#It's just. I don't really have a good opinion of myself. I don't see how someone could possibly like spending time with me

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Me, when Sebastian joins my party for the first time: Okay, this time I'm not going to forget about you, Sebastian. I'm going to make an effort to use you a lot this playthrough so I can better understand you.

Also me, immediately forgetting about Sebastian while finishing Act 2 and making it halfway through Act 3 before I finally notice his Faith quest: ......................Oh. Right. My bad.

[magentagalaxies]

having a moment about my gender rn and i'm just like ugggggh @ my brain do we have to. like can we just not

[medicinemane]

.

[welcometogrouchland]

I think the disconnect between canon Belos and (a certain genre of) fanon Belos is that in canon he is pathetic (in the dramatic sense) not sympathetic.

[sisterdivinium]

It's interesting to stroll around Fanlore reading discussions that took place in 2007 talking about the fractured nature of fandom on LJ and people interacting without having enough context (as in commenting on a post they did not read by a user they do not know) when you're living in 2023 and people distribute likes without reading anything or commenting; when there's supposedly "drama" of unknown origins happening in more than one website at the same time because there's no real "home base" for fandom activity anymore; and we're all carrying on with our lives reblogging things without even looking at previous notes and reactions to that same post even if out of simple curiosity...

[insightstaff]

Absolutely fucked up that allowing myself to be seen and to be loved, even if I can't love myself right now, is actually a good choice

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

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:

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 :)

[emeryleewho]

I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.

So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."

I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?

It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.

Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.

So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.

Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.

[x-brik-x]

I'm seeing a lot of people say that punk fashion is expensive and inaccessible, which is very wrong. here is a list of some ways you can make punk fashion easier, cheaper and more accessible for you, since that's... kinda the whole point.

others are encouraged to add onto this!! (just don't recommend corporations like amazon. not cool.)

1. patches!! you don't need to buy them. DIY patches are not ugly or boring. in fact, they are encouraged here!! DIY, in my opinion, is always the best thing to do when it is an option and is safe to do so.

2. speaking of DIY, spikes!! you can make them!!

cut the top and bottom off of an empty can. cut down the middle of the cylinder and flatten it, so it's just a flat rectangle of metal.

cut out a shape that is kind of a third of a circle, but around 3/4 of the curved edge is taken up by triangle shapes. (I'm not very good at describing, so here's a badly drawn picture)

roll it into a cone, leaving the 4 triangles sticking out at the bottom. this bit is optional, but you can fill it with hot glue to make it more sturdy, just be careful touching the hot metal. I tend to hold the cone by one of the triangles with a bit of fabric wrapped around my fingers for this bit. cut 4 small holes in your fabric in this kind of shape:

and put the spiky bits of triangle through the holes. fold the triangles in on themselves to secure the spike in place. boom. spike obtained. this is one I made and attached to a little piece of fabric to test this method out:

3. battle vests!! (like the base jackets). the best places to buy these are charity shops and second hand websites in my opinion, but if anyone else knows any better options, please reblog with those!!

a good trick I find works well on eBay is to filter search results to your country (or state? can you do that in the US? idk) so that a: fast delivery because local, and b: all the sellers of everything that shows up are in YOUR TIME ZONE.

why is this important? when people sell something for really cheap, it goes FAST. check eBay at like, 2am or something. all the scalpers in your area are asleep. grab the cheap stuff while they can't.

4. sewing!! want patches, but can't sew for whatever reason? I've heard of a lot of people with joint conditions like arthritis complain about the inaccessibility of patch stuff, and that does sound extremely annoying, however:

safety pins!! while they are still a little fiddly, they're much less work so you don't have to fiddle about for long. if you can, you could even ask a friend to help, since it doesn't take long at all I'm sure someone will be willing to help out!! (I know I would, but that's just me, and I love this kind of thing). safety pins on clothes are also widely considered to be a symbol of solidarity, so if anything, you're adding some extra love and meaning to your patch pants/battle jacket.

if that's still too fiddly, fabric glue is always an option. unfortunately this means you won't be able to remove/reposition patches, at least without leaving a massive patch of residue, but if you're ok with that then fabric glue is probably your best bet.

for people who prefer sewing: as for where to get the thread, I've heard a lot of people recommending dental floss, as it's apparently much cheaper and works just as well. I haven't tried this myself so can't confirm that, but I thought I'd share it regardless.

5. where to get fabric!! old clothes. rip em up. you don't need any kind of fancy fabric from the craft store. my patches are made of old jeans that I grew out of.

don't have any old clothes and you don't want to waste any good ones? I'm not sure about other countries, but in the UK, as long as you're not on private property (trespassing), dumpster diving is perfectly legal.

