#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!!!

[sweetangelgirl7]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝜗𝜚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 & 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 after a fresh new start, away from your toxic past, you’re met with the boy next door — your ex boyfriend’s brother.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, unprotected, creampie, oral (male & female receiving), and more filth

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.1k!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: golden rubbers in these denim pockets 🎧 hiii loves! this fic is completely inspired by the song and mv for “she” by tyler the creator & frank ocean (without all the creepy stuff). i love this song sm, the first half of the mv is the overall vibe for this one. this may be one of my favorites, it’s definitely a little long but it’s SMUTTY, so enjoy!

squeezing through the boxes piled high in the back of the moving truck, you sifted through endless amounts of cardboard trying to find the right ones holding your things. finally getting your hands on one, you managed to pull the box, that seemingly weighed a thousand pounds, between your arms, carrying it carefully down the ramp to the street in front of the new house.

you didn’t want to move, no one ever really wants to move away from their childhood home, but it was inevitable. a fresh new start never hurt anyone, anyways. after all, it was what you desperately needed after these last few months.

you struggled to hold the oversized box between your arms, overflowing with all the useless things you still held onto. the weight of the box began to slip between your perspiring arms before you finally gave up, setting it down on the pavement. standing up straight to stretch your back after nearly pulling a muscle, you glanced down the empty street that you now called home.

the houses were lined up perfectly, all unique in their own way yet perfectly blending together. your house was at the end of the street, sitting on the right side of the cul-de-sac. looking across the way, your eyes raked over the houses circling the street as a burst of noise caused your attention to land on the one across the street, right in front of your own.

stumbling out of the front door was a group of three boys as the sound of their teasing and laughing amongst each other filled the silent street. while two of the boys made their way to the car parked in the driveway, you watched as the the other was still locking the door behind him.

finally snapping out it — not wanting to stare and make an awful first impression on your new neighbor, you attempted to pick the box back up between your arms as you lifted it from the ground.

standing up straight once more, your gaze locked onto the brunette boy across the street as he finally turned away from the door, revealing a face you knew all too well — the face that broke your heart, time and time again. the face you had hoped to leave behind, one of few the reasons you had found solace in moving away.

your heart dropped to your stomach in sync with the box crashing to the street, the sharp sound of glass shattering inside breaking the sudden silence. "fuck" you whispered under your breath, scrambling to retrieve the fallen box as your eyes dropped instantly to the ground.

“everything alright?” a voice shouted from across the street, although, it was a voice you weren’t familiar with. the other two boys were already inside of the car, waiting for the other, so you automatically attached it to the brunette.

you couldn’t gather the courage to look up, nor did you want to look up. how was this even possible? the boy you finally managed to leave weeks ago, with absolutely no contact, had somehow found you standing right before him once again. what are the odds, just your fuckin’ luck, huh?

you couldn’t speak, pretending to attend to the broken items inside of the open box as you frantically attempted to conceal your face and look busy, acting as if you didn’t hear his voice.

“need a hand?” he asked again, although his voice was nearly right in front of you now as you watched his shoes walk into your view of the pavement.

“i’m good” you mumbled, your eyes still glued to the ground as you miserably attempted to find any shred of strength left to pick the box back up. god, how pathetic you probably looked.

crouching on his knees, he reached down to pick up the box before you with ease. his arms wrapped completely around the box, you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his crewneck that hiked up his forearms.

now you were left even more confused — unless he’d hit the tattoo shop the second after you broke up, there was no possible way it was chris. was it? although, you weren’t wearing your glasses. maybe it wasn’t chris, you thought, looking for any excuse to just dismiss it as your imagination deceiving you.

“i got you, no worries” he reassured as he stood in front you still crouched down on your knees. as right now would be the perfect time to stand up — you couldn’t, you were too afraid to look him in the eyes.

“everything good down there?” he chuckled sarcastically after a moment, looking down at you as your hair fell over your face to conceal your features. you managed to let a nervous laugh roll off your lips as there was absolutely nothing else left to say or do to get out of this.

standing up, you nervously tucked your hair behind your ears as your eyes trailed up his lower half and onto the oversized box snuggled between his arms. you nearly flinched waiting for one of chris’ snarky comments but it remained silent as the air hung still

why hasn’t he said anything by now?

surely, he would have said something by now, anything.

finally gathering the courage to fully look up at his face, your eyes trailed over his features in slight relief and utter confusion as you scanned over every last detail. he looked so much like chris, yet nothing like him at all — at the same time.

your lips were cracked open in hesitation as you stumbled to find the words, looking between his eyes as he raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “what?” he chuckled again, flashing his teeth while laughing at your uncertainty as the smile lines deepened in his cheeks — he was so handsome, in different ways than chris.

“something in my teeth?” he teased, licking his tongue flat against the top row of his teeth as you shook your head through a laugh.

“no” you smiled as he had your complete undivided attention now, your gaze completely fixed on him and every little detail that created his pretty face. “you just look familiar ‘s all.” you shook your head, knowing good and well that he looked much more than just ‘familiar.’

he nodded his head, shifting the weight of the box between his arms. “i get that a lot.” he pursed his lips before hiking his knee up under the box to hold it still as he held his hand out for you. “matthew” he smiled.

matthew.

for the months you were together, chris never mentioned a matthew. neither did he mention having siblings, yet alone any who looked nearly identical to him. maybe he was just a cousin with insanely strong genes in the family. although, thinking back on it, he never really wanted to talk about his personal life at all.

“nice to meet you, mathew” you smiled after briefly introducing yourself, reciprocating the handshake with a stiff hand.

"want me to take this inside?" he asked, his grip on your hand lingering longer than any usual handshake.

𝜗𝜚

a flash of lightning briefly illuminated your room through the curtains as you found yourself sitting on the boy next door’s lap. your legs straddled matt’s as he lay beneath you, his head near the foot of your bed. leaning forward, you slowly trailed your hands up and down the fabric of the white tank covering his chest.

you finally managed to have the house to yourself, inviting him over rather than sneaking out through the window for the past couple of nights.

looking down at matt lying against your pink bedding, you trailed your fingers across his jaw as he stared up at you. you didn’t know how to feel about this whole situation and you definitely didn’t know how to bring up the thing that had been eating at you since you first met — the “thing” being chris. however, you didn’t let those thoughts linger long as matt had quickly found his way between your sheets since then.

