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petit-etoile · 1 year ago

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in the moonlight (my darling, do not fear)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4184 content warnings: mentions of injuries, no in-depth descriptions, minor spoilers for astarion's act ii romance other tags: canon-typical violence, canon complaint, hurt/comfort, whump, developing relationship, love confessions, gender neutral tav, elf!tav archiveofourown: here. sentence prompt: "you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left." — from here. summary: defeating the orthon is no small task. the hardest part is what comes after.

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‘No!’ he shouts, and it’s so loud it echoes on the edges of your mind. ‘You can’t die.’

I’m not dying, you think but the words never leave your lips. In the depths of your consciousness, you can faintly remember the battle with the Orthon. Karlach had killed the displacer beast, hadn’t she? Shadowheart had blinded the Merregon… You remember violent flashes of light and the shaking of the Gauntlet. Trying to remember takes too much energy, and thinking about opening your eyes makes your stomach roll.

‘Get up, damn you!’ Astarion snaps harshly.

He paws at your desperately, shifting rock and ruin, and when he presses his hands to your side, stars flutter behind your eyelids so violently all you can do is moan. It’s your turn to shove at him. You push at his hands and feel your fingers glide against his skin. But I’m too tired, you want to say. I just want to sleep, to dream. Eventually, you give up your fight and relax into the darkness. Maybe when you awaken, the illithid parasite will be gone and you will be cured. You can only hope that it comes true.

Astarion has other plans for you. He curses your name so sweet it could be a perfectly mulled wine and leans forward. His ear tickles your lips, and whatever he hears come from it is enough to make him heave out a relieved sob. His hands are on your face again. His fingers are sticky, and they smell like powder. He jostles you so violently that you groan against your will, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to him.

Astarion rests his head against your chest right where your broken collarbone has begun to throb. You struggle to open your eyes and stare at the roof above you, but you don’t see the familiar ceiling of Shar’s Temple. The celestial glowing swirls have been blocked from sight by ugly granite floors. If you really put your mind to it, you can recognize Karlach’s desperate cries on the other side.

‘What happened?’ you whisper.

‘You were supposed to jump down!’ Astarion snarls. ‘Gods, why didn’t you jump down!’

The panic in his voice is enough to make you try harder to retrace your memories. You had plunged your blade into Yurgir’s chest but couldn’t manage to pull it out. It hadn’t killed him. Yurgir had laughed at you, had laughed at your friends — He had never hated anyone more at that moment.

It had taken the blade you kept on your hip to finally kill Yurgir. He had dropped bombs, you recall. It comes back to you easily now. Astarion had been right behind you and was going to follow you down, but you were so wounded he insisted on helping you jump away from the bombs before they exploded. But you hated heights, you hated the feeling of falling.

‘Scared,’ you admit.

‘Ha! Scared!’ Astarion repeats, tone pitching up in his hysteria. ‘Karlach was going to catch you!’

‘I couldn’t,’ you say. ‘I was scared. I couldn’t jump, I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Astarion.’

A shaky sob escapes his lips. ‘Don’t be sorry, my love,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t close your eyes again.’

A shudder of exhaustion runs throughout your body. You want to ask questions. You can feel them on the tip of your tongue, but moving your jaw is more work than you’re currently cut out for. Without craning your neck, you try to assess the damage.

The displacer beast’s claws had torn your sleeve. You remember how its teeth snapped shut close to your face, and how now matter how hard you tried to push it away, its thick neck kept you from escaping. Shadowheart had distracted it with a clone. Desperation had pushed you to follow Karlach up the steps so that you could fight the Orthon. For Raphael’s contract. For Astarion.

You do as you were commanded. You stare at the shaking, makeshift rooftop and blink dust from your eyes as it filters down like mocking snow. Astarion’s head feels particularly heavy at this moment. With a sudden, horrified realization, you fully come to terms with the situation you’ve found yourself in.

You are lying in a puddle of your own blood and too broken to move. Half of the floor you were standing on has fallen beneath you and blocked you from your allies, and the only one at your side is Astarion. It must be like death itself to sit there surrounded by blood while injured. He could heal himself if he drank. You raise your good hand and place it against his white-silver curls.

‘I know I usually offer first,’ you say sheepishly. ‘But if you need a drink — ’

‘Have you lost your gods-damned mind?’ Astarion hisses.

Before you can say anything else, he sits up and leans over you. You are easily distracted by his beautiful, marble-like complexion which is marred by the dirt and dust and blood. He’s beautiful.

Astarion’s cerise eyes are frantic. ‘I do not mean to alarm you, but you are dying.’

Like the ceiling’s fate above them, the reality of the situation comes crashing miserably down on top of you. Shadowheart’s spells cannot penetrate the wall that has come between you. You realize it now. You press your hand against the hole in your side delicately and laugh a little, staring at your fingers coated with blood. You close your eyes, but Astarion’s distressed whine has you search frantically for his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, horrified. ‘I’m sorry. I’m — Do not hate me.’

‘Please,’ Astarion begs. ‘Just stay awake. Stay with me. Karlach is trying to get through; All you have to do is stay awake, please.’

You search his face for some hint of comfort, but it’s hard to see through the dark spots knotting in your vision. You do your best to push away the panic, to force the tears back into your eyes. You don’t want to die, not yet. Raphael still has to translate the runes on Astarion’s back. Shadowheart wants to finish the gauntlet. You want to save Karlach’s heart, to absolve Wyll’s pact, to save Gale. Selfishly, you want to kiss Astarion again without any of that which comes after. You want to savor the weight of his mouth against yours.

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him again. You swallow harshly. ‘This must be like torture for you.’

Astarion chuckles hoarsely. ‘While you are very tantalizing, this is…nothing compared to two hundred years.’

You smile faintly. Two hundred years of carrion, and now you are laid out in front of him as delicious and forbidden as the feast Raphael offered you once. He ducks out of your view to lay his head on your chest. Though he tries to hide it, you can feel the little shudders of his sobs.

I’m sorry, you think to the ceiling. The weight of Astarion’s head against your shoulder is agonizing to your broken collarbone, but whatever he is doing, he is doing it with such reverence it reminds you of the religious devout and their steadfast adherence to their god.

He burrows his face into your chest, careful to stay small over you, to be mindful of your condition. He tries to balance his breathing so that it’s quieter and less disruptive, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot quell the frightened way his shoulders jump. You close your eyes for a moment just to memorize the sight of it.

‘No,’ he says suddenly, sitting up. ‘You promised. You cannot die, I forbid it. You said you would protect me, and you cannot do that if you are — Speak to me, damn you!’

‘’m awake,’ you say tiredly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘You cannot,’ Astarion insists.

‘Next time,’ you say, ‘I will jump.’

Astarion shakes his head, and little drops of his tears rain down on your skin. ‘It isn’t the smell of you that makes it hard,’ he confesses brokenly. ‘It isn’t even about the damned Infernal runes. It’s you, everything about you. What is left for a disease like me when someone like you goes away?’

‘You will lead them,’ you tell him.

Astarion’s nose wrinkles at the idea. ‘I am not particularly interested in being the face of a revolution,’ he says. ‘No matter how beautiful I am. I am still a sickness, a beast. You are the only one good enough to lead us.’

‘You are like a sickness, then. A horrible disease,’ you say, mindful of the way his eyes narrow. ‘The only way for me to be cured of you — to be the cure for you, is to let you consume me until my body has no fight left, Astarion.’

‘How dare you,’ he says with a coquettish shrug.

You can hear Karlach slowly working through the rest of the rubble now. You hate to feel too hopeful, but you can almost hear the sound of the shattered floor breaking free. They were coming to save you, to save him.

‘That was rather poetic, you know,’ Astarion tells you. He watches your face intently as if afraid he’ll miss out on something exceptional. ‘You’ve never been one to use such gorgeous words.’

‘I wanted to,’ you say softly. ‘For you, my love.’

Astarion’s eyes widen as those words fall seamlessly from your lips. You aren’t sure if he meant to say them earlier. After all, he’s only ever been fond of calling you darling or a delectable little treat, treating you recklessly with careful honeyed words. As if getting any closer to you might coax him into accidental oblivion where your name might leave his lips thus solidifying you as something to be treated with care. A pomegranate seed between his teeth.

The shock doesn’t stay for long. Your eyelashes flutter though you fight against it. The decaying darkness around your vision has almost reached the center. You cry faintly and press a hand against your side, horrified that your blood is still pouring from you even if it is slower now. Perhaps you are running out of blood. You want to tell Astarion to drink it all up before it’s mixed with the sulfur and ash, but words are hard to form. Your heart skips a beat.

Don’t let me go to waste, you beg helplessly, reaching out to his mind when yours is all but gone. A heart-wrenching sob erupts from his chest. When you next awake, there is relatively less action than what was happening before. There are no violent tremors of a floor threatening to collapse. The sound of frantic shoving is absent. There’s only a dim hum in your ears, and the sound of a hushed fire burning well into the evening. You slowly open your eyes and blink away your sleepiness.

Shadowheart’s healing spell still hovers over you, but she’s not in your tent so she must be concentrating somewhere else. Your collarbone still smarts and you can definitely feel every single bruise you’ve ever received in your life, but you feel stronger, fuller. You reach a hand as if to inspect the wound at your side again and find the skin there is closed now.

‘You’re awake,’ Astarion says softly. ‘Thank the gods.’

You sit up quickly and feel the world turn sideways for it. Lightning dances along the back of your eyes as you try to steady yourself, and Astarion reaches out to ground you as you sway back and forth. You wonder just how long he’s been sitting there in your tent waiting for you. Your head throbs faintly once you manage to open your eyes.

‘Thank the gods,’ you echo breathlessly. ‘You brought me back?’

Astarion grimaces as though embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t the one who carried you back to camp, no,’ he says almost petulantly. ‘You’ll have to thank Karlach for that. But I have sat here since then, I must admit.’

‘Everyone — ’

‘Everyone else is fine,’ Astarion interrupts. ‘Halsin aided Shadowheart in your healing. Gale procured herbs, Wyll kept vigil at camp while you slumbered. It was all very twee. You’ll be sad you missed it.’

Astarion raises his chin much like a cat who desires petting. He would never admit it, but you can see it on his face. He’s relieved. If he were anyone else, he might weep for joy at seeing you awake again. It isn’t who he is, so you settle for knowing that he has not left your side since you escaped the Gauntlet.

You sit up further and wave your hand through Shadowheart’s healing spell. It doesn’t disperse as much as you wish, but you ignore it, crawling across your lumpy bedroll so you can wrap your arms slowly around Astarion’s neck. He freezes beneath your touch and begins sputtering, but then you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He burrows his face in the side of your neck.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you,’ you mumble against his ear.

You hear him swallow. ‘I’m not apologizing for yelling at you, if that’s what you want.’

‘I would never ask you to,’ you insist.

Before, you thought it would be a small hug. Something to show your thanks to him. You loosen your arms around him so that he can pull away, but if anything, Astarion drags you closer to him. He hides his face in the spot beneath your ear and inhales deeply, memorizing your healthy scent intently.

The hug lasts longer than you thought it would. It’s almost as healing as the magic, too. You hold Astarion as close to you as he will allow, rubbing circles and tracing his curls at the nape of his neck as if to promise that you will never leave again. You decide to sniff him tentatively as well, and beneath the dirt and ash from the collapse, he still smells like Astarion.

You startle a little when you feel his hand tuck beneath your shirt, his fingers reaching to touch a hint of your bare skin. Someone was kind enough to drag the heavier armor from you, but you still have your bloodied shirt on. Astarion’s cool touch is welcome against your aching spine.