I definitely ;) do NOT encourage ;) trespassing rich people's land ;) to steal from their dumpsters ;)

or tbh it doesn't matter too much how rich the person is, since it's all going to landfill anyway. if it's in the bin, it's free game, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)

please add onto this where you can!! and if I missed something or got anything wrong, add that on too!!

[ddejavvu]

for a Tyler request what about him and reader getting into a really bad argument and storming off and when he cools down he can’t find her and is panicking

Alive and Crazy - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Perhaps it was cruel of you to pick such a secluded hiding spot, but after all, isn't that what hiding's all about? Perhaps then the cruel part was hiding at all. But you can't shake Tyler's vicious words, "Y'know, if you don't stop trying to hold me back, maybe I should just cut myself loose."

All this over a tornado? His lifestyle is... intense. You are of the opinion that Tyler's hobby is ridiculously dangerous, and while you're slightly comforted by the safety precautions he takes (especially the drills that anchor his truck into the ground), you're less than impressed with the way he shows off and makes those precautions almost useless. Really, does he need to lean out of the window to see how long he can handle it? You'd only been trying to find some middle ground, but Tyler apparently seems to think you're trying to chain him up in the basement to prevent him from ever having any fun.

There's a secluded cabinet in the back of your laundry room that's perfect for hiding - just big enough to fit in and with an outlet for easy phone charging. You're just about to hit your two hour mark huddled in the cabinet when you hear thundering footsteps nearing your location.

"Baby? Hey, baby, y'gotta tell me where you are. Come on, baby, just wanna know you're safe. You in here?"

That's the last thing you hear before daylight spills into your dark cabinet, and your phone's screen becomes instantly duller in comparison. You glare up unimpressed at Tyler but his face crumples in relief so fast that you can barely hold the expression.

"Shit darlin'." He heaves a sigh, and any sympathy you'd felt for him instantly disappears when he has the gall to scold you next, "Do you know how damn long I've been looking for you?"

"Oh I'm sorry," You bite up at him, rage reigniting in your eyes, "Does my need for space inconvenience you?"

"No!" He nearly shrieks, but he reins himself in, "No, no, that's not- I shouldn't have said it like that. I was just worried."

"Well I'm not sure why," You turn back to your phone, but there's no concentration present as you mindlessly scroll, "I'd have expected you to be out enjoying your freedom seeing as you're cutting yourself loose."

"I'm not cutting myself loose." He vows, and it's soft instead of his typical drawl. He crouches, then makes the terrible, horrible decision to attempt to fit into the crawlspace with you.

"No- no, Tyler, you can't fit!" You squeal as he shoulders his way in, pressed flush to his body as he settles in a space half his size.

"It's fine." He grunts, but it's labored and very much not fine, "I just wanna be near you."

"I don't wanna be near you." You sneer, but you make no move to get up, "The whole reason I'm squeezed into this cabinet is because I was trying to hide from you."

"Did a damn good job, too." He admits, head slumped against the wall instead of your shoulder, "I was runnin' around for almost half an hour."

"Serves you right." You grumble, "Don't say mean shit if you want people to like you."

"I know." He reaches out and sets a hand on your knee, chaste and reassuring, "I'm sorry, darlin'. I just- lost control, or something. I don't know. I've been doin' this my whole life, and when you try to tell me how to do it, it makes me feel like you don't think I can handle it myself."

"Tyler, no one can. Some of the things that you're doing-" You stop yourself short, "I'm not saying you can't have fun. I'm not saying you can't chase- er, wrangle tornadoes. I'm just saying you don't have to keep trying to outdo yourself. There has to be a limit, otherwise you'll get killed."

He's silent after your speech, perhaps mulling it over, perhaps drafting his counterargument. In the end, he tips his head from the wall to your shoulder, and murmurs close to your ear.

"Yeah. You're right. I think... I think I just don't know when to stop sometimes."

"I agree with that," You try to keep too much accusation from seeping into your tone, "But that's why I said something. I don't want you to stop, I just don't want it to stop you."

"Yeah. Alright. I understand." And he sounds like he does. He laces his fingers with yours like he does, and he cranes his neck to peck his lips against your cheek like he does.

"You're not holding me back," He promises, "What I said earlier... that was dumb. This is a partnership, not some sort of prison sentence. I love you, darlin'."

"I love you too," You sigh, leaning sideways into his embrace, "You promise no more hanging out of windows?"

"I promise I won't anymore. Can't promise nothin' for Boone."

"Boone's crazy," You laugh, "You're all crazy. I just want you alive and crazy."

"Deal." Tyler grins, holding out a pinky and letting you lock it with yours, "Alive and crazy, darlin'."

