#overall? seemingly useless

[wordy-little-witch]

Is it bad to want to see more of Ghost Roger shenanigans? Because now that the man knows he can talk to the living world... The conversations, Perona is getting so many stories about Buggy and Shanks as children. Poor Buggy

OUGH yes absolutely give me an excuse to write about this bc it's so silly and it's arguably one of my most favorite things ever aaaaaa

Roger is just SO excited, and while he does have HUGE Girl Dad energy, he's hitting all the Dad Points. He's a Capital D Dad. The D in Gol D Roger stands for DAD and I cannot articulate this enough. It's hilarious. He's an idiot. He made so many mistakes but he always always ALWAYS did his best to do right by his kids and he loved them with every cell in his body. He was the type of parent who would have a wallet solely for the opportunity to flip it open dramatically and unroll a mile long strip of baby photos.

Even being dead won't stop him from gushing about his sons and embarrassing them.

Perona ultimately becomes his main focus because Fresh Meat, and she's just gobbling this up. They're mutually trying desperately to figure out how to get ghost pictures into the physical world. She has all the tea.

Up to and including walking up to Buggy one day during a cross guild meeting, no regard whatsoever for the "uncute and stuffy vibe" to instead redirect focus onto the Important Stuff.

"Hey Buggy, did you really once dress in drag ad a child to get free food at Fishman island"

Crocodile chokes on his cigar. Mihawk damn near does a spit take. Buggy just sighs.

"Yeah."

"Are there pictures"

"Somewhere probably"

"Can I h-"

"No"

"Booo you're mean! Grandpa Roger said I could"

Buggy then manages to somehow snort and gasp, coughing harshly as his whiskey drips from his nose. "GRANDPA WHO?!?!?!"

Meanwhile Roger is floating in the upper corner in full gremlin pose as he cackle like the menace he is. ((And no he does not flinch when Buggy side eyes him aggressively while cleaning his face.... he just..... decided suddenly and with no particular reason to avoid his clown child's room for the next three to five business weeks. Pranks can be played elsewhere. No, he isn't scared of his most unhinged child.... of course not............ ((the old scar from a tiny mouth clamping on his ankle aches a little, but he's very good at ignoring things))))

All of this is, ofc, not even touching on the hijinks the kids got up to together. Perona has SO much blackmail!!!

[xenteaart]

it's not about the roses

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but despite a brief mention of the studio it can fit any au, really) word count: 1,1k genre/warnings: er, fluff, a hint of angst if you squint but overall just tooth rotting sweetness. reader being kinda vulnerable author's note: inspired by my and @skzms 's channie brain worms, me crying over how boyfie he is in may's dms and her coming up with this little prompt. i'm manifesting a sweet healthy relationship for y'all, never settle for less <3

you were never the one for flowers, really.

it just didn’t seem anything meaningful or special, an occasional cute little bouquet on some first date you had ages ago, meeting someone completely new after mindlessly swiping them right on a dating app. plus, it’s always such a bother to take care for it. disassemble the thing, cut the stems, change the water, maybe cut off the leaves too.

at some point, you began to think of yourself as more of a practical person, taking gift giving to the point where it completely lost symbolism. always getting your friends and family either money or something they specifically asked for.

“at least, they’re actually gonna use it and get some utility out of it. ‘s good, right?” you thought to yourself, ticking a box on one of your friend’s wishlists for their birthday. it is good. no stress of choosing and endlessly pondering whether they’ll like it or not.

or is it avoiding the vulnerability of going down a more symbolic route if they don’t happen to respond to your gift the way you’d like them to after carefully planting hidden meanings and confessions all over a seemingly useless present? yeah, maybe, that’s the one, actually.

it was a regular saturday evening, no work, no plans, no big day or anything to celebrate. so, naturally, you were just spending the time at your place, resting after successfully having done all the house chores in one go.

purposelessly lying on the bed, you wondered what chris was up to. it wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you two to leave each other hanging during the day, keeping each other’s messages unread and waiting for some free time to give a thoughtful, proper reply.

but the little “1” next to your kakaotalk message was starting to feel unfriendly because... honestly? you just missed him. you wanted to know about his day, what he ate for lunch and whether work was okay today (knowing full well the man couldn’t care less about days of the week, coming over at the studio any time he needed or pleased).

distracting yourself with scrolling tiktok for a quick dopamine hit, you end up losing track of time a little. and the thing bringing you back to reality is chan’s short message, popping up on your notifications bar.

“can you come out for a sec? i’m at the door hehe~”

it takes you three times to read to finally understand what it actually means. he doesn’t have keys to your apartment yet, and you mostly hang out at his place anyways, so him coming all the way to the opposite side of the city makes your heart skip a beat.

you rush to the door and open it almost immediately, only to see channie, your channie, standing right in front of you with a nice bouquet of red roses wrapped up in kraft paper. the next thing you notice is chan’s wide smile, so sincere and endearing it makes you wanna cry on the spot.

you were never the one for flowers, really.

red roses always seemed like something either too vulgar or “easy”. something that becomes men’s first pick because they just never care enough to look for anything else and assume every girl loves it by default.

right now, however, it doesn’t feel like either of those.

the way chris is a bit nervous and really excited all at once; his hands gripping at the crunchy paper-wrapped base as he's waiting to give the flowers to you. the way his eyes sparkle and shine with warmth and genuine adoration for you. and you read past the roses, you learn so much more from it.

you learn how he’s been quiet because he was plotting a little surprise for you, trying not to be too obvious.

you see how he thought of you during the entire process, from an idea to carefully picking out the best flowers, making sure they’re fresh and pretty and will stay this way a while.

you can hear his timid little “thank you” to the florist as they exchange their bows and polite smiles.

you imagine the slightly awkward small talk with the taxi driver asking him about the occasion — the traffic and the parking area next to your building are awful, so you’re guessing he did take the taxi. and the drivers sure love to talk on the long drives, this one you had to learn the hard way.

gosh, chan looks so warm and… so soft, his lips making a familiar heartbreaking :] shape.

snapping out of your thoughts, you look into chris’s eyes and swallow down a salty lump in your throat.

“please don’t be alarmed, but i probably will cry a little,” you warn him before your voice gives out and take the roses, holding them close to your chest where the heart is bleeding.

“so pretty,” you stare down at the gentle velvety petals and sniff quietly.

chan looks worried for a moment but quickly pulls you into his embrace, stepping into the apartment and locking the door behind him.

“hey-y, i expected a smile, not your tears, baby. i didn’t upset you, did i?” to which you shake your head to reassure him.

“no, no, ‘course not! what do you mean? they’re so nice. i’m just… really happy? and i missed you. so much,” the last words come out like a weak mouse squeak as you close your eyes and let your emotions roll down your cheeks, staining your skin wet.

chan nods and takes your face into his palms, wiping away the tears and looking at you so lovingly you think you might actually break.

“i missed you too, baby. do you mind if i stay the night? i…- uh. i bought some face masks too, so we can just relax a little before bed and cuddle?”

you squeeze out a little “yeah” in response, headbutting his forehead and putting your arm around him, with another still holding the roses carefully.

“i love you,” you say slightly louder, making sure that he hears it.

maybe, gifts don’t have to be practical all the time. maybe, it’s okay to put sentimental value into simple, useless things sometimes. make them mean something.

“i love you too, baby,” chris hums still a little confused, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back and planting a chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose.

you reach for his plump soft lips and press yours against them. and even though your tastebuds can feel the salt, it’s the sweetest kiss you two have shared so far.

[ilycosy]

❝ PERFECTION ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary — being a child of aphrodite deems you perfect from the moment you get claimed, the expection of complete and utter perfection can weigh down on somebody. somehow, a simple hermes boy reaches all those expectations without even trying.

warnings : hurt/comfort but it's platonic , this takes place in noted , luke is a cocky dumbass & reader is heavily implied to be autistic

aﾉn — first fic for noted !! the smau is being worked on l8r since im a little exhausted n not feeling well again but , i have this to hold u guys over <3 + some smut in drafts :33 every1 say thank u kai for proofreading this <33 @grsveyrrd

you couldn't remember the last time you felt at ease, being at camp always got your blood pumping and the rush of adrenaline in your veins. even being a daughter of aphrodite, stereotypically dainty, you still felt that rush for glory.

you couldn't ever express that need for it though, as camp counselor, you were always expected to guide younger campers into their quests and their own legacy while ignoring your own. it seemed that you were the only one held to that expectation though, clearly shown by hermes cabin.

luke castellan, son of hermes. god of messaging and traveling, he always seemed to be on the move— talking idly with anyone who will listen, overall somebody who people can look up to.

not you though, you couldn't help but resent him. his overly confident smile and cute head tilt, not to mention how he's always winning every sword fight he's ever been in. he'd say something stupid like 'perks of being the best in the last three-hundred years', and then your eyeroll would just fuel his ego.

perfection was expected at camp, from everybody. being the pride of the gods was almost unachievable, almost.

you and luke had always seemed to never get along, most played it off as playful banter but you both knew it was something more. you just couldn't stand each other, no matter how hard you both tried.

he was just easily amazing at everything he does, seemingly rushing into things without thinking and winning. while you were stuck on the opposite team desperately working, never succeeding.

frustration was the worst way to describe it, it barely encompassed everything you felt. "hey," a voice spoke out, sounding raspy from thirst. "luke is wondering where you are, it's almost time for archery."

evan, while not related to you in any way, he was basically your brother. you took a shaky breath as you looked down at the lake, the prickling pain of every sense coming alive at full force now hitting you.

you didn't respond to him, unable to form the words to describe how much you didn't want to face luke and be proved to be a fool again. the metallic clink of evan's armor was heard as he sat down next to you, he was supposed to be at a practice run of capture the flag right now.

