#the vampire feels a little too accurate

[waugh-bao]

[nguyenfinity]

diamond dust

[thechaoticdruid]

°•IF THE BG3 COMPANIONS BABYSAT YOUR KIDS!•°

Lae'zel

Congratulations your children are spending an afternoon at boot camp!

You can rest assured they will be treated fairly at least.

No favoritism going on here.

Anyone who misbehaves shall be sent to solidarity confinement and left there until....Idk

If they want a snack they WILL have to fight one another in a duel to the death.

Or at least until one of them falls down and cries.

To the winner go the cookies.

Or more accurately maybe some giant space hamster jerky.

Karlach

This is assuming her engine has been fixed, naturally.

The kids absolutely love Auntie K.

Legit can carry them all on her shoulders at once.

She gives the best hugs too and is always so nice and warm.

She is up to play any games with them! Especially ones where she pretends to be a monster and chases them around.

Very protective of the little ones.

Brings them new stuffies each time she visits.

You MUST remind her constantly to watch her language around the little ones!

Gale

Arrives via magic portal.

Brings Tara to help him.

Takes it very personally if one of the children don't like him.

Tries to impress them via magic and creates a magical illusion to entertain the kiddos.

Attempts to teach them everything he knows about the weave.

Takes it very hard if the children fall asleep during his lecture.

Must be consoled by Tara.

If any take an interest in the weave they immediately become his favorite.

You'll probably end up coming home to your home appliances floating or having some kind of enchantment on them.

Halsin

Yes he turns into a bear and lets them ride on his back.

Most time is spent outside enjoying nature and all of its beauty.

Will carry the littlest one on his shoulders at all times.

Always brings healthy snacks, mostly fruit like apple slices.

Proceeds to take them to a nearby pond to feed the ducks.

Widdles them little animal figures to play with.

No TV or video games. The thought of technology taking over their lives makes him sick.

We play outside or we don't play at all.

Doesn't mind them grabbing at his ears, if they can even reach them that is!

He has to remind one of them multiple times that he unfortunately cannot turn into a dragon.

Sad sad truth.

Shadowheart

Makes cute little flower crowns with them.

Helps the little ones feel better if any of them are afraid of the dark.

Is very good at comforting them.

Possibly might be one of the older one's first goth girl crush.

Badmouths Lae'zel in front of them shamelessly.

Always puts on a tim Burton movie or something for them to watch.

Definitely the reason for any of their emo phases.

They think she's really cool though.

Wyll

Always the first to volunteer to babysit.

Man has the patience of a saint and can handle even the most unruly of children.

Always talks them up and is very careful to never put them down.

Tells them all kinds of exciting stories of his time as the Blade.

Makes sure to adjust them to be suitable for the kiddos.

Leaves out the scary parts.

If any of them are mean to one another and can't get along he's the type to make them each say something nice about the other as a punishment.

Let's them play with toy swords and teaches them a thing or two about using them.

Never raises his voice at them. Is super calm and collected.

Loves them all to pieces!

Also may or may not take them out to get ice cream if they're good.

Astarion

Assuming this is Spawnstarion we're talking about because the vampire Ascendant would just laugh in your face if you asked him then slam the door on you.

Our sweet little spawn will also likely laugh and think you're joking at first.

"You seriously want a vampire to watch over your children?"

Assuming you pay him and be sure to give him big sweet puppy dog eyes he may consider it.

This man is a very not my child not my problem kind of guy.

Gets annoyed with all the children asking tedious vampire questions and responds with very sarcastic answers.

Does not approve of them wanting to touch his ears.

Agrees to let them see his fangs in hopes to scare them (the mischievous little shit).

The children instead think they're cool, which confuses him. He really isn't sure how to feel about it.

Threatens to eat them if they get on his nerves.

Spends most of the time on the sofa, boredly reading a magazine or watching television.

Miraculously takes a shine to one of the younger girls who call him pretty and compliments his clothes and hair.

This is also given the girl is a little mischief gremlin who pulls pranks on her older siblings.

He lets her paint his nails purple or red while she gossips about her mother/father's new partner or her siblings.

Unapologetically shows her favoritism and lets her sit on his lap and watch TV with him.

Will not bat an eye if the other children run a muck and destroy shit.

Legit just keeps watching TV. Probably some drama filled 'reality' show.

He actually finds the chaos caused by the children quite amusing.

One of the children somehow ends up on the roof.

Once the parents are home and it's time to leave. The youngest girl gives him a hug.

His eyes get all big and round and almost threaten to tear up.

Astarion is not asked to babysit again.