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[medicinemane]

Never think that I've stopped talking about Ukraine or that I've forgotten

I follow things every day, every day hoping for some kind of miracle that means the fighting is over, russia will leave every inch of Ukrainian soil, no more bombings... but... I know it's probably some time off... I'm not stupid, I just hope people can stop dying

I follow it every day, hear all the horrible news, keep up to date with things like the Kursk counteroffensive where Ukraine has taken a great deal of russian territory (which shows russia has no red lines)

I just don't share most of what I see on here because I don't want people to get fatigued... there's so many horrible things going on in the world, I don't want to burn people out

I'd rather someone be active and able to do a little than having to just turn off and disengage with everything to avoid losing it

All I ask is that you support Ukraine, they're just trying to exist. Just trying to live normal lives. I just hope you can support the "no civilians deserve to be bombed" platform, and say they don't deserve to be bombed by russia

If you've ever got any questions, it's not like I'm an expert, it's not like I'm living it, but I do follow things every day and it often seems like I know stuff other westerners haven't hear about... so ask away

Anyway, just never think that just cause it's been a bit since I mentioned Ukraine that they're not still on my mind

You hear less for your sake, but I keep coming back every day, and even I don't remotely see the true scale and horror of it, only snippets of... photos, videos, stories people share online

[cryptidghostgirl]

I have another chubby reader for you! I was only gonna ask for one but YOURE SO AMAZING I JUST HAD TO PUT IN ANOTHER REQUEST😞😩 Alastor x chubby!reader, where reader goes out with angel Dust to a party or something wearing a *cough* slutty *cough* outfit and Alastor SEES THEM WEARING IT 👀 and he gets possessive of reader and won't let them leave with angel (whose smirking in the background and fluttering his eyelashes like he's innocent because reader and Alastor are bother emotionally constipated or something and haven't confessed to each other😤) and reader is nervous enough wearing something so revealing already (but they felt good enough in their own skin to wear such an outfit; that confidence is quickly fading when Alastor stops her from leaving with the outfit) so she gets the wrong idea that Alastor thinks she disgusting or body shaming her 🥺 but Alastors just ranting about being ladylike and "dressing like a proper lady" , Angel Dust is now watching this heartbreaking train wreck happen and tries to intervene but then Alastor turns on him about tainting the reader or something but reader has heard enough and just quietly just turns around and walks to her room heartbroken 😭 then angel yells at Alastor and tells him everything *shocked Pikachu face* and goes to reader to fix this misunderstanding, you take it from here????? BUT THEY DO CONFESS

(I LOVE ME SOME HURT/COMFORT AND LOVE CONFESSIONS! YUMM!)

A/N I love your requests and I'm so glad you liked how Sweet turned out. I am actually really proud of that one myself. Of course I will write this. 11/10.

Pretty Bunny (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Body image and weight stuff. I feel like Alastor is a bit ooc but I think this is cute so I don't super care.

Word Count: 2,049

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

“And where exactly is it you two are off to in such a hurry?”

Y/n and Angel froze, Angel's hand resting on the handle to the hotel's door.

"Well?"

Exchanging a covert look, Y/n and Angel turned to face Alastor. Y/n clasped her hands innocently behind her back, looking up at Alastor through her lashes which Angel had done up in silver falsies, and Angel fixed a smile on his face.

"Just out." Y/n hummed.

"Yeah," Angel chimed in, draping one of his lower arms over Y/n's shoulders and bringing her into his side, "little Y/n here deserves a night out on the town and some fun."

Y/n quickly elbowed Angel in the side. The spider demon knew Alastor and his opinions on the night life of Pentagram City. He was tempting fate. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"You deserve 'some fun,' do you?" Alastor asked, fixing his gaze on the shorter of the pair of demons.

Angel released his grip on Y/n, shoving her forward slightly. She stumbled a bit, shooting him a glare before looking carefully back at Alastor. His scrutinizing gaze traversed her form with care. Angel had insisted on dressing her up and while the outfit he had put her in was a bit out of her comfort zone, Y/n felt incredibly pretty. The little white satin dress hung from her hips, playing gently against her thighs when she walked, and the black knee high platforms made her at least a couple inches taller. Angel had even placed black satin bows around the bases of her rabbit ears to tie the whole thing together.

There were also the chains, thin and dripping off her body. A necklace here, a carefully placed waist chain there, she looked practically angelic. Alastor crossed his arms, tapping his foot menacingly as he impatiently waited for an explanation.

"Well, we've been working so hard to become better people and it's been three months since we've done anything... fun. Besides, it was my birthday last week."

"Uh-huh." Alastor nodded, his lack of amusement with the situation obvious, "And where exactly are you two planning on going?"