‘I thought,’ he says slowly, ‘that you had sentenced me to a lifetime of loneliness again when you were felled earlier. At first, I was so angry that I thought I might hate you for your mistake. I wanted to kill you myself once the dust had settled.’

‘Astarion — ’ you start to say, hopeless apologies on your tongue.

‘You will let me finish,’ Astarion says harshly, though he nuzzles you. ‘Elves reincarnate, but how long does it take? How many years would I be forced to wait before I caught the scent of you on the wind?’

You’re freed from his grasp, but you aren’t allowed to escape far. You both kneel in your tent, one of his hands on the back of your head, the other at the side of your waist where your skin had been ripped open before. Astarion allows you to see him for who he truly is. His eyes are soft, weak when he stares deep into your eyes like he’s afraid he’ll forget you.

‘You have made this sinner a worshiper, though it’s no gods I am on my knees for,’ Astarion says to you. ‘The only hymn I care to rehearse is your heartbeat. The only prayer is your name. I begged the gods for years that they would save me, but you are the only divine who has answered my call.’

Your breath catches in your throat.

Astarion presses his hip into yours. ‘I wanted to wait to tell you,’ he says with a miserable shake of his head. ‘To think more.’

‘You still can — ’

‘I cannot,’ he admits. ‘When I close my eyes, all I see is your body beneath mine with your life’s blood spilling from you. You begged me to devour you.’

‘I wanted you to be strong,’ you admit. ‘Before, you told me you were only allowed to dine on creatures who couldn’t think. Who knows how long your strength would have lasted…’

His eyes seem to contain infinite sadness. You try to be intent with your words, but you’re distracted by the way he releases his head to palm your chest, pushing his fingers so forcefully skin it’s as though he’s determined to dig through your flesh to grip your heart in his hand. You’d allow him if he asked.

‘You are so self-sacrificing it’s insulting,’ Astarion snorts. ‘Do you think I would have continued in this realm without you? Never have I felt so selfishly about someone before.’

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Astarion leans forward and presses his lips against yours gently. All you can think about is his overwhelming devotion even as you respond to the kiss, melting against the touch. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this.

And you do miss it. You hate being in the Shadow-Cursed Lands more than you hate the lift in the mountains. Everything is dark and dreary and dead, and your companions are prone to being even more distant and distressed than they were before. You feel as though you are of little hope.

But Astarion kisses you now like a man who is breathing air for the first time. His mouth is hungry and insistent, and his hands cling to your skin more than he’s ever clung to you before. It causes you to blush. It’s unlike him to show such desperation. He’s willing, open, honest — yet this kiss is so different from the ones you experienced before. It’s almost chaste. He kisses you like a knight would kiss his charge.

‘But I want this,’ he whispers, breath ragged against your cheek. ‘I want you.’

‘Astarion,’ you murmur. That's all you can say.

He presses his nose against your jaw. ‘Whatever my intentions were before, to the hells with them,’ he says harshly. ‘I want us to be something real, something true if you’ll have me. It’s what you deserve.’

‘I do,’ you confess, almost embarrassed. ‘You must’ve known how silly I felt pestering you. You were the first person I sought out when I returned to camp.’

‘You did have a rather obvious air of desperation about you,’ Astarion says with a small laugh.

‘But I wanted you to come to me of your own accord,’ you continue. You touch the edge of his collar. ‘I lacked confidence. I did not want to force you into something knowing your history.’

He kisses you again. This time, it is a little less chaste. Astarion is determined to devour you, mind, body, and soul. His hands wander as though they’ve never felt your body before, and there’s something anguished about the way he returns to cradling the back of your neck. Your mouth is nothing but a scripture he is determined to practice.

You feel drunk with exhaustion. Having been settled between death and undeath for so long has left you feeling as though there is nothing in your sinew, and Astarion is making matters worse. Your head is filled with nothing but him and his unpredictable mercy. You cling to his shirt and struggle.

What have you done to deserve such boundless devotion? You have listened to, and pleaded with, every emotion he has given you. You’ve taken and given and created anew. Now Astarion becomes. Everything you have given him evolves to become this. When he is finally finished memorizing your mouth, he pulls away and confronts you with barely concealed hunger.

‘Say it,’ he begs desperately. ‘Say you want me too.’

‘I want you,’ you say. ‘Gods, you must know this. There’s nothing I want more.’

‘I wanted to manipulate you,’ he says, horrified. He hides in the crook of your jaw. ‘I wanted to use you as a shield, someone to stand behind.’

‘I am not a very big shield,’ you say.

He doesn’t laugh. ‘I was going to do what I had done before,’ he says. ‘Use your emotions for me as a weapon, but — I never want to see you near another weapon for as long as we live. Do you understand?’

You press a kiss to his hair. ‘Shall I stand behind you now?’

Astarion does laugh at that. He faces you fully now, hands cupping your cheeks. ‘You may as well be regulated to nothing but camp duty. You find a place for us to rest, you sew our clothes up when they come back with holes in them. I’d say you could make dinner, but…’

You brush a lock of his silver hair away from his eyes and run your thumbs against the swelling. He’s just as exhausted as you are even if he has yet to admit it. The building’s collapse has left him equally as tired. You encourage him to lay down with you, and he does, curling at your side with his head on your chest.

‘Will you be our fearsome party leader?’ you ask. You close your eyes and try to imagine it.

‘Oh yes,’ he swears solemnly for your sake. ‘I will hold the map and point us in the correct direction. Hopefully my leadership will lead us away from Shadow-Cursed things and back to the streets of Baldur’s Gate. I am so ferocious that whoever controls these parasites will give up upon seeing my muscles.’

You try to imagine your life without the tadpole. It seems relatively empty without Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s bickering, and you would miss the way Halsin and Gale are prone to rambling on about whatever is holding their interest at the time. You’d miss Karlach and her boundless enthusiasm for dancing. You’d miss Wyll, too. You’d miss the way he always watches your back.

Would you have met them in Baldur’s Gate? Would Astarion have picked up your scent and chased you down an alleyway intent on drinking your blood? He would be as he was before, angry and cruel and distant. For a moment, you’re almost grateful that the mindflayers had kidnapped you that morning. The circumstances surrounding it were dire, and you hated the gross wiggling the worm was prone to doing when it wanted you to be authoritative, but you would miss them.

‘I don’t regret it, you know,’ you say suddenly.

‘You do not regret what, exactly?’ Astarion asks. ‘Getting blown up and nearly dying? You should.’

You snort despite your best attempts not to. You press your palms against your eyes and try to keep from laughing too hard. For what it’s worth, Astarion does let out a small chuckle. You can hear his frown.

‘Aye,’ you relent. ‘I suppose I do regret nearly dying and. I don’t regret what came before it. If Raphael asked me to strike down all of the gods so that he would translate your back, I would do it without asking a question. You deserve to know.’

‘I cannot overstate how…appreciative I am of that,’ Astarion says finally. ‘But, just so you know, I would do the same for you without question. I have most of the time. I trust at least a third of your decisions.’

‘All of the decisions I make,’ you begin.

But Astarion interrupts, ‘I am sure you make them with everyone’s best interest in mind. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes you end up blown to bits.’

‘I do not regret letting you feed from me,’ you say, pretending he never opened his mouth. ‘I do not regret the silly way I fell into your honeyed words. I do not regret killing the Orthon. I do not regret you.’

‘We’ve barely just begun.’

You swallow. ‘And I will see it through until the end of time,’ you say. You’re fully aware that it’s too soon to make sweeping grand declarations of love, but you can’t stop yourself from saying. ‘You will never be alone again.’

You take Astarion’s silence in stride. You want him to know that he isn’t the only one capable of saying disgustingly romantic things. In the wake of your unconsciousness, you feel a rush of things you haven’t felt in quite some time. Life felt dreary in the mountains and worse in the Underdark. You hate when your world feels as though it’s crushing you. Now, even in the dark, it’s as if the sun shines on your face.

‘I love you,’ you say.

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you,’ you repeat, this time with more meaning. You try to roll onto your side, but your shoulder fusses too much. ‘I want you, and I want this. Forever.’

‘Forever,’ Astarion repeats, a sense of wonder entering his voice as he toys with the taste of it on his tongue. Once again, he sits above you, his head pressed against your chest, shaking as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat beneath your skin. ‘I like the sound of that.’ You smile at the sound of a purr in his voice, and allow yourself to imagine what forever means.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa .#my fic

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littlejuicebox · 10 months ago

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The Little Things

Summary: Sometime in Act 1, Astarion is beginning to realize he may like you more than he thought.

Tags/Warnings: pure fluff, feelings realization, sexual innuendo, in game spoilers

Astarion’s nice, simple plan is falling apart at the seams. He isn’t quite sure when it began or how you slowly wormed your way into his heart like the parasite wormed its way into his brain.

He thinks it must have started shortly after the night you two spent together in the clearing. Perhaps the day you drew his scars for him in the dirt?

You notice the little things about him, and it flusters him entirely. No one else has ever bothered to pay attention long enough to catch all the subtleties you seem to see without missing a beat.

You notice he makes tea but never drinks it. It tastes like dirty water on his vampiric tongue, but he loves the smell and the warmth. One day you bring him a cup of tea and urge him to try it.

“This one will be different, I promise.” You say, and you smile at him so sweetly it’s impossible to refuse.

He quirks a brow but obliges. One small sip reveals that this tea is palatable… in fact, it’s actually enjoyable.

“What’s in this? Better not be a sore attempt at poisoning me.” He murmurs with a playful smirk before taking another long sip of the warm liquid.

You grin and show him your finger, where the smallest pinprick can be seen.

Blood. Of course.

His face feels hot, like patches of warmth are spreading across his cheeks. It must be the tea.

“Clever pup,” He chuckles, “I— thank you.”

One day you’re simply walking by him in camp, returning from a quick foraging trip in the woods. He’s perched upon a stool, reading a book, and drinking the remnants of his morning tea you’d brought to him just over an hour ago.

It’s a lovely little treat every morning. He’s secretly delighted every time you bring it by.

You pause and smile, “Enjoying your book?”

He hums a soft yes and dog ears the page before clasping it shut to acknowledge you.

“Quite, darling. And you? Enjoying your… digging in the mud?” He asks, cocking his head just slightly as he examines the small basket of potatoes you’d procured from the earth.

“It’s not so bad,” You laugh, and then your eyes flicker to his book, “Oh, I almost forgot.”

You rustle through your bag and withdraw a thin strip of burgundy fabric, offering it to him.

Astarion takes the gift. It’s a bookmark. There’s a delicate letter A stitched in gold thread at the top of the small trinket. He’d spent a few hours last week showing you how to sew and embroider little details.

“I noticed you always fold the corners of the pages, and Gale is always grumbling about it when you return his books, so…” You shrug and smile again, “Plus, it’s a small thank you. For the sewing lessons.”

His face feels hot again. It must be the tea. Again.

“Ah, yes. I shall be sure to use it now, then. Don’t want to risk angering the wizard and getting us all blown up!” He jokes as he places the bookmark atop his book, mostly as an excuse to break away from your gaze, which is causing him to feel flustered. He doesn’t know why.

You laugh softly and step closer to him, “It’s not as good as your work.”

You absentmindedly take his hand and turn it, revealing the inner sleeve of his shirt. Your fingers trace along the cuff, admiring a piece of his own embroidery he’d done a few days ago.

“I saw you stitched these little flowers on your shirt the other day. Can you show me how to do that?” You ask, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.

He swallows. Your hand is still resting upon his wrist.

“O-of course, darling. Anytime.” He responds, still thrown. How had you noticed that? His skin tingles from where your fingers had grazed against him.