Sorry some of them are so short, I mostly write for Astarion so I'm not very confident at doing the other characters.

Hope you like it though!

[physalian]

How to Make your Writing Less Stiff 4

Let’s keep this train rollin’! This time less down to line edits and more overall scope of your narrative

Part 3

1. Foreshadowing

Nothing quite like the catharsis of accurately predicting where something’s going to go. It doesn’t have to be a huge plot twist or a character death, it can (and should) be little things that reward your audience for paying attention. Double points if it adds to rewatch/re-readability.

Example: In The Dark Knight, this exchange happens:

Harvey: “You’ve known Rachel all her life.”

Alfred: “Oh, not yet, Sir.”

You won’t think anything of it on your first watch. Alfred is just making a witty joke that throws Harvey off. Watch the movie again, when Rachel dies, and it becomes some incredibly dark foreshadowing. Turns out Alfred has, actually, known Rachel all her life.

2. Chekhov’s Gun

Chekhov’s Gun is a narrative concept where a seemingly inconsequential element introduced at some point in the narrative (a gun) must “fire” by the end of the narrative. Sometimes this element leaves audiences uneasy or anxious, because they know something bad must come of it. Sometimes they think nothing of it until it’s about to fire and you get a one-two punch of the realization that it’s about to hit, and then the impact of the hit. It helps create tension, and tension is incredibly important (if you want a whole post of my take on it, lmk).

It also helps your narrative look more cohesive, where nothing is left on the table. Your set-ups and payoffs leave no threads dangling.

3. Repetition

The Rule of threes can apply on a micro and macro scale. I like doing lists of adjectives in threes, (e.g. My cat is soft, fluffy, and adorable) because the cadence and the flow of three is something we’re familiar with in spoken language. We like three supporting examples for an argument. Any less doesn’t feel strong enough, any more feels like you’re trying too hard. This is not a rule it’s a suggestion.

On a grander scale, you can look at the script of Curse of the Black Pearl for a masterclass in macro rules of three, like three parlays. Doing this helps your narrative look more cohesive and like every detail is thoroughly interwoven and nothing is coincidence. Your audience will get to the third instance and mimic that DiCaprio pointing meme—they will absolutely notice.

4. Motifs

Motifs as well, beyond threes, help. Colors are a huge one. For example every time you mention the color purple, you could attach it to an emotion, or a character, or an important plot beat, like how leitmotifs work for character themes in movies and TV shows.

Obvious examples in film are like lightsaber colors or dressing up the good guys in white and the bad guys in black. I did this whole post about color in fiction.

It’s a lot of other things too. Weather elements and times of day, or specific inconsequential objects popping up over and over again, like birds, or litter, fallen leaves, clothing items. Whenever the narrative mentions them, the author is trying to clue you in on some subtext within that scene.

—

My new novel is here!!! Do you like supernatural fantasy? How about queer vampires? How about acespec characters? Then Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is for you!

[the-modern-typewriter]

could you write something about a vampire intentionally scaring a human? any reason works! your vampires are so fun to read 🥰

"I know you've been trying to scare me!"

"Oh?"

"It's n-not working!"

"Oh?" The vampire's eyes, in the dark and the moonlight, had the bone white gleam of a cat's. "Your heart is racing."

The protagonist swallowed. They jutted up their chin, no matter how foolish it was to further bare their throat to a vampire, even when that vampire was their older brother. "You're not going to hurt me. You'd never hurt me!"

The vampire's fangs slid out. "You really think so?"

He hopped down, off the windowsill and through the open window into the bedroom. It reminded them of all the times, growing up, that their brother had snuck back into the house through their bedroom window.

This somehow didn't feel quite the same as that, nor did the protagonist feel as unshakably safe as they had expected.

They'd always felt safe around Nick before, but it was like their brother's face had completely changed from what they recognised. His eyes burned with a cold and inhuman thirst, features too sharp and too weirdly lovely.

The protagonist took a step back, bumping into the edge of the bed behind them. "You're trying to drive me off to protect me! To get me to keep my distance."

"Am I?" The vampire straightened. He seemed to loom, despite casting no shadow, no reflection in the bedroom mirror.

The protagonist edged around the bed, keeping their attention locked on the vampire. "Uhuh."

"And yet you haven't run."

"You're my brother."

"You're an idiot."

"Runs in the family."

"Mm. How...delicious."

The protagonist's breath hitched. "Mum and dad will be furious if you hurt me."

"Mum and dad are just thrilled to have me back, have me home. Don't you know that I'm a miracle?"

The protagonist scrambled back, nearly tripping up over their gym bag on the floor.

