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#I felt so sad most of the episode
miss0atae · 3 months
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Random thoughts about Dead Friend Forever episode 11 :
It’s the second to last episode before the end of the series. This episode gave us the final flashback, I believe. We now know what happened after Tee brought Non to his uncle.
▪️ First thing first, I’m glad I was wrong about what happened to No. I really thought he would end up sex-trafficking to repay his debts, but it was less horrible. Don’t get me wrong, it was still a very dreadful situation. At first, Tee’s Uncle wanted to sell his organs, but Tee spoke up for Non and he got spared. Instead of being killed and his organs sold, Non ended up working in the illegal casino of Tee’s Uncle. I don’t know how Non still found the will to live because he lost everything. He never deserved any of the shits that happened to him. He was abused, exploited, abandoned, beaten and scared for no reason. He was just different and all those who hurt him did it because they just couldn’t accept this difference. I’m glad he lashed at Tee and asked him why he had to endure all of that. He just wanted to finish a stupid short movie. He was a normal kid who wanted to do something he likes and his life turned into hell. I felt like crying when Non said he was a loser and couldn’t even get back to his parents because they wouldn’t care for him (which we know is not true but Non never got to know it). The worst thing is Tee didn’t have any answer to give him because they never had any good reasons to be this mean to him.
▪️ The hardest part was watching Non becoming this empty shell while working at the casino. He had a vacant look. His face was still messed up from his beating. He was also hunched and he was unsteady when walking. You could see, he was barely clinging to life. He was also coughing a lot which made me see that he never really got better after being beaten and he must have been exhausted from working a lot. I really wanted someone to just miraculously appear and save him from this hell but this is not the tone of this series.
▪️ This episode was clearly centered around Tee’s side of the story. We saw how guilty he felt to Non and how he wanted to make him leave his Uncle’s place as quickly as possible. He started to work more at the casino and for his Uncle’s embezzlement schemes (don’t know if it is how you should call it). He also got a part-time job at an internet cafe, where he found a way of making more money to give them to Non. Every time, he saw Non, it was a reminder of how he fucked up. Many times, he referred to Non as his friend during the episode. I don’t know if he truly believed it or if it was just the guilt. Non and him had a weird relationship. It was clearly emphasizes during the part where Tee gave him a money envelop. The way Non looked at him and how he reacted it… I don’t know, I felt there were a lot of nonverbal communication between them at this moment. I’m probably over analyzing this part.
▪️ After this moment, we had a glimpse of Tee’s life with his father. We previously heard about him in previous episodes but never got to see it. Tee came back home and couldn't find his father. He isn’t well and Tee is the one who has to take care of him. It clearly has a negative impact on Tee since he must be the responsible one when he should just live a normal teenager’s life. He wishes to have this life he can’t have, instead he has to be involved in his Uncle’s life to be able to get money and to survive. As always, with DFF, you see, this is never all-or-nothing. Tee has a very hard life and he has troubles keeping himself afloat, but at the same time he didn’t hesitate to use and abuse Non to serve his own interest. He knew it would be terrible. How can he not know it? He said to his father he didn’t want to be involved in this gray business. I think you can feel sad for him and understand how difficult it can be, but also vilified him for what he’s done to Non. If only he had found the help he needed before… I don’t know how he would have turned. We would never have this story, I guess.
▪️ This series loves to blow hot and cold. You start to feel pity for Tee and this series shows you, you can’t. The next scene is Tee coming to the casino and not finding Non. Perth is the one telling him and us why. That’s where we discover Non being dead. He died… I can’t accept it. It may sounds crazy but I had this idea of him being away and having a really good reason to not be here in the present… I wanted it to be true. Unfortunately, it isn’t. Non is dead. He died of exhaustion… This is so sad! Tee is as lost as us, viewers. I know the group is at fault with Non, but frankly I was mostly furious with Tee’s Uncle in this scene (This man is a freaking cancer and manipulator). At the beginning of the episode, after Tee spoke up for Non, we learn from his Uncle how Non’s debt isn’t that high in fact. He should have been able to pay it and move on with his life. Instead, he died of exhaustion after everything he went through, alone and sad. He never learned about how his parents did everything to find him, how they died… The only person who knew about his death at that time was Tee… The only person who cried for him at the end was Tee… someone who made him get to this point. Cruel irony! I really cried when reading the message on the paper where he said: “I’m gonna get out of this place. I’m not a loser”. Shit! That hurts. He was counting the day. I can’t believe Tee did nothing after discovering it. He just decided to be sad and depressed. That’s his answer… Yes, he cried. I also cried. Did it change anything? No… I wish he at least tried to do something to avenge him… anything. Even, if it didn’t work.
▪️ Tee decided he just didn’t deserves happiness but happiness found him anyway. That’s when White came into the picture. He just arrived at the internet cafe and apparently became very interested in Tee. They started to spend a lot of time together. White was this flirty and cute boy who wanted to charm his crush. They were cute. I mean the series did something magical because I couldn’t stand Tee and I still found his burgeoning relationship with White, cute and charming. Being in love with White, made Tee realized he could be a good person and he should do his most to get better. It would have been sweet in another series. Right now, it just feels flat after what happened to Non. Poor White, never knew the truth until Tee told his side of the story. White really has nothing to do with Non and he is just a poor boy who fell in love with someone he shouldn't have which dragged him into this mess. He truly is innocent and I will get mad if anything happen to him. I don’t care about the others. They can all die, but not White. If there is only one who deserves to leave this house alive, it’s him.
▪️ Back into the present, Phee takes the gun from Fluke and he wants to stop this madness but Tan/New is set on making everyone pay for what happened to his brother. He has nothing to lose anymore and he will not let Phee stand in the way of his revenge. Besides, he never completely trust him. He starts to smoke and everyone pass out because of it.