But it isn’t a bad sensation. He quite liked it, actually.

You grin and then hoist your basket back up before bidding goodbye and walking over to show Gale your harvest. Astarion is left befuddled and simply staring as you walk away.

That same night you’re by the campfire, and Astarion is showing you how to stitch small flowers on a scrap of cloth. You’re leaning over his shoulder, watching his work intently. The proximity is making his fingers fumble more than they usually would, but you don’t seem to notice.

“You filed your nails today,” You remark, absently, as you watch his skilled fingers work their creative magic.

He blinks and pauses mid-stitch.

His nails? You noticed the length of his nails?

“I wasn’t aware they were so obscenely long that it would be so obvious.” He responds, his nose wrinkling just slightly. Perhaps his standards of cleanliness and appearance had fallen in the wilds.

“Oh, it’s not that,” You reply, your tone almost dreamy as you continue to observe the rogue, “I just look at your hands a lot.”

Astarion’s finger slips and he pierces himself with the needle. He winces slightly as he withdraws the sliver from his hand.

“I— what?” He asks, pausing his work to assess you with wide, blinking eyes.

You hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. You’d been entranced and disarmed by the steady rhythm of his hands and the smell of Astarion’s freshly washed skin.

He’d started a new bar of soap today. You could tell because he smelled different when he returned from the river. You’d complimented the new fragrance and he’d stared at you for a moment too long, eyebrows furrowed. You worried you’d somehow offended him. And then he laughed and made some innuendo-filled joke about cleanliness being next to godliness.

He’s waiting for you to respond, the metal sliver of a needle held at rest between his thumb and forefinger.

“I…” You start, and you feel a blush creep across your face, “You have pretty hands.”

You finish the statement lamely and with a small shrug.

One, two, three beats of silence.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes are staring into your own; he’s thinking… deeply.

Before you process what’s happening, the rogue has already abandoned his project in the dirt and brought both his hands to cup your face, plunging forward to press a kiss against your lips. His tongue slides into your mouth, urgently dancing against your own.

You two hadn’t been physical since the night of the Tiefling party. He hadn’t propositioned you again, and you were far too nervous to attempt propositioning him. You are entirely caught off guard by his advances but eagerly receive his affections anyway.

When Astarion finally breaks away from you, his face is hot. He knows it isn’t the tea this time.

He wants to show you what else he can do with his pretty hands.

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corruptedcaps · 3 months ago

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The Chavs and the Chav-Nots

"Look, Heidi, I know this sounds crazy, but trust me, it's going to work. The plan is solid. I take the Chav juice I invented, and bam I'm a chav for 24 hours. A full day to go undercover as the ultimate chav bitch. I'll be just like them, blending right in with those girls who make our lives hell. I know you're worried, but it's our only shot. We’ll get the dirt we need to stop them.

Here’s the thing, though, once I drink it, I won’t remember being me. I’ll be all in, completely believing I’ve always been a chav. I might not even go by the name of Jess anymore. And that means… I might come after you too. I might bully you just like they do. But you have to remember, it’s not really me.

When the 24 hours are up, I’ll be back to normal, and we’ll have everything we need. It'll be tough, but it’s worth it. We’re so close to turning the tables on them, Heidi. This is our chance. Just hold on for one day, okay? Ok here goes nothing."

"What the hell am I wearing? I must have blacked out from all the partying and stole your loser clothes. Thankfully even in these fucking shit outfit and virgin glasses I’m still a fuckin’ knockout.

I need to get out of here before someone actually sees me with you. Do you know what that would do to my rep? Being seen with someone like you? Ugh, it's disgusting just thinking about it.

Honestly, I don't even know why you even go to school. It's not like anyone actually likes you. You're just this sad, clingy little parasite, always hanging on, hoping someone will notice you. Spoiler alert, they don’t. You're invisible. You’re fuckin’ nothing, not like me.

Ugh I feel like your ugliness will rub off on me if I stick around any longer. I need some new sexier clothes. Out of the way fugly and if I see you again you’ll wish you were never born.”

"Heidi… oh my God, I’m so sorry. I remember everything. All the horrible things I said to you as Jessi… that’s what I… I mean she, calls herself. It’s like I was trapped inside my own head, watching it all happen. I felt every nasty mean thing she did. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear.

Thankfully I got a lot of juicy dirt on those evil bitches but you’re not going to like this…. I need to become Jessi again. They opened up a lot to her but I could tell they were still wary of her. I just need to spend more time with them and do what they do and gain their trust.

Thankfully Jessi bought some new clothes while she was in control. I know they are slutty and revealing but they are they perfect to fit in with them. Jessi is a perfect chav.

Of course it helped that the juice transformed my body too. I didn’t expect the big tits, the fake tan, the blonde ponytail, or the press on nails but it certainly helps sell the look. I even think some of the chavs are jealous of Jessi.

And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was kind of… nice? I mean, not the whole ‘being a complete bitch’ part, but having them be jealous you know? Anyway I better go get changed into my ‘Jessi’ clothes. Sorry in advance.”

“I thought I told you I’d beat the shit out of you if I saw you again loser. What are you even doing at this party, it’s only for hot studs and bad bitches like us, isn’t that right girls?

This is the fuckin’ train wreck I was telling you about girls. Oh you know her? Yeah I guess she is hard to miss, like a wart on a diseased foot. God, just look at her. Honestly, Heidi, you’re a joke. I mean, who even lets you out of the house looking like that? Where’d you get those clothes? A charity shop? They’re so tragic. And that hair… yikes. Ever heard of shampoo?

She’s starting to make me gag girls. Kayla, kick this bitch out will you, I don’t want her putting me off fuckin’ Derek later. So long dork.”

"Heidi, I’m sorry… again. I know I was awful, but you have to understand, I got even more dirt on those girls. We’re so close to taking them down for good!

Did I have sex with Derek? As in Delinquent Derek the hardest guy on the estates? No… I don’t so? I mean it’s all a little blurry, Jessi was drinking a lot. I only have patches of the night but I’m sure she didn’t. He was texting my phone this morning calling me a bad bitch so I’m sure she told him off.

Oh these hoop earrings? Yeah they’re Jessi’s but I find it’s an easier transition to being her if I’m already wearing some of her stuff. Sure her body fits everything so much better but she’s likely to question everything less if she’s ready to go. Plus I kind of like the way the look on me, they’re sort of sexy don’t you think? Do you think should wear more makeup? Then again what would you know? Anyway I better go get ready for Jessi.”

"Aww, look at you, Heidi, crying like a little baby. What, did I hurt your feelings? Pathetic. You should be used to it by now. You’re so weak it makes my stomach turn.

I’ll let you in on little secret though. I know all about Jess, my loser alter ego. The more she’s transformed into me the more of her memories have slipped into my mind. The more control I’ve taken. Her smarts have let me take over the gang. They are all dumb sluts so it was easy to manipulate them into making me their leader.

But it’s a two way street. I’m sure you’ve noticed Jess has become a little bit meaner, a little bit hotter, and a little bit vainer. All thanks to yours truly. Poor little Jess thought she could control me, use me like some tool to get her way. But she didn’t realize how strong I am.

Just a few more times, and Jess won’t exist anymore. She’ll be gone, and it’ll be just me, Jessi. Forever. And you? You’ll be stuck dealing with the real me, the one who doesn’t give a fuck about you or your pathetic tears. I love being an evil chav bitch and soon Jess will too.

But don’t you go getting any ideas about telling her what I’m up to. I’ve got her dosing on juice everyday but she could still reject me and try and go cold turkey if she’s convinced, so this will be our little secret.”

"Heidi, what are you talking about? Jessi’s plan? Jessi doesn’t have a plan, she doesn’t even know about me. You’re just overreacting. I’m in control here, not Jessi. I know what I’m doing.

You’re just jealous because the juice has had some delicious side effects, like making me fuckin’ tasty. I’ve had to wear all the clothes Jessi bought because they’re the only things that now fit me. The fake tan, nails and makeup is just to compliment it all.

Or maybe you’re just jealous because the Chavs have stopped bullying me entirely. In fact they kind of fear me. Maybe that’s what’s really bothering you. You liked it better when I was just plain old Jess, right? Anything to draw attention away from you.

And come on, Jessi taking over? That’s absurd. I know who I am. I’m still me. Kind. Smart. Caring. And sexy as fuck. Maybe I’m just... improving a little, that’s all. What’s wrong with that? You can’t handle the fact that I’m finally stepping out of my shell.

Honestly, Heidi, you’re starting to sound like a paranoid freak. You’re just trying to hold me back because you’re afraid of being left behind. Maybe you’re the one who needs to change, to toughen up a bit. Ever think about that? Anyway I have better places to be now.”

“Well, well, Heidi. Look at you. I didn’t think you had it in you to try and tell Jess about my plan. Gotta say, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had a backbone. But that’s why I had the girls tie you up and bring you to me.

See, I’m so close to making sure Jess is gone for good, and I can’t let you derail my plans. You’ve always been such a little thorn in my side, but something Jess said to you made me think that maybe I could get your pushiness to work in my favour. Maybe it’s time YOU changed.

Open up, Heidi. You’re about to get a taste of what real power feels like. Just a little modified Chav juice, enough to see things my way. Thanks to Jess’ brilliant mind I’ve adapted it to make you into everything I need you to be. Come on, don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s time for you to join the winning side.”

"You know I wasn’t sure at first that your idea of you imbedding yourself in with Jessi was such a good idea, especially because she really seemed to hate your guts but these past few days I’ve seen flashes of you and her hanging out and you’re as thick as thieves. You’re very convincing. It helps you’re started dressing like all the other Chavs too. Don’t get me wrong, you look proper fit now babes. I mean… you fit in so well with Jessi and her crew!

Speaking of which I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind about me taking the juice, you get that it’s only going to be a few times more and then it’ll be over. I wasn’t sure you’d see things my way, but now you’re being so supportive, so encouraging. It makes this whole thing feel so much easier.

And I have to admit… I do enjoy being Jessi sometimes. She’s so fuckin’ hawt and nasty. A proper slag. Oh sorry about that, she slips out out from time to time. A lot more recently. It just feels so freeing to not have to worry about anything. She’s a real bitch and gets what she wants. As she should!

Shit I was going to wait a few hours but what harm could it be to take some juice now? Thanks Heidi you’re so supportive. But you know what first? Let’s you and I get dolled up so when Jessi takes over she’s ready to go with her ‘bestie’.”

“Mmmm yesss that did it. I can feel the last of that loser is out of my system. I have to hand it to you babes, this would have taken weeks to do if I didn’t have you by my side. I always knew you had potential, but damn, you’ve become the loyal bitch I needed. Together, we’re going to run the school, no doubt about it.

Funny how Jess tried to go undercover with the chavs and what brought her down was me her better half infiltrating her world with you as my perfect hawt weapon.

And as for me… just look at me. I’m the perfect chav now. In fact I’m the fuckin’ chav Queen! Shedding that weakling Jess was the best thing I could have done. I’m everything she could never be.

But you, you’re my best creation. A slutty bestie who is unwavering loyal and a fuckin’ stunner to boot. Mmmm the trouble we are going to get up to is making me so wet.

After I dosed all the other girls with anti-chav I needed to start building a better gang anyway. They were just posers compared to us. It’s going to be so much fun converting the other nerds into chav babes and bullying our old enemies.

We’re the Chavs now and their just the chav-nots.”