"Oh come on, Smiles. It's just a club I know." Angel sighed, "You're starting to sound like Charlie. I thought you wanted to see us fail."

"That is true." was the only response the Radio Demon gave Angel before fixing his attention on Y/n once again.

She was beginning to grow uncomfortable under his piercing stare. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"So what is the issue, Alastor."

The name felt foreign on her tongue. Although she had been a guest of the Hazbin Hotel practically since its creation, she avoided Alastor. At first, it had of course been due to intimidation. Then, as he had slowly begun to reveal his true colors to the residents of the hotel, it had morphed into something entirely other. Y/n thought that the Radio Demon, one of the most feared overlords in all of Hell, was pretty.

Y/n had never been good at dealing with crushes or flirting or anything. She avoided him like the plague. Her tail twitched thoughtlessly with trepidation, shifting her skirt just the slightest bit, revealing just the smallest big more of her thighs.. It was the last straw for Alastor.

"You're not going out in that."

Angel pressed his palm to his forehead, shaking his head. Love was his specialty, the act and the feeling. It was obvious to him Y/n had a thing for the Radio Demon, and not just because she had revealed the information to him in one of their late night talks. He never brought it up with the rabbit demon who had become a dear friend in the time they had known one another, but he was relatively certain Alastor had some interest in her as well. The Radio Demon seemed to constantly be a few steps behind her, entering rooms she had just left, letting his eyes linger on her when they did their group exercises.

At Alastor's words, Y/n's mouth fell slightly open. Her breath caught in her throat, a shiver running through her.

"Oh."

Her voice was strained and Angel could tell she was holding back tears. Y/n turned away from Alastor, her shoulders slouching even further.

"That is no way for a proper lady to dress." Alastor continued, not seeming to notice the effect his words had had as he lectured the smaller demon, "I mean, you're barley wearing anything at all! For goodness sake, your shoes are covering more than that dress an-"

"Alright," Angel cut in, stepping up beside Y/n and pulling her into his arms, "that's enough big guy."

"You're clearly tainting her with your promiscuity." Alastor sighed, "What, you want to bring her to some club so ignorant wimps can drool over her all night? Or maybe that's what she wants to have happen."

Y/n pulled herself from Angel's grip and marched right up to Alastor. Her eyes wet with unshed tears, he looked down at the finger she was jabbing into his chest in mild shock.

"You are mean." she stated, "I can't believe how wrong I was about you. I thought... god!"

She let her finger fall and crossed her arms over her stomach once again.

"You ready to go, sweet cheeks?" Angel asked and she shook her head.

All the fight had gone out of her.

"No, you go ahead without me. I think... I think I'm just gonna go to bed. Thanks for... yeah."

With those parting words, Y/n stormed upstairs. Angel and Alastor watched until she had long since disappeared into the depths of the hotel. Slowly, they turned to face each other once again.

"What." Alastor said in the most deadpan tone Angel had ever heard come from the demon.

"How could you do that?" Angel asked accusatorially, taking a step towards Alastor, "She is the sweetest little menace on the planet!"

"Do what?"

Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong, done anything wrong. Y/n was the one who had over reacted, stepped out of line, right?

"Do you have any idea how long it has taken her to be confident enough to wear something like that? She has worked so hard on her relationship with herself and... and... she felt pretty. Why would you say that shit to her?"

"I... what?"

"She liked you, ya dumbass! She cared about what you thought of her!"

Alastor took the slightest step back, his hand not grasping his microphone raised to his chest, hovering over his heart.

"I am afraid I don't understand you."

Angel sighed, trying to calm himself.

"Look. Y/n has a crush on you and you just told her she wasn't pretty."

"No I didn't. I told her she should be more ladylike. A crush on me?"

"Yeah well, that's not much better. She is who she is and she is wonderful! The way that she dresses doesn't change any of that."

"She has a crush on me?" Alastor asked again, dumbstruck.

"Yes you idiot."

"But she never speaks to me. I thou-"

"That's cause she's nervous. Geeze, you are dense."

Y/n jumped in shock as she caught sight of Alastor using his shadows to teleport into her room through the reflection of the mirror. Her makeup half off, she turned to him.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

Alastor opened his mouth, about to make a comment about her language before thinking better of it and closing it again. Y/n rolled her eyes, her anger and hurt having festered into irritation. She turned back to the mirror, using the cotton pad in her hand to take off the last of her mascara. Alastor watched her face through the mirror as she tossed the cotton pad to the side.

Reaching up, she slowly began to disassemble the sculpture of a hairdo Angel had put her in.

"Why are you here?" she asked again, placing a bobby pin on the table.

"I came to... apologize." he replied, taking a small step forward.