The vampire didn't laugh, as the protagonist had half expected him to.

It was true that their parents had been - well. They definitely didn't want to hear all the reasons why it was impossible for Nick to be totally okay. All the reasons he wasn't quite like the Nick they knew. That was just going away to uni, right? Growing up! Nick was fine and all of the family's prayers had been answered.

Their older brother had always been the perfect one, so what did it matter now if he looked a little too perfect? If he moved with a little too much grace and speed?

"Don't you know," the vampire continued, "that they won't do a thing to protect you from me? They don't want me to kill you, of course not...but if there's a blood source in the family....I mean, that's convenient, right? No need to create gossip. I have to eat."

"So you are trying to scare me into leaving!"

"I'm telling you the truth about your intended purpose in this family."

"You won't hurt me, though."

"So you keep saying." The vampire prowled closer. "You must have really loved me when I was still alive."

The protagonist clenched their jaw, glaring, because it was better than flinching. "You're being stupid. Stop it."

"You're being stupid, stop it," the vampire mimicked. It always used to piss them off when their brother mocked them like that - but the voice was too accurate, too good a copy now. He didn't do that thing of making it unrealistically high pitched. His voice was too smooth. Too Not-Nick's.

Screw it.

The protagonist whirled for the bedroom door.

They'd barely turned before the vampire was there, blocking the way, leaning against the threshold. Casual.

The protagonist's heart lurched.

"Scared yet?" the vampire asked.

"No," the protagonist lied.

"Mm." The vampire was in front of them in the next blink, tilting the protagonist's head back to their expose their throat.

"W-wait!"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared." Their voice was small, pathetically so. The same voice as when they'd woken their brother up down the hall because there was a storm, or got a bad grade on a test and didn't want to bring it home to their parents and their brother found them crying. Nick had always covered for them. Always done their best to make the scary stuff go away.

It wasn't right.

"Yes," the vampire said, softly. His other hand rose, cupping the protagonist's face, giving an almost reassuring squeeze. His smile, sharp-toothed as it was, was not remotely reassuring. "I know."

Then, before the protagonist could say anything else, they bit.

The protagonist ran that night.

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

IWTV rant incoming, spoilers for both seasons, be forewarned!

I've been seeing far too much Louis hate online recently, and while I'm of the opinion that none of these vamps are completely innocent by nature, I can't help but notice the disproportionate hate on my boy.

Honestly, it feels a little like fandom racism. And I think AMC IWTV fans have convinced themselves that they're beyond such things because of Jacob and Assad, but idk, everyone turning on the Black one at once seems... yucky?

First, I've seen a lot of "Louis is an abuser". Which... is a wild take on a show where most of the main characters hurt everyone around them?

I think some of it is coming from those who saw the episode in season 2 in which it is revealed that the big fight that Louis and Lestat had in S1 was more even than just Lestat beating up Louis, but y'all... we're not supposed to take S1 as a complete fabrication. A lot of y'all keep saying "oh, we haven't met the real Lestat." Sure, not in person and not from his POV until that ending, but we're not supposed to take it as Louis just lying outright. In the series, different from the books, OUR Louis calls Daniel back in 2022 to give him a more accurate version of the story. In the 1970s, he was just trash-talking Lestat. In 2022, he is remembering Lestat fondly while also remembering all the pain Lestat caused him. He only learns at the end of the season that Armand manipulated some of his memories. And only SOME. We're not supposed to think Armand made Louis misremember everything he and Lestat ever did together. So, we can take S1 as a version of the truth, even if it has some holes or misremembered parts... and in S1, Lestat is a scary guy. When Louis fought him, he was fighting a scary monster. You can't talk about it like he was a human man fighting his human partner because he got a little angry. He was a vampire fighting an even stronger vampire who, as far as Louis knew, was capable of awful things. And Lestat stalked Louis when he was still a human, fed on him without consent, killed the priests Louis turned to in fear... none of that was healthy courtship of a lover. To then turn around and call LOUIS the abuser? That's nuts.

And then there's Armand.

Armand is capable of great physical violence without even lifting a finger. You cannot look at me in the face and tell me that Louis slamming him into a wall was *abuse* after finding out that Armand mindfucked him for 70 years. After y'all saw what Armand did to Daniel. After Armand plotted Louis' death while manipulating Louis into thinking he was loved.

"Louis is an abuser" is a wild take after watching both of those seasons. Louis isn't an innocent princess, either, but compared to the two older vampires, he is the main victim of the story. Both Lestat and Armand emotionally abused him, manipulated him, and physically hurt him, and after all of it, he just ends up alone.