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #cc2024 #thechavsandthechavnots #chavification #corrupted pov

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dan4572 · 2 months ago

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SPOILERS AND COPIUM BELOW

Y’all this stupid fucking tape is making me lose my mind

If only Ace or Eden could’ve taken the tape, then I need to ask, why and how would EITHER of them be in a right state of mind to do so.

Eden just witnessed an attempted murder that clearly rattled her. She thought that the victim was actually dead until they forcibly shoved her away. How do you reel back from that in enough time to think about this tape on the ground and grab it.

Ace was the victim of said attempted murder. The man was BLEEDING FROM THE NECK. He was in PAIN. Why and how would the tape even cross his mind.

But yet if someone ELSE took the tape, that would mean that they needed to come to the crime scene and take it while MonoTV was cleaning. They could’ve asked MonoTV if they could have the tape and MonoTV could’ve given said yes because murder purposes, but 1) As far as we know right now, nobody else witnessed Ace’s near-murder, and 2) The tape clearly disappeared around when Ace regained consciousness.

I’m considering the option of someone sneaking in when Ace got up and taking the tape while everyone was distracted, but like… that’s such a reach.

As someone who desperately wants Eden to be innocent this tape has been an actual parasite. It still makes no sense to me that after all this talk about proving Teruko wrong about distrusting others— how kindness isn’t weakness— she would then just… resorting to commit murder? And the CG during David’s flashback about Arei? I think that alone makes it clear Eden’s not a 100% pure angel. Why hammer it in like THIS?

But as they’ve said, Ace had no relationship at all with Arei, so he has no reason to go after her. I feel he could’ve chosen Arei specifically due to that, so people would use that to say he couldn’t do it, but Ace is shown not to be the smartest, so could he even think that ahead?

If Eden is the killer I WILL wage war (/hj) but holy shit I don’t want it be Ace either. I’m going insane guys. I’m going insane over a roll of tape.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #eden tobisa #ace markey #i am not okay #I hate tape #I’ll never use tape again /j

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astarionslittlejuicebox · 1 year ago

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Reflected in Someone’s Eyes (Part 1)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: Astario’s POV after he tells the reader (Y/N) that he hasn’t seen his face in over 200 years. What does Astarion find when he catches the reader still up when he comes for his nightly feed?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: Fluff, embarrassment, feelings of unworthiness, mentions of blood/vampires/etc, minor spoilers, suggestive themes

Word Count: 1532

Side Notes: E/C = Eye color, Y/N = your name, Y/R = your race

Part 2

Astarion stared into the mirror he held high as he tried to hide his disappointment in discovering the parasite hadn’t corrected his inability to see his own reflection. He did, however, notice when he caught Y/N’s attention. They had parted ways shortly after making camp: she went to help make food, and Astarion tended to his wounds in his tent. Up until the moment she caught a glimpse of the reflective gleam from the reflective surface as the campfire roared with life. She had been eating and drinking with Wyll and Karlach, but she quickly finished her last sip of her wine before she said something to them both and started walking towards Astarion’s tent.

Astarion’s chest felt slightly tighter when he noticed her intent on walking his way, but he knew better than to let any signs of weakness show.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked as she neared the pale elf. “I thought vampires couldn’t see their reflection?” Her tone was curious and playful, but Astarion frowned into the mirror he was admiring her from.

“I was just hoping that perhaps the parasite had changed that too about me. Much to my dismay, I still cannot see my own face.” If no one had known, they would not have caught the slight hint of sadness in his tone, but Y/N shuffled her weight on her feet.

“Do you miss it? Being able to see your face?” Y/N asked, and Astarion sighed heavily.

“Peering in a looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I haven’t even seen this face—not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.” He growled out the last part of his statement. Y/N slightly shifted her weight on her feet as her head cocked slightly to the side in curiosity.

“What color were they before?” She questioned, but Astarion just shook his head.

“I don’t even remember what my face looked like before I woke up as a vampire spawn.” The words bitterly left his tongue. Y/N’s face flashed with a familiar expression to him now: pity “My face is just a dark shape of my past.” He spat out as he threw the mirror to the ground, scattering the already broken pieces of the mirror. He took some calming breaths before he realized that the woman in front of him was just looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. Why was she staring at him?

“What?” He abruptly asked, slightly nervous from her attentive gaze, but he held his stoic expression. A small smile graced her lips before she replied.

“I’ll be your mirror.” The words came out of her mouth softly and sweetly as the woman gently held eye contact with him. “What do you want to know?” She ever-so-softly asked him. He turned to her with his signature smile before he spoke.

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” Astarion’s voice was soft, but then he drops his voice even further and his eyes soften with vulnerability as he adds, “What you see.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous to hear what the woman before him had to say. Isn’t it silly of him to wonder what this woman is going to say about, and for him to wonder how it is going to make him feel…a luxury Cazador wouldn’t have given him. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he released it at her reply.

“I see strong, piercing eyes that glint and gleam like crimson rubies in the sun.” Astarion swore he could feel something stir in his undead heart at her honeyed words, and his hungry ears needed to hear more sweet words.

“Oh?” He said lowly. “Go on.”

“You have a dangerous smile; one that makes anyone’s heart race with anticipation. It makes people wonder why someone like you would look their way.” The look of admiration in her E/C eyes sent another squeezing feeling to his chest.

“Very good.” He said as he smiled at her. “Now, just tell me I’m beautiful, and we can call it a day.” The smile that graced Y/N’s lips took his breath away as she told him exactly what he wanted to hear. “Observant.” He said when she finished. “Mirrors aren’t much use, but being reflected in someone’s eyes? Well…I could do worse.” His eyes softened as he looked over the Y/R woman in front of him. She then yawned, and Astarion chuckled at her.

“Your mirror,” She sarcastically referred to herself as, “Is exhausted. You’re welcome to come for a bite tonight, if you desire. I’ll see you in the morning.” Astarion bid her good night, and told her he couldn’t wait to come for a taste later.

However, as Astarion laid in his tent, he couldn’t help but think about Y/N and her honeyed words. How could it be that a woman such as herself would be so willing, so eager, to say such nice things about someone like him? Astarion had reminded himself time and time again that he needed protection from her. He needed to seduce her and bed her to keep himself protected. That’s all he needed to do, and something he knew all too well to do. Smile here, some flattery there, and, with a little performance from him, all would be well. All he has to do is not fall for you, and that’s the easy part. Right? But as the pale elf laid on his bed roll, he tried to shake off the feeling creeping inside his chest—the one in the center where his heart use to beat. Astarion shook off the feeling and labeled it that he just needed to feed, so he got up and started towards your tent.

Over the next few days, Astarion noticed that his tasty partner spent more time looking at him than she spent with him. Yes, they had been spending quality time traveling together to the shadow cursed lands, heading towards Moonrise Towers, but she had been far more quiet and distant since their conversation about the mirror. As much as he hates to admit it, the small shift in her behavior had him concerned. Her absence that night from her bedroll had also been a cause for alarm for the pale elf. Today had not been a great day, for they had royally pissed off the githyanki queen, Vlaakith, who swore that we shall all perish at the end of one of her warriors’ blades.

Astarion took a calming breath, and focused his attention on her scent: she had an alluring scent of sandalwood vanilla with a subtle accent of coffee. He had been joking that she was his little energy drink because of her habit of drinking coffee every morning. Luckily, her scent was strong and Astarion was quickly able to find his pretty little travel companion sitting on a large rock, overlooking the valley below them. Y/N hadn’t heard him approach, and Astarion could see that she was engrossed in whatever she had in her hands. The vampire spawn purposefully stepped on a nearby twig, which garnered the reaction he had hoped for when the Y/R sprung up with her dagger drawn. The dagger glinted in the moonlight as she lowered upon making eye contact with the familiar pair of ruby red eyes.

“Astarion.” She left out in a sigh of relief. “Sorry, you had startled me.” She left out a light, breathless chuckle as she finished her statement. “I guess you came to feed on me, and discovered I wasn’t there? I must’ve lost track of time.” One of her eyebrows cocked upwards in question as she sheathed her dagger and picked up the items she had been previously holding before the twig snapped: a large book, and a pencil.

“Clever girl.” Astarion praised before he cocked an eyebrow himself. “What has captured the attention of my tasty little treat to have kept her distracted?” Her cheeks slightly flushed, and the sound of her pulse quickening was music to Astarion’s vampire ears. He itched to sink his pearly whites into her beautiful neck, but he was now more interested in the answer to his question. “Do tell me that you were writing some dirty little fantasies about us in that book of yours?” The alluring tone in his voice and the flabbergasted expression on her face made Astarion feel comfortable and in control; however, he wasn’t prepared for the lighthearted laugh that escaped from the woman.

“Oh no, my darling,” Astarion raised an eyebrow at the nickname that came from Y/N’s lips. “Give me a few more nights, and I’ll happily show you what I’ve been working on.” A genuine smile on her lips told Astarion that she meant what she had spoken.

“Alright then.” He said with a smile. “I surely hope whatever it is you are working on will be well worth the wait.” Some unfamiliar expression shone in the Y/R’s E/C eyes as she casually replied.

“Who knows,” Her shoulders shrugged. “Only time will tell.” Then, she bid him good night after happily letting him have a taste of her intoxicating blood.

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion fluff #baldursgate3imagine #baldursgate3 #astarion x reader

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wsdanon · 7 months ago

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i feel like this will be quite niche, mostly because i'm not sure how many ordem fans are in my sphere but also because it's not about the main cast lol

but below the cut is an osnf fic \o/! many spoilers for that season. it's based on a canon divergent au me and @factorialsotherfandoms came up with and this one in particular involves the helper and the gatekeeper!

also below the cut for anyone who hasn't seen ordem but is curious about the fic is a brief summary of some world-building elements that will help with understanding the fic \o/ but not the plot because that will take too long lol

reblogs appreciated \o/!! hope you guys enjoy

brief worldbuilding stuff: the helper and the gatekeeper are from a town called santo berço which was a seemingly perfect town apart from the fact that the people are brainwashed to some degree into wanting to stay there and there's a parasite (the saint/a god) feeding on some of them. everyone in the town uses their work titles as their names, and they have an alien-ish appearance (Luzidio) but can switch into a human appearance (Ignaro) at will. the crystals mentioned are healing crystals that have the ability to knock people out if ingested. i can't explain buttery butter. blame felps for this creation

The Helper stands in front of the mirror, his Ignaro form staring back. Technically he doesn’t need to be in it right now, but he’ll need to get used to it eventually, so… he’s practicing.

The eyes are maybe the strangest bit about it. They feel smaller. The familiar blackness now shrunk down and encased by other colours—brown and white.

He leans closer to the mirror and pokes at his cheek where his markings would be. Maybe if he looks close enough he’ll still be able to see the faint shadow of them—

“Why are you acting like it’s new?” The Gatekeeper says. “You’ve seen this form before.”

The Helper jumps at the sudden appearance of his voice, and spins around to face him. He doesn’t like having people behind him anymore—an alien distrust crawling through his body at even the thought of it.

“I know, I’m just… getting used to it. You know?” He shrugs, and tries to force himself to relax. “I never used to use it much before, but now it’s going to be pretty much constant, right?”

“That’s true.”

Cautiously, the Gatekeeper drifts closer. They don’t have the crystals anymore, and he’s not holding a weapon so it should be fine.

Really, he wishes his brain would stop thinking so hard about it. He’s one of the few people who actually managed to survive and that was because of the Gatekeeper.

It’s just…

It’s hard to put the memory out of his mind of the Gatekeeper approaching him with a knife and wrestling crystals into his mouth.

“It is strange.” The Gatekeeper admits with a small smile as he stops close in front of him. “I only ever saw you like this when we were messing around.”