"What, did Angel force ya' to?"

It wasn't often her accent slipped out. Y/n had been raised in Brooklyn but her parents had been insistent she work not to have the accent. People didn't take people who had them seriously, they said. It only ever made an appearance when she was drunk or feeling any emotion to it's extremity, especially anger.

"No, I am here of my own volition."

"Yeah, sure." she scoffed as she pulled the last of the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall freely around her face as she turned back to him over her shoulder, "I totally believe that."

"It was not my intent to make you feel like you weren't... pretty." Alastor carefully said, avoiding her eyes, "Just tha-

"If an apology involves an exception, is it really an apology?"

Alastor had never been good at this. Apologies or any of the other feelings he had been actively suppressing about the rabbit demon since he had come to the hotel. She stood up from her chair, walking over to him.

Y/n knew the clock was ticking, felt the heat of the tears building in her head again.

"What." she asked, throwing her arms out to the sides and looking around the room, "Ya' think I'm ugly? Unladylike? Is that because I let Angel dress me up or because I'm not stick thin?"

"Y/n."

There were tears dripping down her cheeks now. She looked away, crossing her arms tightly across her stomach in protection.

"Just leave, Alastor."

"Y/-"

"Leave!" she commanded, "Get outa here!"

"Y/-"

"I don' wanna talk to you! What don't ya' get about that!"

"Y/n!" Alastor grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him.

"What!" she yelled back, tears streaming hotly down her face, "What, Alastor."

"I... I think you're beautiful."

The tears stopped, Y/n's eyes wide. Fueled by a sudden wild courage Alastor continued, grabbing her hands in his own.

"I do. You... I don't have the words. You..." he shook his head, "I really don't. You are a wonder."

Her nose twitched subtly, her ears adjusting themselves atop her head.

"But then why... why did you say those things to me?"

"I was jealous." he anxiously admitted, "I never meant to make you cry."

"Jealous?" Y/n repeated with a slight laugh and Alastor nodded.

His cheeks were hot and his heart pounding in his chest but he refused to look away from Y/n. Releasing one of her hands, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief. Gently, he raised it to Y/n's face, patting away her tears.

"You were jealous."

He wasn't going to be able to escape this one.

"That some other guy was gonna see you like that? Was going to charm you and hold you in their arms while I did nothing? Of course I was."

"I have a confession to make." Y/n said after a moment.

"And what might that be?" Alastor asked as he took another step closer to Y/n, still holding one of her hands in his.

He tried his best to repress a smile, her bashfulness was so endearing.

"I maybe, kind of sort of... think you're beautiful too?"

She looked up at him through her lashes. He let go of her hands, grabbing her by the waste and pulling her body into his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." she nodded shyly.

"You know, I might have heard something along those lines from Angel just a bit earlier."

"From... that little bitch! I mean snitch! I mean both actually I guess."

Alastor laughed at her antics.

"So, pretty bunny, what are we to do with this revelation?"

Y/n's ears cocked. Alastor could feel her tail twitch, brushing up against his arm where he held her. A shiver traveled down his spine.

"Oh I don't know." Y/n feigned indecision, her hands finding her way around his waist as well, bringing them even closer together, "Maybe you should ask me on a date? If you're interested."

"Interested?" Alastor laughed, leaning down, "Of course I am."

[darby-rowe]

୨⎯ "inches of snow" ⎯୧

young!coriolanus snow ☓ fem!reader summary your boyfriend, coriolanus snow, joins you and your family for christmas dinner, but of course it's nothing short of an insufferable experience. but don't worry, because coryo is there to take care of you!

18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2,298 cw modern au, coryo & reader are in grad school, it's christmas!!, mentions of food, implied body shaming by family, uh oh grandma and grandpa are being bigoted again, bathroom sex, mirror sex, anal, praise, degradation, sex on the bathroom sink, it's a very anal christmas, coryo has a big dick, ooc(?) coryo, y/n usage, petnames, unprotected sex, spit play, cum play, dirty talk notes i know the title is corny as fuck LMFAO but it made me giggle. also imagine reader in ellen griswold's outift from national lampoon's christmas vacation like the one w the blouse and the green skirt bc mmmmm that fit is FIRE. this fic was slightly based off of this post bc i thought it was just too hot to ignore. this is also NOT proofread so any mistakes you find in this fic... dont talk about it

Sitting down at the pleasantly decorated dining room table, your mother insisted on saying grace before you and the rest of your family could dig in on the splendid feast you and the rest of the women in your family worked so hard on. Your mouth watered at the thought of savoring the sweet potato casserole, the baked macaroni and cheese, the ham, everything at the table was extremely decadent. And it was all displayed out in front of you, and right under your nose.