"you're skipping practice." you state, your head resting on your legs as you breathe heavy. regulating yourself the way chiron taught you, even though it barely ever worked.

you heard the click of his mouth before he went quiet, drumming his fingers on his knee before speaking. "im helping my sister," he says, scrunching up his nose at the endearment he called you himself. "practice can't wait, besides ill just fall asleep."

you laugh but it hurts, not a good hurt but more of a achey hurt. hurt for the exertion of emotion, hurt that he finds himself useless in an important sport, and hurt that you're failing to meet your obligations for the other campers at archery practice.

evan fills the silence until he can't anymore, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. sometimes you wonder if he's mr. d's son with how he can act so witty and talkative with you, even though he's a hermit around others.

eventually though, his predictions were right. two hours into his talking he begins to lean, falling asleep almost as fast as he began talking. resting his head on your shoulder, his black hair tickling your cheek.

his smell was comforting though, and even though the armor he hadn't shed dug into your side and your stomach as you laid down with him on you— you couldn't imagine trading it.

his light snores and drool seeped into your bright orange shirt, but you ignored it. using his body as a weighted blanket as you looked out into the water, finding the warm sun and soft grass rather comfortable.

you drifted off easily, hypnos taking you under his wing as he allowed you a peaceful sleep. freed from worries and the expectations, he didn't even let you wake when another counselor found you guys.

luke looked down at the two of you in the grass, taking a moment to just be a tired teen with you before gently picking you up. smiling gently at evan's sleepy face before gesturing him to follow him back to the cabins, cradling you maybe a bit too close than he would with others.

but evan wouldn't say anything, the moment was perfect even if you didn't remember it. (he definitely took a picture though).

[gimmick-blog-reviewer]

Gimmick Blog: @nuderater

Gimmick: Rating nudes Gimmick rating: 5/10, could be done well, but is executed poorly. Blog rating: -1/10, I hate you.

Overall rating: 2/10, you disgust me. I think the idea of a nude rating blog could be done well, great even. But I think you are the worst possible execution of the concept that could theoretically maintain an air of objectivity. That said, I don't think you maintain that air. Your lack of feedback on how one could improve their nudes, coupled with your seemingly arbitrary rating provides nothing to the people you are rating and only judges them. You are less than useless, and likely actively harmful. Never once have you rating someone 9 or above, nothing is perfect or even approaching so for you. When you rate someone's nude an 8.4, I imagine them wondering (if they see or care about you at all) what they could have done to get a higher rating. But you don't provide feedback, you don't care, you judge and move on. Only four times have you judged someone's nude under a 5/10, with seemingly no pattern in what you find distasteful. It feels less like there is something you don't like in a nude and more like you want to rate someone low. Finally, you don't take any level of context into consideration. This was the factor that first led to my hate of you. You rated a nude by @virtualgirlafterdark a 5/10, and it responded with "yeah that's fair." You didn't take into account that it's a trans woman, that it might be new to taking nudes, or that its body is still developing thanks to HRT. You gave it a flat 5/10 with no feedback. How do you think it felt after that? Additionally I want to talk about the lowest rating you have ever given. In this post on Oct 27th, you rated (I assume) a woman a solid 2/10 for what is realistically a fairly mediocre nude. But disregarding the nude itself, it's coupled with the caption "ugly and pretty at the same time :)". How do you think a woman who just called herself ugly would feel being described as a 2/10? You thoroughly disgust me and I firmly believe this website would be better without you on it.

There's a defense to be made that the nude rater is rating the quality of the pictures themselves, the composition, the lighting. But objectively well taken images such as this are routinely rated lower than objectively poorly taken images such as this. Additionally, images that feature non "conventionally attractive" aspects in them are often rated significantly lower. Sagging breasts, armpit hair, veiny breasts, are all subjected to lower ratings. It should also be noted that nuderater exclusively rates the nudes of people with more femininely presenting bodies. No amount of calling one's taste in the human body "sophisticated" will seperate you from the fact that you have the opinions of the average pornhub watcher.

All in all I find Nuderater to be a repugnant misogynist who brings nothing to the platform and leaves only hurt feelings.

[somerandomdudelmao]

ok wait hold up can we actually just like talk for a second about Donnie's behavior in these last few pages??

Before he found out about the infection, Donnie was still very nonchalant about a lot of situations, but he always had a sense of care and compassion for certain things, like for example, his family and friends. He used a lot of sarcasm and was overall just the snarky autistic tech dude who had more love than he could even imagine giving. He had a relentless grip on his bad-boy image, was stubborn as all hell, but was a well-rounded, lovely guy!

And then the realization hit that he was going to die sooner than expected. Then...

Poof!

Now he's just a shell (Hahaahahahahaha) of who he used to be. Now all he has for himself is a bunch of self-deprecating jokes, responsibilities to pass on to others, and a lack of hope that is just so incredibly unlike him. He still has the sarcasm, sure, but this time it's a lot more dry and emotionless. There's no brevity or lightheartedness to his words anymore, it's all just a monotone mess of half-assed goodbyes and thrown out dreams for the future. Any method of survival has seemingly been lost to time for Donnie, so now he's just kinda... Accepting the fact he's gonna die soon, which only leaves him with his own decaying body and a voice he doesn't even want anymore. And judging by the way he just ignores or shrugs aside everyone's concern, it's all basically just him saying, "Welp, guess I'll die. Here's my shit, no will required."

Also another thing I noticed is that Donnie is basically not allowed to really do anything anymore because he's at risk of dying sooner than he already thinks he will. If he gets more rest and works less, his death come significantly slower.

Meaning he must feel incredibly useless right now.

I think I've also pinpointed the time when this all started happening to Donnie btw. It's a very small moment and I don't have the screenshot on me rn but I think it was in the robo-Raph comic, specifically the moment when Donnie was zooming over to Casey and went "Past" that Kraang alien dude on the way. I imagine he didn't really go past and instead went through, because u know, he's Donatello. If given the chance to commit murder, he will commit, and he very much had the chance right there. I think he went through that Kraang alien, (Very plausible given how fast he was going like jesus- ) got its blood inside a cut or something, and it infected him via his veins or something. Kind of a stretch to assume this since it literally could've been something that took place before the time of this comic series, but this was the earliest instance of foreshadowing/possible infection that I can think of.

I also want to apologize for making all those jokes about like taking you to court and throwing you in jail and stuff because maybe they came off as mean or rude at some points. And for constantly flooding your inbox lol-

Thanks for existing and for making this comic, and congrats on beating the deadline at work! I think you deserve a cookie for that! *Gives a million more cookies* oh yeah and those are for you being you

Oh my fuckiNG GoD...

I don't even know what to say to that

I guess I just want everyone else to be able to read it too because..oh shit...oh wow.

[breadcat-xx]

@jegulus-microfic

17.01.2024 - dream - 403 words

Sometimes, James is afraid all of this might be a dream.

He’s always lived a pretty happy life. He grew up in a warm, loving home with parents who were well-off. He had the best of friends back at Hogwarts and keeps in touch with many of them even now. He likes his job, married the love of his life and they moved into the cosiest of homes a few years ago.

He truly hadn’t believed he could become any happier. And then Harry was born.

James can’t put into words how overwhelmed he feels with love and affection as he watches Regulus feed their boy spoonfuls of the baby food he prepared earlier.

Harry’s chubby cheeks are covered in the green sludge, and his husband has seemingly given up on cleaning them in between bites. James can’t blame him. It’s a rather useless undertaking.

Regulus hums interestedly as Harry babbles nonsensically, and all James can do is watch him in silence. His lover is tired, he can tell, but being the amazing father he is, he puts in unshakable effort when it comes to caring for their son.

It’s inspiring. James finds himself falling in love all over again as he watches him flourish in his role as a parent.

Once the bowl of food has been emptied, Regulus wipes a satisfied Harry’s cheeks one last time and then lifts him out of his seat.

“Let’s go pick out an outfit for Teddy’s birthday party, huh?” He says, smiling at their son as he leans against his chest. “Oh, Jamie, let’s put him in those little overalls we got him, Sirius is going to lose his mi— Are you crying?”

James blinks rapidly in an attempt to get rid of the tears that have started to form in the corners of his eyes. He knows it’s silly, but it’s almost like becoming a dad has made him so much more emotional.

Regulus walks up to him, and when he comes to a stop next to his chair, James wraps an arm around him and allows Harry to reach for his glasses.

“I’m just really happy…” He whispers.

Regulus huffs and looks rather amused by his explanation. “You’re a huge sap, Potter.” He says, but he does lean in to press a comforting kiss to his forehead.

This time around, James is one hundred percent certain; this is what peak happiness feels like.

[fictophilianworld]

So, hear me out:

When I first watched Captain America: Civil War, I was confused. I expected Steve to be one of the first Avengers to agree to the Sokovia Accords, since he’s a soldier and it should be his nature to like, follow orders and higher power, right? Right?

And then when Rhodey goes “That’s dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about.” I realized something very crucial:

Steve was born in 1918, and went under ice in what, 45? 

Think about it. WWI ended in November 1918. The first international organization (The League of Nations) was conjoined in 1920. It did a *shitty* job in keeping world peace, right? And if you think about it, most of us have very strong memories of childhood (from I’d say about age 7 and onwards). So if you think about it, Steve would’ve been 7 in like 1925. What was going on in the 20s and 30s? The Great fucking Depression (1929-1939). Not to mention the shitty childhood he had. So overall Steve couldn’t have developed a very good image of international organizations or societies. He doesn’t understand the weight, the  gravity of it. The United Nations was formed in October 1945, about eight months after Steve’s fall. He never really saw the impact of it. I mean, he woke up in like 2011 or something, right? He never really got to feel the importance of it. He has no respect for international societies, and believes they are overall pretty powerless. Also let’s not forget the fact that this man *desperately* wanted to join the army, and then got turned into a super soldier. Like, this man has this unconscious idea that *he’s* gotta be the one to save the day. He’s the hero through and through. And he’s thinking that if he can’t be there to save the day, if he’s restricted by some *useless* organization that’s just (seemingly) afraid of power and doesn’t understand the Greater Good, no one can save anything/anyone in the end. 

