him had meant to you. 
Given his past experiences, it made sense why he’d sleep with you, but you wanted to hear him say it. If this was all some ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wanted, even without Cazador’s instruction, you needed to know now. 
“Was I… just another conquest?” you asked, your tears reemerging. “Because if that’s the case, then I think we should end whatever this is.”
Astarion’s face was now inches away from yours. He moved a hand from your back and shifted it up to wipe a wayward tear that had escaped. He said your name softly.
“No, my sweet,” his other hand started rubbing soothing circles into your back. He pulled back a little. “Well, yes.”
You scoffed, another tear rolling down your cheek. 
Astarion was quick to correct. “No, no! I mean, at first, yes, it was my plan to seduce you and sleep with you.”
You let out a small whimpering noise and he tried to catch your eye. You kept your gaze glued on something in the distance, unseeing.
Astarion cleared his throat. “You- You’re valuable; someone willing to feed me, someone who advocated for me to stay with you all, even though you knew vampires were dangerous, someone who would protect me in battle, even if it meant sacrificing something important to you.”
Try as he might to get your attention back on him, your face remained blank as you stared into the distance.
“I wanted your continued protection.” He shrugged. “Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in and I thought I could secure that with sex.”
That got you to look at him, a sour expression on your face. “Have you met me?”
Astarion chuckled. “Yes, I have. And that’s what threw me for such a loop.”
You humphed.
“When I realized you’d be more of a challenge, I modified my plan.”
“I don’t love the direction this is headed.”
“Stay with me, darling” he said, “I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”
You exhaled and nodded for him to continue. 
“I did want to give you a good first experience, that much was true, but I will admit that I was still planning on using you.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You realize how bad this sounds, right?”
“Will you-” he sighed. “Let me finish, damn you,” he brought his forehead to yours briefly, then pulled back. “So imagine how stupid I felt when I realized I genuinely felt something for you.”
That made you smile softly. 
He groaned. “And yes, it is because I find you to be… a lot of fun.” The last phrase sounded like it hurt coming out. 
Your soft smile transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “And when did you come to this conclusion?”
“Well first of all, look at you.” He smiled slyly and you playfully pushed his face away from yours, just as you had last night. After a moment, Astarion looked up, as if searching through his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve always found you to be amusing. You were so easy to fool in the beginning. I mean, the very first day we met, you thought I had one of those brain things cornered.”
“I had no reason not to believe you! And then you held a knife to my throat!” “Ah, memories,” he sighed wistfully. “But then we started traveling together, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more. Killing those goblins outside the Grove, fooling those trolls into working for us, taking out those Paladins of Tyr… you always had a sarcastic comment to contend with my sarcastic comments. Which is saying something.”
You snorted. “As if I wouldn’t have something to say.”
Astarion nodded. “You do talk a lot.” 
You chuckled softly, feeling better. Your arms were still wrapped around Astarion.
“It was when I kissed you.” His tone was thoughtful.
“Hmm?”
“When I really kissed you for the first time, there was something different about it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily. “Suddenly everything we’d been through came rushing back to my mind and there was this… pleasure I hadn’t felt. In an awfully long time.”
You smiled like a dope, bringing your forehead to his.
“I realized you weren’t going anywhere. And that you genuinely cared about what I thought and what I wanted.” He looked at you almost shyly. “No one in the past two hundred years has stayed.” Astarion pulled back and his inflection became flamboyant and playful: “Not that they had much of a choice, but it was a somewhat shocking revelation.” His tone then returned to one of sincerity: “And no one has cared for me as you have.”
You looked away, embarrassed by the kind words.“What can I say, I’m incredible.”
Astarion blew out a cool puff of air that tickled your face. “Annoyingly, you are.”
You looked back at him and smirked. “For me, it was when you asked me how I’d want to die.”
Astarion snorted. “Pardon?”
“When you asked me how I wanted to die on one of our first nights at camp. I genuinely had the thought, ‘Now here’s a guy who knows how to have a good time.’”
Astarion laughed brightly. You mirrored his grin.
“You said you wanted to be decapitated.” 
“How romantic of me,” he said, raising a seductive eyebrow. 
“Well it did spark the crush I’ve been harboring this whole time,” you felt your face heat up at the admission. “That, and your stupid beautiful face.”
Astarion sniffed mockingly. “Thank you, not enough people mention that.” Then he looked at you fondly. “But that long, eh? How adorable.” He rubbed his nose against yours teasingly. “And here you thought nothing would come of it.”
“Nothing usually does!” you exclaimed.
He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you once. “Not so loud.”
You lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the empty landscape around you. Astarion shrugged. You lowered your voice despite the lack of other people to bother.
“I am glad something came of it this time.” You settled your forehead onto his shoulder.
“As am I, my love,” he kissed your hair. “Though I have something else to admit.”
You pulled back and looked at him curiously.
Out of nowhere, he presented you with a knife.
“I did have a knife.”
You scoffed incredulously and whacked his arm. “I KNEW YOU HAD A KNIFE, YOU BASTARD!” You laughed loudly and pushed him backwards. 
He fell back onto his arms, laughing with you as you crawled on top and kissed him deeply. 
“Careful darling,” he murmured against your lips, “don’t move.”
You paused your movements, your lips still pressed firmly against his own. Astarion turned his head slightly to look over to his left at the treeline you’d emerged from not too long ago. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt him grin. Then you felt his right arm come up and jerk slightly, followed by a “THUNK” sound off to your right. 
You waited a moment before you asked, “Can I move?” Your mouth was smushed against his face and your voice came out muffled.
He chuckled. “Yes, you can move now.” 
You sat up and looked to your right, the knife Astarion had pulled was now wedged deeply into the trunk of a nearby tree. You raised your eyebrows at him.
He stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam, his voice straining as he went. “Impressed?”
“Honestly? Yes.” You leaned back down and kissed him again. 