You were a bit greedy, you had to admit, as your hands were the first to get a generous scoop of the fluffy mashed potatoes, earning a scoff from your ever-so lovely paternal grandmother. Say something, you old bat, you thought to yourself, but a pleasant hand came running to rescue you from your angry thoughts. A slight squeeze on your left thigh made you blush, and you turned your head to grin at your lovely boyfriend, Coriolanus Snow. He gave you a reassuring nod, and you went back to indulging in your Christmas feast.

“So, Y/N,” your grandmother piped up, pretentiously swishing her glass of wine. “Anything interesting as of late?”

You swallowed your forkful of mashed potatoes and peas. “My third year of med school is kicking my butt,” you said, trying to lighten the hostility between you and your grandmother. “I’m definitely finding myself to have less and less free time–”

“And how do you feel about that?” your grandmother interjected right in the middle of your response, causing your brows to furrow. Her attention was now fully on Coriolanus, which you turned your head to see what his response would be.

Coriolanus huffed amusingly. “I don’t necessarily have an opinion on it,” he said. “I am also quite busy with my master’s degree. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or however that saying goes,”

“We’re just busy little bees,” you said in a light manner, albeit a bit awkwardly. “It’ll all be worth it in the end. All this hard work will pay off,”

Your grandfather motioned his glass towards Coriolanus. “Busy little bees, eh? Bet it’s harder on you than her,” This statement made you nearly choke on your champagne. The crudeness of that man! Oh, if you didn’t know any better, you would reach across the table and slap the wrinkles off that smug face–

“It’s actually not really that hard to endure,” Coriolanus spoke up. “We both know we’ll see each other again after our busy spells and that thought keeps us going,”

You smiled bitterly at your grandfather. “Exactly,”

The table got quiet after that, and you spent a good few minutes awkwardly sipping your champagne and eating your generous plate. You felt your appetite unfortunately begin to dissipate as the unpleasantness of the evening began sinking underneath your skin.

“You know, mother,” your father chimed in. “My wife and I both met during our residency, and you know firsthand exactly how busy I was during that time. The 100 hour work weeks, the skills labs, the exams, my boards. It was hard! But my beloved and I made it through, and I’m sure Y/N and Coryo will also make it,”

“I just don’t see the need in investing this much time in such a demanding career when your husband is already planning on pursuing a career that would help the both of you,” grandmother said to you, making your face contort into one of immense displeasure.

“Coryo is not my husband, first off,” you retorted. “At least not yet, but I’m also not going to be a stay-at-home mom who spends her days dealing with the dog, the baby, and the garden. I want a fulfilling career, too! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against stay-at-home mothers, but that life is not for me,”

“Why not?” grandmother knitted her eyebrows together. “Look at you, dear, with that revealing blouse and that pretty face, you don’t need to be pushing yourself like this,”

“Oh my god!” you cried, throwing your hands up. You finally decided you had enough, and with bitterness deep within your soul, you abruptly pushed your chair away from the table and stormed off.

“Watch your mouth, young lady!” your grandmother called out after you. “You weren’t excused!”

“I’m twenty-five years old, grandma, I can excuse myself,” you replied angrily as you traversed upstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood material.

Slamming the door to the bathroom, you made your way to the bathtub where you sat down on the cold tiles with your knees folded up against your chest. You buried your face in your hands as you breathed in and out. In… and out…

God, you really hated your father’s parents. So judgy and crude, you were only left to wonder why they kept getting invited over to these dinners. Your parents knew how they chastised you, and even with their efforts to put a stop to their bigoted comments, they just kept going and going and going.

You were proud of yourself. You were proud of the life you were building for yourself. Sure, you still had eight years of school left, but at the end of the road you were going to be a kick-ass trauma surgeon. And Coryo was on the fast track to earning his master’s in political science. Soon, he would be running for congress, and the two of you would be unstoppable.

But here you were, practicing breathing exercises on the cold tiles of your parents’ bathroom. You needed to move out of there. Anywhere but there.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and the sweet sound of a familiar voice on the other side. Coriolanus, looking as handsome as ever as he gently let himself into the bathroom, joining you on the floor.

“Hey, bunny,” he cooed, taking your hands in his. “Are you okay?”

You grinned dreamily. “Now that you’re here,” this remark elicited a chuckle from Coriolanus, which made you swoon. “Listen, I have to apologize for my family,”

Coriolanus shook his head. “There’s no need to apologize,” he reassured. “You do not have to say anything. You’re not responsible for their actions, not now, not anytime,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “Now, how may I make my sweet girl feel better?”