Next week is going to be the conclusion of his revenge. How is it going to end? Will Tan/New get justice for his brother? Is anyone going to be alive at the end of the next episode? I’m dying to know. It’s going to be really hard waiting for this last episode. Until now, this series has been really entertaining and I hope the end will be great. I don’t want to feel disappointed.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
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Truth and revenge is best served cold.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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porto-rosso · 30 days
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brother where is the charles appreciation
#so dark out here#umm dead boy detectives review here we go! first two episodes were definitely the worst of the series. both are kinda weirdly paced and#the exposition is done poorly in places. overall from episode 3 onwards it gets much much better with pacing and show dont tell#do not understand for the life of me why they made crystal palace american#kassius nelson (<- crystals actress) was very good in places and kinda ehhh in others and im 90% the issue for most of the latter moments#was just that her american accent is not great. sorry they did that to you queen#dialogue was a bit dodge sometimes as well#stuff i liked now! the plot felt quite solid and i really enjoyed the monster of the week approach i think thats the perfect way to#do a dbd adaptation. was a bit annoyed they immediately went to america but port townsend was an interesting setting and all the#supernatural elements/characters fit in nicely#major props cos i feel like the show mostly pulled off the emotionally charged moments without getting corny and the dialogue was generally#good in those moments#particularly charles/crystals heart to heart in ep. 3 and like the entirety of episode 7 (<- ep 7 was brilliant)#overall very fun watch and i feel that the more irritating typical YA show garb was at least a bit offset by them being willing to get#quite dark in places#bit sad people are mostly posting about edwin becos charles was my favourite. has been entertaining watching americans scramble around#the cultural differences in the show#shaking my inbox like a maraca. if anyone wants to talk at me abt the show i will love you forever#.log
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sillylittlerock · 5 months
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grover is in desperate need of a hug and i would be willing to give him one
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cleargreyskies · 1 year
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It has now been 12 hours after I watched it and I have finally made up my mind that I am underwhelmed by the Ted Lasso finale. (spoilers and typos in the tags)
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takeyourhands · 5 months
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anyways. finally finished monkie s3 tonight
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keclan · 1 year
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i also caught up on rwby today and robbie daymond cheshire cat is the highlight for me simply bc i like his voice.
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for whom good omens is being written
Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:
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The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.
And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:
'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."
'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'
He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'
(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'
And, finally, this paragraph:
"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"
I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.
Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")
Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)
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"I hate being wrong in public, everyone forget I said that." TWELVE, MY GOOD, RELATABLE BITCH.
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frogmascquerade · 1 year
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#big fan of the way jodie approaches/approached her role as the doctor :)#like listening to interviews n podcasts n stuff w her talking about how she was thinking of how to act#and how to be the doctor and dealing w the public's reaction to being a woman and being the first woman and how much of an impact#that gender does and doesnt have on the role#super interesting to me!#makes me hopeful for future actors who might be aware of this stuff too :) both cis men and ppl who arent cis men#and it makes me excited/nervous/hopeful for ncuti as well and how his take on the doctor will be and hopefully he'll be receieved well#altho i do wish theyd kinda stop calling him the first gay doctor bc... hello....#even tho i know the doctor is kinda unlabeled and theyve talked about it on the show before#but these fools better not forget about 13 and yaz 🤚🤚🤚🤚 idc how underdeveloped their relationship was. they are very real to ME#and they are real to THEM so thank you everyone#for coming to my ted talk#im excited for the 60th anniv. but extra excited for s14 (if theyll call it that lol idk how the bbc separates specials and the seasons)#and super hoping we'll get to see capt jack return. maybe river. maybe yaz altho i think her and 13 felt special so i think#shed be a guest role but i would still v much enjoy it :)#but whoever the new companion is/are im excited to see them too wow im just happy for new episodes !!!#oh and i know the regen from tennant to ncuti is gonna be good but i am slightly sad we dont get to see 13 to ncuti like that would be such#a rush of emotions that i think is so crucial to that scene#like from 10 to 11 i think gives me the most whiplash and 11 to 12 was heartbreaking too and 12 to 13 was so sweet and and sad but exciting#as well#and 9 to 10 was quick but set up the idea so well and eccleston summed it up so well
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charlotte-zophie · 6 months
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Therapy conversation
Dear Fandom, dear Mr. Gaiman,
I hope this isn´t weird but i have something to confess.
Since I watched the second season of Good Omens, I've gone through so many phases that I barely recognize myself anymore.
My first reaction after episode 6 was shock, then I was disturbed because I didn't know that it was possible for a series to have such a strong influence on my psyche, I questioned myself and doubted my sanity. Then I was overcome by an incredible sadness and was really heartbroken. I felt like a pubescent teenager, in my mid-30s. I couldn't sleep properly for several days, had nightmares and my thoughts were with these two ineffable loving idiots the whole time.
And the worst thing about it was that for the first few days I was really ashamed to admit to myself and my husband that I was completely and hopelessly immersed in this world. I did nothing but watch videos, listen to sad songs, and read heartbreaking fanfictions for days. And of course I read the book again and watched the series over and over again. All in the hope that it will ease my heartache a little.
But as is often the case in these situations, after a few days in which no real change occurs, you have the thought that you will be lost in this feeling forever. But since I have 3 children that I need to look after, of course locking myself away for weeks with heartbreak wasn't an option, so I had to find an outlet for myself to channel my pain.
So I started painting a picture. By Aziraphale and Crowley. And stroke by stroke I let my feelings flow out of me and into the picture.
It took over a week until I had a motif in which I could see my thoughts and feelings expressed and then it took another week until I finished the picture. On an old canvas with paints that haven't been used for a long time, with many, many layers of old paint underneath.