“And you went on lots of Pilgrimages, right?” The Helper says, knocking their shoulders together gently with a smile that doesn’t quite feel real crossing his face. He doesn’t like it, but no attempts at widening the smile make it feel realer. “So you’re probably dealing fine, huh?”

“Eh…” The Gatekeeper shrugs. “With this, yeah.”

He’s in his Luzidio form now. It’s nice. A tiny bit of familiarity to cling onto.

“What if we lose it?” The Gatekeeper continues, something nervous seeping into his tone.

“What?” The Helper tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“This form.” He points to himself. “We only had this because of the Saint’s influence. What if we lose it now?”

“Well, we—“ He cuts himself off as the full implications hit him, a hollow feeling settling into his chest. It’s uncomfortable. He never used to feel this way in Santo Berço, but now it’s almost all he can feel. “We—We get used to it, I guess.”

The Gatekeeper reaches a hand up—slowly, but the Helper can’t help but flinch away a little. All he does, though, is settle it onto his cheek. Doesn’t try to pry his mouth open. Doesn’t try to force the anaesthesia down his throat.

“You should, uh…” The Gatekeeper shifts his thumb to line up with where the Helper’s markings would be. Presses down firmly, but not enough to hurt. “You should get them tattooed.”

“Okay.” This smile feels a little more real. “Would you?”

“Ah, maybe.” He shrugs. “I’m still not… sure how I feel about, uh, all of it.”

“I like them.” The Helper brings a finger up to trace down one before letting it drop to his side again. “I’d miss them.”

“O-Okay.” The Gatekeeper looks away, his cheeks darkening. “Maybe for you, then.”

The Helper frowns. He misses Santo Berço. Misses the simplicity of it. Everything out here just feels like a mess—the selfish desire to keep at least one thing the same, versus the guilt of forcing the Gatekeeper to do something he doesn’t particularly want to do.

“Only if it’s for you, too.” He tries another smile. “From what you’ve said, it sounds like it’s about time you do things for yourself, hm?”

The Gatekeeper is still cupping his cheek, so he can feel the moment his hands start shaking. He wonders if they shook when he spilled his blood to fake his death.

“I…” His voice cracks. He drops his hand from the Helper’s face so he can wrap him in a tight hug instead. “I’m so glad you’re here. My god, I’m so glad you’re here, Helper, I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The Helper hugs him back.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay now.”

For a while they stand there. The Gatekeeper isn’t quite crying, but he is trembling in the Helper’s arms—murmuring things that he can’t make out, but are probably apologies.

When he pulls away he doesn’t go far. And he’s still trembling a little—his eyes shiny with unshed tears—but he seems more put together than he was a moment ago.

“I’ll—I’ll figure out how to make buttery butter, okay?” The Gatekeeper promises.

“Oh, how cool!” For the first time since they got here, a spark of excitement ignites in him. “We can all experiment together! I’m sure we’ll get it right eventually, you know?”

“Hopefully.” The Gatekeeper sends him a watery smile. “I just—I know how much you like it. You did always say it was the best part of Santo Berço.”

That was when he still had Santo Berço. When he didn’t have to miss it. But the sentiment is sweet, and he is clawing for any scrap of familiarity.

For the Collector and the Nurse it isn’t so bad, he thinks. As much as they might miss it, they know what it’s like to live without it. All they’ll need is a readjustment period.

The Gatekeeper is in his boat, but it’s different. He’s always hated Santo Berço—apparently. And he’s probably been on enough Pilgrimages to understand how the world outside is.

“Thank you.” It’s worth being optimistic, though. “I think between the four of us we’ll get close!”

“We will.” The Gatekeeper declares—an intensity to him that the situation doesn’t really require. “I promise.”

They should maybe talk about that. The devotion he feels for them.

The Helper knows the Nurse doesn’t like it. He’s aware of her wariness every time the Gatekeeper is around. But they all saw the fates of the people still connected to the Saint, and the Helper finds it difficult to hate his friend for his original plan.

He doesn’t want to open up the discussion and find out she has a reason to still be worried, though. It’s a strange enough thing to know your friend would kill you to prevent your suffering. To not be able to shake the fear that came with the certainty you were about to die by his hands.

He doesn’t want it to be made worse. He’s lost too much to lose the Gatekeeper now.

“Come on.” The Helper says, nudging the Gatekeeper into action. “The Nurse said you should be resting, and you know she knows what she’s talking about.”

“If you could say that with less infatuation in your voice I’d be more inclined to believe you, you know?” The Gatekeeper says teasingly. “But you’re right—she’s right—I am tired. Maybe you could carry me?”

The Gatekeeper had collapsed when the Saint was killed. Dropped like a stone before any of them could catch him. It wasn’t as worrying as bursting into flames, but it was still terrifying.

The Helper had carried him to safety. Held on tightly to him—almost afraid he’d disappear in front of him, just like his dad had.

“Yeah, okay.”

And then he scoops him up.

It’s as easy to carry him as last time, but this time feels nicer. Less terrifying. Instead of being limp and unconscious in his arms, the Gatekeeper clings back to him immediately—his eyes widening in shock.

The Helper laughs. The Gatekeeper clearly wasn’t expecting the request to be taken seriously, but he doesn’t complain or ask to be put down and it’s—it’s nice.

It’s a short walk to the spare room, but the Gatekeeper is already dozing off. He lays him down in bed gently, but the Gatekeeper grabs his arm before he can leave.

“Wait, can you—can you stay?” He asks, his voice shaky with something the Helper would label as fear. “Please? Just until I fall asleep.”

“Okay.”

He was going to wait up until the Nurse got back from her shift, but that won’t be for a few more hours.

So, he gets into bed, but doesn’t lay down—unwilling to tempt sleep. Just sits there and lets the Gatekeeper curl up against him. It’s a bit of a tight fit, but he doesn’t mind. The closeness is nice, actually.

“Goodnight.” He cards a hand through the Gatekeeper’s hair. Like this, it’s hard to imagine he could be capable of murder. “Sleep well.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

The Gatekeeper falls asleep quickly, but the Helper doesn’t leave yet. It’s peaceful. And it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on the Gatekeeper’s health.

The Nurse had said he’ll probably need more time to recover than them, but she had also asked the Helper to tell her if he seemed to be getting worse.

He was his dad’s assistant before the Blacksmith’s, after all. And while he definitely doesn’t have the knack for it that the Nurse does, he thinks he could at least figure out if she needs to reassess his condition.

But the Gatekeeper seems fine for now, and he has a couple of hours to kill. So, he grabs the book on the bedside table that the Gatekeeper’s been reading through and starts reading it himself.

hope you guys enjoyed \o/!! i'm happy to talk more about the au's details if anyone's curious

#wsd/f.ics

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coffincestuous · 11 months ago

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every now and then a posts pops up in the tcoaal tags talking about how much they HATE the game and how they don’t see the appeal and everyone who likes it is a digusting, irredeemable person

(here, we can all roll our eyes and block them together)

so, what makes this game so likeable?

well, personally, everything. everything makes it likeable. but that’s not really an answer to those who are determined to Not Like It

mild spoilers ahead!

first, the art!

[id: the main screen art for the game, two scenes, and two sprites of andrew and ashley. the main screen art has andrew and ashley facing each other, holding different kitchen equipment covered in blood. ashley looks happy, while andrew looks apprehensive. behind them is a black coffin with a window, wrapped in chains. the text says “the coffin of andy and leyley” is red.

the first scene depicts them facing a door, with andrew’s hands on the door and ashley’s shoulder. the second scene depicts ashley hugging a reluctant andrew, who is holding the door slightly open. the sprites of andrew and ashley show them smiling. end id.]

the art style is really cute!! it may not be everyone’s Thing, and that’s okay, but i’m a huge fan of the artstyle and the color palette! the designs are recognizable and show us details about the characters that the game doesn’t have to spell out. andrew’s kind of non-haircut, the tag on his sweater, ashley’s clothes, etc. all tell us things about the characters we learn as we progress through the game!!

the colors through the world are muted greys and blacks and off-whites, which clue the player in to the environment really well. the world is dreary!! it’s bleak!! it’s not just the apartment we first meet our characters in, but almost every place we go to as andrew or ashley. there are some splashes of colors, but for the most part, it’s the same dull colors. there’s a reason for that.

[id: the graves’ apartment, featuring the kitchen and living room. end id.]

[id: the graves’ balcony and their neighboring balconies. all of them have furniture and plants and boxes.]

the color palette really sets the tone of the game, and the attitude all of the characters have towards the world, without SAYING “all of the characters have a bleak view of the world.”

second, the plot!

on steam, the description for the game is this:

[id: “Walk-n-talk adventure with light puzzling. Brother and sister practice cannibalism after witnessing a botched satanic ritual.” end id]

from this, we can expect cannibalsm, murder, and possibly demons. probably blood. (definitely blood).

and this:

[id: “Cannibalism and codependency! Caught in an extremely toxic sibling relationship, our awful heroes must survive starvation, as well as each other. How will you escape death and the consequences of your actions?” end id.]

of course, the players and fanbase know there’s more to the game than that.

as far as summaries go, how’s this? “a codependent brother and sister, possibly infected with ‘parasites,’ have been locked in their apartment for months with no food due to an apartment-wide quarantine. while spying on their cultist neighbor, they witness a demon-summoning ritual go wrong, and decide to take advantage of an otherwise hopeless situation. with blood on their hands and no going back, the two are forced to keep covering their tracks as they learn of what’s really going on with the quarantine, and the mysterious world of demons they’ve accidentally uncovered.”

that gives a little more context and a little more incentive to actually play the game. (or at least watch someone play through it. ideally with no commentary. there are several great ones). at the very least, it tells a little more about what to expect from the game going in to it.

as easy as the ‘government organ-harvesting scheme’ is to miss, (and, believe me, i Did miss it the first time i played through) it’s still there, and is one of the biggest motivations for our characters to keep doing what they’re doing. they want to eat, they want out of a needless quarantine, they don’t want to get caught out of their apartment, they don’t want to get caught for the murder or the cannibalsm, etc. each step they take is to get themselves as far away from all of that as they can. together.

that’s interesting!! that’s catching!! the plot is what captured my attention initially!! it’s why i was excited to play the game Myself!! it’s why i’m excited for chapter three!! i want to see where they go from here, what challenges they face, and how they overcome it. i wanted to see where the end of chapter one took them!! if the plot is good, it doesn’t have to be well-written to be enjoyable (although, in my opinion, it is well-written). and it is enjoyable.

third and fourth, the characters! their relationship!

while tcoaal has solid visuals, it’s much more story-driven than gameplay driven. there Is gameplay, and there are puzzles, but most of the game is spent reading dialogue.

as both ashley and andrew, the player goes through the dialogue between the two of them, as well as other characters. we meet mrs. and mr. graves, we meet andrew’s ex-girlfriend in a flashback, we meet demons and cultists and corrupted security guards. but, despite it all, the majority of the dialogue is between andrew and ashley.

obviously, as our protagonists, that’s a given. and, of course, it’s intentional. but, a lot of the people outside of the fanbase don’t seem to realize just how much we see of andrew and ashley. we’re with them constantly, as they are constantly with each other. their back-and-forth banter is fun when it’s fun, and serious when it needs to be. the challenges and changes the two of them go through are shown through their dialogue in chapter two, where the choices start to Matter. we see their dynamic change, for better or for worse, and we see their reactions to that change. there isn’t a physical change to show for decision making (with some exceptions), but we see their thoughts and how they speak to each other change. we see how they act around each other before The Incidents and afterwards.

people also seem to miss the ‘codependent’ part of their relationship, and hardly even look past their disgust at the game to wonder why. (fictional incest is hot AND narratively compelling!)

by playing the game, we learn very quickly that ashley was a “problem child.” she was loud, annoying, mean, and disliked by everyone. everyone. her mother was a teenager when she had both ashley and andrew, and shoved ashley on to andrew to pacify and raise her. it was andrew’s job to be her parent, to teach her right and wrong, to spend time with her, to make sure she ate, to make sure she had friends. he’s only two years older than her, but he’s been the only constant in her life. whether or not he was willing to be there for her, (which he is), he was there. keeping him by her side is what matters most to her, no matter who she has to threaten or what she has to do. she relies on him, as she always has, to stop her from going too far. she relies on him to pacify her when she’s upset or angry, because that’s what he’s always done. she expects him to go along with her whims and expects him to clean up after her messes (literally or figuratively) because that’s what he’s always done.