“what’s a matter princess?” matt asked, tracing his ringed fingers over your thighs as his eyebrows furrowed, looking up at you in the dim light of your room.

shaking your head, you managed to force a smile as you brushed the messy curls away from his eyes. “nothing” you pulled the fake smile farther up your lips, lying through your teeth. “just feeling kinda down tonight.” you lied, again, as you rested your back against his knees up behind you.

sitting up on his elbows, a frown of concern tugged at matt’s face as he held his hand steady on your thigh. “wanna talk about it?” he asked before you could shake your head, that same fake smile returning to your face again.

“no, it’s okay.” you whispered as matt nodded his head. leaning forward to grab his face, you pulled him into a brief kiss to smooth over the moment.

shifting his right hand beneath your weight, he shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. slipping a golden wrapper between his fingers out from the denim, matt’s lips quipped into a smirk as he pulled away from your lips to display it between your faces.

“maybe this’ll cheer you up?” he teased as a real smile finally spread across your face, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“i guess we’ll have to find out” your smile twisted into a smirk as you gently pushed his hand away, pressing your lips into his as you both smiled against eachother.

inching back on his lap, matt fiddled with his belt buckle before tugging his jeans and boxers down with one movement. taking his cock beneath his hand, he lightly pumped himself with a closed fist, tearing the golden wrapper in the other hand between his teeth.

crawling back against the headboard, you watched as matt sat up, rolling the condom down his length, the latex rubber laminating his veiny pink cock. you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing him and chris for the past few days, in everything he did, from his sweet mannerisms, all the way down to his cock.

the feeling of matt’s touch pulled you from your thoughts as his fingers trailed up your skin. spreading your legs for you, he situated himself between your thighs as he stood on his knees. wrapping a hand around your upper thigh, he tugged at the hem of your shorts. “take these off f’me, yeah, pretty girl?” he asked gently. in this case, chris would have already ripped them off your body the second you walked into the room.

nodding your head, you obeyed with a smile and pulled the pink cheetah print shorts down your thighs. the sound of rolling thunder echoed through your room as matt watched you, his hand reaching forward to hold your jaw as he leaned forward on the other hand to press a kiss against your lips.

pumping his hand up and down his cock, he pulled away slightly to look back and forth between your eyes “ready?” he smiled against your lips as you nodded back, taking his stubbled jaw between your fingertips. a gasp rolled off your lips as matt already sunk his cock between your folds with the slightest hint of approval.

your walls swallowed his dick entirely, slowly bottoming out as he let a groan out. “lay down for me” matt groaned as you followed his instructions, sinking down from against the headboard as you lay your back down on the cool pink sheets. he hissed slightly at your change in position as his hand gripped the headboard, adjusting to the newfound tightness around his cock.

“so fuckin’ tight” he moaned through gritted teeth, starting slow as he pumped in and out, his fingers gripping down harder on the headboard with the feeling. your head rolled back on the pillows as you watched his hips crash into you, holding your weight on your elbows as you watched him.

sex with him was almost the complete opposite than with chris. while they were both fantastic in their own ways, it was different with matt. it was sweet — he was rough yet caring and gentle, making sure he’d do everything in his power to make you feel good.

pressing his hand down on your lower stomach, he began to drive his cock harder between your walls as you didn’t bother to suppress your moans anymore.

looking up at him through hooded lids, the occasional flash of lightning through the window illuminated his concentrated features. reaching forward to grab the chain laying on his chest, matt’s gaze pulled up to the window above your bed as bright headlights cut through the blinds.

“what the fuck” he groaned out, slightly narrowing his eyes as he looked through the partially open blinds, casting a shadow on his face.

“what’s wrong?” you sat up as your expression slightly dropped, the sound of thunder filling the silence as you watched him with concern. matt’s eyes were still glued on the window as he reached forward to peek through the blinds, looking out through the rain pouring down outside.

“there’s someone out there” he slightly crouched down, pulling out with a hiss as he tugged his jeans back up swiftly over his waist, adjusting the belt hanging limp between the denim loops.

your stomach churned at his words, assuming it was your dad as you sat up quickly. fumbling to pull your shorts back on, you sat up completely and dug your knees into the bed to look out the window.

reaching over to grab your glasses from the bedside table, you quickly pulled them over your eyes as you pulled the blinds back. studying the car parked in your driveway, the headlights nearly blinded you. although, you knew that car from anywhere. with the sight of your face in the window, the headlights dimmed out to reveal chris sitting in the driver’s seat followed by a conveniently timed flash of lighting.

“shit” you mumbled beneath your breath, immediately closing the blinds as your heart sunk in your chest. you didn’t know what to be more afraid of in the moment — chris sitting in front of your house or having to explain to matt, who was just inside of you seconds ago.

“shit, shit” you repeatedly groaned to yourself, folding your glasses as you tossed them back on the side table, quickly standing up from the bed.

“was that my fuckin’ brother?” matt’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and a hint of anger as he made his way towards your bedroom door.

“brother?” you shot back, your heart racing even faster now. although you weren’t surprised, what else did you expect? of course they were brothers, they shared nearly the exact same face.

“yeah, chris” he groaned out, just hearing matt say his name made you sick to your stomach. “i think he got the wrong house” he mumbled, taking the door knob between his hands before you practically jumped in front of him in attempt to stop him, trying to usher him towards your closet.