Now, believe me, I love Armand and Lestat. I think they're wonderfully awful people, and so much fun to watch, so fun to love, so fun to hate. But I think so many people left season 2 on their sides completely, just because Louis stood up for himself AND admitted that he was wrong about a lot of what he thought he remembered. And in all honesty, I think a lot of y'all like Sam and Assad because they're hot and... Jacob, while hot, is still Black. With Assad, you can give yourselves the benefit of the doubt because he's still a person of color, but he's a non-black person of color...

And Black people are not afforded softness or innocence, the way non-black people are. So, Louis doing something that's not good makes him not good, even if it's in the context of being a vampire. But Lestat and Armand get "brat prince" and "baby girl" even when they're cruel.

And also, it's not great to put the "abuser" label on someone standing up to their abuser. I dunno. Feels kinda yucky, in that sense, too.

Personally, I try to keep these people's vampire incarnations out of human morality, because being a vampire is inherently immoral because you need to kill to stay alive. So, like, when they physically fight, I can excuse it because they know they can't actually do much harm for the most part, because vampires heal fast and can't be easily hurt. But when... idk, you drop your fledgling from an extreme height, or cut someone's ankles and have them buried in rocks and locked away in a mausoleum... that's actually trying to hurt them (as Lestat admitted.)

And Louis' attempt to kill Lestat was because he and Claudia feared him. None of them disagree with that fact.

Anyway, have the same grace for the Black man that you do for your brat prince. Idk why y'all are trying to make Louis the bad guy. He never even asked to be a vampire. Lestat just wanted to keep him.

[thot-writes]

i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

-

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

-

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

[scoops-aboy86]

Here, have an au drabble with always-a-girl Stevie Harrington and her boyfriend (husband?) being absolutely roasted by Max and their own dumbassery. Inspired by all the fics where Steddie open condoms with their teeth and a part of me cringes—even though, like, that’s probably accurate to the 80s, idek. 🤦‍♀️

”What?” Stevie says blankly. She resettles the baby in her arms, switching him to her other breast before he makes her feel lopsided—the mouth on this kid, just like his daddy. Who is on the other side of the room, frozen in the doorway with the tray of snacks she’d requested. 

“What?” Max parrots back, nonplussed by Stevie’s confusion. “You didn’t know? You seriously—“ and, fuck, she’s starting to smirk now, the little shit “—really didn’t know?”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, voice cracking and everything. His already big eyes are widened to maximum capacity, fixed on Stevie and their son and her baby bump that’s just starting to show with the next rugrat on the way, because apparently—

“Yes I’m sure,” Max nearly shrieks, lowering her voice just in time that little James doesn’t start fussing. “You’re not supposed to open condom wrappers with your teeth because the latex is right there too! Christ, how are you two considered functioning adults?”

Stevie’s face feels so hot, she’s sure she must look like a tomato right now. A tomato that hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in months and is ‘glowing’ from a morning spent praying out her morning sickness to the porcelain god. And like, don’t get her wrong, she’s happy with her life, she always wanted to be a mom… but neither pregnancy had been exactly planned.

They’d always wrapped up before sex, so it had never occurred to her that she should double up by getting on birth control or something. 

Her eyes meet Eddie’s, and they’re both looking at each other sheepish as hell because holy shit. Holy shit. 

“We can’t ever tell them,” Stevie says. 

“Never,” Eddie agrees faintly, finally approaching with her snacks. (About damn time, she thinks impatiently as she reaches for a pickle, shock and chagrin notwithstanding.) “Robin will never let us hear the end of it. And Dustin—oh my god, can you imagine the lecture? The little shit would bring visual goddamn aids!”

Stevie covers the baby’s ears with the burp cloth she’s going to have to move back to her shoulder in a minute and hisses, “Eds, I meant the babies!”

“Dustin’s kind of like a baby,” Max snickers. “You’ll have to call these ones the twins. Irish twins, y’know? For clarity.”

Meanwhile, “Don’t look at me like that,” Eddie begs Stevie with a wince. “My hand to god, I’ll never try to be sexy again!”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” she shoots back. “When I told you I daydreamed as a kid about having six, I didn’t mean it as a fucking sprint!”

Privately, she doesn’t entirely mean it. Sure, preparing for an infant when already in possession of one is a lot, but she can’t say she’s as put out as everyone keeps expecting her to be about an immediate round two of putting on baby weight. Eddie had been going crazy over her curves during the two minutes or so each week they actually have time and energy to take times for themselves, and personally she’s convinced her tits have never looked better. Still…

“You’re right about Robin and Dustin though,” she admits, turning to Max and steeling herself for negotiations. “How much to keep your mouth shut?”