But when the picture was finally finished, it really took a load off my mind. It was like I had broken a dam and was finally able to let it all out and convert it into creative energy.
But I think the most important thing was that I uploaded the picture to Tumblr and received such a response that I was incredibly touched and immediately motivated to paint more pictures.
Since that day, hardly a moment goes by when I am not holding a pen in my hand or not thinking about a new picture. I'm in one of the most creative phases in a very long time and I'm really enjoying it.
I am so grateful for the wonderful people here! Here I see that I'm not alone with my strange feelings that I still don't really know how to classify. Here I read thoughts that are so similar to mine, here I see works of art that melt my heart, here I feel understood!
And I am so grateful for the pain that showed me the way back to my creative energy!
Thank you Fandom!
Thank you Neil Gaiman!
I would have been lost without you!
Because I don't know my way around here very well, I didn't think about pinning the picture in question as a link when I created this post, but since many people have asked about it, I've pinned it here. Thank you all, love love love
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inkskinned · 7 months
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the body is such a strange and vapid creature. i am eating soup with noodles that i cooked in a microwave. i don't know how microwaves work, only that most of my meals come from her yellow mouth. i put mine on the fridge; i have to stand on tip toes to take the bowl out, balancing it on fingertips.
i have to eat soup because i'm coughing up blood.
when you have been raised wrong, conditions of alarm are offset. which is to say that three weeks ago, i had a panic attack because i thought i saw him the liquor store. i collapsed into a heap, ready to sob into multicolored gin bottles. it was just someone who looked a lot like him, working a shitty 9-5. the poor man. what must it be like, to have someone go pale at your profile.
i spoke too loudly during a zoom meeting, and nobody answered immediately. the shame of that scoured my entire ribcage clean. i hated the experience so much i wrote it down in my notes: a reminder not to be so fucking annoying!
but the conditions of alarm are met at the moment. i am well-and-truly ill, the blood in my hand and on the pavement. at this moment in dr. house episodes i would be swaying, and then i'd collapse delicately and awaken in a crisp hospital bed. instead my dog bites my hand in excitement. now there is blood on his muzzle.
i am diabolically, almost robotically calm about it. i laugh about it, actually. i am feeling positively waifish. i am one nightgown away from holding an oil lamp up and saying milord? are thee turnin' in for the night? new blood is pinkish, almost feminine in her brightness, a tease into the tissue.
i haven't ever cried at a funeral. i didn't know you were actually allowed to. it felt like new blood - a way of making it about me, when my job is to flatter the shadows and stay tucked out of the way. i am always doing something for someone else. i am always earning my keep. i am always loveable, because i will do what it takes to make you able to love me.
here are the personal things i have been worried about in the last three weeks: if the spider i put outside was now able to restart her life. if an hour and a half every day is enough walking for a greyhound. if i drink too much coffee. if all my friends secretly hate me. if i'm a bad friend and i should be sad about it. what happens after this next goalpost? what if i'm deeply and inherently boring?
i cough up blood. my mouth tastes like iron gummies. i am not worried about this. my body is a seahorse. my body is an ocean wave. i can detach from it, be outside of it - just float away.
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dunmeshistash · 10 days
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Does anyone else feel like they portrayal Kabru "cooler" in the anime than he is in the manga?
There's so many tiny differences that I feel like add up to a lack of the complex characterization he has in the manga. Small stuff like his facial expressions in certain scenes that to me reveal who he actually is behind his façade.
One of the ones that bothered me the most was this as he realizes Laios' true nature of a monster lover
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In the anime he feels analytical/ thoughtful during this part but in the manga he's clearly more thrown off/disappointed with the realization.
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And worst of all from the episode when he says bye to Laios
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This is what we see of him as he says goodbye, his side profile from not too close and his EAR
And then he says "don't forget it next time" while posing and leaving as if it's an afterthought and not the main point he was making
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This is how this interaction goes in the manga
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His expression as he thinks about asking
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His expression as he asks him to remember
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He makes sure of it before even moving onto the exit. "Don't forget it next time, okay?" It's important for him and to me all these small expressions are important to realize that, it isnt some cool exiting phrase he just says, I thought thats what it felt like in the anime 🤔
And now on today's episode
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Isn't this framed as Shuro seeing him as someone sinister? While in the manga this is framed as something lame edit: unhinged about him not something mysterious (Kabru looking at him moving away from Kabru vs Kabru moving away showing his back to shuro)
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I might be thinking way too much into this but all these little details add up to me and make me feel sad that part of the complexity I love about Kabru is being lost. I was wondering if anyone else that read the manga felt similarly.
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eloise-t-g · 1 month
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i think for me, the watcher situation comes down to this:
it's absolutely respectable that the watcher team wants to grow and produce better quality content. it's respectable that they don't want to stagnate and end up pushing the same content out over and over again. that's not satisfying for them creatively, i get that.
however, if higher quality, more heavily produced content is not what your fans are asking for, then you can't ask them to fund it.
this all-or-nothing method they've gone for is frankly bizarre. it feels like they leap-frogged all other alternatives to improving their finances and ended up here, alienating and frustrating the majority of their fanbase (the fanbase they thanked for getting them to where they are).
i think this could have gone a lot better if they:
Hadn't hyped up this video for a week.
Hadn't announced the worth it successor just beforehand.
Hadn't put out a wishy-washy, "boo hoo we're so sad about this", over-produced video.
Hadn't made it $6/month (more in a lot of countries given exchange rates).
Had considered that this means fans in specific countries literally cannot pay for the subscription due to geo/region-locking.
my ideas for improving their funds, aka things they could have tried before blowing their brand up: create their own website with two options - a free version with ads and a paid version without ads, OR make better use of their patreon/make their website extra content, not all their content, for example:
Put the ghost file debriefs on there.