That’s why he’s against the Accords. Everything makes sense now.

[brodygold]

The Perfect Gift

The alarm went off at 6:30 on the dot. Brody immediately reached over to turn it off. He wasn’t a morning person in the slightest, but circumstances demanded his attention this morning. The Golden Army management team was having an important meeting to discuss changes being made, and as a captain, Brody was expected to attend of course. He wasn’t sure why they needed to have a meeting on New Years Eve (and on Saturday no less), but that was Grayden for you. Always the planner of the group that bro was. He couldn’t be too mad, since Grayden had also planned a New Years Eve party with a Secret Santa at the end.

Brody sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He still needed to figure out a gift for the Secret Santa. He’d been so busy with the team and organizing the Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa festivities he’d completely forgotten. It needed to be perfect, especially since it was for Captain Richard. Cap deserved something special, he founded the team for crying out loud! He deserved the best, better than Brody could give him.

He went into the kitchen for a quick breakfast, using the last of the cereal. He’d have to remember to buy more. Next he went to the bathroom, taking his meds and brushing his teeth. Getting dressed in his signature gold jersey and shorts (the weather was pretty mild even for the time of year), he grabbed a light jacket and headed out on his jog to the stadium.

The meeting was pretty boring overall. Nothing to write home about really. Just the usual talk of polo drone changes and what the next weekly theme should be. One could easily mistake these meetings as interchangeable. Brody contributed where he could, but soon the meeting was over and he was on his way out, only to be stopped by Grayden with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Brody. Can we talk for a minute?”

Brody turned around slowly. It wasn’t like the head mascot to talk one on one like this with him.

“Yeah, sure bro. What’s up?”

“Are you ready for the party tonight? I know you were busy with the Christmas party preparations and general team duties. Anything I can do to help?”

Brody hid his surprise. He had thought he was hiding his feelings pretty well. Now his good bro was worried about him. He couldn’t burden others with his problems. No, he needed to do this on his own. 

“Yeah bro. I’m all set. Just got a few more things to get done today beforehand. No need to worry!” Brody put his best smile on, hoping Grayden wouldn’t notice his stress.

“If you say so, bro. Just know we’re all here for you. Every time.” 

Brody took the opportunity to get out of there. He had work to do.

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

It turns out gift shopping was rather difficult. There were so many potential gifts at each store, but none of them felt just right for Cap. For how much the two of them talked, he was surprisingly hard to buy a gift for. He checked clothing stores, jewelry stores, even a home appliance store. How do you buy a gift for someone who seemingly had it all? The party was in an hour, and Brody was still nowhere close to the perfect gift.  He just had to go with something at this point. He went to a restaurant he remembered Cap talking about recently and got a gift card. He hoped it would be enough.

The party was actually amazing. The mascots and water boys had spent the whole day decorating the stadium lobby and it showed. Beautiful golden lights and streamers hung on the walls, the tables were covered by golden tablecloths, and the food was catered from one of the best restaurants in town. The Golden Army knew how to party. 

Brody spent most of the time mingling with the different team members, trying to push his guilt down. Cap deserved so much better than a gift card. Why was he so useless that he couldn’t figure out what to get one of his favorite people? When the gift exchange came, Brody couldn’t even look Cap in the eye as he handed off the gift card, not even wrapped, before walking out of the stadium ashamed. He couldn’t show his face in there anymore. He’d ruined the party, so he might as well head on home. 

As he walked, he suddenly remembered why the restaurant was familiar to him: Cap had mentioned getting food poisoning there last month. Not only did he give the laziest gift ever, but it was something Cap wouldn’t even use! Yeah, he definitely needed to head home after that embarrassment. He didn’t even bother staying up until midnight for the new year, taking some melatonin and hopping into bed as soon as he could, not even bothering to change out of his jersey.

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

The alarm went off at 6:30 on the dot. Which was weird because it was Sunday and Brody didn’t have anything he needed to do that day. He swore he turned his alarm off yesterday… And that he hadn't changed into pajamas last night. He sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, before getting up to make breakfast. Maybe Cap Scott, Daniel, Henry, or Percival would be up to do something today. 

He’d forgotten to get more cereal yesterday but apparently he still had some left over and didn’t realize. He took his time eating today, not having any plans. Going to the bathroom, he was surprised to see Saturday’s medication still in its little box. Maybe that’s why he was feeling kinda off yesterday? He shook his head and grabbed his meds, figuring he needed to take them today at least. He went out for a quick run and was just getting back when he got a call from Cap Richard. Brody was tempted to let it go to voicemail but figured that would make things even more awkward. 

“Brody, bro, where are you? The meeting just started!” 

Brody blinked for a minute, thoughts racing through his head. Did they have another meeting planned that he'd forgotten about? He checked his calendar but Sunday was completely blank. 

“Sorry, Cap. I’m not seeing anything in my calendar. Did we mention this at yesterday’s meeting?”

Brody could hear a frustrated sigh on the other end. “Brody, we’ve been talking about this meeting for weeks now. We didn’t have a meeting yesterday. Look, just get over here when you can.” And he hung up before Brody could ask any more questions. 

Was he going crazy? Probably.

Brody ran as fast as he could to the stadium. The meeting was well underway as he sat down in his usual chair, panting. It was pretty boring overall. Nothing to write home about really. Just the usual talk of polo drone changes and what the next weekly theme should be. One could easily mistake the meetings as interchangeable. Brody swore they’d just covered this stuff yesterday, but kept his mouth shut about that. No need to step on any more toes than he already had.

As the meeting ended and everyone started going their separate ways, Grayden put his hand on Brody’s shoulder again. 

“Hey Brody. Can we talk for a minute?”

Brody turned around slowly. It wasn’t like the head mascot to talk one on one like this with him, especially not two days in a row.

“Yeah, sure bro. What’s up now?”

“Are you ready for the party tonight? I know you were busy with the Christmas party preparations and general team duties. Anything I can do to help?”

Brody really wanted to look at Grayden like he’d grown an extra head. But until he knew what was going on, he needed to tread lightly and deal with it on his own.

“Yeah, bro. I’m all good. Just need to run a few errands. No need to worry about me!”

Grayden’s hand firmly stayed on Brody’s shoulder. “We all worry about you, Brody. We know this year hasn’t been easy on you. Just know we’re all here for you. Every time.”

“I know, bro. More than you know,” and he turned to leave once more.

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

The more Brody thought about it, the better he felt about this whole situation. If today really was Saturday again, then no one knew about the awful gift he’d gotten Cap! He could make it up to him! He headed off to the stores, determined to figure this out.

It turns out finding a gift the second time around is no easier than the first. The only advantage he had was what not to give Cap. Running out of time again, he settled on a golden lotion from a local shop. Everyone needed lotion, right?

Well, apparently not. Cap has sensitive skin and uses specialty lotions that he imports from Italy. So once again his gift was wrong. It wasn’t perfect like he deserved. Brody didn’t head home early this time, but kept mostly to himself in the corner. His bros tried to get him involved in the games and to watch the fireworks going off, but he wasn’t interested. With any luck, it’d be Saturday again somehow. That's usually how this worked in the movies, right?

Brody’s luck was confirmed as the countdown to the New Year morphed into his morning alarm going off, at 6:30 on the dot. He just sighed, in frustration or relief he wasn’t sure yet.

As the loops continued, Brody spent more and more time trying to find the perfect gift. Maybe that was how he could break out of this mess. But everything he tried turned out wrong in the worst ways possible. It was almost comedic at times.

The scented candle started a fire, causing the entire building to be evacuated into the cold December air. Brody was surprised he wasn’t immediately fired.

The jacket was two sizes too small. Brody cursed under his breath for that one. He really should know Cap’s measurements by now.

Cap and the other bros didn’t understand the joke on the novelty t-shirt, making the gift kinda pointless. He’d laughed when he saw it and thought Cap would appreciate it too…

The chocolate was nice, but Cap was watching his weight. He shared it with all of the bros.

The puppy wasn’t even worth mentioning. Brody was glad everyone would forget about that one.

By the twenty fifth loop, Brody was running out of ideas. The stupid management meeting wasn’t helping things either. Neither was Grayden being “helpful” each and every time. As he reached to put his hand on Brody’s shoulder once again, he snapped.

“What do you want!?”

Grayden froze, hand in mid air and eyes wide.

Brody sighed. “Sorry. I’ve just been frustrated lately. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Brody. Just remember we’re here for you. Every time.”

Time…

Might be worth a shot.

“I know, bro. Actually, I could use your help. I’ve been trying to think of the perfect gift for Cap for the Secret Santa. It’s been days and everything I think of doesn’t work. Do you have any ideas?”

“Hmm. He does sound tough to shop for. What do you get a man who seemingly has everything?”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Brody sighed again, glad to be letting this out.

“What about something special and from the heart? Something he can’t buy in a store.”

“Something he can’t buy in a store… That’s it! Grayden, bro, you’re a genius!” Brody rushed forward and tackled him in a hug before running out to start on his plan.

It took quite a few more loops to perfect it, but eventually on the forty seventh loop Brody appeared in the Golden Army stadium, microphone in hand as he spoke aloud:

O Captain! My Captain! Our Golden Game is won! The crowd awaits, the trophies gleam beneath the golden sun, The field is lined, the banners wave, the rival Vanguard fell, While we, the loyal Golden Army, can hear the victory bell. But O heart! Heart! Heart! O the fight we played with might, On the grass, our Captain stands, A beacon in golden light.