It didn’t take long before the two of you were on each other like two cannibals competing to see who ripped off the other’s flesh first. Your lips crashed and molded into each other as your warm, wet tongues shoved down each other’s throats in desperate attempts to taste the other’s mouths. Coriolanus tasted like the champagne you planned on indulging yourself with later that night, feeling your mind buzz on the remnants of the alcohol. It ignited your nerves on fire.

It took your breath away when Coriolanus spun you around and pressed you against the bathroom sink, forced to look at the reflection. “Look at you, baby,” he panted, his lips red and swollen from the intense kiss he shared with you just seconds ago. “So fuckin’ pretty and fuckable. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,”

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning the pathetic, needy look on your face. You gasped slightly as Coriolanus grabbed your jaw, preventing you from looking away. “I want you to look while I fuck you,” he said, pressing his hardened bulge into your backside which made your eyes slightly roll back into your head. “I know that pussy of yours is throbbing for me, hm? Is it, bunny?”

You opened your eyes and looked at the blush that was beginning to appear on your cheeks. “Mmm’yes,” you whined. “Want you so bad, please. But we have to be quiet. Can’t let my family hear us,”

Before you could say anything else, Coriolanus’s hand slapped onto your mouth making your gasps and breaths all muffled. “There’s a solution for you, my dove,” he murmured into your ear. “Now, here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to remove my hand and pull up that pretty little skirt of yours. Then, I’m going take off your panties, then fuck you in the ass. Am I clear?”

You and Coriolanus have indulged in anal before. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but it surely wasn’t unwelcome. Your pussy throbbed with anticipation at the thought of Coryo’s throbbing, hard cock in your tight asshole. You nodded, and he removed his hand from your mouth and cupped it in front of your lips. “Spit in my hand,” he ordered, and you drooled a generous amount of saliva into the palm of his hand.

You could hear his wet hand stroke himself in prep to enter you. With your skirt hiked up and your panties gone, you made sure to relax and breathe as you felt Coriolanus push the tip of his cock into your ass. Your efforts to stay quiet flew out the window as a primal, low groan escaped your throat as your ass became full of his dick.

“Fuuuck…” you groaned, hiking your leg up on the bathroom sink to allow Coriolanus to go deeper. God, it felt so fucking good having his dick deep in your ass. So dirty, and so fucking hot.

In a matter of moments, Coriolanus was thrusting his hips hard and deep inside you, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry of pleasure. You resorted to quiet curses and panting to help you express how good you were feeling in that moment. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. There was a slight sting to being penetrated in the ass, but it wasn’t painful to you. In fact, it only added to the overwhelming pleasure building in your nether regions.

“Such a tight fuckin’ ass,” Coriolanus murmured, grabbing your jaw once again. “Look at you, bunny, so fuckin’ needy for this cock in your ass, yeah?”

You had to be quiet. You needed too. But by god, the sound of Coriolanus speaking pure filth in your ears was insatiable. “Yes,” you growled through gritted teeth, your eyes flicking between your face and Coriolanus’s. “Fuckin’ love your cock in my ass, fuck,”

“Such a naughty girl,” he teased, taking a look down to watch his dick pump in and out of your hole. The sound of your panting and groaning mixed with Coriolanus’s grunts, slightly echoing throughout the bathroom.

You whined as you felt him withdraw from your hole, only for him to spin you around once again and help you on top of the bathroom counter. You willingly spread your legs and watched as Coriolanus re-entered your ass before withdrawing completely once more, and then he repeated these actions again, and again, and again.

“Stop teasing,” you whined, reaching a hand down to play with your pussy only for Coriolanus to swat your hand away, much to your dismay.

Coriolanus pinned both of your hands behind your back. “No touching. You’re going to come from my cock in your ass or you won’t come at all,”

You nodded obediently, your body rocking back and forth in time with his thrusts. You could feel your pussy drooling its juices from how unbelievably aroused you were. It was almost uncomfortable how badly your clit ached to be touched, but you wanted to obey your boyfriend’s orders, so you held back.

“My naughty bunny,” Coriolanus moaned. “Your ass is so tight around my cock. Feels so good. You’re making me feel so – fuck – so fucking good,”

Your mouth fell open as your panting grew more frequent. “Yes, fuck my ass,” you whispered. “Make me come from my ass, baby, please,”

“Are you close, love?”

“Yes, yes – fuck,” you threw your head back as moans threatened to escape your throat, your pleasure only heightened as Coriolanus pressed open-mouthed kisses all along your neck. You were about to come undone from just having his cock in your ass, and it was going to feel so, so good.

“Coming,” you mewled, your legs beginning to shake and the familiar feeling of an itching pulsation deep within your pussy. “Oh god, I’m coming from my ass. Fuck… fuck…!”