He hummed and his mouth moved against yours at a leisurely pace, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed down his jaw and throat before coming to his collarbone and stopping.
“You’re sure you don’t want to fuck me again?” Your words came out a little shy and Astarion laughed. 
He twirled the ends of your hair around his finger. “Delicious as you were, my sweet, I think I’d prefer to take my time with you.” 
You pursed your lips, disappointed. 
“That’s not to say I don’t want to, darling, but…” His fingers stopped twirling your hair as he thought. “Like you said earlier, so much has changed in the last few hours. I’ve only just discovered that I can sleep with somebody because I actually want to.” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek. “I think I need some time to adjust to that.”
You nodded and bent to kiss him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”
He smiled up at you. “Thank you.”
You spent a few moments just looking at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled in the sun like rubies. You sighed noticeably. 
“What is it, love?”
You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”
“Darling…” He raised his eyebrows at you. 
“No, it’s inappropriate right now.” You looked away.
You felt his hand in your hair, and his voice was conspiratory, “I love when you talk dirty.”
You sighed again and looked him in the eye. “One of these days, when you’re ready, I’m going to look into your gorgeous eyes as I make you come.”
Astarion sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Easy there, lover,” he gave you a sultry look, “I may just take you up on that.”
You sat up and spread your hands over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”
He brought both hands up to his face and groaned loudly before dragging them back down his face and looking at you. “Come lay in the sun with me, will you?”
You pouted but rolled off of him and curled into his side. 
“There now,” he said, arching his chest upwards towards the sky where the sun had now risen for the day, “isn’t this nice?”
You inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the trees and the sounds of the ravine below. You exhaled and closed your eyes, warmed by the sun and comforted by the presence of Astarion beside you. He himself had his eyes closed and looked peacefully content. You nuzzled further into his side, enjoying how his cool skin contrasted with the warmth coming from above.
Before you could even register that you were still tired from your early wakeup call this morning, you’d drifted back into a comfortable sleep.
~~~~~
You were awoken some time later by a lick to the face. 
You shut your eyes tighter and groaned. “Gross, Astarion, I’m trying to sleep.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the sun now directly overhead. 
“Did you find them, boy?” A voice shouted from the distance.
Your eyes shot open and found Scratch panting above you, wagging his tail excitedly. 
You sat up quickly and immediately leaned over to shake Astarion who appeared to be trancing soundly. 
“Astarion,” you shook him anxiously. 
He scowled, his eyes still closed. He groaned lowly.
“Astarion, my dear, my sweet, my beloved,” you shook him harder and his eyes opened immediately. He sat up, fast as lightning.
“What’s happening? Where’s my knife?” He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on you. “Ah,” he said, calming, “déjà vu.” 
“They’re coming,” you hissed.
“Who?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, thoughts still foggy from his trance. 
“No FUCKING way!” Came Karlach’s voice from the treeline. 
You looked over and found her with an elated grin on her face and her hands on her knees. She started laughing loudly and you hid your face in your hands. 
“You guys did NOT,” she wheezed. 
“Hello Karlach,” Astarion’s voice sounded nonchalant beside you. “What brings you out to ruin our beauty sleep?” 
“Did you find them?” Shadowheart soon emerged from the forest and stopped in her tracks. She surveyed the area and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Astarion, tell me you didn’t.”
“Did what, darling?” He sounded smug and you looked over at him. His expression matched his tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.
“I fucking knew this would happen,” Karlach said, coming down from her laughing fit. “Soldier’s had her eye on you for a while now, Fangs.”
“Karlach!” You whisper-shouted.
“Oh, I’m aware,” you felt Astarion turn his head to look at you. 
Suddenly Gale, Lae’zel, and Wyll joined the fray. Scratch ran to them and happily weaved between them as they emerged. 
“We heard a commotion, did you find them?” Gale halted when he saw you and Astarion sitting together on the ground, him shirtless, you wearing his shirt. “No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes,” Astarion said, tilting his head against yours. You gave him a dirty look. 
“Chk! Was that filthy nest of our blankets your doing?” Lae’zel asked, cradling her greatsword proudly. 
You groaned and hid your face in your hands again. 
“It would appear so,” Wyll confirmed awkwardly. 
“You vampires have a disgusting way of mating if that nest was any indication,” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air judgmentally. “Far too soft.”
Astarion scoffed and pulled back from you. “I’ll have you know that vampires mate in the most satisfying- well, we don’t mate, necessarily, we’re not dogs, but we, well at least I, am always an exemplary lover.”
Shadowheart ignored him and walked forward, crouching down and resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“What?” you laughed in disbelief. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“He didn’t… coerce you into something, did he?”
“Excuse me?” Astarion sounded insulted. “I always ask permission first, darling.”
“Your charms can be quite overwhelming at times, Astarion,” Gale said. 
“And wouldn’t you like having my charms turned on you, wizard,” Astarion sneered. 
“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Wyll held up his hands, gesturing for the others to relax.
“Everyone!” You raised your voice. All eyes settled on you. “Nothing happened between us that I didn’t expressly and happily agree to.”
Karlach started chuckling again. “Good for you, Soldier.”
“Thank you, Karlach,” said Astarion. 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
He shrugged. “What?”
You groaned and stood up, wiping grass and forest debris off your clothes. You adjusted Astarion’s shirt on your shoulders, making sure you weren’t showing off too much to your companions. 
“Is there a reason you all came out here? Or was it just to mortify me? Because mission accomplished!”
“It’s midday,” informed Wyll. “We grew worried when the two of you seemingly vanished and didn’t return.”
“Halsin and the tieflings are coming to camp tonight to celebrate our victory against the goblins,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 
“Yes, and it wouldn’t be a great look if our leader and the gangly one were missing,” Gale said.
“Gangly?!” Astarion exclaimed, very clearly not gangly. 
“You’re- okay, well, I hadn’t seen you shirtless before now,” Gale amended. 