Put shows like survival mode on there (or even shift that show from pre-recorded video to live-stream - live stream access to patrons and VOD access to everyone, maybe).
Put episode commentaries there.
Do reaction videos to their old buzzfeed content, talk about memories and BTS, and put that there.
Put one/two episodes of each show, per season on there (and ONLY there).
Put the episodes up there a few days early.
Make specific, website only content (that's not your main and most popular series aka ghost files and puppet history).
Record the live, in-person shows and put those VODs up there.
EDIT (thought of something else lmao): put extended or even uncut versions of ghost files on there. Paranormal Detour on Detune's twitch channel has shown that people will willingly sit through 6+ hours of a ghost investigation.
EDIT: idk, do livestreams once a week where you watch scary movies with fans on discord or twitch.
(side note: the fact that they're not taking down their patreon and instead shifting all of their podcast content on there, something the patreons who have been loyally giving them money for years didn't ask for, is ridiculous and greedy. add to this the fact that they don't even get a free sub to the new website, instead get 40% off - a measly 10% more than anyone else who subs before the official launch).
the thing for me is that they're claiming they want to make "television" and "television-grade content". that's completely fine. what's not completely fine is acting like your four episodes a month is equal to netflix's entire catalogue.
this really felt like it should have been something they told us they were progressing towards, not something they revealed to be on the imminent horizon. idk, it just feels out of nowhere. no, they don't owe us all of the info about their company. but something had to be better than this.
final thought - it's okay and valid to be upset at the team for this. for a lot of people, it's a complete betrayal (especially the comment that $6 a month is something "anyone and everyone can afford", i mean yikes). i do think some people's anger got the best of them, and some of the comments i've seen across youtube, twitter, and tumblr are plain bullying, racism, and harassment. until we have the whole story, we can't decide that one founder (aka steven in a lot of people's minds) is solely responsible. i know a lot of these awful things are only coming from a small minority of the fandom, but they still get seen.
at the end of the day, all three of them got up in front of a camera and made this video, together. that can only lead us to the conclusion that they made this decision together. acting like these men in their 30s couldn't stand up against it if they truly wanted to, is so strange and parasocial lmao.
tl;dr there were much better ways of going about this announcement, if it even needed to be made at all. however, that doesn't excuse the hateful shit being spewed at the team. for now, all we know is the three founders decided they were done with youtube, and done with their loyal youtube audience.
(i have so many more thoughts on this but i need to stop lmao. however i do wonder how different things could have been if 1. they had hired someone with actual business experience as their CEO from the jump, and 2. this video was more of a "hey we're broke! this is a last-ditch effort to save our company!". guess those questions will remain ... well ... you know ...).
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fangswbenefits · 4 months
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The Arrangement (12) - In the Beginning
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Chapter summary: Astarion meets up with Ava and it triggers something deep within him.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Mention of masturbation. Dissociative episode. Bloodlust.
Word count: 4.8k
Series Masterlist . Ao3
He should have known this would happen eventually. 
His love affair with the sun had reached an unavoidable end. Yet again. Luck had seldom ever been on his side, so this shouldn’t sting this much.
But it did.
His eyes darted to the half-moon window high up above through which scorching shafts of sunlight tore and lit up the dingy cellar.
Revulsion stirred within him and the flares of anger threatened to consume him whole.
The very same sun rays in which he had bathed for weeks were now a sore reminder of his true and inescapable nature.
He titled his head back against the wooden crate, his eyes fluttering shut in defeat as he sat on the cold floor.
Astarion had served his purpose and was now cast to live in the shadows once more, bound to his hunger and to all the inconveniences of being a vampire spawn.
The pain of being scorched by the sunlight had been revived in his mind after weeks of freely strolling around the Sword Coast in some impromptu quest to save Baldur’s Gate whilst having to deal with an inconvenient wriggling dweller inside his head.
But all the physical pain of being burnt mercilessly paled in comparison when his ears picked up approaching footsteps.
He knew who they belonged to.
The sound was carved into his mind like a dagger that wouldn’t budge.
You.
He winced as the squeaky door was pushed open. 
“Astarion?”
He gritted his teeth, silently praying you’d simply walk away and leave him to his misery. 
But his prayers had never been answered before, and that wasn’t about to change now, least of all when it concerned you.
In truth, he doubted any God above would be able to keep you from plaguing his thoughts.
“Astarion, I know you’re in here.”
Then leave.
He remained silent, eyes fluttered shut and an urge to be swallowed whole by the ground below.
Light and careful footsteps drew near and only came to a halt as a swift rush of air indicated to him that you were crouched in front of him.
Shit.
“Hello,” you said and he could hear the warm smile in your voice.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and he was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would most likely skip a few beats. Instead, he felt his stomach lurch as hunger simmered dangerously.
Your kind eyes met his and he craved nothing more than to have you be gone. 
From all the afflictions he was yet again a slave to, you were by far the most painful one.
“Did you come here to mock me?” he spat, the poisonous words leaving his mouth before he could hold back.
Your eyes widened slightly. “Mock you? Astarion–”
But he cut you off like a knife through flesh. “Spare me – I saw the way they laughed as my skin crumbled to ashes. So if you’ve come here to have your share, you can just leave.”
He was being unfair and he didn’t need your wavering smile as proof.
After all your travels together and his unrequited feelings towards you, he couldn’t fight his arrogance from surfacing.
But you never gave up on him – through deceit and manipulation, you were unmoving and relentless in your loyalty to him.
“I’ll have you know that I scolded all of them for doing so,” you said firmly. “It was uncalled for, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”
His jaw clenched harder and his eyes narrowed. 