O Captain! My Captain! Rise up and hear the cheer! For you have led with steadfast heart and driven off our fear. For Richard, bold and true, the team he held so strong, Each pass, each goal, a battle won, our trust in him lifelong. Your vision is our guide, Through every match and tide, With you, we take great pride, And face the world wide-eyed.

O Captain! My Captain! Your Golden Army stands, Each jersey worn with honor, each goal a legend’s brand. We follow you through trial and storm, through every match and test, The Golden Army marches on, united, at its best. But Captain, never stray, Lead us to brighter days, Together, we shall play, The Golden Army’s way.

The room fell silent as Brody finished speaking before picking up in applause. Captain Richard approached him as he put the mic down. 

“That was amazing Brody. The best present I could have asked for.”

“I’m glad you liked it, Cap. I made it special just for you.”

“I could tell it came from the heart. I’m touched how much you care.”

“More than you know, Cap. More than you know.”

Richard patted the other captain on the back. “Let’s go. The fireworks are starting soon. After we welcome the new year, why don’t we go out for an early breakfast? Something special.”

Brody smiled. “Of course. I don’t plan on missing it for the world.”

As it crossed over to midnight, Brody was glad he could keep his word.

Do you want to join the Golden Army? DM me, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.

[aheathen-conceivably]

There came a day when Josephine couldn’t try any longer. She couldn’t bear to smile or socialize while insults were thrown in her face, or try to stay out of the way while she became more and more useless to people who had once relied on her. The idea of trying, only to be defeated or scolded or ignored, became an insurmountable task, one laden with her absolute lack of independence in this place where she relied on everyone else to teach her anything. 

Even her clothes, the apron and her dirt stained hands, obscured who she thought she was. She no longer recognized her own life; her goals and her plans had been subsumed in the dry, desperate air around her until she felt like a husk of who she had once been. The woman in the mirror was someone else entirely, someone with no utility, a bother to those around her, a failure without a future.

So one morning instead of rising and doing it all again, of trying and trying until she was faced with the possibility that she was the failure, Josephine simply stopped trying. Her legs seemed unwilling to move, to hold her weight atop the roughened floorboards, and for the first time in her life she gave into the inertia. Giorgio asked no questions other than if he could do anything for her, so as soon as he left she rolled onto her side to watch the shadows grow longer, forgetting who she was or how she had gotten to this strange and foreign place at all. 

As the hours passed the shadows moved and desert sunbeams shielded her from life outside the windows: from the beggars on the street, from her own fear of giving into her past, from the people she loved most, and even from Violette, who she knew would never forget seeing her in such a broken state. She hid away until weeks became months and the vast majority of her hours were spent sleeping, or flitting between bouts of sleep as she spiraled deeper into a hole that she had never intended on falling into at all.

Josephine woke to the sound of the front door of the cabin; from one glance at the sunbeams she knew it was somewhere near sunset. That sound meant that she needed to open her eyes, that Zelda could soon appear at the door, her voice soft as she offered pleasant platitudes and flitted hands in an attempt to lift her spirits. But the approaching footsteps were too heavy for that, which meant that she would either have to rouse herself to look up at her brother, making some excuse to come to their cabin but clearly just there to check on her, or even worse, Giorgio. 

When she had first taken to bed he had spent nearly every spare second with her. He had even carried the radio into the room, attempting to play it and tell her stories before besieging her to come outside, or bringing an endless bounty of flowers picked from the desert sands. But more and more regularly, his footsteps would go straight to the kitchen to pour a cup of moonshine. That day, she hoped it would be the latter.

Instead the steps grew closer and the door opened, revealing Giorgio’s dirt stained face. Jo stared at him for a moment, wondering if the lines she could see now had always been there, or if they had grown more drawn in the desert air. She did know that the stubble was new, and it made him seem like a different man. It matched the overalls and ripped pants he always wore now, so different from the fedoras and pinstripes she had once associated with him. 

He looked like a stranger, the same way that the room often spun and distorted until she no longer recognized it. Then the sun would sink below the red rocks and the shadows disappeared, suddenly throwing the entire space into darkness and she could truly forget who she was, who this bearded stranger who now slept on the couch and avoided her presence could possibly be.  

Giorgio opened his mouth to speak and a look of guilt stricken agony crossed his face. Josephine met his eyes numbly, bracing herself for what seemed like remorseful admittance. Then he seemingly thought better of it and turned around, closing the door and retreating back down the hallway as he realized that the moonshine was the better option after all.

[whumpsoda]

I ALMOST FELL ASLEEP BUT RAN TO YOUR BLOG TO SHARE THE IDEA THAT CAME TO ME

malak breaking one night in early captivity and having a panic attack or overall just a mental breakdown alone after a day full of conditioning. malak doesn’t trust ad not to hurt him, and he’s just so deeply terrified for days straight.

here’s the thing tho, adrastus comes in and rubs his back, whispering reassurances as malak hyperventilates and subtly charming him into a calmer state. cause like, ad loves malak and they had just spent all day trying to break his will, why not genuinely soothe the poor guy without trying to mold him for five minutes?

anyways the visuals of a pinprick figure rubbing someone’s back whispering “you’re alright love” >>

WOHEO Masterlist

This takes place about a couple days over a week of being with Ad :)

cw: brainwashing/conditioning, captivity, vampire whumper, intimate/care whumper

———————————————————————

Was the room spinning?

Or was it just him?

Malak gripped the flesh of his face with trembling fists, flesh growing moist from eyes pricking with tears. His teeth ground and creaked over one another as his jaw contorted in a strained frown, his lip quivering from fast, shaky breaths. He whimpered roughly, holding back rich sobs with intense effort.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what his master was doing to him, what they wanted from him, or why his brain was so sourly dizzy and disconnected. 

He didn’t understand them. Did his brain understand anything anymore? Malak hated the thought of them already rendering his mind useless, melted to mush. From the constant brainwashing they susceptead him to though, such a future seemed horrifyingly near.

He choked back a strangled cry, breath hitching from the depths of his chest as he let slip a horrid, tangled moan. 

Adrastus had been messing with Malak all day. All week, for that matter. Conditioning him bit by bit, minute by minute, working to twist his defenseless concious to that of a mindless pet. 

Finally he relented, allowing the waterworks to flow.

Was he going to throw up? His stomach churned as he cried, shriveling up around his guts and making him gag. Nausea gripped his head, the aftertaste that seemingly came with constantly having to fight off the dreaded dominant clutch of vampiric hypnosis.

He just wanted to go home. He wanted his bedroom, not the one he’d been left in, with the vampires old and peeling furniture that burned his gaze. He wanted his plants, his desk and chair, his stuffed animal collection. Most of all, Malak yearned for his own bed. The one they supplied him, the one closer to a dog bed than a mattress, made him sick with disgust in terms of his strip of dignity.

Maybe…

Maybe a feeding would make him feel better. Maybe that would help. His head was always so foggy with pleasant bubbles and fuzzy wool during and after, leaving him in a cloudy daze with the biggest beaming smile. They’d whisper sweet nothings into his ears, petting him kindly while he floated through a dream-like state. He would like that. 

Wouldn’t he? 

His master liked it, he knew that. They told him he liked it. Did they make him think so? That he enjoyed it? Did he think he did, by their own accord? Did he like any of it, the captivity, the title, the sweet gifts and touches? 

Would they hurt him if he didn’t?

His throat was ripped apart by the sound of a guttural, raw wail that pounded in his melted head. Fists clenched over his tightly wound eyelids as he melted to a sobbing puddle, hiccups tightly fit between wretched whines and whimpers.

Even with such a large frame Malak retreated further into the cramped crevice that was the corner he stuck himself in, back pressed crudely up to the wall and knees knocked against his chest. 

“Oh, hello, love.” 

He hesitated, peaking his eyelids open a smidge.

A hand. In his face. Reaching toward him, slowly and cautiously, outstretched to touch him. Who was he to know if they are there to pet or to hurt him? “Love, why are you crying?”

His master. His master. He couldn’t recall when he’d begun to think of them as such. When they had first bent his mind to their will, putting him in such a degrading position. 

His master.

Malak tried to protest their touch, feebly shaking away from them, and instead of words he only managed a pitiful gurgling noise. He couldn’t tell if he meant to make such a sound or to speak words, his brain still slipping under an even heavier fog with Adrastus by his side.

“I suppose I must’ve overworked that little mind of yours, didn’t I?” They mumbled, but speaking with a tone sweet and light. Uncharacteristically so. Gentle, with a kind smile and compassionate eyes to accompany. “My apologies, dear.”

“Nngh! Nn… no…” he whined, words slurred and cracked as he wrenched his head away from their fingertips.

The attempt proved futile with him quite literally backed into a corner, stuck cramped between elegant antique dressers, proving it easy for their hands to continue their way intertwining between curls. “It’s alright, sweet. You’re alright.”

He jerked his sore, heavy head to hit the wall behind him, much lighter than he had meant to with his muscles so hard to control. “Nooo… noooo…!”

“Shh… I’m not going to hurt you, remember? There’s no need to be afraid of Master.”

Right. Right. That’s what they told him, what they beat into the walls of his mind for whoever long he’d been with them. He couldn’t remember anymore. So why didn’t it feel right? Why did his still chest tense up every dusk he awoke in the bed seated upon the floor beside them? 

“Goodness, I’m so sorry I’ve been so harsh on your adorable little head.” Their palm slipped over his cheek, sending his jaw falling slack. “Everything’s okay, love, it’s alright. I’ll be gentle, see? No more conditioning for tonight, okay? You’ve done so very well for me… you deserve a nice break.”