“what? no” you shouted through a whisper “i think it’s my dad” you shook your head as you slid the mirror door open, desperately trying to shove matt inside. “go” you ordered as he nodded, gently shoving him behind the hanging clothes you had lined up against the wall.

you adjusted the white tank top on your chest, pulling it down as you stumbled out of your door and into the living room. your mind raced as fast as your heart, beating a million times a minute. maybe he didn’t see you. although, knowing chris — he wasn’t gonna leave without a fight, whether he knew you were home or not. you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck he found your address? you lived on the complete opposite side of town and it had been weeks.

peeking through the stained glass window of the door, the shadow of his car was still parked in the driveway. fuck.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you sat hiding against the front door before finally pulling it open after a minute. standing in the door frame, you looked over chris sitting in his car as you could see his expression change through the rain pouring down on the windshield. wearing that stupid smirk that somehow won you over everytime, but not this time.

stepping forward under the porch, you left the light off as he jogged out of the car through the rain and under the cover of the deck.

“what the fuck, chris?” you shouted over the sound of the storm, crossing your arms beneath your chest. “i block your number and you resort to stalking?” you shouted louder, now out of anger.

“you weren’t answering my calls sweetheart” he tugged a smirk onto his lips, pulling the hood from over his head as he now crossed his own arms. you scanned over his face as a knot formed in your stomach, knowing his brother was currently hiding in your bedroom closet.

“what do you want?” you spat, hoping he would just go away as he continued to do the exact opposite. “how did you even find my address anyway?” you continued, glancing over at the light cracking through your bedroom window.

“aren’t gonna invite me in? i brought a housewarming gift?” the smirk on his lips pulled up farther as he began to step toward the front door before you could move to the side to block his way.

“no” you shouted, pressing your hands against his chest as he sarcastically raised his eyebrows in shock, glancing down at your arms.

“is that anyway to talk to a guest?” he teased, acting surprised, as he grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms down before he continued to make his way inside.

rolling your eyes, you tried to act quickly, trying your hardest to stop him from getting inside as he stepped past you and into the living room.

“i swear to god i’ll call the cops.” you threatened with your voice low, not wanting matt to hear you just on the other side of the wall.

“nice place” he said sarcastically, his eyes roaming the house as he stopped in his tracks to turn to you. “where’s your room at?” he questioned with a chuckle, crossing his arms once again as he looked down the doors lining the hallway.

“jesus, chris — just leave, please.” you nearly begged, taking his forearm between your hands as you tried to pull his weight towards the front door.

his gaze landed on the door cracked open, the light of your lamp spilling through as a smile pulled onto his lips “damn, relax kid, is your room dirty or somethin?” he shook his head as he tugged away from your grip, beginning to walk towards your bedroom. “you know i don’t care” he continued to tease, taking the door knob between his hand.

“no, chris, please just go.” you cried out, a little too loud for comfort as you continued to fight against his movements.

standing in front of your door, chris pushed it back as his eyes immediately widened upon looking inside. letting a bitter yet amused laugh escape past his lips, he turned to face you briefly as he looked back into your bedroom.

“m’i interrupting something?” he scoffed, looking back and forth between you and your bedroom as you pushed past him, freezing beneath the door frame as you looked over matt sitting at the foot of your bed.

“matt” you mouthed his name although your voice fell silent, the expression on your face speaking all the words that you couldn’t manage to get out. you stepped back, bumping into chris’ chest behind you as he continued to chuckle out of disbelief. a mix of irritation, resentment and enjoyment rung in the sound of his laughter.

“nuh uh” chris gripped his hands firmly around your hips as he felt your back press against him, the ball of your heel accidentally digging into his sneaker.

matt sat in silence, his jaw clenching at the sight of chris’ hands wrapped around you as he seemingly connected all of the dots by now. chris pushed your hips forward as you stumbled into the room, slamming the door shut behind him to leave the three of you in a heated silence.

you couldn’t look either of them in the eyes, between the anger and disappointment in matt’s face or the smug, possessive, envy in chris’ expression. matt stood up from your bed, beginning to move towards your door as he shoved past chris’ shoulder on the way out.

“wait” you groaned out to matt, shaking your head as you stepped forward before being met with chris’ solid chest as he moved in front of you.

“hold up, matt” he mumbled, glancing quickly over his shoulder as matt stopped before the door, his back still turned to both of you.

“what?” he shot back, as this was the first time they’d actually spoken to each other in over a year. your eyebrows knit together as you looked from matt up to chris, his eyes now full of mischief.

chris put a hand on your hip as he guided your body weight to the side, causing you to fall back on the foot of the bed. crossing his arms over his chest, you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“c’mere” chris nodded his head to motion his brother in his direction as he looked back at matt, who was now looking over at him past his shoulder.

matt’s face scrunched up in confusion and annoyance as he was far past fed up with the situation. “bro what do you want?” he spat, again, his face scrunching farther up as his eyebrows furrowed together, turning to face him.

“she wants both of us” chris scoffed through a laugh, looking him in the eyes as they were both ignoring you now. “don’t you sweetheart” chris narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose up snarkily as he briefly turned to acknowledge you. you couldn’t speak as a weight crushed over your chest, your eyes flickering between chris and matt.

you loved chris. despite the arguments and possessiveness that once filled your relationship — you were drawn to the fire, even after burning yourself countless of times over.

however, you hit it off with matt almost instantly. in the weeks you had known him, he was so incredibly attentive and sweet — you two clicked into place like the final puzzle piece.

although you couldn’t physically say it, you did want both of them and their polar opposite elements.

“why not give ‘er both of us” chris shrugged, although he was confident in his words. your eyes shot back up to chris, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. chris couldn’t fathom the idea of sharing you, however, he knew that you weren’t his to claim anymore.

“what?” your jaw fell slack, inching farther back on the bed as your eyes were still glued on chris, who was ignoring you, staring back at matt now.

shaking his head through a laugh, chris walked over to the side of your bed, climbing onto the mattress behind you as he pressed a hand against your stomach, pulling your back into his chest.

your mouth still parted open as chris nearly forced your back against him, pushing your hair to the opposite side as he placed a kiss on your exposed shoulder. you were nearly frozen in your position, looking at matt as his fist clenched by his side, knuckles nearly turning white from the tension. the sound of his rings squeezing against his skin lingering in the silence.

“c’mon matt” chris nearly whined against your skin, his lips trailing up to the crook of your neck as his eyes were locked on matt’s across the room. matt’s face burned with anger as his eyes flickered to yours, doe eyed as your eyebrows drew together in a silent apologetic expression.

matt released the fist forming in his hand as he shook his head, scoffing before turning to face the door again “nah, man, whatever” he mumbled, beginning to walk out.