“Like what you see?” Astarion teased. 
“Astarion,” you scolded. 
He sighed and got up, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip. 
You went red as you watched your companions track his hand. 
“Listen, people,” Astarion said, sounding serious. 
You saw your companions’ eyes shift to the vampire. 
“Don’t give her a hard time. This was my doing.” Shadowheart was about to say something but Astarion raised his voice a bit. “While yes, she gave permission in everything that we did, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested it in the first place.”
“I could have suggested something much better, surely,” Lae’zel huffed.
“I mean, did you-?” Karlach thrust her hips in the air with her fists at her sides.
“Oh my gods,” you groaned.
“I don’t kiss and tell, darling,” Astarion said, squeezing your hip slightly. 
Karlach smirked smugly and winked at you both. 
You shook your head and looked up, silently begging any god that was listening to kill you and to do it quickly. 
“We should get back to camp,” Wyll suggested diplomatically. “Let these two collect themselves.” 
“So what does this mean?” Shadowheart asked, ignoring Wyll. 
“Shadowheart,” Wyll warned but she waved him off.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“Are you only going to sleep with the pathetic vampire moving forward?” Lae’zel stated bluntly.
You and Astarion looked at each other. You saw the slightest flash of uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. “If he’ll let me,” you said. 
A small smile appeared on his face in return.
Lae’zel groaned. “K'chakhi. Your loss.” She turned and walked back into the forest, slinging her greatsword over her back.
You bit your lip, feeling guilty about Lae’zel’s feelings, but Karlach soon slid into your vision. “Congrats, you crazy kids,” she laughed and pretended to punch your arm, then followed on Lae’zel’s heels, Scratch bounding close behind her.
Gale walked over, his face stoic. He stood in front of Astarion and held out his hand. 
Astarion scowled. “What is this, do you want some sort of handout?” 
“I want to shake your hand, you buffoon,” Gale sounded frustrated. 
“Gale…” you said sorrowfully. 
“No no, think nothing of it,” he waved you off. “The right man won out in the end.”
Astarion took his hand and shook it. “Better luck next time,” he jeered. 
“Astarion,” you scolded again. “You both know I’m not something to win, right?”
“Of course you’re not,” Gale nodded. “Apologies, I misspoke. I’ll see you both at camp. Lunch is bread and cheese to save room for tonight’s festivities.” He stiffly turned and walked back towards the trees. Wyll gave him a sympathetic look, then caught your eye. He nodded somewhat sadly and followed after Gale. 
“Well that certainly doesn’t feel good,” you said, holding a hand to your chest and breathing deeply.
“Not quite finished yet, love,” Astarion nodded over towards Shadowheart who lingered nearby. 
She approached slowly, holding her hands behind her back. Astarion released your hip and moved away, sensing what Shadowheart aimed to do. You looked at him curiously, but your attention was drawn back to Shadowheart as she threw her arms around your neck. 
“You’re happy?” She asked softly.
“Shadowheart…” you smiled into her hair. “Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”
She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, double checking your expression. When she saw that you were genuine, she nodded. She cleared her throat and looked over at Astarion. 
She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Hurt her, and you will never know a happy day again.”
Astarion held up his hands defensively. “I won’t-”
“You have never known the pain of Lady Shar’s wrath, and you’d be smart to keep it that way, so help me gods, Astarion.”
“I got it,” he said flatly. 
“Our Lady of Loss would not hesitate to strike you where you stand-”
“I think he gets it,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”
Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before she looked back at you. “I’ll see you at camp. Don’t dally.” She looked pointedly at Astarion who shrugged helplessly. 
When she headed back into the forest, you and Astarion were finally alone. 
You let out a heavy sigh.
“That was a lot,” Astarion joined you at your side.
“Wait, did you know those people?” you smirked at him.
“Vaguely,” he smirked back and caught you in a kiss. “At least I don’t have to hold back from doing that at camp now.” He held you close in his arms.
You sighed again and laid your head on his shoulder. “You were right. I didn’t realize so many of them felt something for me.”
“That seems to be because you block out the advances of others.”
You shoved him playfully. “How dare you turn my pitiful backstory against me.”
He smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go dismantle that ‘disgusting’ nest.” He did his best to impersonate Lae’zel on “disgusting.” 
It made you laugh. “Okay.”
You took his hand and let him lead you through the trees back to the blankets and pillows that you’d spent the night on. 
When you arrived, you picked up your shirt and bra, feeling mild embarrassment that the others had probably seen them and drawn (correct) conclusions. You removed Astarion’s shirt and threw it back at him, hitting him in the face and quickly covered your chest with your forearm. 
Astarion laughed as his shirt fell into his awaiting hands. “Darling, you don’t have to hide from me,” he narrowed his eyes seductively. “I’ve already seen it all.” He tossed the shirt aside and made his way over to you.
“Feels different in the light of day,” you admitted self-consciously. “Worse, I guess.”
“Now, now,” he said, gently pulling your arm away from your chest, “let me see you in the daylight.” You allowed him to move your arm but didn’t look at him. “Lovely,” he breathed, and kissed you hard. 
You inhaled in surprise, but immediately gave in and slipped your tongue into his mouth and your arms over his shoulders. His hand came up and began massaging your left breast, his icy touch sending a shock wave through you and making you moan. 
Instantly, you pulled away and took a step back. “Careful,” you said as Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, his hand frozen in the air where he’d been palming your breast, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”
He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a dry heave. “Stop being so nice to me,” he avoided your gaze. “It makes me want to… be nice back.”
“Gods forbid,” you laughed, and bent to pick up your bra which had fallen back amongst the pillows. 
All of a sudden, you found yourself face down in the blankets, the wind knocked out of you and Astarion’s body weight pressed firmly on top of you.
“Astarion,” you wheezed, “what are you doing?”
His voice was sultry in your ear, “If you’ll remember, I said I wanted to take my time with you.”