Oh, he couldn’t stand it. That look on your face – pity. It immediately triggered a visceral reaction deep within him, and when he saw you reach out to him with your hand, he flinched away and recoiled against the crate behind him. 
“Don’t touch me.”
Your hand immediately stilled before dropping to your knee, and he saw a glint of sadness cross your eyes.
It wasn’t disgust or anger that caused him to utter such words.
He just knew your touch would ruin him and that he’d allow it.
“We can find a way to solve this,” you tried again with newfound determination. “We will find a way.”
He scoffed, averting his gaze.
Unfortunately, the laws of the worlds didn’t bend to the whims of lesser beings without compromise. 
And he soon realised what really bothered him was how vulnerable he felt – how exposed and weak he surely looked in your eyes.
Pathetic.
Useless.
Tainted.
Broken.
“Do you trust me?” 
He remained silent.
“Do you?”
Your insistence gnawed at his nerves, causing him to lock eyes with you again. 
“It goes beyond trust, darling. If walking in the sun again – or curing vampirism altogether – were that easy, I would not be here in the first place.”
Even through his snarky remark, you found a way to hold a smile and it immediately disarmed him. “Astarion, if there is anything our travels together have taught me is that we're quite good at turning the impossible into possible,” you said with conviction. “If there is a way to help you, we will find it.”
In another lifetime, he would have called you a foolish human who uttered big words without knowing their meaning.
But in this one, he did know you didn't extend promises lightly.
And if there was a sliver of hope he could cling to, he'd take it, especially now that Cazador was no longer around to compel him otherwise.
“Well, who's ‘we’, exactly?” he asked, easing himself against the crate.
Your face lightened up. “You and me, of course.”
The two of you. Just the two of you?
Oh, he liked the sound of that. Very, very much. 
His jaw slacked as hope kindled inside him, soaring dangerously high.
“Well, and Wyll – he's offered to help.”
Said hope plummeted back to the ground, shattering.
He scowled with a click of his tongue. “Did he, now? How chivalrous of him.”
You nodded. “I'm sure the others will come around, too.”
Astarion supposed this was a decent prospect, but almost grimaced when you extended your hand to him.
“Deal?”
He wanted to believe your relationship with him surpassed a mere friendship value, but he had grown tired of hoping for more.
Still, he would greedily take anything you would offer him.
Whether it was an indication that you craved more than friendship, or a simple handshake.
As such, he took your hand in his, revelling in the familiar warmth. “We have a deal, darling.”
Once he entered The Blushing Mermaid, it was evident that the presence of six Flaming Fists was not welcome at all.
Bork immediately asked for only two to stay inside as they were beginning to frighten the clientele.
But, much to his convenience, he immediately found who he was looking for, sitting in the furthermost corner of the lounge area.
Ava.
The plan was simple: try to get a confession from her – if applicable – but they would still be bringing her in for questioning as Rob Sorel, her lover, awaited her with Wyll.
A measured smile spread across her face as she noticed the fists behind him.
He slithered to her table with determined steps, aware that there was a possibility that this conversation would lead nowhere.
He slowly took the seat across from her, casually placing his twin daggers on the chipped table.
Ava's eyes dropped momentarily before meeting his again. “Oh, Astarion. Offering a silent warning with poison-coated blades? You needn't do that with me.”
Astarion's lips twitched upwards in silence.
He knew this dance better than most. He could read others quite efficiently when it came to sudden shifts in body language, and he had noticed Ava sitting straighter and her saccharine smile wavering all of a sudden.
And he had her right where he wanted her.
“You can't be too careful. Isn't that what some say?” he said, absentmindedly drumming his fingers along the handle of one dagger.
She took a sip from her cup before tilting it. “I'd order one for you, but I know this isn't your drink of choice – unless you brought her along for a sip, that is.”
Her taunt was enough to set him ablaze and the tip of his blade was immediately carved into the wooden table, earning a jolt from her.
“You do not get to goad me with her,” he snarled, gripping the handle so fiercely he might snap it in half. “She is off limits and you were delusional to even think you could bring her into this without consequences.”
Suddenly, her face twisted into a hard scowl and whatever traces of sweetness vanished. “I would not do anything with her without talking to you first.”
“You still offered her a deal, thereby roping her into something she is not to be a part of,” he retorted. “Her blood is off limits. She is off limits.”
Ava leaned back with a roll of her eyes. “Is this a case of you not wanting to share? Not even if that could be beneficial to you?”
His grip loosened slightly as his brows furrowed. “What is your point?”
She took another sip. “Her blood mixed with yours could be beneficial to my experiment and, thus, to you and even that massive horde of spawn in the Underdark.”
Of course Ava would want to play her cards right to keep him around.
It was a temptimg prospect, and he would never consider it at your expense.
He was no fool and you were no bargaining chip.
“I could never ask that of her. She stays out of this.”
She forced a yawn. “Have you forgotten your arrangement with her? Her blood for your good behaviour? Or does all sense of reason rush to your cock when you feed on her?”
Ava's words slashed through the air and he was momentarily taken aback.
The nature of your arrangement with him was vastly different. It wasn’t as simple as him being kept in line like some obedient pup. He could have turned the offer away and live exclusively off boars and deers – much to his horror.
The difference was… well, you.
Your unwillingness to let him go.
Your blood.
Your insistence on helping him keep his mind clear by allowing him to freely feed on the blood of a thinking creature.
And not just any thinking creature.
You.
His first.
The only blood he craved to the point of madness.
“Though, I can tell you haven't fed in a couple of days,” she went on with a dramatic pout. “A lover's quarrel, hmm?”
Oh, she was vicious.