“matty” you called out softly, knowing that hearing you use that nickname made him weak in the knees. he closed his eyes briefly while biting the inside of his cheek, turning back to look at you once more as chris’ lips quipped up into a smirk against your skin.

holding your hand out for him, the glimmer of the dim lamp in your wide eyes only emphasized the innocent look on your face. shaking his head, matt gripped his fist together once more, also knowing that he couldn’t resist you.

hesitantly stepping towards you, matt took your hand beneath his as you pulled him into you with a soft smile. leaning forward he held his weight on one hand as you pulled him into a kiss, holding the side of his face as you caressed the stubble forming on his jaw. while the kiss was gentle, matt’s lips moved with anger as he grabbed the side of your neck firmly.

the smirk on chris’ face never left as he wrapped his hand around your lower half where your thighs and hips met, gripping tightly as he held you still, grazing his teeth down on the skin of your neck on the opposite side. groaning softly into matt’s mouth, you felt chris’ erection growing beneath your ass as you gently pushed your hips back to rub against him, causing him to hiss at the feeling.

“why didn’t you just tell me” matt whispered low against your lips, a hint of irritation in his tone. although, you didn’t even know the answer to his question as you chose to avoid it, hungrily crashing your lips together once more.

“are you two just gonna sit there and kiss all fuckin’ night or what?” chris groaned bitterly as he tugged the skin of your neck up between his teeth, blistering red as you winced at the painful pleasure.

matt shook his head in annoyance, slightly pulling back to shoot a glare at chris with his lips on your neck, hands around your hips as he chuckled quietly at matt’s reaction. “shut the fuck up” matt muttered quickly, connecting your lips once more as he kept his eyes on chris’ to get a rise out of him.

you felt chris’ grip get tighter as he clenched his jaw, nodding his head with another bitter chuckle while swiping his tongue against his teeth.

chris pulled away to wrap a hand around the side of your neck, pulling you back from matt’s lips followed by a soft gasp. “arms up” he groaned quietly into you ear as he reached around your waist to pull the fabric of your tank top up over your torso. raising your arms completely, he slipped it over your head and onto the floor to reveal your exposed chest.

leaning forward again, chris wrapped his arms beneath your underarms as he took both of your tits between his hands, gently rubbing at your nipples between his fingers. moaning quietly beneath your breath at the feeling, you sunk back between his spread legs and into his chest.

matt watched the interaction, still leaning forward on one hand with a tightened jaw — at this point, it became a competition between the two of them. crouching down on his knees, matt wrapped his ringed fingers around your thighs as he tugged your lower half forward on the edge of the bed, taking the fabric of your shorts between his hands as he pulled them down completely.

“there we go” chris chuckled quietly, watching matt as he seemingly lit a fire under his brother. pulling himself back, chris lazily took your hair between his hands as he used an old bracelet around his wrist to tie it up out of your face. connecting his fingers with your nipples again, you watched as matt pushed your legs up and knees back into your chest.

“so fuckin’ wet” matt mumbled, trailing his fingers flat against your folds as you squirmed at the feeling, moaning out as you hid your flustered features in the crook of chris’ neck behind you.

smirking at the sounds rolling off your tongue, matt leaned forward to press a kiss against your pussy coated with arousal. “matt” you groaned impatiently, reaching forward to lock your fingers into his hair.

“so needy, baby” matt chuckled quietly, looking up at chris as your eyes were squeezed shut against his larger frame. hearing matt call you that caused chris’ face to burn red with anger as he leaned forward, his face peering down at matt over your shoulder.

burying his face between your legs, matt wrapped his hands around your thighs to keep them spread as he swiped his tongue flat against your folds, eliciting a jagged moan from you as you desperately jutted your hips forward.

chris shook his head, knowing it should be him getting the reaction out of you as he had plenty of times before. completely wrapping his right hand around the front of your neck, he pulled your upper half towards his chest, moving his fingers up around your jaw as he forced your gaze to his face rather than down at matt.

messily connecting your lips, chris used his other hand to squeeze at your tit between his fingers. a wave of sensitivity rushed over your body at the feeling of matt’s tongue flush against your pussy and chris tugging at your nipples, unable to control the moans escaping past your lips.

“s’this what you wanted sweetheart?” chris grumbled against your lips, it had been months since you felt his touch, although this time around it felt like anger masked by lust. “my dick wasn’t enough so you fuck my brother?” he groans against your lips as you whined out at the feeling of matt dipping his tongue between your pussy, licking a stripe up towards your clit as your body squirmed at the sensitivity.

chris moved his free hand around your hips to hold you steady as his other was still wrapped tightly around your jaw while you kissed him, chris reciprocating the hunger in your movements.

as matt worked on your clit, the pleasure sent an overbearing chill down your spine, your hand still locked in his hair as you tugged harshly at the curls beneath your fingers. “hold still princess” matt groaned as he held onto your thighs tightly, the rings around his fingers digging into your skin.

chris smirked at matt’s words, knowing that the pleasure almost ached at this point as you wriggled beneath his hands.

while chris tended to fuck you rough, it was never out of ill intention — he would never wanna hurt you. he simply liked being dominant, although, he always wanted to make you feel equally good, if not more, at the same time. you two had a designated safe word for whenever you needed it and he was more than happy to stop the second you uttered that word. however, the jealousy that built in his system quickly turned into arousal as he watched you squirm between the two of them.

“yeah, princess, stay still for matt” chris groaned against your lips, slightly mocking matt’s tone as he’d never called you that before, his grip digging into your skin as he held you in place. matt’s eyebrows furrowed at his words, although he continued as this was the first time they had shared something in common for a long time: you.

“i c-can’t” you moaned out with a stutter through the sensation building in your stomach, finally speaking after minutes of silence. “oh my god” you groaned at the tender feeling of matt’s tongue against your clit, your legs beginning to shudder as matt held them in place.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” matt began sweetly before letting a trail of saliva fall down his lips, spitting on your already soaking folds. “can’t handle both of us like you wanted?” he continued, his words hanging lustfully as your legs now fought against his hands.