In an explosion of pleasure that made you see stars, your orgasm hit you like a truck as your juices gushed out of your pussy. You squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as it took every fiber of your being to not scream out in pure ecstasy. You continued to squirt all over yourself and Coriolanus’s cock. There was no doubt in your mind that your skirt was ruined.

Coriolanus withdrew from your hole to pump on his own cock until thick, white ropes hit your hole. The sound of his moans and groans pleasantly filled your ears. Your legs were still shaking, and you felt your breath nearly get knocked out of your lungs as you felt his shaft re-enter your ass, fucking his cum into you.

It took a good five minutes before the haze of your orgasm left your brain and you were able to think clearly again. You still sat on the kitchen counter as Coriolanus softly kissed your lips, praising you and telling you how good of a job you did.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, holding his face with your hands.

You felt Coriolanus’s lips tug into a smile. “I know you do, my dove,”

It impressed you how well you cleaned yourself up as you prepared to join your family once again, but as you opened the door of the bathroom, your blood ran cold as you found your older sister waiting outside with a disappointed look on her face.

“Really?” she asked. “During dinner?”

God damnit.

don't be shy, let's talk. ♡

[alijuan]

Ascended Astarion is true unlike Spawn Astarion who pretends to be good for Tav

If i see that opinion again i will explode🫠

It's funny because Astarion will only approves if you persuade him not to perform the ritual.

A lot of people don't understand the concept of grey morality and it shows. Many people justify him but this type of AA fan thinks worse of him than he really is. He needs the ritual not because he's a power-hungry villain, but because he needs safety for himself and his lover. Depending on Tav/Durge's actions, he either stays with the feeling of fear (AA is still afraid deep inside, the game files confirm this) or he fights against it and becomes truly free of Cazador and fear (spawn ending). The dialogue with Durge about not being afraid is wonderful and shows difference between SA and AA.

Astarion: This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear. Or else we never really live. Astarion: I'm not afraid. Not of you, not of your darkness, and not of our future.

The point of the spawn ending is that Tav/Durge saw him as more than just an outward image of a power-hungry killer incapable of becoming a better person. But if you can't see beyond that image, he will think that he has no choice but to continue living in the world that Cazador has built for him. If you think that AA is his best ending because he is evil then you have failed to understand his whole personality.

I feel safe with you. Seen.

Despite of his love of killing (he is a vampire after all), he repeatedly showed compassion and guilt for luring people. Before the ritual, he literally convinced himself that he should kill spawn for power. Astarion rationalises this to protect his psyche, because he’s clearly not the type of guy who can sacrifice thousands of people to the devil and not feel anything about it.

Durge/Tav: This isn’t you, Astarion. Not really. Astarion: It should be.

I really like that the player technically makes the insight check and that there’s an advantage when they're romancing Astarion. Tav/Durge could see through the image Astarion was trying to create. They saw an elf whose fear prevented him from seeing all the possibilities.

Astarion: When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now.

Just as Astarion saw Durge not just as serial killer, but as someone who could defeat Urge and become a better person.

Durge: I am myself at last. You don't need to fear anything from me ever again. Astarion: I knew you had that sweat heart all along. I was alarmed by you sometimes, scandalised even, but somehow by your side, I still only ever saw you.

AA fans also often ignore the fact that the game has good and bad endings in the companion stories. And it's not about morality. All companion quests are literally about how the desired and obvious path leads to a bad ending. And Astarion is no exception. In a good ending, he gets the chance to heal and finally acceptes himself and his vampire nature, in a bad ending, he gives up and regresses as a person.

Spawn Astarion knows what he wants and says it. SA is ready for a relationship and sex. Ascended Astarion can’t answer the question of what he wants, so he acts as a vampire lord should. AA is literally back to the state of the first act and has started manipulating Tav/Durge through sex again (even repeating the same phrases). This is why he doesn’t really want sex (he approves if you choose the no sex option and he definitely dissociated during the sex scene) unlike Spawn Astarion who initiated it.

Spawn Astarion is the same Astarion who enjoys “murder and terror” and you can see that clearly in his “hero” ending (more like “antihero”). And this is the ending without romance, he chose it himself. And the whole idea of him pretending to be good for Tav is actually meaningless without romance.

Ascended Astarion is the same Astarion, but stuck in a black and white world of fear and domination.

SA scene ends with hope music (instrumental version of I want to live) AA scene ends with chains.

And there’s so much more. Larian specifically showed the difference between good and bad endings in the dialogues, scenes after ritual, recent updates and even the interview so people would definitely understand, but they didn't🙃 Some AA fans (especially on youtube and larian forum) are on a new level of delusion.