They gestured their way. “C’mere, baby.”

He groaned again in protest, before Adrastus grabbed his wrist and gently tugged him out of his corner. Unable to refuse, he let them pull him to their side.

With a voice low and deep, the vampire began soothing him as he pathetically whimpered and sniveled. “You’re okay, love. Everything is okay. You’re safe, and you’re loved, and you’re cared for by your master.” Swiftly subduing him, they pressed both palms to Malak’s supple back, whispering directly to his open ear.

“You trust Master right?” No. No he didn’t. But… “You trust Master. Master loves you. They would never hurt you, you believe me… don’t you?”

Did he? Their words were flipping about in his mind, creeping into each crack and crevice, starting to make sense. Starting to convince him they were right. That their words were true and genuine from the heart. The confusion was settling to acceptance, Malak providing the faintest of a nod as they spoke.

“Wonderful, just wonderful. You’re such a good boy, Malak. Master is so lucky to have you.” A pleasant sensation stirred in his mind, warmth spreading into the start of a smile. Lucky? They were luck to have him? No one had ever told him that before.

Their fingers stroked up and down his spine, nails ever so slightly tickling his skin, an action that served for the slightest of a gasp from his lips and the tiniest wriggle of his abdomen. Adrastus huffed a light chuckle.

“See, dear? Isn’t this nice? This is what Master wants. For you to feel all those little cotton candy clouds that dance around your head. For you to feel such a magical way all the time. Wouldn’t that be just magnificent?”

He groaned a yes, easy to agree with whatever incoherent words licked his ears. Adrastus trailed their fingers from his back around to his forehead, pressing their fingers to his tender temples and beginning mind melting circular motions. 

They were still speaking. Weren’t they? Malak’s vision and hearing turned blurry, fuzzing as an overwhelming sense of calm overtook him. A sense he eagerly gave in to.

It okay to give in then. To let go. He’d learned. It was going to happen wether he liked it or not, and he didn’t mind. His master only wanted what was best. They were helping him, not hurting.

He needed them.

“It’s okay, It’s okay. Everything is okay. Master will take care of you. You can relax.”

He sighed a deep breath of relief. Relax. He could relax. For the first time in forever, Malak could relax.

Ever so carefully, as their nimble fingertips continued their movement around and around his temples, Malak slumped onto his back, head resting in the vampire’s lap. With full lips parted and eyelids fluttering to a close, Adrastus continued their methods of relaxation until his body was like putty sloshing about in their hands.

“Goodnight, sweet. Master loves you.”

They leaned down, right above his drifting off frame.

“And you love Master.”

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[thekeeperofdreams]

Once Upon A Dream

genre; light angst (death mentions??? blood but not the whole focus)

summary; entering a world seemingly suspended in time is a strange experience, especially when most others are uninterested in helping you adjust. the only comfort is the man in your dreams.

ever since joining the manor, it felt like you'd been watched. not in the usual sense of other survivors or even hunters staring holes into your back, curiosity practically spilling from their eyes. it didn't help how not even your time period was similar to theirs, lining up more to lucky guys then anything.

maybe that's why the eyes follow, a desire to rip you open and peer inside; desperate for something new in a world of bloodshed and fear. it was strange, among everyone's special abilities, you'd arrived with nothing. no weapons, no traits like theirs, practically useless compared to many residing on your side of the manor.

some had no desire to chat with you, put off by this strange revelation; finding conversations a waste when surviving was the name of the game. it didn't matter much to you, having stayed in your corner anyhow, only interacting with the few people who had been nice enough to at least say hi or introduce themselves.

during matches, it was like a nightmare, most hunters chasing you first in favor of even the weakest survivors. you had nothing to defend yourself with, practically at their mercy if you failed to kite using only the windows and pallets.

many were kind, some offering to wait at least 60 seconds before carrying you to the chair without any real chase, not interested in spilling the blood of the helpless.

most however, seemed uncomfortably excited about the prospect of the new survivor having nothing to defend themselves, like a sheep straying away from its flock.

even now, as you lay bleeding on the floor, no one comes to the rescue, the hunter deciding to chase down a new target, leaving you to take your last breathe of the match; the scent of marigolds comforting you in the dying moment.

its quiet when this happens, your tired bloody body floating in darkness, awaiting your prince of the night.

hes tall, skin hidden beneath layers of makeup, the colors mixing into beautiful flowers against his skin. the hat is titled forward, hiding his eyes under the colorful flowers.

you give a weak grin when he tilts the hat to see you, eyebrow raised, eyes burning with question.

"I'm sorry. i couldn't hold on against him." you say, heart sinking when his eyebrow twitches, though its not for you.

"don't be, mi vida. i've seen him and his behavior, like a beast preying on its next meal." his tone is harsh, his deep gruff voice sending shivers down your spine.

the nickname was familiar, a comfort from the overall disconnect with your home. he always seemed to know what to say in your times of need; sinking in the sand, wishing it'd swallow you whole.

he only smiles, the overall darkness beginning to shift when he let's out a breath, green swirls and purple stars dancing at his finger tips. his hands are cold when he places them on your face, eyes remaining warm.

"ill see you soon." he coos, as your eyes grow heavy and tired, his cool touch being replaced by warm blankets and sheets; the room dark with a candle as it's light.

a soft knock wakes you from the pleasant encounter, a maid calling out that you have a match soon; lunch being served at the table beforehand.

you don't respond, waiting for the women's footsteps to dissapear before dressing, ignoring the ache deep in your bones.

the hallways are long and uncomfortable, the odd silence unnerving as you make your way to the door, shakily pushing it open.

though the sight that greets you is strange, a man dressed in purple and black, a familiar hat settled in front of him as he gobbles down what supposedly was lunch.

he turns when the door creaks, a cheeky grin slowly spreading against his face when you realize who exactly he is.

"I told you I'd see you soon"

[omikamiis]

MARCH 02 : warming up

“What the actual fuck.” Was March’s eyes deceiving him, in the middle of winter, what the actual hell was the farmer doing soaked from head to toe. He had only noticed them since there was work needed to be done by the forge. gripping the bridge of his nose and letting out a massive sigh, god, he swore that Sumi was going to be the death of him one day. 

“Alright, let’s hear it, did you really think ice fishing was your calling or something?” while sumi could only laugh in retort, despite shivering and only managing to stay warm by the fire. clothes seemingly cling to their body, almost virtually useless while soaked and the never ending frozen breeze was unrelenting. truly a spectacular sight. “Welll I thought I had seen an artifact in the lake, but turns out it was just a piece of wood… W-Wha are you actually laughing at me!?” taken aback that March was so blazen and open about his emotions, if it weren’t for the fact they were soaked from head to toe Sumi would actually fight back but any sort of moment only welcomed a new freezing breeze. “Duh! Only you would be stupid enough to try that in the dead of winter. Why are you standing out here still, you could’ve gone to the inn, the bathhouse, or even quite literally fucking anywhere.” arms crossed as he watched them shiver, while March didn’t love the idea of Sumi potentially getting sick this sight was even too much for him to sit idly! a smile cannot help but adorn his features, what was he going to do with them! 

“Oh… why didn’t I go to the inn…?” Sumi’s head turns in confusion, eyes devoid of any sort of logic nor reason. A hand makes contact with March’s forehead, how spacey could you get? “You’re. a. fucking. idiot.” Is all he says in between laughter, despite laughing his ass off quite frankly he’s already dragging them to the bathhouse. the door swings open, startling both Juniper & Dozy who were enjoying the coziness of the warmth of the bathouse’s atmosphere. “Are you just devoid of any sort of decorum Marc- Sumi why on earth are you soaking wet.” Juniper getting up from her chair, eyes squinting at their shivering form. “This genius thought it was a greaaat idea to take a swim in the middle of winter, all for, what was it a stick?” His teasing sticks a jab right through their heart, Sumi’s face is a crimson red from both the cold and complete & utter embarrassment. “Gahhh I get it March!! Will you cut it out, I swear I’m going to die from shame over here!!” Hands covering her own face, Juniper watching the scene flow right in front of her. Did neither of them have any shame flirting so bluntly and openly? “Alright, get in the bath. You still have a few free visits from our arrangement, and March brings them back something dry won’t you? I’m sure Sumi here won’t have any disagreements with that.” Separating the two and pushing the farmer towards the entrance of the baths.  Right before disappearing into the baths, sumi calls over to March. “I should have some fresh clean clothes on my bed!! The comfy overalls you know the ones! Thanks a million Mar-Mar!” A goofy grin is all that march sees before they leave their sight. Only leaving both Juniper and March at the entrance. Juniper wearing a knowing smirk and grin, “Mar-Mar? You two seem awfully close don’t you?” March’s face soon engulfs in a pink hue, turning on his heel to leave the bathhouse as quickly as possible. “Shaddup Juni. I have to go get their clothes…” With a slam the door is closed, whilst Juniper all can do is sigh. When will these two idiots just confess already?

[prophetszendo]

Shift in Vampirism

Summary: after looting an abandoned manor, you find a strange scroll, which can change everything for you and Astarion.

Pairing: astarion/you (no pronouns or y/n used, can be any of you)

Word count: 4.7k

Warning: blood, and more blood, and a bit of pain. Also english is not my first language, yet this is my first ever english fanfic I've written. Feel free to point out mistakes or spelling errors or sentences that just sound weird <3

Also, about the dialogs: the software I used to tyoe this out automatically turns the first " into the downward version of it: „. It is because it uses my native language, and here this is how we write them. I didn't figure out how to turn it off and by the time I finisned the fic, manually doing it would have taken me a long time.