“aht aht” chris pulled away, releasing his grip on your jaw as he reached both arms around your hips to hold your thighs spread open. matt glanced up at chris briefly as they soon realized they weren’t competing against each other anymore, rather working together. “keep goin’” chris muttered, nodding his head down at matt as he held your thighs open.

matt nodded as chris held you in place, one hand tugging onto matt’s hair as the other tightly gripped the fabric of chris’ shorts. with both hands free now, matt slipped the silver ring off his middle finger as he teasingly rubbed over your clit before pumping those same fingers between your walls.

you bucked your hips forward off the bed as your head rolled back onto chris’ shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut through a moan as matt’s fingers curled upwards. “that feel good baby?” chris groaned into your ear, his cock practically straining against your back as he watched your body shudder at the feeling.

nodding your head, you turned your face to look over at chris as you moved your hand up from his shorts and onto his face, holding his cheek between your palm. caressing his cheek, you pressed a warm kiss against his lips.

leaning forward once more, matt trailed his tongue up to your clit as he gently sucked between his lips, causing your body to tremble at the feeling, his fingers still working in and out deeper now. loud, jagged whines rolled off your lips, left and right, not knowing how much longer you could take it. “baby, i c-can’t” you whined against chris’ lips, not sure who you were talking to anymore at this point.

your thighs continued to jerk at the feeling of matt overworking your clit, your hand now grabbing a handful of chris’ curls, at this point they would have to restrain you if they kept going. “i’m gonna cum” you moaned, your head rolling down into the crook of chris’ neck as a smirk pulled onto his lips.

“what d’ya say? think she’s had enough?” chris asked, looking down at matt between your thighs as he pulled back to return the look, his chin soaked in your arousal, a smirk pulling at his face.

“nah” matt shook his head, deliberately slipping his finger deeper between your walls as your back arched off chris’ chest. “she wants both of us, we’ll give ‘er the full experience” matt laughed low, as desire had completely washed over him now.

chris’ eyebrows raised at his words, nodding in agreement with a laugh “alright ‘matty’ go ‘head” chris mocked your tone, spreading your legs farther apart for matt as you squeezed your eyes shut, your core also squeezing tightly as he continued to work against your clit.

“baby, please, i’m gonna cum, please” you moaned, your legs completely wrestling against chris’ hands as you tried to squeeze them around the sides of matt’s face. the feeling became unbearable as you felt yourself begin to slip. your back now arched completely off of chris’ chest, your hips digging farther back into the bed as you had finally reached your climax.

“atta girl” chris groaned into your ear, recognizing the way your face scrunched up when you finally came as he smoothed his hands over your aching thighs. your body sunk back into chris’ chest, breathing in and out heavily, wincing at the feeling of matt swiping his tongue upwards over the the cum leaking from between your folds. brushing the flyaways slicked with sweat against your forehead, chris placed a kiss against the side of your head as he held you. “relax” he drawled out a whisper, his arms now wrapped around your body.

looking up at you, matt peppered gentle kisses on your thighs as his eyes caught chris’ over your shoulder. “shhh” matt whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he comforted you. you kept your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath as you rested back against chris’ frame, the sound of your panting filled the room.

matt and chris practically spoke telepathically in the silence, reading each other’s mind through their eyes and expressions painted on each other’s face. “oh my god” you breathed out slowly, still sunk down beneath chris as matt dug his elbows forward into the foot of your bed, his hands wrapping around your hips as he pulled you towards him.

“you did so good” matt cooed, his thumbs rubbing up and down your skin as you sat up straight to look down at him, responding with a nod. chris rubbed your back in circular motions before sitting back on his elbows as you were still situated between his legs, watching and waiting for matt to sweet talk his way into making the next move.

“can you keep goin’ for us pretty girl?” matt asked gently, although chris already knew your limits as he waited for your response, matt’s hands still smoothing over your legs as you didn’t wanna give up now — nodding your head slowly as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. “good girl” chris sat up, both of their lips pulling into a smirk at your approval.

“get on your hands and knees” chris stood up off the bed now, the same demanding tone still lingering, months later, as you had heard those words from him plenty of times before. crawling towards the center of the bed, you dug the heels of your palms and knees into the mattress, waiting for either of their touch.

chris and matt stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed over their chests and eyes trailing over your figure on all fours in front of them. looking back over your shoulder, you heard them mumbling things quietly between each other as they decided how to go about it. “any day now” you teased with a giggle as both of their eyebrows raised identically at your tone.

“what was that?” chris asked, holding his finger behind his ear as he stepped closer to the bed, reaching out to smack his hand down against your ass, gripping the skin beneath his fingers. “the lip on this one” chris scoffed, a hint of his boston accent coming through as he glanced back at matt, knowing deep down he had missed that sassiness in your tone.

“take care of it” matt nodded his head towards you, as your head shot back over your other shoulder to look at matt, hoping your puppy dog eyes would somehow save you.

“nuh uh, don’t look at me like that” matt chuckled, walking towards the headboard as he held your cheek in his palm “too late now” he flashed a smile, gently patting his hand against your face.

you felt the mattress shift beneath you as chris dug his knees into the bed behind you. both of his hands palming at the skin of your ass before slapping his right hand against you again, rocking your body forward with the force. you softly hissed, your eyes closing immediately at the touch.

matt climbed onto the bed, taking your chin between his fingers as he pulled your jaw up “look at me sweetheart” he tugged at your chin, forcing you to look up at him with a nod.