This was the same woman who had shared a bed with him to ease him coming to terms with intimacy. For the most part, her simply being naked by his side hadn't helped much, but it seemed enough, and he was desperate to overcome the prison that his mind had become.
However, this was also the same woman who slayed her kin without hesitation.
She could go from being as kind and sweet to holding a stake to his chest.
Astarion felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realised he had greatly underestimated her.
Now, he needed to tread lightly.
The blade sunk deeper into the table as he leaned closer. “You wanted her blood in exchange for information.”
“Yet it is a far less selfish bargain than your arrangement with her, is it not?”
He ignored tar taunt. “Who is after me?”
“I do not know yet.”
He gritted his teeth. “Lies.”
Ava's face softened and he watched her slip into her usual overly sweet demeanour. “Astarion, we can be here all night hurling accusations and witty remarks at each other,” she said with a sigh. “Or we can approach this in a more sensitive manner.”
He didn't budge. “Who is after me?”
“I do not know who is after you,” she said. “Someone is, but I have yet to find out who.”
There was something in her tone that felt disingenuous. Almost as if she hadn't expected him to press her on this.
“Or there is no one at all besides you,” he said casually.
Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? And what would I gain from doing such a thing? Your blood is an integral part of this experiment. Locking you up in a prison cell would prove to be a nuisance.”
His patience was wearing thin.
“Darling, I've been around long enough to know people lie – you are a pristine liar, but a liar nonetheless.
In truth, he was merely bluffing in an attempt to spot any cracks in her story. He needed anything he could get from her.
And a part of him still hoped this was all a misunderstanding.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can see what you are trying to do and it won't work.”
He thought as much. Still, he had to give it a try.
“What about Waterdeep?”
For the first time that night, Ava looked genuinely dumbfounded. “What about it?”
“No casual killings over there, hmm? In the past hours – accidental ones, perhaps?” he pressed.
She frowned deeply in response. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”
“Someone was murdered and I am simply trying to rule you out as a suspect,” he said, feigning concern. 
“You overestimate my reach outside Baldur's Gate.”
He scoffed. “But not the reach of a certain patriar who so happens to be your lover.”
Ava's lips parted but she didn't utter a word.
“Rob Sorel has dealings in Waterdeep and knows which strings to pull to order a murder.”
She was visibly agitated, but he couldn't tell the cause. Was it the mention of a patriar? Or was he simply nearing the truth?
“Who was killed?”
It was all pointless.
A shame.
He merely turned in his seat and motioned for the two Fists at the door. Both immediately approached with the Mage Slayer right behind.
By this point, Astarion wasn't sure if Ava was even involved in this at all, but he couldn't take any risks. She would be taken in for questioning regardless of his judgement.
“Astarion?”
The room was immediately plunged into silence as multiple heads turned to watch the scene. From behind the counter he spotted Bork shaking his head in clear disapproval, visibly displeased with the ordeal.
“Astarion? What are you doing?”
His eyes met hers as he sheathed his daggers. “The right thing.”
He was known to do that from time to time, even against his better judgement.
She rushed to her feet, clawing at her dress in search of her own dagger. “Astarion!”
He could hear the rising panic in her voice, and he silently watched as the mage cast Hold Person on her before she could so much as blink.
She was instantly left petrified in place as the violet sign on the floor caged her in.
Gasps echoed around him and the two Fists promptly rushed to her side.
“We'll handle it from here,” one of them told him.
There was a part of him that vaguely wondered if this was the correct approach. 
A part of him that hoped for Ava not to be involved in any of it.
And then, from across the room, he saw you.
He blinked twice, thinking his eyes betrayed him, but there you were, standing by the door with a Fist at your side, staring back into his crimson eyes.
And it was as if he had been mentally slapped.
Ava had dared to involve you.
You.
And it had been his fault.
The unruly and dense crowd in the room wasn't enough to contain him from darting hurriedly to meet you.
Annoyance hit him first and it was woven into his words once he was in front of you, gripping your forearm. “Why are you here? I told you to let me handle this.”
You immediately yanked free with narrowed eyes. “I wasn't trying to interfere. But this idiot,” you said, pointing to the Fist who merely shrugged, “pushed me inside and – wait! How did it go with her?”
Astarion caught hold of your shoulders, pulling you to the side as Ava was carried away through the door.
As soon as it closed behind them, the fanfare commenced once more in between heated whispers and glares from those around the two of you.
“Marvellous as you can see,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She didn't confess to anything, and I had limited time.”
You pushed the door open once again and he promptly followed you outside, until he felt a hard shove from someone's hand.
“Move, spawn.”
He glanced over his shoulder only to see a frowning Fist right behind.
“We are not cattle to be ordered around,” he spat, adjusting his vest. “Honestly, Wyll ought to have you all stand trial for severe lack of manners.”
“It's Duke Ravengard to you,” the Fist growled, hand on the hilt of his sword.
Astarion clicked his tongue humorously. “It's Wyll to me and Duke Ravengard to you, Fist.”
Before tensions could escalate any further, you were already tugging at his sleeve, and dragging him across the wooden pier.
Just as the Fist opened his mouth, a myriad of clashing and banging sounds were heard from inside and he turned to open the door.
Probably a tavern brawl.
What fun!
Seconds later, the armoured man was toppled to the ground as the door burst open with people yelling profanities and slinging fists at each other.
“I'll kill ya! WHERE IS MY CHICKEN, YOU OAF?” a drunkard missing most of his teeth yelled, holding a frying pan in his hand.
“YOU ATE IT, YOU IMBECILE!” said another, stepping on the fallen Fist and nearly losing his balance.
Behind them, Astarion spotted several items being tossed whilst Bork's voice begged for order.
He almost clicked his tongue.