This fic is based on a dream I had a few weeks ago. Enjoy!

You sat on your bed as you were sorting through what you looted today. You found an empty village which had an abandoned manor, and you and your teammates didn’t waste any time searching for valuables, food and alcohol. You also picked up some miscalleneous items, of which you weren’t sure what they exactly were.

You rummaged through your bag once more, because you recalled picking up a ring too, and it was not on your bed yet. Technically its wasn’t your bed, but it was the one in the room you decided to spend the night in. All of you got to stay in a rather luxurious room, even if it seemed like noone had been here for some time. Honestly, who cares about some dust and spiderwebs, when you spent the last weeks sleeping on rocks and branches?

Your hand caught onto the ring, and you took a closer look. It was pretty, that’s for sure, but if there was more to it, like magical properties, you weren’t able to deduce.

"I will have to ask Gale about this” you murmured to yourself. It was a pretty dark red colour, which reminded you of a certain pair of red eyes. You wondered whether his room was comfortable too. Knowing him, he was hoarding the best loot he found, not necessarily willing to share with the group. You sighed, put the ring down, and started looking through the possible junk pile that was on your bed.

After seperating the edible and not so edible foods, you were left with a bunch of papers, some more jewellery and some actually useful items, such as torches and a rope, that was hopefully not too decayed.

While you really wanted to just throw away the seemingly useless papers, you knew there might be some useful information for you. Maybe about the manor, or what happened to this place, or about the tadpoles. You knew there was only a slight chance for that, but you were grabbing onto every possibility.

Letter, letter, recepie for some food, another letter, oh, a juicy letter about someone cheating... Overall not so interesting. You were starting to get disappointed, when a title caught your eye: Shift in Vampirism. Curiously, you picked it up, and nervously ran your eyes over it. You have heard about a spell with the same name, but it was very rare, only a few people knew how to cast it. But against all odds, what you were holding in your hand was a scroll of that spell. Your stomach started sinking, as you clearly read the spell, where you can take over someones vampirisim, changing it for your normal, average traits.

You and Astarion had an interesting relationship. He flirted with you nonstop (but he kinda was doing that with everyone, so you tried to not take it too seriously), he drank from you when he got hungry, but was still so cold towards you, in a sense. Not that he excluded you, or was mean to you, but you felt like there was this invisible barrier he put up around him, and no matter how hard you tried, you were always shut out.

And you tried. A lot.

You would never share this with anyone, but you fell for Astarion basically as soon as you laid eyes on him. It was such a suprise, even to you, that you nearly let yourself be killed by him. Fortunately, soon it turned out you were in the same boat. And since then, you were trying to get to know him a bit more. You never did anything that could be understood as more than friendship – well, maybe apart from the flirting back, but that seemed to be a fun little game you two play – because you weren’t sure how he would take it. Worst case scenario, he would believe you also just want to use him for your own desires, and then he would push you away completely. You simply cared for him too much for this to happen.

But maybe with this spell, he would be more free. The pressure from his shoulders would lift a little bit, and he would be able to enjoy life more.

Your hands were shaking. You still needed some ingredients for the spell to work, this magic simply couldn’t fully be captured in just a scroll.

„Of course this spell needs candles” you sighed, then chuckled a little. As you got off your bed to collect said candles, you stopped for a second. Were you really doing this? Offering to take Astarions burden without a second thought? Wow, you must be charmed by him even more than you believed.

Your room had only one suitable candle, the others were mostly all used up, so you decides to look around once more, hoping that the the others didn’t cause such a big mess, that you wouldn’t be able to find a few more candles.

You were able to find just enough. You were also glad you didn’t bump into anyone during your adventure, and you didnt have to come up with a lie on why are you running around with an armful of candles.

You didn’t want to share the truth, because you were certain, the others would advise against it, maybe even actively try to stop you. They didn’t have the best opinion on vampires, and they were barely used to Astarion being one, and they always kept an eye on him, as if he would bite through their throats, given the right time. While he did joke about it, you knew he was secretly glad, he had some nice (or as he would say: „bearable”) company on this hard road to Baldur’s Gate.

But you couldn’t care whether the others will now eye you similarly or not. If it meant that Astarion would be free of his hunger, you gladly took all his spawn traits.

You dumped the candles on your bed, picked up the scroll and gathered the courage to show it to Astarion.

His room was a bit further away, but when you spotted the door, you were sure he choose that one. It was the most detailed out of the ones you saw while looting. „It must’ve been the master bedroom” you thought to yourself as you raised you hand to knock on the door. You still hesitated. The weight of what you held in your hand was starting to dawn on you.

„Come in, dont’t be shy” you heard his voice from the inside, before you could actually knock.

When you opened the door, you were greeted a room that was bigger than your home back in Baldur’s Gate. Astarion was standing in front of the fireplace, looking at the painting above it.

„You know them?” you asked, trying to sound casual. He was beautiful, no matter what he did. As if he was radiating some magic, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His hair looked silver in this light, and his eyes were focused on the family that was painted.

„Of course not! But looking at a painting is a better passtime, than doing nothing, or getting dirty in this dusty place.” he said, as he shifted his gaze to you. As your eyes locked, a shiver was sent down your spine, and for a split second, you forgot why you were there in the first place.

But you quickly collected yourself and witgout saying a word, you raised your hand towards him and offered him the scroll.

„What is this dear? Some juicy letters between the past owner and some lover?” he asked excitiedly. But you remained silent and just looked at him. You weren’t sure how you woukd even describe it. As he saw your seriousness, he went quiet too, and took the scroll.

„Just read it” you said, as he turned it around in his hand, seemingly unsure what to look for.

His brows furrowed as his eyes were going faster and faster over the lines. His concerned face made you worried.

„Is this a joke? I never thought you to be this cruel with me” he said to you, looking up from the paper. „If there actually was a spell like this, I would’ve heard about it, at least rumors.”

„It is a rare spell, I believed it was a legend, because a friend of a friend once saw it in action a long time ago. But this is a real thing.” you reassured him. His eyes lit up, as he took another look onto the scroll. You saw a glimpe of hope, but it was quickly replaced by something you weren’t sure about.

And then he started laughing.

„This is still cruel. This spell clearly exists to give false hope to people like me! Because who would even be so crazy to wish this up on themselves?” he asked and he held the scroll with two hands, with the intent of tearing the scroll with you.

„I would” you said firmly, trying to look into his eyes, looking for that little hope again.

He raised his gaze, and held eyecontact with you.

„Why?” he asked silently. You saw that he was truly confused. „Why would you want to go through these horrible stuff? Are you mad?”

„I’m not mad. I just want to...” but you couldn’t finish your sentence, because Astarion interrupted you.

„A favour? My life? You want to be able to hold control over me by taking over this burden I carry? Well thank you but no thank you! I would rather stay how I am if it means I am free from any puppet lines that make me do anything the puppeteer wants to!” he raised his voice.

„Astarion, I promise, I don’t...”

„You don’t want to control me? Of course, everyone would say that. But you? I thought you to be kinder than this. Especially after all those adventures, and everything I’ve ever told you about Cazador and my life in Baldur’s Gate! I thought of all people, you would be the one who would not even think about these stuff! Or was being understanding also part of the act?” he yelled by the end of the sentence.

Tears gathered in your eyes. You rarely if ever saw him this angry, and it hurt you so much. The barrier between you has never been so thick, so impenetrable.

„Please Astarion, hear me out...” you said, but your voice cracked as you said his name. However, Astarion was way too in his head to hear, or even see you.

„And what would you even say? Please trust me? Noone would take over my vampirism willingly, for nothing in return. And i don’t want to be in anyones debt! Feeding from you, it is already on a thin line, but it is something we both seem to enjoy. But this? You wouldn’t enjoy this” and he would have kept saying more and more harmful stuff, if you didn’t interrupt him. Once more.

„ASTARION” you also raised your voice. „I would do it because I care for you! I would do ir because... Because...”

„Because?”

„Because I love you” you closed your eyes. You couldn’t bear seeing his reaction. He most likely didn’t love, or even like you back. You weren’t even sure why you said it now. You planned to take this secret to your grave.

„And I care for you” you continued, as if trying to still explain yourself. „And you suffer so much already, and being a vampire seemingly makes it worse. Day by day, you put on the act of being a carefree man, but I feel like you have so many thoughts, fears you never even admit to yourself. If I could ease this pain by taking away something that is holding you back the most, maybe... Maybe you could live a better life. Maybe you would be able to heal from what happened to you.”

Your eyes were still closed. You waited for his reaction, but he was silent. A few painfully long seconds passed and then you heard his footsteps. You were afraid, they were moving away.

But then you felt his hands on both sides of your face. His thumb was caressing your cheek. He wiped a tear away. You didn’t even realize, that you started crying.

„Darling. Open your eyes.”

You slowly peeled your eyelids open. At first, you were looking down, somewhere at his chest. You felt embarassed. Confessing love was not your strong suit, as you have never done this before. Of course you had crushes here and there, maybe even a fling or two, but this overwhelming urge to be with someone, like you feel with Astarion, this was raw, honest, and heavy.

Astarion put his right hand under your chin, lifting your head to properly face him.

His eyes were like rubies, as he deeply looked into yours. There was no mockery in them, yet you still felt like you have to explain more. You tugged on his tadpole, and invited him into your mind.

You started sharing memories.

The first time you saw him, and how forgot to breathe for a second. Then he started speaking, asking for help, only to hold a knife to your throat later. Yet held no grudges against him. You now knew how confused he must have felt, and how vulnerable.

The night he first drank for you. Especially how scared he looked when you woke up. You were not repulsed by vampires, they didn’t choose to be turned into a spawn. You offered your blood, wanting nothing in return. The way he seemed more relaxed, more vibrant, more... alive after feeding, was enough for you.