“still on the pill kid?” chris asked, his hand smoothing up your back as he waited for your response. “mhm” you nodded, although the idea of you fucking anyone else, raw at that, still tinged his face red with jealousy. “good” he shook the thought from his head before smacking your ass again, making up for all the lost time as he began to pull his shorts down.

taking his cock between his hands, chris pumped his length a few times before slapping his tip between your ass. your body tensed at the feeling as he trailed himself down your pussy on display between your ass cheeks. teasingly rubbing himself against your folds, he lubricated himself in your arousal.

your eyes began to close as you waited for him to sink inside of you before matt tugged at your chin again “what’d i say?” he mumbled, forcing your eyes back open as you looked back up at him again. his free hand working on his belt buckle before pulling his jeans down, letting the denim pool around his knees as he held his cock straining bright pink in front of your face.

the sound of chris’ spitting came from behind you as he let a puddle of saliva build in his fingertips, lubricating himself even more as he found himself lining up with your entrance soon after. the room was silent as they mutually agreed to sink into you at the same time, matt’s hand locking on your ponytail as you wrapped your lips around his cock, pushing his hips forward into your mouth with a groan in response to the warmth.

chris used his free hand to spread your ass open farther, finally pushing his cock through your folds “jesus, forgot how fuckin’ tight you are” he hissed, his hands now grabbing onto your ass for leverage as your walls wrapped snugly around his dick.

your eyes remained up on matt’s face as his head slowly rolled back, groans escaping past his lips as your cheeks hollowed out around his cock. “that’s my girl” he moaned low, his chest rising and falling as he looked down at you again, his hand caressing your cheek. you held your weight on one hand, holding the base of his dick in the other as you pulled back to breath before chris could pound into you from behind, pushing your lips forward to gag down on matt’s cock again.

chris chuckled, his hand smoothing down your back as he smacked his free hand against your ass between thrusts. “can’t run that pretty mouth now, can you baby?” he teased, trailing his hand back down your ass to pull your weight back down on his cock. your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling, tears welling in your eyes as you tried not to gag again.

matt moved both of his hands behind your head as he sluggishly removed the bracelet loosely holding your hair back, grabbing all of your hair between his fingers to re-tie it up into a messy ponytail. keeping his hands rested at the back of your head, he used the force of chris’ thrust to bob your head back and forth on his dick. looking up at matt through tear laden eyelashes, his face fully concentrated as he stared back down at you wrapped around his cock. “pretty girl, takin’ both our dicks so well” he cooed, trailing his hand forward to rub the pad of his thumb against your cheek, biting at the inside of his cheek as he felt an orgasm inching closer in his stomach.

it felt like you couldn’t breath, although you weren’t gonna give up — not yet, as it also felt like a wave of pleasure nearly paralyzing your body as they both drove their hips into either ends of you. your cheeks were flushed red, your baby hairs slicking down to your forehead as your moans were suppressed by matt’s cock pulsing between your lips.

you felt the pressure building in your stomach as chris continued to fuck you from behind, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass as he pounded into you harder. he gripped onto your hips, guiding you back and forth on his cock “so quiet ma, isn’t this what you wanted?” chris teased, deliberately driving his hips harder into your ass to get a moan from you. you felt yourself gag again around matt’s cock, quickly raising your hand to hold his length as you pulled back to nod your head.

“i’m gonna fucking cum” you breathily choked over your words, matt’s dick pushing between your lips again as he grabbed your chin. “jus hold on princess, i’m almost there” he squeezed your face, using both of his hands now to cup your cheeks as he pulled your head down on his cock.

chris continued with the same force, screwing into you as his life depended on it. your hands and legs grew weak holding your weight up, knowing an orgasm would completely send your body over the edge.

“fuck, keep goin” matt groaned as his eyes squeezed shut, rolling his head back as he quickly pulled out soon after, shooting his hot load over your face as it covered your features. his stomach twitched along with his cock, making sure every drop coated your pretty face as he rode out the high.

dropping back on the bed, matt rested his back against the headboard, allowing you to breathe out heavily as matt finally pulled out. immediately your body fell forward, the side of your cheek smushing against matt’s thigh, trailing his fingers through your hair to pull the ponytail down as he was the first to tap out.

chris, on the other hand, showed no sign of stopping anytime soon as he fucked your face farther into matt’s thigh. “there we go pretty girl” chris groaned, as the sound of your moans now filling the room was music to his ears.

“you wanna cum for us?” matt asked, his fingers brushing the hair out of your face as he comforted you through the tender orgasm building in your stomach. you nodded your head over enthusiastically, eyes squeezed shut as you gripped matt’s hand tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“c’mon mama, cum for me” chris groaned to himself under his breath, knowing you were close. his hips driving into you as he finally buried his cock far enough to hit your sweet spot, immediately pulling an orgasm from deep in your stomach as your back arched farther into the bed.

“fuck, chris” you whined out as he ripped the words from your mouth, squeezing matt’s hand as he now held you through your climax. chris’ face twisted into a smirk at your words, knowing your body like the back of his hand and just how much you could take — worked like a charm every time.

“atta girl, just like that” chris cooed through a groan, talking you through your orgasm as he was also nearing his own.

“you got it princess” matt whispered, his hand resting on the back of your head as your eyes burned with tears and remnants of cum in your eyelashes. thrusting one final time as he buried his cock deep between your folds, you felt his dick twitch inside of you as an immediate warmth filled your cunt. “fuck” chris drawled out another groan, his cock continuing to pulse as his cum finally coated your walls.

chris lazily pulled out as his dick fell limp against his thigh, his head rolled back in pure bliss while you were a mess, face down against matt’s thigh. you felt tears stream down your face as your body ached, your pussy bright red and raw.

“shhh baby, y’okay?” matt sunk down farther on the bed, his hands immediately wrapping around your face as he wiped away the tears and cum pooling near your eyes. you couldn’t even find the energy to nod your head, your eyes still shut as your stomach fell flat against the bed.

chris still catching his breath as he was the last to tap out, although that didn’t stop him from instantly aiding you in your recovery. quickly pulling his shorts on, he reached his hands down to soothe over the back of your tender thighs. “you did so good ma” he praised you, gently moving his hands beneath your hips as he turned you flat against your back so you could rest your head on the pillows.

“you okay?” matt asked again, his fingers caressing your cheek, both of them now looking down at you as chris used his shirt to clean the cum still lingering on your face. you nodded up at them, your eyes flickering back and forth as you were still slightly seeing stars above them.

laying down on either sides of your body, your skin stuck together with sweat, neither of them skipping over the aftercare as they trailed their hands over your body to soothe your sore muscles.

you three sat in silence, your bodies pressing against each other as you all caught your breath “so” you nearly squeaked out, clearing your throat, after remaining silent for a couple of minutes.