Sexy as that was, you couldn’t breathe. You reached behind yourself and smacked Astarion’s back with your palm. “Living creatures need to breathe, idiot!”
“Oh,” he realized his error and rolled off of you. You had no time to adjust yourself before he flipped you over and hovered above you on his hands and knees. 
You blew some hair out of your face, irritated. “Did you just tackle me like I was some sort of prey?”
“My dear, I would never,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck.
“And yet I find myself on the ground, even though I didn’t put myself here,” you tangled your hands in his hair, your voice wobbly. 
“You’ve always been rather clumsy,” he murmured teasingly. 
You took a deep breath and pushed him away. His lips were still puckered, making you giggle. “Shadowheart told us not to dally,” you reminded him. “And she threatened to kill you, what? Three times?”
“You forget that I’m already dead,” he smiled. “What’s another little death?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
You snorted. “Bad.”
“I thought that was rather clever, actually.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. “We should really head back.”
Astarion whined and hung his head. “Let me have you again, woman!”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said!” He lifted his head and looked you in the eye. “And while I appreciate your concern, right now, I very much want to be inside of you again.”
You smiled cautiously. “Are you sure?”
He rolled his eyes and kissed you, lowering his body to roll his hips against yours and making his erection very obviously. You jolted at the unexpected sensation and he pulled back.
“Unless this is too much for you,” he searched your face for hesitancy. “You’re probably still sore and we don’t have to rush anything-”
You gripped the back of his head and tightened your fist into his curls. “Please,” you whispered, “fuck me again.”
A wicked grin bloomed on Astarion’s face and he kissed you passionately, rolling his hips against yours for friction. You moaned into his mouth, but he broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Like I said, love, I want to take my time with you.”
He rose up onto his knees and began untying the laces of your pants. You watched him intently and bit your lip as he removed them fully from your legs. He made quick work of his own and crawled back on top of you. His thumb hooked under your panties and his eyes met yours. You nodded and he pulled them down gently and discarded them close by. He then laid beside you, his eyes heavy with lust.
“Come here, precious thing,” he purred and you inched yourself closer to him. “Turn around,” he instructed. You gave him a confused half smile but did what he asked. He reached forward and pulled your hips back, causing you to feel his still-clothed cock against your ass.
“What are you doing?” you asked nervously. 
Astarion chuckled. “Not that, fear not.” He kissed your shoulder as he slid his left arm under you and settled his hand on your lower stomach. A chill ran through you as he nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “Fair warning,” you could hear the mischief in his voice as his right hand made itself known in front of your face. He wiggled his fingers in a delicate wave, then brought it down between your thighs. 
A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his fingers swipe through your folds.
Astarion tilted his head and kissed your throat. “So wet already, darling.”
“You’re handsome,” you said by way of explanation.
He hummed against your shoulder and began to rub your clit. A shuddering breath left your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut. Astarion paused for a moment to lift your leg and hike it back over his. “This will feel good,” he said against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds again before inserting a digit into your cunt. 
You threw your head back in surprised pleasure, which made Astarion turn and nip at your ear. He began pumping and curling his finger slowly inside of you. Your breath caught when his thumb resumed its spot on your clit and whined when his finger inside of you hit a particularly sensitive spot. He adjusted his angle to hit it repeatedly. 
“Astarion,” you moaned, your head clouded with nothing but ecstasy. 
“Yes, my sweet, you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice was sensual in your ear. “Do you think you can take a little more?”
You nodded, your eyes shut tight. 
“Words, darling.”
“Another…” you said breathily.
“Another what?”
Your voice was sing-songy. “Astarion, if you don’t put another finger in me right now, I’m leaving you.”
He laughed loudly before moving his mouth close to your ear again. “You like me too much.” Then he leaned up a little to catch your eye, his finger still pumping between your thighs. “Right?”
You smiled sympathetically, seeing your words had spooked him a little. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you clarified. “But I might kill you.”
“Got it,” Astarion dragged his index finger through your folds, then carefully added it to your cunt alongside his middle finger. 
You exhaled, moving your hand down from his cheek to his hand resting on your stomach. You laced your fingers together and squeezed when he hit a particularly good spot, getting you to moan out an, “Oh, gods.”
“Like that?” He asked cockily, reaching and curling to hit the spot again. 
“Yes, my love,” you sighed, grinning upwards with your eyes closed. 
Behind you, you felt Astarion’s cock twitch.
Your eyes opened and you looked back at him. 
He smiled back at you sheepishly. “It does that sometimes, darling. When something is particularly arousing.”
Your breaths were coming out short and keeping in time with the pumping of his fingers. “Was it… ‘my love?’”
Astarion let out a low moan and hid his face in your shoulder before reemerging and nodding. “Coming from you while you’re in the throes of passion with me is really… something.”
You laughed between whimpers. “My… loooooove,” you sang, squeezing his hand again. “Your fingers feel heavenly, my looooove.”
“Fuck this,” Astarion said, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously and curling you forward with his body so he could shimmy out of his underwear. 
“What are you doing,” you winced and whined childishly, “I was so close!”
“Unfortunately, darling, if I’m not inside you within a matter of seconds, I’m going to lose it completely.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” you said, half dazed and still coming down from your almost climax. 
You felt his hand bump your ass as he pumped his cock and you instantly went stiff. “You’re not going to…?”
Astarion let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, my sweet, you’re not nearly ready for something like that yet.”
A relieved sigh escaped you. 
“We could always work our way up-”
“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly. 
“There’s nothing wrong with-”
“No, of course not-”
“But we can-”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” you patted Astarion’s cheek.
“Understood,” he nodded and resumed pumping his cock. “Hook your leg back over mine, darling.” When you followed his instruction, he kissed your shoulder once more. You felt the head of his cock glide through your folds until it prodded at your entrance and you let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t be scared,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “Are you ready?”