That one time you thought he would die. It was an unfortunate ambush on you and the team. Astarion, as usual, was lurking in the shadows, but a rouge spell hit him square in the chest, and if Shadowheart wasn’t that good of a healer, he might not be here right now. Your heart ached as you held his hand, hoping his beautiful eyes would open once more. You screamed and cried your eyes out, trying to wake him up. And when he did, you gave him the first real hug that ever happened between you.

You looked away. These were some of your most sacred memories. You felt vulnerable.

„I... You don’t have to like me back. Just seeing you happy and free makes my life fuller. This is why i want to take your burden” you said quietly to him.

There was a second of silence again. They started to feel like you were cut with a knife. Painful anticipation.

„I don’t have to like you back?” Astarion said in a low voice, then chuckles a little. „It might be too late for that...”

You felt a familiar tug on your tadpole, as he was inviting you into his mind. You obliged.

You saw yourself through his eyes. He was taken aback by your presence. The kindess, with which you looked at him made him uneasy. He feared you would betray him the first chance you had. So he went ahead, and held a knife to your throat. And you still forgave him.

This is why he decided to drink from you. Maybe you wouldn’t be as mad as the others. And then you looked at him, and still wasn’t angry, and offered a drink. He felt something that could best be described as butterflies in his stomach. If his heart was beating, it wouldve bursted out fo his chest, he was sure.

And when he was hit by the spell, the only reason he held on was because he heard you. Felt your hand on his.

„This is why I can’t let you take this over” he again, turned your face towards his. „Because, I too, care about you deeply. And you don’t deserve to go though any of this. Especially what happens after we remove the tadpoles.”

„You suffered from it for two-hundred years. You deserve to rest now. And if you’re so adamant, you can search for one of those mages, who can perform this spell. Then you can take it back, if you want to” you said, now with a stronger voice. You knew just how rare the spell was, and doubted he would ever find anyone able to cast it. You were content with this.

„You would really do this... For me?” he asked gently, still unsure.

You nodded, allowing yourself to have a little smile too.

Then you felt his lips on yours. It took you by suprise. You didn’t even have to process that the feelings were mutual, and now he was kissing you.

After the initial suprise, you didn’t hesitate to kiss back. His lips were suprisingly soft and warm, and you wanted this moment to never end. You opened your mouth, allowing him to kiss you deeper. Astarion immediately understood your desire, and made his way towards your tongue. You felt his sharp fangs on your lips, but they felt exciting, if anything. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, hugging him closer than you ever did.

„Gods, how long I wanted to do this” he said, as he pulled back a little. You were lost for words. You still felt his mouth on yours, and you yearned for more.

But there was something more important that needed to happen, before you could properly explore your feelings towards eachother.

You slowly unwrapped yourself from him and picked up the scroll, which made its way on the floor sometime before.

„So, do you want to do this?” you asked, still short of breath. You handed him the scroll one more time. He took it, a briefly went over it.

„I can’t believe im saying this” he shook his head. „But yes. Let’s do this. And after it, I will track down all the scrolls and mages.”

As the sentences left his mouth, he already seemed to feel the pressure lifting. His shoulders seemed less tense and his forehead turned smooth.

You smiled at him shyly.

You went back to your room to collect the ingredients you needed. Your pouch had all the small ones, and you scooped up the candles you collected before.

You were excitied like a kid, which came to you as a suprise. You expected yourself to be scared of the ritual, especially knowing the details of the spell. But all you saw with your mind’s eye is Astarion, laughing carefreely.

„And with this” you stepped into Astarions room „we can finally start the preparations.”

He looked at you, and took a few of the candles off of you. Well, like four of them.

You laughed at him playfully, and he shot you a „i fucking dare you” look, which suited him just perfectly.

You set up the candles how it was desdribec on the scroll.

„Now we just need to mix the remaining ingredients with my blood, and paint up the Shifting Circle” you read through the instructions. You picked up your dagger and a bowl, and started investigating your arm.

„Darling, let me” Astarion took your arm and dagger. „As a vampire, I will have a much easier time finding the right place.”

„For now.” you murmured.

„Pardon?” he looked at you, pulling away a little.

„You won’t be a vampire for much longer.”

He laughed.

„You’re right, darling.”

He made a small cut on your arm. It was barely noticable, if not for the blood that was dripping down into a designated bowl. After the needed amount, Astarion patched you up, and put a bandage on your arm. He has never been so caring with you before.

You mixed together the dry and wet ingredients, and used it to paint up the shifting circle. It had two smaller circles incorporated: one Astarion, the giver, and one for you, the reciever.

You stood there, admiring your work. It wasnt perfect, but it should do it. It will do it – you thought to yourself.

„Lastly, I would need some rats” you said, and started to look for them. You heard them before, hopefully they haven’t fled yet.

„Rats? Why?” asked Astarion suprised.

„I will need it, because after I change, I will crave blood and if that hunger is left untreated, I might go feral” you explained. You weren’t keen on rats, but they seemed like the best option.

„Oh that won’t do” said Astarion, shaking his head. He came over to you and grabbed your clean hand. „You’re making such a sacrifice for me, the least I can do is offer my blood in return.”

You gulped. The thought of you drinking from Astarion the same way he drank from you sounded very intimate. You had to admit, it was to your liking.

„Thank you” you nodded. You were very touched by his offer. After what he went through, he still offered himself for a future vampire.

You sat in your circle and Astarion sat in his. He put his hands on the line, touching the mixture, as the spell instructed. You already lit all the candles that were neatly next to the lines, all around you. You opened up the scroll, but before reading it out loud, you looked at Astarion one more time. He gave you an encouraging half smile.

„O ipwuli vji nehod vu tipf vji wenqosi vseovt vu ni simoiwoph jon gsun jot cysfip!”

With every word, you felt a strange buzzing in the room. Magic was happening, and it did so all around you. At first, nothing happened. You were starting to get discouraged, the thought of the scroll being a fake bubbled up in your mind.

But then, suddenly the candle lights grew downwards, and all touched the big circle. Fire spread towards you and Astarion too. It was fast, too fast for any of you to react, and in no time, it reached the small circles.

In that moment, your bones, your skin, your blood also turned into fire. Pain shot from everywhere. It started burning you up, or at least it felt like that. You started screaming, and fell on the floor. You grabbed onto your arms, trying to get rid of the feeling.

Just next second, Astarion cried out too, but you weren’t sure if it was because he also was in pain, or because he saw you in such agony. You just hoped that he would remember to not stop touching the now burning mixture, as it was the connection between him and you.

You couldn’t wonder further, and a striking pain hit your mouth, specifically your teeth. You quickly moved your hands to it, half expecting them to simply fall out. You felt your canine teeth grow long and sharp. Just like the ones Astarion has. Had.

Suddenly nausea took you over. The dinner which you happily had before checking your loot, quickly made its way out of your stomach, as it was no longer suitable you. You were trembling, you felt that with this, you had nothing left, that was human.

The burning pain started to lessen. Your skin felt cold, your bones felt light. Your head was spinning, as you gathered yourself into a sitting position.

And then the hunger hit. The most primal hunger you have ever felt. As if you have not eaten for weeks. Your hunger was strong, and you wanted, no, you needed to feed. To feed on blood.

A strong, appetizing scent hit you. Before you realized what it was, your body started moving on its own. You basically crawled towards Astarion, who seemingly also had his fair share of the ritual, because he was lying on the floor, quickly breathing.

You crawled over him, and without a second thought, you bit him, and started drinking his blood. It tasted heavenly, like ambrosia. After the first drop on your tongue, you lost yourself even more. You ate, fed, as if you had never actually eaten before. You drank as if you just walked trough the driest desert.

He squirmed under you. Instinctively, you tried holding him down. More, more, MORE! The hunger can never be saited, you felt that. But temporarily, you just need more of his blood. More of his delicious, rich, glorious blood. More of... Astarions blood.

As this thought went through your head, you froze in place. Your animalistic instincts evaporated, you were yourself again. You slowly pulled away from Astarions neck. You feared the worst, as you looked down on him. He was not fighting back, just laid there, head turned to the side , for you to have better acces to him.

His movements were only to help you, not to shake you off.

Tears formed in your eyes. You knew that after the transformation, you would need to feed. You wanted to gently ask Astarion to bite his wrist, letting him dictate how much of him he gave to you. You didn’t plan for you losing control as soon as you turned.

Astarion turned his head towards you. His formally scarlet eyes were now a silverish blue. They looked breathtaking.

„I’m...” you started saying, but your words drowned in sobs. Blood was still dripping from his wounds.

„Hey. Shhhh. I’m alive” Astarion slowly sat up, and he wrapped his arms around you.

It felt like years of supressed stress and held back emotions just flowed out of you, like a tap, that hasn’t been opened in years. You clinged on him, and cried harder than you ever did. Transforming really took a toll on you, emotionally and mentally. The last drop was Astarion holding you gently but tightly. An act you only dreamt about before. Something you only imagined, a longing that kept you going in the hardest times.

Now, it was real. And you were absolutely overwhelmed by everything.

He held you until you calmed down. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. His gestures were telling enough for you.

„Your heart is not beating anymore” said Astarion, with a sharp sadness in his voice. You put your hand on your chest. He was right, you also felt no beating. It was unusual.

You put your hands on his chest. Under your palm, his heart was going wild and alive. You looked at him in detail. His eyes were the most striking change, but you noticed other parts too, that just made him look more... Alive. His cheeks gained some blush, he was not pale as a ghost anymore. His face looked more relaxed, more playful and youthful. He looked stronger, like someone who can handle everything.

He looked more beautiful, than ever.