“are you guys like twins or?” you continued, looking up at them as a cheesy smile twisted onto your lips.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: welp 🫣 this one is for my pookie @hearts4sturniolo we literally just met but i love her sm, anyways hope y’all enjoyed!

tags: @watercolorskyy @joemamaaa42069 @luvergirlgabby @hearts4sturniolo @chrizzpiecreme @dietcokenumberonefan @sofieeeeex @eyelovedher89 @mattslolita @luverboychris @x0x0bunny

[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).

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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! :)

[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?

[minhkhoas]

THE GHOST-MAKER: a deconstruction of his identity

2.2k words | An analysis of the stereotypes & tropes surrounding Minhkhoa Khan

Minhkhoa Khan, also known as the Ghost-Maker, has been a rather significant part of the Batman mythos since his debut in Batman (2016) issue #100. The Ghost-Maker is introduced as the supposed antithesis to Bruce Wayne’s vigilante identity of Batman— he’s described as self-centered, sadistic, and cold, not holding any ounce of empathy for those around him. He kills without remorse, something that sets him apart from his Gotham counterpart, and refers to himself as having been diagnosed as a psychopath at the age of eight.

“Ghost-Maker sees Bruce as a spoiled rich brat. Bruce sees Ghost-Maker as cruel, selfish, and wildly self-important. He is more hedonistic than Batman. He is bisexual, sleeping with anyone that catches his attention. He drinks. He does drugs. He enjoys all the selfish pursuits of life. He is a PSYCHOPATH. He does not experience empathy for other people. He says that that is his strength over Bruce. Ghost-Maker is a vigilante because he enjoys being the best he is at what he does. He is like Sherlock Holmes, caring more about the art of the mystery than the victims of the crime. Ghost-Maker is most concerned with perfecting his craft. Batman is trying to fill an emotional void, and that is why Ghost-Maker sees him destined to fail.”

— James Tynion IV

On paper, it’s clear that Tynion intended for him to serve as a simultaneous ally and enemy to Batman, his allegiance swaying just as his morals do. Tynion describes Minhkhoa as centering his entire crime fighting philosophy around the need to be the best at what he does, which leads him to constantly seek to outdo Batman. The first blatant sign of his involvement in Gotham comes in the form of a message to Batman— one that involves the killing of over a dozen men, a rather brutal way to announce his presence to one of his oldest acquaintances. Whilst Batman discovers the carnage, we see Ghost-Maker complaining in length about the inefficiency of Batman’s work and the overall state of Gotham. He takes a keen interest in Bao Pham, a seventeen-year old boy who’s donned the identity of Clownhunter, a vigilante who takes justice into his own hands by killing those who conspired with the Joker. This, combined with the aforementioned massacre, is the first indication of his personality and overall lack of empathy. He shows no hesitation in his plans to seek out and kill a teenager in order to essentially shock Batman into realizing his efforts are useless.

The extent of his alleged ‘psychopathy,’ as it’s referred to both in-canon and by the creator of Ghost-Maker himself, is further explored following his initial stint in Gotham in the form of a flashback. It is then that readers understand the depth of his and Batman’s relationship; it’s clear that they met in their youth and trained together, only to separate after Minhkhoa’s penchant for killing divided them. Their relationship is once again shown to be competitive, with Minhkhoa and Bruce using physical violence to settle a disagreement. Throughout the altercation, Minhkhoa taunts Bruce and seemingly uses his emotions to his advantage whilst remaining levelheaded. All of these details develop him into a character who finds amusement in violence, and feels little to no guilt at manipulating others.

A shift in Minhkhoa’s depiction arrived with the publication of issue #4 of writer Chip Zdarsky’s Batman: The Knight, a ten-issue storyline following Bruce Wayne as he trained around the world in preparation to become Batman. We see Minhkhoa and Bruce meeting as young teenagers with the shared goal of pursuing crime fighting, journeying together across the world. Their friendship blurs the line between platonic and romantic expression on multiple occasions, with Minhkhoa nearly kissing Bruce at one point during their training. It even extends beyond their time together in the form of one of Bruce’s mentors— Dr. Captio who, incidentally, was training Bruce to overcome physical pain despite him being incapable of overcoming his emotional pain— referring to Minhkhoa as “the little ghost that broke Bruce’s heart” following an argument that caused them to separate and ended in Bruce finding Dr. Captio without Minhkhoa’s help.

The topic of Minhkhoa’s name is another trove of information entirely, as Bruce only discovered his true name after months of traveling with Minhkhoa. Sometime following this discovery, Bruce inevitably begins to use the nickname “Khoa” to refer to him. Whether it was given to him by Bruce or pre-existing is unknown, but he is the first person to refer to Minhkhoa with it, suggesting that he did create it. The notion that Minhkhoa, who’s previously been described as not caring for other people, would allow this is just one of numerous plot points brought up by Zdarsky that slowly chip away at the one-dimensional caricature created by Tynion.

Minhkhoa is a brown, Asian, bisexual man, all of which is established by James Tynion IV throughout Batman (2016). He hails from Singapore, though the multiethnic nature of his name— with ‘Minh’ and ‘Khoa’ being Vietnamese names and ‘Khan’ having roots in South and Central Asia— suggests his ancestry stretches far beyond the city-state. It’s unclear if Tynion intended for Ghost-Maker to be so ethnically ambiguous aside from his clear Asian ancestry, that of which is truly confirmed by Minhkhoa’s appearance on an Asian-American Pacific Islander heritage month variant cover. His racial identity is rarely touched upon, which is simply the start of the slippery slope that becomes the fetishization and exotification of non-white men in Western media.