(for some really good ashley analysis, check out this post by ashleyhuh, this post by double--blind, and this post by sunshine-jesse)

andrew, on the other hand, was a very good kid. their mom, in a specific scene, called him an easy child. he’s well-liked by adults and peers, he’s had friends outside of ashley, even his parents like him more than ashley (and they make it obvious by just. Ignoring Ashley). the promotional art calls ashley “very bad” and andrew “doormat extraordinnaire,” but whether or not that’s actually true is up for debate. regardless, we know he cares about ashley, and she’s been the only constant in his life just as much as he has been in hers (…even if that’s mostly ashley’s fault). his whole life has been shaped by the responsibility of keeping ashley happy and behaved, but he does it because he wants to, too. while it may have started as taking care of his baby sister in lieu of their parents, he’s accepted that ashley is his responsibility whether he wants her to be or not. we don’t know where the change from “his responsibility” to “his responsibility” happens, but we see it through his actions and dialogue and even flashbacks that he cares about her. ashley relies on saying she cares and hearing that she’s cared for, while andrew shows that he cares, and he cares for her A Lot.

(as a side analysis, we’re Shown that andrew cares more than we Hear that he cares. with ashley, we’re Told that she cares more than we See that she cares. interesting!)

fifth, the soundtrack!

oh my god. the soundtrack. from the main theme to a specific song in the decay route vision, the soundtrack does a Wonderful job of setting the tone for the game. soundtracks are just as important as every other aspect in games, movies, and tv shows, and the coffin soundtrack is a particular favorite of mine.

(check out the songs here)

the main theme (titled “twisted clowns”) is… well, great!! it sounds good, it sounds Ominous, a little silly, and every time i open the game, i listen to it for a bit before playing. it’s a perfect choice for the first song you hear of the game. it’s perfect for a horror game. i’m no expert on music, and frankly, i don’t know a lot of instruments, but this song has a lot of sinister sections that make it SO good!!

my personal favorite off the soundtrack is “dark bells.” the first time i heard it in game, i lost my mind. it’s SO sinister!! it’s scary!!! the part of the game it shows up in makes me feel like a rabid animal (in a positive way!). it’s also really pretty, and i’ve been listening to it for the past week or so. it hits so very differently hearing it in game. if you know, you know.

the game has little sounds that add to the atmosphere, but the game has absolutely No voices, so the sounds that are added are super noticeable and can add so much more to the game, especially where music is concerned. the composers did an Excellent job with every track, and i’m SUPER excited to hear any new tracks added in the third chapter. the songs fit every scene they’re played during, and guide the player’s reactions pretty well!!

conclusion

no one is forcing people to like the game. if it’s not your thing, you don’t have to make yourself like it. you don’t have to make yourself hate it. those of us who DO like it have our reasons, whether i listed them or not. sometimes things just don’t click with people, and that’s okay! your likes and dislikes are yours, and not everyone has to agree with you. not everyone has to agree with me!! disagreeing with someone does not make you better than them

everyone who likes the game went into it knowing that it was a horror game. horror is supposed to make you uncomfortable. discomfort is a natural, human emotion to feel. whether the murder, cannibalism, corrupt government, demons, theft, or incest made you uncomfortable, you are not morally superior to anyone for feeling that way. you don’t get brownie points for posting about how disgusting the game is, or how boring it is, or how much you hate it. you especially don’t get points for putting your negative opinions in the main tags. have some decency!!

tcoaal isn’t just “the incest game,” even if that is a part of it that i know of and enjoy. if it’s not your cup of tea, you can ignore it!! out of sight, out of mind!! blacklist the tags, block everyone with a coffin icon, you can do whatever you need to do to Not interact w it. most people will respect that!! so, respect us, too!!!!

anyways. every post i see about “haha ew incest” or “bad game” just makes me love the game more. it’s the best game i’ve played in a while!! i’ve enjoyed the coffin of andy and leyley more than omori, more than persona 5 royal, and more than undertale. i really liked all of those games, but the coffin of andy and leyley has been such an enjoyable experience from the start and i’m so happy i gave it a chance

#tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #analysis #writing this has been so much FUN #i love this game!!!!!!#coffin.txt

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that-ari-blogger · 5 months ago

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A Special Kind of Hypocrisy (Stayed Gone)

If you have been following my blog for a while, the fact that I take issue with the rules of writing will probably not be a surprise. I think that there are generally accepted guidelines, but these are tools and the best stories use them in unexpected ways.

“Put your readers in the action,” Darksouls is phenomenal and most of the stuff in that story has already happened. “Make your writing flow,” Turtles All The Way Down goes out of its way to feel jagged in order to portray the discomfort of its protagonist’s mind, and that is a book that shattered me for a solid week and a half.

“Show don’t tell”. That one is tricky. If an audience sees something, they are more likely to believe it, so it isn’t a tool for good writing, it’s a tool for making writing feel real. If it’s played straight, it can evoke a feeling of safety and trust, or can evoke emotions in a reader that are difficult to achieve otherwise. If subverted, this idea can present unease, deceit, or even hypocrisy.

Let me explain.

CONTENT WARNING: Not much in this one, but a standard warning because of the show I’m analysing. Gore, foul language, etc. Read at your own peril.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Hazbin Hotel, The Family Plan)

I feel like clarifying everything I am about to say with the fact that tropes aren’t bad, and that subverting everything doesn’t make for good writing. Stories are about using what you have to build something, and if that something is just a box you can put things in, it doesn’t need to be complicated.

For example, The Family Plan is a perfectly fun movie that I really enjoyed, and it doesn’t push any boundaries at all. It’s just got Mark Wahlberg playing a cooler version of himself and some road trip shenanigans crossed with a spy thriller. It doesn’t invent at all, but its tightly written, well shot, and genuinely quite funny.

I think we look at art these days from an overly critical fashion, evaluating how it contradicts tradition or makes a point that will be remembered for generations, and some stories are aiming for that, but some just want to be a fun ride, and that’s ok.

Some stories, however, want to be controversial, and want to ask questions. Most notably in this context, Hazbin Hotel.

Hazbin Hotel’s selling point is that it dissects morality on an intrinsic level, and part of this is done by the character of Alastor, whom is objectively a villainous character, but who serves as a protagonist for the majority of the season.

Alastor has a song in the pilot, but because I’m not covering that for my own reasons, let’s talk about his musical introduction to the actual series, Stayed Gone.

This song introduces Alastor as a villain, but not an especially powerful one, and I feel like that’s kind of the point. Alastor certainly has an ego, but he’s a parasite. He works by twisting people’s intentions into benefiting him. He’s a schemer, a talker, a forger of Faustian bargains. This song sets up what kind of evil Alastor works with, and it isn’t brute force.

This is exemplified by the music choice, in that Alastor doesn’t add anything at all to it. This is Vox’s song; Alastor just changes the direction a little.

From that perspective, this song depicts Vox more than Alastor, and explores how he causes his own downfall with the barest of inputs from his ex. Remember what I said in the start about show don’t tell? Let’s observe it in action.

Starting with the runup, because this feels heavy, right? It feels like someone is marching with that Mortal Combat style of walk that lets you know they mean to mess someone up. This sound is implicitly threatening.

Part of that is that it is so calm. There is nothing going on here, no fancy movements or anything of the sorts. The base line is the same two notes played an octave apart on repeat. It’s an A then an E played twice, then a few lower notes that rise higher before resolving back to that E. It's like the creature is taking a breath as it moves. A big, lumbering breath for a massive creature. It feels steady and adds variation.

Meanwhile, the higher chords are exactly the same as each other. A Major repeated four times, then the bottom two notes shift down by a semitone each, to throw the listener off balance.

But its more than that, right? These notes make you feel unsafe, there is intrinsic malice to the steadiness. I sent a friend of mine who knows music better than I do a message to try and work this out, and they mentioned that the higher notes give add suspense, which I think serves to make the bass part feel even heavier by comparison. They give you a moment to weight for that strike, like pulling back a bow string, and they give you something higher to contrast that low tone.

Then we get Vox’s singing voice. He’s been talking and vaguely rhyming up to this point, but now we get a song.

Also, there's a drum now. You would think this creates cohesion, but its offset, adding to that feeling of unease. It matches the second note of each bar to further accent the force of that first step by giving it some backwards force, then the same drum plays twice, once off the beat, once back on. Again, we’re lurching.

But notice how Vox’s sentences interact with the bars. Vox is the only thing that messes with the standard rhythm established by the backing music. Where everything is the same beat repeated each bar, Vox talks quickly for a bar then regains composure.

This is enjambment, linking ideas between thoughts and giving vox momentum. Now that weight has direction behind it, and judging by his word choice, that being the repeated use of the pronoun “you”, that direction is towards you.

Skipping ahead for a moment, I’ve found a ton of disagreement in the online sheet music for this song as to whether there is a tempo change for when the TV goes live.

If there is, you could analyse it and point out how it portrays the superficiality of Vox as a person and how he presents as someone less in control of himself when on camera. Maybe there is a question of which the real Vox is, the composed version or the manic newscaster. Maybe.

On the other hand, maybe there is nothing there, and I am going to wield executive privileges gained from this being my blog and go with my favourite one, this one. (I also used this one, for the record, I just prefer the first)

The score I followed gets so much more complicated once the television starts going, and so do the visuals, honestly. Everything about Vox gets so much more complicated, every joke is earning your attention like a TikTok, terrified you’ll look away. This is how advertising works on YouTube by the way, at least the adds that have to contend with the skip button. They compress everything into five second chunks because they need your full focus.

There are a few jokes in here of note. I would be foolish to not mention the venison pun, but none of them are of particular importance, which paradoxically makes them extremely important.

Notice here, he presents two versions of himself. The purpose of a conversation is to have two different perspectives come together, even if they are similar. But this is the same guy pretending to be varied.

Nothing that Vox says means anything at all. It is all one liners and insults, there is nothing going on behind those eyes, and that is exactly the point. He is all talk, no show.

Vox says he’s powerful, he says he will mess up Alastor’s day, his music makes you feel scared, and yet he is empty.

There is a disconnect between what he tells you and he shows you, which is made even more obvious by his obsession with Alastor. Everything he is saying is “Alastor doesn’t matter, he’s insignificant, meaningless, that’s why I wrote this song to tell him as such.” It’s like an ex who is insisting the breakup hasn’t affected him.

Which, side note, sets Vox up as the type of villain who doesn’t respect boundaries. He’s a stalker obsessed with someone who will not reciprocate his affection.

Vox is the personification of those “I can fix him” twitter incels that view sexuality as a challenge to be overcome. He’s one of a triumvirate of chronically online villains, and trust me, there are people out there in real life who are worse than him.