Tavern brawls were too much fun and he always adored adding fuel to the fire by standing on the side and instigating these drunkard fools.
But a quick glance at you and he could tell you wouldn't approve of such activity, so he remained at your side.
The other two Fists that were standing guard nearby, clumsily rushed to the entrance.
“Go call for backup!”
The youngest nodded and nearly bumped into Astarion as he tried to keep his helmet steady.
“Oh! Do not leave! Do not move!”
Astarion immediately raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn't dream of it.”
“Right. Thank you!”
Idiot.
Surprisingly, you hadn't let go of his sleeve and your hand moved to his wrist, pulling him to cross the road until you reached the metal balustrade that allowed a privileged view over the Grey Harbour Docks.
It was far away from the chaos that had erupted, but not quite far that would potentially get you into trouble.
Although… “Maybe we should leave.”
Astarion arched an eyebrow at you. “And going against the voice of authority?”
Your face dropped and he fought the urge to pinch your cheek teasingly.
You were so easy to rile up.
“You scheming little delinquent, you,” he said with a devious smile and a chuckle. “I'm all for acts of rebellion, but we ought to stay nearby this time.”
“Do you think we should go help them out?” you asked, glancing over at the rising commotion nearby.
The two of you exchanged looks before shrugging.
“No. They can fend for themselves,” you said, leaning over the fence, eyes set on the lulling sea that spread vastly into the distance.
“Actually, they're quite incompetent, but I don't feel like creasing my shirt,” he said with an annoyed click of his tongue, inspecting his sleeves as he joined you. “Let them fight off the drunkards. We get to collect the scattered coins on the floor afterwards.”
You shot him a curious look. “You do that?”
“Well, obviously? I put the gold to good use, at least.”
“Embroidery?”
That tugged a genuine smile from him and he caught himself staring at you under the moonlight.
Gods.
He would never tire of admiring your beauty and how it was almost embarrassingly too easy for him to get lost in your eyes.
It also didn't help that he hadn't fed in a few days.
Bloodlust clouded his mind and made his insides turn.
It was the soft sound of your voice that snapped him from his thoughts. “What now? I mean… Ava.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, they are to interrogate Rob Sorel and see how both their stories hold up.”
You heaved a deep sigh. “So we wait.”
“We wait.”
Astarion had grown used to the silence that would often settle around the two of you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that he had never experienced before.
He wasn't sure there was a name for it, but he knew the feeling attached to it all too well.
The silhouette of passing ships on the horizon, dancing along the calm waters added to the overall soothing atmosphere.
He could stay a while longer like this.
With you.
His eyes eventually darted to the side and he nearly jolted when your head turned to him, as if you had felt his burning gaze.
“You can feed on me once we get home.”
He wanted that.
He needed it.
He craved it.
But… “I can do without your blood for a while longer, darling.”
A white lie.
He could feel his mind spotting and blanking at times already, especially when near you. Maybe he had gotten too addicted to feeding on you to the point his body could no longer go extended periods of time without blood.
Your blood.
And as much as he appreciated your offer, he needed to withstand his hunger.
Ava's words echoed in his mind and he almost felt repulsed from having allowed himself to be so dependent on you and putting you through it in the first place.
“Are you alright?” you asked, visibly worried.
“Yes – of course, darling,” he forced a smile to curl his lips.
Your hand came to rest on his forearm. “Astarion, you can feed on me. I mean it.”
His eyes dropped to your neck, the symmetrical puncture wounds still visible from when he had last bitten you.
Hunger swelled to the point of agony and he could almost smell your blood and feel it coursing through your hand.
You gave him a reassuring nod, which only made it harder for him to resist the urge to give in.
“I should go hunt, actually,” he eventually managed to say and his words felt like ash in his mouth.
You chuckled slightly, squeezing his arm. “You'd probably have to bring a Fist with you.”
He grimaced, but appreciated your attempt at diffusing the tension. “They would end up being the ones hunted by some beast in the woods, and I would have to step in and save the godsdamned idiot.”
Your eyes widened and then you laughed.
Hard.
And it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard in a long while.
It was enough to steer the bloodlust away and he laughed with you.
“It reminds me of the first time you fed on me,” you said, wiping off the teardrops that had formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing. “Remember? When you drifted off into the woods to hunt for something more ‘filing’?”
Oh.
Shit.
His smile wavered and you immediately caught on to the sudden shift.
“What?”
He thought he had told you what truly happened that night….
…. he hadn't?
“Well… I…” his words failed him and as he pondered how he should approach the topic.
Concern suddenly splattered across your face. “What is it? 
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I didn't exactly go hunting,” he said with a tense chuckle.
You remained silent, waiting for him to go on.
“I just had to get away from you… to… uhm, well – take care of a little problem that stirred whilst I fed on you, if you catch my meaning.”
He allowed the implication to dangle from his words, and it wasn't a particularly subtle one.
And then your eyes widened once more in sudden realisation.
“Oh… it makes sense,” you said all flustered, withdrawing your hand from his arm. “You did say my blood feels really good.”
‘Good’ was an unfair understatement.
It always felt divine.
“Don't misunderstand,” he quickly added. “It was totally out of my control. I was quite surprised when I realised just how…” hard he had gotten.
“Just how…?”
“Just how much your blood affected me.”
He could remember it clearly in his head.
How desperate he was to slip into the woods and find a secluded place so he could see just how much of a mess his trousers were.
He could feel it, obviously, but he wouldn't know the extent of the ‘'damage’ until he undid his trousers.
“Did you… get…. really hard?” you drawled out in a hushed tone as if scared someone other than him might overhear you.
Astarion figured this was the last topic he expected to be addressing given that the background noise consisted of screams and threats and loud noises and glass smashing.
Hardly the right ambience.