You inhaled. “Yes.”
Just as he had last night, Astarion was slow to enter you. This time you heard him whimpering with his mouth so close to your ear. 
“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his fangs from your shoulder to your neck, “still so tight.”
“Obviously,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut, but not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you had the first time he’d entered you. You let out a satisfied exhale when his hips bumped your ass. 
“Let me know what I can move,” Astarion said against your skin, his words barely recognizable. 
“You can move,” you said almost immediately, reaching a hand up behind you and twisting it into Astarion’s hair. You moved it over a little to play with the tip of his ear.
He let out a loud groan and snapped his hips forward, probably with more force than he meant to. “Apologies,” he whispered, “that felt heavenly.”
“Keep going, my love,” you encouraged and he caught your eye with a seductive smile. 
He continued to pump his cock into your dripping hole and brought his right hand down to your clit. He licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. “You know, I really did intend to take my time with you just now,” he spoke lowly from the back of his throat. As if to illustrate his point, he slowed his hips to take long, languid strokes out, and then moved back into you at an equally slow pace. His thumb on your clit slowed as he disconnected his left hand from yours and brought it up to fondle your breast. He kissed up your shoulder to your neck sloppily and sucked on the fading bite marks from last night. 
You moaned loudly, hooking your foot around his calf and tightening your fist in his hair. “We’d really be dallying, then,” you commented.
He made a frustrated noise. “Don’t even allude to the cleric right now,” he pulled away from your neck. “Unless it’s to tell me I’m a much better lover than her.” He snapped his hips into you, hard. 
“I don’t have much of a reference, genius,” you responded breathlessly. 
“Right,” he said, and picked up speed at your clit. His mouth returned to sucking on your throat. 
“Oohhh,” you sighed. You let out a gasp when Astarion’s left hand pinched your nipple.
“You feel wonderful, my darling,” spit connected him to your neck.
“So do you,” you brought your hand up to cover Astarion’s that was kneading your breast. “You can bite me, if you want.”
He groaned loudly and bumped his nose against your jaw. “Well,” he said between thrusts, “if you insist.” 
He kissed your throat before biting down, his hips instantly picking up speed. 
The ice that shot into your veins was a shock as always, but melted into a fuzzy pleasure that had your eyes drooping in ecstasy. 
Astarion took long pulls of your blood as he continued thrusting, circling your clit, and needing your breast. How he was keeping track of everything at once was beyond you in this pleasant, foggy state. 
“Darling,” he pulled away suddenly, swallowing loudly and seemingly out of breath. “May I taste you as you come?”
Your tongue lolled to the side, but his voice snapped you out of it. You nodded up at him. “Yes, please.”
“What do you need?” He licked the wounds on your neck. 
“As much as I’m enjoying you taking your time,” you said, “harder and faster.”
“Easy,” a cocky grin graced his face as a drop of your blood dripped down his chin. 
His hips picked up a brutal pace that nearly had you reaching your peak, and he pressed further onto your clit, his tight circles picking up speed as well. 
“Oh, Astarion,” you moaned loudly, reaching back again to grip his hair.
“Come for me, dearest,” he spoke softly against your throat, but loud enough that you could hear, “I want to hear you sing again. I want to taste how sweet your blood is when I make you cum on my cock.” He continued leaving sloppy kisses against your neck.
“I’m close,” you confirmed, your eyes shut tight and your body tensing. 
“Go ahead, love, I’ve got you,” his hard thrusts were becoming uneven, but ever the professional, his voice remained mostly even. “You’re so tight and warm, thank you for letting me taste you.” He kissed your mouth. “Darling.” Another kiss. “Beloved.” One more. “Mine.”
You cried out as you fell over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock repeatedly, only to cry out again as you felt Astarion’s fangs enter your neck once more. 
“Astarion!” You shouted, squeezing his hand and pulling his hair and wrapping your shaking leg around his. Almost simultaneously, you felt Astarion spill inside you as he moaned your name loudly into your neck, his hips pulsing clumsily against you. 
The sensation of him drawing your blood was still pleasantly fuzzy, but you could feel yourself becoming light headed. You tapped his arm twice, your signal for him to stop, and he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your temple and breathing heavily. 
“Still cumming,” he groaned and clenched his teeth, his hips faltering in their rhythm. 
After another moment, his body finally relaxed and he pulled you closer into his chest, catching his breath. “That was… amazing,” he sighed happily, leaning forward to lick the remaining blood from your neck. “If I knew blood could taste that good-” His voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure I’d do something about it if I could.” He seemed pleased with his own answer and hummed contentedly behind you.
“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you said, looking back at him with a smile. He bent forward and kissed you happily. “I’m like a fine vintage,” you teased.
Astarion pursed his lips. “You’re far from vintage, darling, you’ll have to work on your wine related japes.” 
You laughed and a comfortable silence fell between you. Astarion rested both of his hands on your stomach. Which growled suddenly.
“What’s that like?” He teased, licking a wayward drop of blood from the side of his mouth. 
Your body tensed. “Oh gods, bread and cheese!”
Astarion blinked at you. “Are those some sort of new deities I’m not aware of, or-?”
“No, that’s what Gale said we’re having for lunch.”
“And that’s important because-?”
“Because we DALLIED and there’s a PARTY tonight and now Shadowheart is going to KILL us.”
“I see.” Astarion remained still, fixed in place. Then suddenly he was pulling out of you at a breakneck speed and reaching for his clothes. 
You winced a little at the sensation but scrambled for your own clothes, wiping yourself down with the cloth Astarion provided again and got dressed in what was probably record time. 
Incredibly, you both looked presentable. 
“We do make a gorgeous pair,” Astarion cocked his hip and smirked at you, going in for a kiss.
You swatted him away. “Enough flirting, loverboy, we can talk about us later!” You started reaching for blankets and pillows. 