Minhkhoa is shown to sleep with both men and women in a rather careless manner, using sex as a form of meditation in order to solve crimes and further his own crime fighting agenda. He shows little to no emotional connection with the people he spends his nights with, and is significantly more promiscuous than Batman is. This in itself is a heavy propagation of the idea that bisexual individuals are unable to stay in committed relationships because their lack of single-gender attraction renders them incapable of forming meaningful connections. He appears in DC Comics’ 2023 Pride volume, in which he interacts with Catman— Thomas Blake— and subsequently sleeps with him, thus underlining the common theme of Minhkhoa’s relationships being limited to nothing more than a physical connection. This is emphasized especially when he’s seen leaving bed with both a man and woman by his side, whom he tells to make up grand stories about their time together in order to hyperbolize his feats and create mystery around his life.

His penchant for meaningless flings and physical connection is intrinsically connected to his status as a brown man, a member of a group that tends to be largely fetishized by Western audiences. He is visibly brown/tan when depicted with large portions of skin showing, often in the aftermath of a night of passion, yet he’s whitewashed when presented in other contexts. This pattern deviates in Batman: The Knight where we still see an aspect of sexualization when he’s seen seducing a man far older than him in issue #5, a tactic that could’ve been largely avoided and yet was likely used to emphasize his bisexuality. He is only allowed to be brown when it’s appealing to the audience, when his body is on display, and when he’s not meant to be an esteemed crime fighter.

On another front, his identity as the Ghost-Maker is largely debated by the global community, with most people believing he doesn’t exist. He’s treated as a myth— a man larger than life, despite his seemingly active involvement in Southeast Asia’s crime scene. The mere concept of the Ghost-Maker is treated as legend, similar to how the people of Gotham speculated over Batman’s existence during Bruce’s early days as the vigilante. However, it raises a larger question: Why is Minhkhoa Khan so elusive, and what were the motivations behind making him so?

The answer requires the consideration of several factors: the fact that there are less than ten living people who know Minhkhoa’s name and even less that have seen his face, the overall nature of his work as a vigilante with no qualms against killing, his status as a ‘foreign vigilante’ when compared to the other members of Batman’s circle, and the treatment of his overarching identity as a whole.

It’s clear that Ghost-Maker is far more secretive than Batman, most significantly in his personal life. Batman is inextricably tied to his public persona of Bruce Wayne, the former-billionaire CEO of Wayne Enterprises and “Gotham’s favorite son,” whereas Minhkhoa Khan is simply unknown to the world. When considered in the scope of his vigilantism, it makes sense: he commits objectively more ‘severe’ crimes than Batman, disregarding the fact that he doesn’t kill when working with Batman following his promise to refrain from doing so. However, when factoring in his racial identity, it quickly begins to unravel.

Comic books are far from immune from stereotypes, and even more well-known for orientalism in iconic characters such as Ra’s Al Ghul and his daughter, Talia, both of whom are portrayed with a certain mystique and air of exoticism. Though it may not have been intentional, there is something to be said about the tropes surrounding Minhkhoa Khan. He’s mysterious, alluring, and utilizes swords similar to katanas despite not being Japanese, adding to the air of foreignness surrounding him. Bruce states on numerous occasions that there’s something “broken” in him, and a large part of their arguments are founded on the basis of Bruce attempting to pacify or fix Minhkhoa and his efforts being rejected every time.

When Bruce Wayne is angry, it’s justified, often caused by an overwhelming need to survive in the instance of Batman: The Knight. When Minhkhoa Khan is angry, it’s out of malicious intent to harm others and is just further ‘proof’ of his innate inhumanity. He’s not allowed to be angry, not in the sense that Batman is, because his anger is violence and his violence is feral. His actions are driven by an inability for him to control himself, hence why he has no issue with sleeping around and killing people. There is always something inherently ‘other’ about him because he is brown, something that is even further emphasized by his juxtaposition to Batman.

Minhkhoa is without a doubt a complex character, as seen in the way he seeks out knowledge to understand the emotions of those around him— most notably Bruce— and effectively go against the harsh stereotypes surrounding him. The layers to his personality are deep, and yet they’re not immune to subconscious bias on the writers’ parts. He’s violent, almost alarmingly so, and is only “tamed” when he makes a promise to a white man. He allegedly doesn’t understand emotions and has to be told to make an effort to do so despite being a grown man, and this in itself is a disservice to two integral parts of his identity.

His presumed antisocial personality disorder is treated as one-dimensional and not multifaceted as personality disorders tend to be, and he only seems capable of experiencing one emotion at a time. He’s allowed to be harsh, but that harshness is dulled when he’s around Bruce, his alleged ‘pacifier.’ He’s shown to be emotionally stunted and incapable of caring for children despite being exceedingly smart in other categories, which is strange. It would be assumed that a man of his caliber would understand the fundamentals of raising a child, especially when he understands his own emotions enough to program an artificial intelligence to feel fear for him. Perhaps it’s intended to be a mirror of Bruce Wayne’s own inability to seek professional help, but Bruce is allowed to and has grown from their youth, while Minhkhoa evidently hasn’t.

There is an inherent issue within the overarching ‘Batman Family’ in that less popular characters are shunted in favor of placing Batman at the forefront, depriving his allies of the proper growth and characterization they deserve. We see it in Barbara Gordon and Selina Kyle, whose character development arcs have been completely shattered post-New 52 in order to make them more palatable love interests for Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne, respectively. It’s seen with Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain, who are often overlooked in favor of their male counterparts, and it’s seen in Duke Thomas, who has always been placed on the outskirts of both canon and fandom content despite being created ten years ago and being a fairly-established character.

Minhkhoa is no stranger to this trend, his personality and actions seemingly shifting based on whether he’s interacting with Batman or not. This could be explored in depth through a lens other than the precarious pacifier-pacified dynamic, yet DC Comics refuses to pursue anything further. They attempted to mold him in Batman Incorporated (2022) but fell short with a lackluster plot and prolonged continuations of the aforementioned tropes and stereotypes.

Ghost-Maker is a character teeming with potential, as are all of Batman’s allies, but he’s veering towards a dangerous characterization if DC continues to go down the path of hiring uneducated writers to portray him. There are several intentional aspects of his character, most notably found in his intentional color parallels with Batman, and yet they can’t seem to put in an effort to treat him and his experience with care and respect.

[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

[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"