In his watch through and analysis of Hazbin Hotel, @ohnoitstbskyen posited the idea that, since Alastor doesn’t sing his own song at any point in the actual series, we don’t get any moments of interiority. I would like to politely disagree.

Alastor’s entire deal, as presented in this show, is being a Machiavellian schemer. Like I said earlier, he’s a parasite. What we learn about his interiority here is that he doesn’t ever bother to create, he just steals and repurposes.

It’s that thing about Alastor where the show doesn’t tell you what he wants, it just shows you how he works as a person and how he moves towards his goals.

Case and point, here Alastor just takes Vox’s song and makes it his own, offering questions about Vox’s strengths and pointing out the hypocrisy. Although it's interesting what Alastor choses to highlight, because that does shed some interiority.

“Is Vox as strong as he proports? Or is it based off his support? He’d be powerless without the other Vees”

In other words: look at this guy, he has friends that he relies on.

Now, the Vees are awful human beings, Valentino especially but Vox isn’t too great either. But by far their least bad trait is the fact that they support each other. Again, they are cruel, vile entities, but they are cruel vile entities together.

To my knowledge, Vox doesn’t ever deny that he is working with others, or even obfuscate that knowledge.

It would seem that Alastor, in his attempt to criticize his opponent, has revealed something about himself. That sounds a bit hypocritical to me.

Speaking of which, Alastor is entirely hypocrisy. He spends the entirety of the series talking a big game about how strong and powerful he is, but he never actually demonstrates that. He turns off the electricity in the city, but that’s not strength, that’s flicking a switch. He makes threats, and yet doesn’t back any of them up.

“You still pissed he almost beat you that time?”

“Almost” is a key word in that question, it would seem Alastor has a bit of an ego problem.

Which leads me back to the concept of tell don’t show, because if you don’t show your audience something, they don’t trust it. Alastor and Vox are paired up because they both keep talking and proclaiming their intimidation factor, and yet neither of them actually demonstrate any power beyond that which is normal.

Yes, they mow down mooks, but so do Angel Dust, and Husk, and Sir Pentious.

Before I finish up, I want to talk a bit about how performance can affect personality, and with that I want to contrast a cover with the original.

This is a cover by Annapantsu, Cami-cat, and Chloe Breez. I highly recommend checking it out.

But I want to note how different the acting choices are to the original. I’m not saying one is better, I’m saying they are different.

First, Anna’s version of Vox is so much wilder than the original. Like, the version in the actual series rockets between emotions like a greyhound on skates, but when he is in control, he usually has that malevolent smile that tells you he enjoys messing with your perceptions. I don’t think Anna’s version of the character would ever smile except in that forced, news presenter way. This character seems permanently unbalanced and making only the barest effort to present as otherwise.

She also seems like a more active character than the original, who can only react to Alastor’s advances. This version of the character might make an appearance in a later episode beyond the gratuitous dad-watching-the-big-game commentary of the final fight. Maybe she rocks up to the hotel while Charlie, Vaggie and Alastor are on their quests for allegiances in order to just menace the characters in a way they are completely unprepared for.

Meanwhile, all that posturing has been put onto Alastor. Who has one main difference in performance, but one that shakes up the rest of the song. This version of Alastor is put together, just like the show. She’s casual and almost disinterested, just like the show. She’s detached and hands off, just like the show. Until that final verse.

Then she growls, and that little break in character implies that this version is concealing a much more physical menace. The best way I can put the difference is this: For the original version, it seems like transforming is an effort and something that he becomes. For this version, I think the transformation is Alastor’s natural state, and it is taking every fibre of her being to hold together the façade of civility.

Final Thoughts

I despise the concept of genre, and this is actually a good example of why, because… what is this song? Is it pop? Is it rock? Is it jazz? You could argue it is anything, but I would argue it doesn’t matter.

This song is fun, that’s all that matters. It sets up two villains, one of whom I think could have used more screen time in the series, but ho hum, and the other who got so much screen time and yet remains so mysterious.

Next week, I’ll be covering It Starts With Sorry, and I am genuinely shocked by how many people don’t like that number. I think it’s great. Stick around if seeing me argue that point interests you.

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#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #what's so special about...?#character analysis #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #annapantsu #chloe breez #cami-cat #meta #meta analysis

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ticklemewiggly · 4 months ago

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no, i don’t want cinderella’s castle spoilers.. but the PARASITES in me want cinderella’s castle spoilers..

#pls don’t send me spoilers this is a joke #i am dying out here tho #i need that digital ticket..#team starkid #starkid #cinderella’s castle #cinderellas castle #mine

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ghosts-and-glory · 5 months ago

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I'm on a horror movie binge rn. Lmao I'd like to ask: what do you recommend? What are your favorites? (The one I'm watching currently is so mf boring but I'ma see it through)

I know I said I’m a film buff on Instagram and I know you saw it and I almost feel I HAVE to clarify that some of my tastes are like objectively bad. I like DARKSTAR (1974) But boy do I have recommendations.

Animated

9 (2009) It’s number 2 on my list of faves. Very very good movie

Mad God (2021) Absolutely a visual masterpiece, kinda lack plot, more vibe based.

The House (2022)

It’s a classic for a reason

The Exorcist (1973)

The Thing (1982) My all time favourite movie

The Conjuring (2013)

Parasite (2019)

Nope (2022)

Silence of the Lambs (1991)

The Mist (2007)

Not a horror but still disturbing

Schindler’s List (1993) Had to watch it in two sittings cause I felt sick

Seven (1995)

American History X (1998)

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) Another movie I just personally love

Mid teir but I was entertained

Barbarian (2022)

Talk To Me (2022)

The Taking of Deborah Logan (2014)

Hereditary (2018) I’m sorry I laughed through this movie. The ending is really funny tho.

So bad it’s good

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) Only slasher I like and I fucking love this movie.

The Invisible Man (2022) One of my favourite bad movies

Grimcutty (2022) Watched with family and lost our minds

Hell house LLC (2005)

The Decent (2005)

Tv show honourable mentions

Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities (2022) It’s a anthology and very very good

Midnight Mass (2021)

The Fall of the House of Usher (2023)

From (2022) Kind a thriller but the gore fucks so hard.

Hight On My Watch List

Movie I wanna recommend cause I’ve heard really really good things but have yet to get my hands on.

As Above So Below (2014)

Come and See (1986)

Skinamarink (2023)

Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum (2018)

If I think of more I’ll add them. Unfortunately I don’t really have any hidden gems, most of these are relatively mainstream. It’s probably cause my memory is shit and it’s either movies I watched recently or movies that really stuck with me.

If I’m missing a mainstream movie it’s probably just because I don’t like it or haven’t seen it. I’m sorry I don’t like midsommer or the witch, I think they’re boring and not really scary. I also mostly cut movies that are horror comedies like Tusk or Cabinet in the Woods, even tho I like them haha. And I don’t really watch/ like slashers, sorry Saw and Scream movies.

I also want to mention that some movies have more triggering content ie sa and animal death. I highly recommend websites like “Common Sense Media” and “Does the Dog Die” for relatively spoiler free trigger warnings for a comfortable horror experience.

#my post #ask

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realclemhours · 5 months ago

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Hey so I finished Dungeon Meishi (manga included) and I wanna have a 3 a.m ramble about some of my thoughts about the ending

MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING BELOW THE CUT‼️

Okay so the ending honestly left me a tad disappointed. Don’t get me wrong there was still a ton of shit I loved and I am willing to hear people out who love this ending and get it more than I do, but first let me get into the things I do like.

The winged lion was such a fantastic final villain. The way it sweet talked genuinely made it sound so supportive that I kept flip-flopping on whether or not he was telling the truth despite FULLY knowing at this point that it was evil.

Laios turning into the beast he had designed since childhood, making one last change so he could eat desires, and using that to consume the wing lion was such an amazing play.

Everyone showing up after Laios ran away, then finding him, and Shuro hugging and showing pride in him was just so oughhhhh made me tear up a bit.

I absolutely LOVED the Itzusumi chapter where she asked all the main characters what they were going to do after the main story and finally came to terms with doing things she didn’t want to do.

I really love that Mithrun and Thistle got closure despite being antagonists and previous dungeon lords. It shows that they were just humans who were corrupted by the dungeon and deserve to recover just like our main protags and that’s really sweet :))

Finally, I’m just happy that the orcs actually get to live on the surface now. They deserve that

Anyways those are all the major things I liked/loved, there’s some other things obviously, but let me get to my issues

Okay first of all but it feels like in the last like 20 chapters outside of Laios and Marcielle the main cast doesn’t really do much. Like yeah, they’re there and they do talk, but the only time they ever really do things is like as a group? They’re either all acting a parasite or cooking a meal or trying to catch up the winged dragon in Laios’s body or they are just doing nothing while Marcielle or Laios is doing the protag stuff.

It’s kinda disappointing to me to be honest. They’ve build such bonds and built such likeable characters only to go “uhhh actually only Laios can do anything in the final fight against the demon and the others just stand and watch confused”. Which again, while Laios’s plan was really cool I just wish the others in the main cast got to contribute to the final battle. Have them all have their little time to shine you know?

I also personally don’t like that Laios became king and the curse. I just personally kinda prefer when protags give up that sort of thing to live a simplistic life. Honestly kinda wish Kabru became king in Laios’s place, but then again if Laios didn’t step up as king Marcielle would be in jail, the orcs would still be exiled, and the current leaders of the island would still be in charge and continue to be greedy and incompetent.

So uhhhhh yeah maybe best he became king even if I’m not fond of it-

But then we have the curse, which oooooo boy. I get that like Laios has to sacrifice something great to defeat a literal demon, but losing the ability to be around monsters entirely?? I can’t fully explain why but I just really dislike it. It makes me feel just kinda sad. But not sad like it’s a bittersweet sacrifice (Hiccup losing his leg in How to Train Your Dragon comes to mind as a bittersweet sacrifice I love), but just unsatisfying? Like yeah, the protagonist saved the world and his sister is now safe but now is life is kinda miserable since he has to deal with people all the time and can never see monsters again.Hurray 🎉

Don’t get me wrong I feel like Laios should absolutely lose something from fighting the demon. Not sure what exactly (maybe his desires for food or monsters or a limb), but what they ended up going with was just kinda disappointing to me.

Anyways those are just my takeaways from the ending. Let me know if I’m missing anything, I would love to discuss and maybe get my mind changed.

Overall, did the ending ruin Dunmeshi for me? Oh absolutely not. This was such a fantastic story and world that enthralled me till the end (even if it did lose me a bit at the end). Would still genuinely give it a 10/10 despite my complaints. I liked it that much.

If you asked me to summarize how the ending made me feel in relation to the rest of the series, well I would best compare it to a meal. Most of the meal is no joke 5 star best stuff I have ever eaten in my life. Then I get to my last item… some dessert. The dessert tastes amazing- but the texture is a bit odd and it bugs me to the point where I notice and feel how weird it was. Would I still hate the rest of the meal for the one slightly weird dessert? Absolutely not! I would still recommend the meal to everyone I know even with the off dessert at the end because everything else was just that fantastic.

Anyways yeah maybe the real Dunmeshi was the friends we made along away and then ate as we faced the fear of mortality and ancient gods beyond our comprehension <3

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon manga #dungeon meshi manga #dunmeshi manga #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #discussion #rant #ending discussion #manga spoilers #manga #clemrambles

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skinks · 1 year ago

Text

SPOILERS FOR SALTBURN

I haven’t seen Promising Young Woman but I did just see Saltburn and now I’m so dubious about Fennell’s politics that I’m basically obligated to see PYW to confirm my suspicions. It’s not that I think she’s conservative necessarily, but more that she’s so upper class London nepo baby rich that she could aspire to socialist feminism as much as she likes but it’ll never land because her background precludes her from ever having anything relevant to say about class.