“Us,” Astarion stood on the sidelines, testing out the word on his tongue. “I do so like the sound of that.”
“Help me, would you?” You threw a pile of blankets at him, hitting him in the face and blowing his hair back. 
He groaned. “It should be a crime to rush after you’ve just made love to the most amazing woman.” He came up behind you and smacked your butt teasingly. 
You stood up straight and tried to look angry. “We are going to die if we don’t head back right now.” Astarion wasn’t buying your anger, so you turned bashful. “You made loooove to me?” You clasped your hands together by your face. “You think I’m amaaaazing?” You twirled some of your hair for good measure.
Astarion sighed. “Be serious, woman, we’re going to die!” His voice was exasperated but he smirked at you. He bent to pick up more blankets and pillows and you did the same until you both had piles you could barely see over and nothing was left behind.
“Ugh, I’m going to have to do so much laundry,” you muttered. “Seriously, how did you manage bringing all this out here?”
“Well first, everything was folded neatly.”
“We don’t have time.”
“And second, multiple trips, darling.”
“We can’t afford to leave camp EVER again.”
Try as you might to rush back to camp, you still had to maneuver through a forest and be careful where you stepped. The pair of you moved as quickly as you could, which wasn’t as fast as was probably necessary to avoid Shadowheart’s ire. 
“Soooo…” You broke the silence after a few moments. 
“Gods,” Astarion rolled his eyes, “what?”
“‘My love,’ huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him.
“What about it?”
“You liiiiiiked it,” you teased. 
“I-” You could see that he thought about arguing but decided not to. “I’m not used to the pet names turned on me. It’s… nice.”
“You’re cute,” you said, looking over at him affectionately and nearly tripping over a tree root as a result.
Astarion snickered, then made his face serious. “I’m the furthest thing from cute. I’m a horrifying monster.” He lowered his voice as if that would back him up.
“Yeah, but you like being mushy.” 
“I do not.”
“You do!” You moved closer to him and bumped his hip with your own. “You were so sweet to me yesterday. And just now.” 
“It’s different with you,” he said quietly.
“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows.
“It’s… um… This is stupid, I hate it.” He tried to walk ahead of you but you caught up easily.
“No, no! Please.” You gave him a reassuring look. “I, of all people, will not judge you.”
He sighed. “It’s just… nice to feel like something is mine.” He was quick to correct, “Not that I own you but… I don’t know. You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just… one night it’s better to forget. You’re something entirely new.”
You smiled over at him. “I like you too, weirdo.”
Astarion humphed. “Whatever.” He moved closer and bumped your hip with his own. The two of you shared a fond look, then turned back to the path ahead.
If Shadowheart was going to kill you, at least you’d die together. 
You both quickened your pace to try and avoid that fate, but it was a lovely thought.
Soon, you began to make out the bright colors of your tents through the trees and the sound of your companions chatting by the fire. 
You turned to Astarion. “See you on the other side.”
He nodded, determined. “It’s been a pleasure servicing you, darling.”
“I hope she kills you first.”
You shared a laugh before you took a calming breath. 
And stepped into camp. 
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gulls-art · 11 months ago
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I survived finals so have some more evil robots/ sketches
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lord-squiggletits · 8 months ago
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I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.
I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.
The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...
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Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.
I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.
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And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?
It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.
To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.
In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.
Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.
So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.
What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.
Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?
#squiggposting#pharma apologism#i'm sure the doylist reason for the writing is just that pharma was a designated villain#so since he's a villain and 'crazy' it's fine for everyone even the good guys to treat him like complete trash#i just think from a watsonian perspective taking a sympathetic approach is way more interesting and logically consistent#what i mean is like. from a meta perspective one of the best ways to show that a character is super evil and not worth saving#is when even the good guy heroes. the ones who are supposed to be kind and compassionate and wise. see him as dirt#and this is also kind of a necessity in most plots bc TF is the kind of series that just needs action villains and long-term antagonists#so not every villain is written or has a plot to be made redeemable. and pharma is one of these bc he's not important or a legacy character#so from a doylist (meta) perspective you could read the autobots' disregard of pharma as a sign of#'this guy is not meant to have your sympathy as a reader. pay no attention to him'#but from a watsonian (in universe) perspective it paints a miserable picture of pharma being utterly forsaken by the ppl he served alongsid#and like yeah i'm super autistic about pharma so of course i view him with sympathy but like#the idea of being a loyal and good person for years only to be subjected to a Torment Nexus of#being blackmailed into breaking all of the oaths you held sacred. under threat of you and all your comrades dying horrible torturous deaths#then when your comrades find out about it they focus solely on the 'harvesting organs' and not on the 'blackmail' part#and then you get literally left for dead by your comrades and best friend hating your guts#and then you get rescued by a guy who uses you as a test subject for his evil machine#this is a fucking nightmare scenario like pharma could hardly be suffering more if the author TRIED to make him suffer#and for me it's like. the evil pharma did can't be decontextualized to what drove him to that. as well as the question of like#how easily ppl can write someone off as evil and turn a blind eye to (or even find satisfaction in) their suffering bc theyre evil#and either brought it on themselves or it's just karma paying a visit#like. i feel like if pharma WERE a shitty doctor and a terrible person his whole life then the delphi situation would feel like karma#but the way it's written and the lore retroactively put in makes it feel more pharma getting thrown in a torture carousel#and THEN becoming evil. but then being treated as if he was always evil or was some sort of bad apple#bc like i'm not opposed to LOLing when a villain gets a karmic torture/death related to the wrongs they committed#but in pharma's case it feels less like karma and more like endless torture + being abandoned by ppl who should have been more loyal
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inkly-heart · 6 months ago
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please don’t be sad little sprout, you are loved 🌱 🖤
🌱
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helltigon · 4 months ago
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Okay so people always talk about how Husk must be strong or Angel is really light (even Vaggie lifts him over her head) but also Angel is incredibly strong because he can fire six guns without the recoil affecting him. Angel can also hold an Entire Charlie in the air (Vaggie is also able to carry an Entire Charlie... and Sir Pentious)
Muscle is pretty dense and we know Angel would need to be pretty muscular to pole dance
I would like to posit Angel isn't very light, rather Husk and Vaggie are just Terrifyingly Strong.