“Yes.”
He could almost remember the feel of the bark of the tree digging into his back as he hurriedly undid the lacing at the front until he was able to free his cock.
“And what did you do?”
Were these merely questions that stemmed from curiosity or were you trying to stir something else…?
“Well…” he started, “you can't expect me to reveal such things aloud.”
He watched you swallow hard as you nodded. “You can say in my ear, then? If you want to, of course,” you quickly added.
You were too adorable and he was in dire need of a distraction from his bloodlust.
This would suffice.
He leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek before his lips grazed the shell of your ear.
“I had to take care of it.”
You shuddered.
His cock had never been as hard and as thick before he had fed on you. It had made him utterly speechless to see all the precum dripping from the tip.
He had been almost too scared to even touch it.
But when he did….
The groan that had erupted from his throat had been too difficult to rein in. His cock had felt warm and it had throbbed from your blood coursing through it, giving it a faint pink tint to it.
“In the woods?” you asked, gripping the railing with both hands.
“Yes.”
He could hear the faint beating of your heart increasing. “What if someone had run into you?”
His cock twitched.
Innocent, little pup…
“Why, darling… did you want to run into me,” he lowered his voice as his lips brushed against your ear, "and witness my despair as I touched myself?”
You gasped.
Despair didn't quite cover it. 
He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt like he'd implode lest he reached climax.
It was a novelty and he had felt… alive. 
He had heard of how delectable the blood of thinking creatures could be, but he had never anticipated this feeling of fullness and how addictive it could be.
“It was so warm… from your blood, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling himself getting carried away.
You bit your quivering lip before replying, “Did it feel good?”
Maybe too carried away.
And when you shuddered again under his faint touch, it was as if he had been slapped back into another plane of existence.
He suddenly straightened himself and blinked.
What was he doing?
His abrupt change in demeanour was enough to earn a reaction from you, and he could see lust in your half-hooded eyes as you stared at him in confusion.
And just like a tidal wave that one couldn't hold back, he felt disgust and revulsion lacing themselves into a powerful mixture that caused him to take a step back.
His mind was flooded with Ava's accusatory words and the memories of him seducing you for his own benefit.
“Astarion?”
Your voice was miles away and he couldn't even bring himself to blink anymore.
The nauseating feeling was heightened by the fact that he had a very inconvenient erection strained against his trousers, begging for attention.
“Astarion… what is it?” 
Your voice seemed even more distant than before, as if he had been plunged into a well and couldn't get out.
Why couldn't he get out?
Why was his cock so hard, but his mind so repulsed by it?
And the impending feeling of dread began to slowly overtake him like storm clouds rolling over the mountains, bent on flooding the land below.
And when it began to rain in his mind, it poured.
He needed to get away.
He needed to get away from you.
You tried reaching out to him with your hand, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!”
And he could see it in your eyes.
Pity.
Again.
“I – I must go.”
And he didn't look back.
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TBC
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weirdplutoprince · 4 months
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Trauma in Solo leveling
Always haunted by what could have been of Solo Leveling if the narrative acknowledged the inherent trauma vision that guides most of Jin-Woo's actions through the series instead of glorifying him for that.
Like, it is pretty clear to me from the start that a lot of his obsession with self reliance and his increasingly cynical views of the world ("The weak are destined to be betrayed") are a direct response to the double dungeon incident, and in more ways than we initially realize.
I think it's particularly obvious in the way he is paralled with Lee Joohee; while they're both shown to be traumatized from their encounter, Joohee is supposedly 'worse off' than him. She has noticeable flashbacks to that episode and withdraws from life and work in an attempt to avoid possible triggers - becoming paralysed when she fails to do so. And because, while also afraid, Jin-Woo is instead making a point to return to dungeons we are very clearly meant to think that he is moving on when she is not. ...Except that he isn't.
Because, you see, along with withdrawing, the reenactment of a traumatic event is also a very common response to trauma. And so is the risky behaviour that might come with it. And what does Jin-Woo does as soon as he's able to leave the hospital again? Immediately throw himself into dungeons, alone, with a clear disregard for personal safety and an extreme need to both prove himself and give meaning to his near death experience before.
Not only does he goes right back into the very same place his trauma took place, but he seems to subconsciously be trying to recreate said event in a way that gives him control of the situation. This time, he wasn't abandoned to die alone in a dungeon: he did it himself, willingly. He placed himself in that position. And later on, when he risks himself with shady parties he expects to betray him, he seems almost content; once again putting himself in risk by creating a scenario where he is 'abandoned' and 'betrayed' but where he can come off on top. He is desperate to both have his belief confirmed that someone perceived as a weak hunter like he is will always be betrayed, always be left behind, and to fight that supposed fate. To prove that he has 'fixed' this aspect of himself and will thus not fall victim to that consequences of that abandoment again. In fact, he is so detatched from the current scene that he deliberately ignores the fact Yoo Jinho challenges those believes by protecting Jin-Woo, whom he believes to be an E rank at that point.
And were this any other story, all his development from then on would prove the faults of this mindset. The dangers of self reliance, of cutting yourself off from any support network, from depriving himself of any sort of meaningful trust or vulnerability with others. But instead, we're meant to respect the fact he is increasingly isolated from everyone else. That he becomes cold, emotionally withdrawn and paranoid (his refusal to join any of the existing guilds always felt to me like his need for control taken to extreme, plus the fact he could not deal with how exposed he felt working with others again). And I think that's really sad.
It would have been really interesting to have a story that is willing to challenge the notion that he is better off alone, and that trust in others is ultimately unecessary. And that would acknowledged the strength necessary to allow himself to trust and be vulnerable after everything - and the importance of surrounding himself with people he loves and knows will protect him too. Sad 😔
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