„And your heart is about to jump out of your chest” you said, smiling for the first time since the ritual. You felt your fangs emerge from behind your lips. You quickly hid it behind your hand, as if it was something to hide.

Astarion clearly thought otherwise, because he smiled back at you, and carefully moved your hands down.

„Don’t hide them darling. They are nothing to hide. You thought me this. And trust me, you’re still beautiful. The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

His words caressed you. You allowed yourself to smile once more.

„Thank you” Astarion said with an honest voice. „I haven’t felt like this for... 200 years. And while I will search all corners of the world for the wizard, or any other cure, I can’t form the right words to properly say just how thankful I am for your actions. You’re the kindest soul anyone can ever meet. Most people would’ve stabbed me the first chance they had. Having someone like you by my side makes me feel... Safe. And I haven’t felt like thaf for a long time. And on top of that, we both seem to have fallen for eachother, which is just perfect. And I truly mean it.”

He looked into your eyes deeply before planting a sweet and hot kiss on your lips.

You stayed like that for a while.

Astarion, the not-so-pale elf, and you, the new vampire.

[foryoupeko]

Opinions and Headcanons on Kazukoi (Kazuichi x Mahiru)?

This post made the gears whirling for me.

Overall I don't think it's a couple meant to last. Little Mahiru analysis here that has no base. BTW, if it's not about Fuyuhiko or Peko, take this with a grain of salt.

I think Mahiru loves strong capable women, thus her crush on Sato and Peko. But she also likes being relied on, thus her friendship with Hiyoko. So while Kazuichi isn't intially her type, she can't help but worry about this seemingly incompetent manchild. But she learns Kazuichi isn't useless. He's actually really smart when he's interested in it. And unlike Hiyoko, Kazuichi isn't content with relying on Mahiru for everything. He tries to better himself and he wants to help Mahiru all he can. So while Kazuichi isn't Mahiru's ideal type of man, he's sweet in his own way.

Disclaimer: I do believe in Mahiru Lesbian Superiority. But I also think Kazuichi is everywhere on the gender spectrum.

[brucewaynehater101]

Hi! I'm the same person as the Fucked up Batfam ask. I really like your idea for robin angst, poor Damian already feels guilty enough for having attacked Tim in the past after they fix things 😭😭 I would love to hear your ideas on F!Barbara and F!Steph (I'm still working my way through the canon so I didn't have any ideas for either of them). No pressure though! Thanks for answering I think the community you've created is great for fandom (sharing and building on each other's ideas)😊😊

Hello again 👋 Thank you!!!!!!!

Hmmm... For F!Barbara, it depends on how you mess around with canon. Personally, I hate erasing her growth and path as Oracle. Magically healing her after all of that is distasteful and ableist (in my opinion). Oracle is such a badass, extremely competent, and terrifying. She doesn't need to fit able-bodied standards to completely decimate her enemies.

So, my idea of a F!Barbara is one who chose to become villainous on her inital path to becoming Oracle. She's paralyzed and struggling with these changes, but she's learning about how much she can still fuck up other people's days. In this AU, her Bruce basically wrote her off. He barely tolerated her as Batgirl and deemed her useless to his crime fighting business after he learned of her medical status (this Bruce is entirely focused on the "mission" and lacks ability to care outside of it). Maybe he threw money at her to pay for the medical bills, but overall left her alone to recover (idk where Dick is in this).

Barbara, maybe after hearing another ableist comment directed at her by Bruce and other folks, gets tired of being written off. She's also so fucking sick of all the injustice that her Bruce doesn't fight (violence against minorities [women, LGBT, POC, certain religions], disportionate wealth, corruption, etc). She starts out as a hidden force online that not even Batman knows about.

Then she gets captured by some hero and of course Batman doesn't save her. Scorned from how heroes fail her and others, seemingly only helping those from certain groups, she vows to hold all of them accountable. No hero in any country can operate without her thorough approval, or she incapacitates them.

For F!Steph, I am so so sorry. I am going to cause her so much pain, and obviously she doesn't deserve any of it (nor do any of the other characters, but rip Steph).

Okay! So, Bruce already treated her poorly in canon when she was Robin. Ramp that up quite a bit for this AU, make the rest of the Bats shitty to her as well, and Tim and Steph never end up dating. Steph does end up pregnant when she's Spoiler, but she decides to keep her kid in this AU. Only Bruce and her mom know about it. Steph then has to step up and everything that happened during her final days as Robin happened to her.

Eventually, she returns to Gotham, where she finds out that Bruce had gotten her kid killed (either through negligence or intention, dealer's choice). After dying for Bruce and him causing her kid to be killed (and the shitty ways the Bats treated her), Steph says "fuck it." She works her way steadily through all of Gotham's gangs and mafias until she becomes the leader of Black Mask's rival gang. She then takes him out and absorbs his empire. She is untouchable in the world of crime in Gotham, and Bruce can't prove a damn thing. She has her fingers in all of GCPD, the courts, the politicians, etc. She practically owns Gotham now, and she uses that to get revenge on Bruce.

Hopefully, those are good F!Bats for Steph and Barbara ^^

[rin-and-jade]

Pulling Strings in your Veins: A Post on Switch-Induced Effects

'So, you're telling me switches can have unexpected effects beyond their intended purpose? Why would there be effects to the physical body when it is just some mechanism??'

Well, yeah i am! And it seems to happen to a portion of us despite not knowing why. It does sound confusing, like how we often view the appendix as a seemingly useless organ, but.. did you know that the appendix actually serves as a safe place for good gut bacteria during infections? Then, maybe we can start to think that these effects are not meaningless/random and have another mechanism/reason behind it?

What the Jerk?!

For those who don't know, jerk/twitches can be defined in this quote:

"A muscle twitch is a short contraction that sometimes occurs repeatedly − think eye twitching. Such movement can be uncomfortable and inconvenient, but it isn't usually painful." From USA Today

In general means, twitches can happen from nutrient deficiencies/dehydration (some minerals helps muscle contract and loosen), not getting enough rest, stress, too much coffee, or due to neurological conditions. It also can vary from being subtle like a nudge, to strong as in it can be visually observed too!

When these contractions became painful, they're called spasm/cramps and are caused by the same reasons above, added with overexertion or after having a strenuous activity. Overall, it is still wise to make sure you ate adequate meals, stay hydrated, and rest enough to minimize the effects whenever it comes by, alright?

OKAY.. but, this doesn't explain the whole ordeal we have as systems, so did we hit a dead end? Not really, i have some actual answers going on here after some many reading and sense-making;

What could that possibly be..

If you have heard about the Central Nervous System, you must meet it's younger brother: Peripheral Nervous System, CNS and PNS for short.

So, if CNS consists of the brain's and the spinal cord's nerves, the PNS would be every nerves and sensors outside of it--your finger tips, neck, face, legs, all of the limbs you can think of.

Now you're thinking, why mention this? Because the only bridge where neuro/psychological meets physical, is from the central to the peripheral! When CNS is where all commands and actions comes from, somewhere must be equipped to running those tasks accordingly, which is PNS's job.

Now if a switch is happening, many things are happening inside the brain as well, in chemistry and electrical-impulses wise. Apart from adjusting to the part that will be out next, it has this kind of recalibration from the CNS to be attuned to this part which could create peak brain activity, sending overexcited impulses in the initial stages,, pain also counts as the byproduct sometimes. Now this is where the the impulses are not intentional by the CNS, but caught by the PNS, which is why many physical effects happen right before, or in middle, or after the switch has been complete though it differs for everybody. (it can be as minor as shivering or eye-defocusing too)

Here's a similar condition (yet not widely used in the medical world) that you guys can learn too, dropping it here!

Okay, but why?

We now know what has been causing it, but probably that isn't satisfying enough for you as an answer? No worries, i gotcha covered!

We have been equipped with many involuntary responses when something happens, take some for an example:

Knee jolt reflex when a medical hammer is struck

Sudden retraction from painful, hot water

The coughs that comes along from an accidental choke

These things seems to happen without us needing to think of doing it manually, still with the examples as references, i will apply different reasons to why twitches happen in a switch;

When muscles are too stiff or loose, twitches can happen to reset the tone to its original state

It can be used to regulate muscle coordination to ensure movements are 'calibrated' (like how i explained before)

Could be due to adjusting to the CNS's output of energy/activity, especially if it suddenly changes

A response after being surprised by external stimuli (which could make sense because the body 'wakes up' again after the next fronter comes in)

Yes, but...

But not all experiences twitches, and instead felt weak or unbalanced or unable to coordinate movements or all that,,, how did the opposite happen?

Nobody's brain work the same way, that's the first thing you must remind yourself. This itself has a whole different involuntary response that comes with switching, which i also have the answer for;

Some switches have excitatory effects, while some have inhibitory effects depending on the person, some might even experience both kinds or just one.

If the PNS responds to any orders the CNS give, the CNS, instead of creating crowding arrays of nerve impulses, tells it to tone down everything on purpose to reduce any clashes from brain synapses or anything related to prepare for the next stage, make sense? Which then brings us to less controlled limb movements or balancing, or even sometimes affecting wakefulness.

Here are some inhibitory-related conditions, one way or another!

Takeaway

Just a simple reminder that any existing stress or conditions (mental or physical) can affect the quality of the switch, which is why it's important to take care of one's health to reduce the intensity of the physical symptoms that comes along with as well as safety measures to reduce any discomfort or harm that can happen in the process.

Sadly, i do not have a say in how to specifically help systems with any excitatory or inhibitory responses, coming from a system that has smooth transitions with little to no effects, so i want to hear how you guys experience and handle those moments! This can also be a moment where you guys share tips or tricks that can benefit others too, so i appreciate any contribution related to this topic!!

So, what do you guys think about this? let me know your thoughts alright?

- j