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colorful-bees · 7 months ago
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Volo's friendship story in the Trainer's Lodge is so interesting to me because it seemingly contradicts his usual way of thinking. He asks to take a commemorative photo with you in the event that the world disappears, obviously referring to what he wants to eventually accomplish in the future.
And I can only wonder why he does this. His exact words afterwards are, "Please remember me as you've seen me during our time together." He plans on erasing the world to build a better one, as per is goal in P:LA but the idea that he would want you to remember him as you knew him, someone who was simply friendly and nice to you, goes against how he views relationships with people. There's no transactional value to taking this photo with you nor is there for him wanting you to remember him fondly.
Volo is overly nice to people to get what he wants out of them, that's kind of his thing. You see it with the protag in P:LA, you see it with Jacq and Trevor, and later with Lear in the Mysterious Stones chapter. He likes to get in people's good books so that he might get something out of it later. But what does he want out of you in this interaction? What is he hoping to gain by telling you to remember him the way he is now? He plans on destroying the world and so... he asks to take a photo with you? I can only imagine that he wants it for himself since if the world disappears, you won't even be there to remember him in the first place. He plans on destroying the world and you won't even be there and yet, he still asks you to remember him.
I don't think Volo necessarily lied when he said, "It's just a matter of using them before they use you." Those were thoughts inside his head, he has no one to lie to there; that's what he truly believes. However, I do think there's a disconnect between the kind of person Volo is and the kind of person Volo believes himself to be.
I think maybe he does love his Pokemon, maybe he even wants to be your friend. I don't think he knows that though. His genuine view of himself is that he feels no love or care for others and relationships are just a means to an end and that is mostly how he comes across when showing his true colors. But he has moments that don't quite line up with that. He wants you to remember him fondly. He considers Pokemon tools and yet, there's that photo of him and Togepi. It's these two moments that make me question things. He looks after Togepi and in return, Togepi sticks by his side; that's their trade-off, what they both get out of their relationship. But the photo is what throws me off. If there wasn't even a little bit of love for Togepi, why does that photo exist? Why did he take it? Volo in this same conversation says, "Photos are wonderful things! They allow you to capture and isolate the best moments!" Why take a photo with something you don't love? Why consider that one of your "best moments?"
Volo honestly believes that he doesn't love his Pokemon and that he's no one's friend. That isn't a mask he's putting on, that's who he thinks he is and I can only assume that the reason for this is due to whatever event happened in his past that set him down this road to begin with. But he has these small moments that contradict that view of himself. Volo does have a capacity to care for his Pokemon, to have friends. I just don't think he realizes that. He's incapable of recognizing if he loves or even likes someone in a genuine way; so caught up in viewing every relationship like it's a barter or a trade that he has no idea that he can care and that maybe, at some points, does.
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buddietommys · 4 months ago
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"Do you think we're soulmates in every universe?"
"Are we even soulmates in this one?"
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kiisuuumii · 21 days ago
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@kiisuuumii (a former anorexic isn't eating and a hypersomniac can't sleep but at least there is this)
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incorrect-jojolands-quotes · 8 months ago
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Hot take but I think what we saw in chapter 13 was necessary.
I don't think a lot of people realize how important it is for Araki to portray what he did, even if it extremely difficult to take in. Let me explain.
Araki has discussed about topics like racial and class disparity through both Steel Ball Run and Jojolion, but JOJOLands is different because the discussions are now very direct. We had Chapter 1 open up with police brutality and Chapter 13 open with intense bullying; both acts were committed by people of higher social standing/power and seemingly White (or white passing) and both are harming a dark-skinned queer individual. Not only that, remember that Hawai'i is an island stolen and colonized by the US and many indigenous individuals who were supposed to live and maintain kapu are being forced to endure housing problems, loss of culture, etc. due to gentrification and exploitation of its lands. 2020 was when we saw global protest towards the deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor due to police brutality, which has spread as far as Japan in terms of demonstrations and rallies. Araki has made it clear that he tries to take real world experience into his writing, and this is no different. He is also no stranger to portraying law enforcement throughout his parts without glorifying or downplaying their behavior.
As a mutual of mine (who themselves identify as a black GNC individual based in US) has put it, those who identify or even appear as Black while identifying as trans-femme or women are subjected to some of the worse kinds of oppression possible in America. Queer women of Color are one of the most susceptible to sexual violence-- especially when they are young, and the darkness of their skin really plays into it. This is transmisogynoir; it is a hard pill to swallow and acknowledge, even if it feels excessive, and its a multilayer of oppression that connects a person's racial identity, gender, and sexuality as targets of discrimination. It's the fact that one is POC, a woman, AND queer that makes one a target--- not just one or the other. You can’t turn a blind eye to this because it happen constantly throughout America's history and American society even today, but you can't simply water it down or downplay it. In fact, many victims of transmisogynoir have no choice but to downplay their experiences because of their Black identities or because they appear too dark to be taken seriously; when they, especially if they are Black, try to hold people in power accountable, these individuals are suddenly labeled aggressive, indignant, etc. and they are further discriminated for attempting to speak up. Dragona downplaying the bullying isn't them just trying to avoid further conflict but a reflection of how many who were in similar situations like Dragona are forced to simply forgive and forget the trauma they have to endure. To downplay it ourselves is reinforcing the narrative that individuals like Dragona in real life should remain silent and endure their harassment rather than rightfully protect themselves and others from it.