There were things I liked about Saltburn. The editing, performances, black humour, costumes, sets, cinematography (NOT the aspect ratio - will explain) and the ballsiness of certain “transgressive” scenes I did appreciate. This is what makes it so frustrating and disappointing as a film. If you turn your brain off, it’s a wild ride, quite hypnotic and lovely to look at in that specific dreamy way that the dark, cool interiors of a house get on the hottest days of the summer. I hated the 4:3 aspect ratio though, it was POINTLESS. Why was it used? Surely it would have made more sense to capture the grand expansiveness of the titular estate in widescreen? It just felt twee for twee’s sake, like it was shot to produce compositions ready-cropped for big gifs on tumblr.

The “shocking” “transgressive” “erotic” stuff is not particularly any of those things. I mean, for me anyway. It might titillate the type of new-puritan gen z-ers who self censor it to “seggs”, but there was only one sequence that felt really “wow, I haven’t seen that in movie before!” levels of Going There. And even then these scenes always felt self-consciously affected, like Fennell only included them because she wanted to write a movie with fReAkY stuff, as opposed to the freaky stuff coming organically from the characters. I remember sitting in the cinema to see Call Me By Your Name feeling like I was burning to a crisp at the scene where Elio huffs a pair of a man’s used swim trunks - because it felt so authentic to this expression of a character who is at critical levels of desperate teenage horniness. In Saltburn, when Oliver gets down on his knees and slurps Felix’s jizzy bath water, it’s like… okay? Why? What does he want? We saw him lie about knowledge of the fancy plates to ingratiate himself to the dad, we already have reason to distrust anything he says, so it’s hard to believe he has any authentic desire for Felix. And that’s the main problem with the whole movie - the writing is fairly atrocious.

There’s no mystery. There’s no ANYTHING. There’s a tiny quick-cut flash montage of future events in the movie right at the start of the thing, so already we’re going in with no doubts that Oliver is gonna go nuts. So we know that bad shit is gonna happen, and yet the movie pulls out a big Twist Ending reveal like we… weren’t supposed to know that he’s been bad from the beginning? We don’t need all these flashbacks to show us he’d planned his dastardly deeds offscreen the whole time when we’ve already seen him commit OTHER dastardly deeds ONSCREEN. He’s given zero motivation. He tells us he did what he did because he hates this rich family, starting with Jacob Elordi’s Felix, but he had planned the whole thing from before they ever even met, or saw how the family treats the other two main victims of class in the film, Pamela and Farleigh. When Oliver starts spinning his web, Felix has never been anything but genuinely kind to him. Felix never did him any personal wrong except being born handsome, popular, and rich.

That’s the other glaring issue. Fennell has said this is supposed be another one of these “eat the rich” satires, but…. beyond the usual foot-in-mouth clueless social blunders, the movie portrays none of the rich family as even all that bad. Oliver isn’t even all that poor! His family are revealed to be extremely comfortably upper-middle class! This is not Parasite!!! The worst ethical thing they do is cut off Farleigh from family money - but it’s obvious to the audience that this is actually Oliver’s fault. So all we’re left with is this main character who’s the worst of the lot, with no reason to do what he’s doing except for being an asocial loser creep. If you’re making a class satire in Britain and your message at the end of the film is “those creepy disgusting middle class will pervert and mutate themselves to have what the beautiful victimised rich people do” you’ve… uhh. Failed. Somewhere along the line.

It wants to be The Talented Mr Ripley, but it is confused and stupid. Given Fennell’s background and social circle, is it any wonder? It’s like she’s looked around at her fellow Eton Oxford lot and thought “so the poors hate us because we’re a bit silly and old fashioned, right? no wonder they’re jealous, we’re all so sexy and our houses are so nice! Of course they’d do anything to have this!” She hasn’t seemed to conceive of the fact that the working class in Britain hate the upper class because millions live in genuine poverty while they get to obstruct social change because of archaic birthright. That many people in Britain don’t actually want to be the upper class, they want an end to them.

The thing is, I had fun watching it. I laughed a lot, and then left the cinema distinctly unimpressed, as one often does after interacting with people who go to private school and are perfectly charming but clearly still think they’re better/smarter than you because they have generational land, or multiple houses. I worked for 6 years as the stable groom for the heiress to a publishing fortune, I’ve met plenty of these people, believe me. All this to say, that this is deeply frustrating because I would like to turn my brain off from the dodgy politics and just appreciate a movie that goes out of its way to be visually stylish and includes a scene where a sobbing Barry Keoghan gets naked and fucks the fresh grave of his boy best friend. Now that’s entertainment

#I love freaky weird stuff in movies that’s my favourite stuff #but not when it thinks it’s cool and clever for being freaky and weird #that’s being a tryhard #your movie should be freaky and weird because you are freaky and weird

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multicolour-ink · 1 year ago

Note

This is for the prompt

Mario "i beg of you please, don't hurt Luigi"

"I beg of you, please, don’t hurt [name]"

writing prompts

Takes place in the Mario Movie verse SPOILERS FOR SUPER PAPER MARIO

(further authors notes under the cut)

- - -

It was supposed to turn out differently.

Get the Pure Hearts, save all the worlds. That was how it was supposed to go.

Except now they found themselves facing against the unhinged jester who they had thought was merely Bleck's minion; along with a creation of his own monstrosity.

And Luigi was caught right in the middle of it.

"Isn't this delightful?", Dimentio's almost musical voice trilled. "What a glorious construction of myself and our Man in Green!"

Mario didn't answer. He clenched his fists, eyes burning. Neither he nor his companions could move because magical binds were latched around their wrists, their power forcing them to kneel on the ground.

"Surely", continued the jester, his eyes equally burning back with gleeful malice, "You ought to thank your brother for this wonderful turn of events."

Mario's heart stung as he looked at his brother. Luigi was pinned in place. Dark magic in part from Dimentio and the Chaos Heart prevented him from moving anywhere, locked in a fabricated prison. Even more disturbingly, the floral sprout that had seized control of him the moment Dimentio had activated it, had crawled ever tighter around the gaps of his cheek bones, across his mouth, and around his neck. Winding ever so much further down his body until every limb was under command of the parasite.

"You cannot begin to imagine how much I have dreamt of this moment!", Dimentio cried as he floated next to Luigi.

The green plumber still seemed to have life in him, for he whimpered and attempted to move away from Dimentio's very presence. Mario saw glints of tears in those innocent blue eyes.

"Getting the heroes to do all the work. Pretending to be the Count's loyal minion and acting like I was invested in his plan to destroy the worlds, when all I really wanted to do was recreate everything in my own perfect image! And to top it all off, the fabled Man in Green is the brother of the hero!"

Dimentio suddenly stopped his monologue and quick as a blink was right in front of Mario.

"So tell me, Man in Red", asked the jester. His eyes bore into Mario with manic exhilaration. "Doesn't that get you excited?"

Mario growled in response. It was all he could do, for his shaking wrists were bound so tight that he couldn't move them to strike even if he wanted to. All he could do was glare back with a look so scorching, it would've no doubt melted Dimentio on the spot.

The jester looked over Mario in thought, and then he pressed a glowing hand to Mario's chest. Mario gasped and tried to throw him off, but the jester's dark magic kept him firmly in place. The plumber felt like he was being searched inside. A powerful force was making its way in places that it shouldn't ever be and Mario was frozen in place, beside himself as he found himself unable to even speak.

He heard Peach give a cry of concern.

Seeming to find what he was looking for, the jester then gave an amused smirk and lifted his hand away. Mario gasped as if he had been submerged in water, and just as quickly the hatred he felt for this twisted jester came back in force.

"Interesting", Dimentio spoke up before Mario could. He paused and looked back at Luigi. The green plumber had seemingly reacted to whatever the jester had been doing to Mario, as the tears were now pouring down his cheeks and the vines had wrapped around him even tighter.

"I wonder what would happen...?", the jester mused as he turned back to Mario. He grinned widely.

"How would it feel, if the piece of him that resides within you were to just...disappear?"

Mario shook with hatred.

Dimentio cackled.

"Oh it's perfect!", he shrieked. "Hurt the enemy through love. So poetic! But in my world, you won't need any feelings like that."

He snapped his fingers and the vines holding Luigi's limbs loosened a little and the green plumber slumped to the ground.

Mario heard him sobbing.

"Witness the birth of a new world! My world!", Dimentio cried joyfully. "You will wither away as I remake this pitiful existence. Get ready for the Greatest Sh-"

He was suddenly cut off as something struck him hard in the chest. Dimentio shrieked again as he was thrown back by the force, tumbling and rolling over before colliding with the nearest wall.

The jester staggered to his feet, hand to his chest. His breaths pained.

The air was suddenly silent, save for the laboured breaths of Mario, who had somehow broken out of the magical binds and had punched Dimentio with every ounce of strength he had. It seemed to take a lot out of him though, for the red plumber stumbled as he tried to right himself up. His fist shook from both exhaustion and anger, as he stared the jester down, daring him to make another move.

Peach, Bowser, Tippi, and everyone else were equally as stunned and afraid as they gazed at the Red Hero. Luigi looked too through glazed eyes; admiration and fear for his brother temporarily overcoming the magic.

Dimentio looked down at his chest as he took his hand away. The diamond on his chest was now cracked, shards falling away from it like dust.

For a fleeting moment the jester stared in disbelief, and then all too quickly his expression became jovial and dangerous again.

"Well", he said coldly. "This got interesting."

And before anyone else could react he somersaulted up into the air again and landed behind Luigi. To everyone's horror, he yanked Luigi's head back, one hand pressed into the green plumber's throat.

Mario's heart stopped.

"Please", his voice trembled. "I beg of you please, don't hurt Luigi!"

He hated having to act like this. He hated having to beg to that jester who he more than anything wanted to do worst things to. But he'd made a grave mistake. He had aggravated Dimentio even more, and there was no telling what he was going to do now. He had to hold it back. For the sake of his brother.

But Dimentio only grinned.

"That's how we're going to play, Man in Red? So be it."

He moved the hand that was holding Luigi's throat away, and snapped his fingers.

All at once, Luigi let out a guttural scream, as the floral sprout glowed red and sprouted even more vines around him, wrapping him tighter and tighter. Very soon he slumped forward. His eyes didn't even hold any emotion, for they were now fully glazed over with no recognition at all.

"Luigi!", Mario cried. His heart pounded as he didn't breathe, didn't think, only able to watch as his brother was taken somewhere he couldn't follow.

"Time", said Dimentio giving a gracious bow in front of his creation. "For the Ultimate Showdown!"

- - -

Authors notes under the cut

So...Dimentio in the Mario Movie verse?

In all seriousness, wanting Dimentio in the movie verse is an idea I've had for a while, and I even drew up some ideas of what he might look like. I don't know if or when I will ever post them (for they are unfinished), and for a while I just let it go as I got caught up in other things, and drawing anything SPM was becoming taxing. But then I saw this prompt show up in my inbox and I thought "Oh yeah, I know exactly what to do for this one!"

I understand that in terms of the actual movie verse, they can't go too dark in terms of the character himself, but just picturing Dimentio acting as such a flamboyant and psychotic clown (where have I seen that before?) at the very end is something I really would love to see, no joke! I think it would be pretty fun. There's nothing wrong with this new verse playing around with characters a little.

Anyway, hope you all like. I understand if this is not what the anon was expecting...but I hope they also enjoy it too.

Take care <3

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