Another thing to add is that the way Japan portrays and treats the LGBTQ community, particularly the trans community. In Japan, the process to legally change your gender is complicated and requires a lot of steps that include, but not limited to, being diagnosed with gender identity disorder, proving you have no kids/guardianships, and sterilization. This causes a lot of individuals to be forced to quickly transition as a means of getting their gender recognized, which takes away the time to let them explore at their own pace, and this is due to how the process can lead to hindering career and life opportunities that wouldn't be hindered had they already transitioned or stayed closeted. Many Japanese trans individuals unable to go through the process quickly either remain closeted or move away from Japan to transition at their own pace. So, as a result, the trans community and its struggles is not as noticed compared to outside of Japan. Another thing to add is that the trans community in Japanese media is often portrayed as comedic relief or a gag. Oftentimes, the trans character or character who diverts from gender conformity (i.e cross-dressing, acting more flamboyant) is the butt of the jokes. Some thing to note is that, when Dragona was first introduced, a lot of people thought that Araki put Dragona in simply for comedic purposes. I had people joke about how Dragona is just there because they believed Araki is trolling. Not only that, the racial issues that Japan has often results in jokes towards non-Japanese individuals in media, especially if they are of darker skin color.
So, Araki putting Dragona in these difficult situations is also meant to subvert expectations that his Japanese, and possibly Western, audience may be expecting. The expectation was to laugh and toss Dragona aside as a single-dimensional character, but Araki instead forced us to face the trauma through Dragona's experience head-on. We are made aware of Dragona's situation, how real and difficult the struggle is, and we end up emphasizing with it rather than laughing at it. Through this, we get a glimpse into real life experiences of trans POCs without it being downplayed and have it show how Dragona is a fleshed-out character with importance to the series. As some have put it, this chapter proved that Dragona isn't just a side character but arguably a complex individual on the same level of importance as Jodio. I don't think it would have been easy to have the same impact if another approach was taken.
While talking to others who identify as trans and/or GNC about their thoughts on the chapter, I was told by many of them that, while Dragona's experience hits close to home and was hard to digest, they appreciate seeing it being expressed and hope it will help other people understand their struggles. One noted how the introduction of Smooth Operators with the backstory as empowering, seeing the Stand as a symbol of surviving the trauma that comes with trans discrimination. I do find this a bit telling with how many people online who are against Araki's portrayal barely mention what trans/GNC people have said about it.
My main concern, as well as what I see people have rightfully critiqued, is the excessive trauma reinforcing the fetishization and violent voyeurism towards trans individuals; it also reinforces the problematic narrative that dysmorphia can only happen as a result of trauma and the trans experience can only be full of pain. There's also the issue that Dragona's experience also happened while they were under age and their harassment is similar to that of Lucy. It's a common trope in Western media to put marginalized people into these situations while upping the ante simply for clicks and pleasure, and even worse when the character portrayed is a minor. As I reiterate, it is a very uncomfortable chapter to read and I don't find it enjoyable at the slightest. Just because I understand why it is necessary doesn't mean I condone the approach done. I also understand Araki as a Japanese man can only relate and portray a queer American's experience to an extent. But, at the same time, the exposure was necessary because it gives us the awareness and a voice to trans people that is lacking within media even today. We need to be aware and acknowledge what our BIPOC trans community goes through as a means of being better humans--- and especially our younger community members. We need to make our society safer for them so they can thrive and have the respect they deserve. Oftentimes, that starts with how they are portrayed and how their experiences are portrayed. While it is still a journey and not every representation will be perfect, we can't simply toss it aside and bash those who try to show something realistic just because it is uncomfortable.
I only hope that Araki wrote Dragona and these scenes as a result of doing extensive research and reaching out to actual POC queer individuals, particularly transfemmes/women, to understand their experiences and have their blessings to use their words to shape Dragona. I feel like that would show that Araki was serious about discussing these issues through his characters rather than simply using Dragona's traumatic experience it for entertainment. I have higher expectations for Araki now, knowing that it may not be the last time he shows a character experience harassment and possibly have Dragona be harassed again, so I will keep my eyes open for this.
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lousysharkbutt · 4 months ago
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Hi! :D I have a question about joining your patreon if that's okay! I plan on joining in a few days when it's July, but there was a safety concern I have about something. Do you prefer to be emailed or to be reached out through tumblr dms or the inbox? Or do you prefer I tell you in Patreon dms when I join? Thank you so much ;u;
hi, no problem!! i do emails and reply to patreon dms all the time :) i generally don't reply to dms on other socials anymore bc it's just too much so one of those two is your best bet! thanks!
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codenameregnar · 1 month ago
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Who do I talk to about commissioning a painting of a string of spit and precum pulling away from Garak’s open mouth
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chronic-cynic · 9 months ago
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Maybe this doesn't mean anything and is a bit silly, but it matters to me. Remember when Toritsuka had to fast for three days and Saiki made him hallucinate that very buff man? Remember how much he hated that? Despite disliking men strongly, during the episode where Kusuke uses Toritsuka as a hostage, he doesn't even think twice before taking Saiki's power limiter from where it is on Kusuke.
Okay, that's all.
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mispatchedgreens · 1 year ago
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hello to the other five ppl in here, the premise is 'we got reincarnated and we're inexplicably drawn to each other and we hate each other and we're best friends and we're a weird-atmospheric-dreampop-electronic-house musical duo'
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flovey-dovey · 10 months ago
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AU if Emmet somehow poofed into Hisui same as Ingo but also, same as Ingo, forgor everything but his name...
Emmet: Hello! I am Emmet. I'm not entirely sure why I'm here, but I believe there's someone I'm trying to track down. He's verrrrry important to me (I think)!
Ingo: Hello Emmet, I am Ingo. I also have no memory of where I came from. It's strange, but now that you bring it up I feel like I might be missing someone important to me too...
Emmet: Oh?
Ingo: Yes... Well, I hope you find him. It's been a pleasure meeting you. Take care and drive safely!
Emmet: You too! All aboard!
Everyone else:
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