Permanent tag list:

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[zwolfgames]

Goblin camp overtake (drabble) Platonic!Yandere!BG3 x Teen!Reader

(Hopefully it's a bit accurate because ive only played the story twice for now so i dunno all the posibilities.)

Summary: Teen!reader and the squad go take defeat the goblins. Therefore meeting Halsin, and Minthara again.

Warnings: Death (obv), mentions of gore, Goblins

Other related BG3 by me: Intro

The sun was shining, the flowers in the forest were blooming... On days like this, kids like you had been tasked with commuting genocide on the local goblins.

Not that you really cared. They were little shitheads... Stole your laundry once back when you lived with your mom... before all this...

But getting closer to this alleged camp wasn't making you any more at ease. You could already imagine the stench of those sweaty creatures when you have to inevitably walk into that camp. Which you've heard is actually just an old temple.

You've noticed over time that people in your little group have gotten... well, friendlier. For example: Lae'zel was no longer throwing you glares, Shadowheart remembered your name, Astarion has indoctrinated you into his schemes... Yea, the three most hostile people had warmed up to you.

And the other have just... always been quite nice.

Well, Wyll still didn't seem to approve of you, a minor, coming along. But he didn't really have a choice as the others were not allowing him to take you back to the Emerald Grove. Guess they really do find you too funny to lose then.

"Ugh, the stench is disgusting." Karlach waves the air under her nose away.

"It is the smell of a goblin camp. What were you expecting? Tchk. And I myself find this odor quite thrilling. It promises of a good fight." Lae'zel slightly smirks. Clawed hands flexing around the handle of her greatsword.

"Of course you do... Tough the smell of blood has never scared me away." Astarion, in turn, chuckles in that weird posh way. You raise a brow.

"So you're sure you're not a vampire?" You question sarcastically. The pale elf gasps in mock offense.

"Of course not. I merely like the smell." He huffs. Right, so that time you saw him hunt down a boar must have been make belief.

The rest of the party didn't comment anymore as you made your way to the camp.

Gale had thrown his arm around your shoulder to keep you at the back. He excused that as 'magic users stay behind so they can asses the battlefield'. But he probably just didn't want to accidently get Lae'zels sword through his back.

This mission to save some druid calmed Halsin was looking like a total hassle. But hey, why not do side quests while the worm in your head is ready to kill you?

Whatever person lives in your head didn't take kindly to your remark as you heard the voice say they'd protect you.

Right, bullshit. You're just developing pshycosis. A hundred percent that.

"Y/N. If they target you, I want you to run, alright?" Wyll speaks calmly.

"Well, I mean, not that I don't want to but were kind of in this together -" You start nonchalantly.

"Don't listen to the human. It is unhonerable to run from a fight." Lae'zel scolds like a lecturing general.

Well, do you really care about your honor? It's not like you're trying to capture the Avatar here-

"Yea yea, got it, boss." You sigh. The slight stress makes its way to your head. It's just some goblins, right? Nothing a good magic missile can't solve... Right?

You take back your words quite quickly when Astarion smooth talks his way past the outside security to let your group pass. There's like... at least fifty goblins here!

You feel an arm slitter around your shoulders. Looking up, you can see Lae'zels warry face.

She's gripping that greatsword quite harshly, a bit scared, maybe? Tough you doubt it, it's Lae'zel..

You ignore the stink eyes these little creatures are throwing you and walk along with your group.

"My, what a festive place, no? Look, they even have booze." Astarion muses with his typical smug grin.

"We're not here to party." Gale groans. The wizard stares at the goblins in distaste. You note that everyone is on edge

A goblin child sticks her tingue out at you, so you do the same, blowing raspberries for good meassure. This action earns you a dissaproving look by Wyll.

"So where's this druid? I don't want to be here any longer then needed." Shadowheart complains with a little wave infront of her nose to showcase that she thinks this place stinks.. Wich it does.

"Let's ask!" Karlach offers her idea.

"You've got to be the most optimistic person I've met and we have a literal child in the group." Gale groans.

"You can't miss any of the chances you take." Karlach shrugs.

"Let's just gut all of them. I'm sure we can search for the druid in peace then." Astarion smirks.

"For once, I agree with the pale one." Lae'zel sneers.

You watch your group bicker a bit longer as you wander out of the grip you had been put in. Walking around the goblin camp instead.

Mhh, a clear booze tub. They're drunk. Quite ideal.

You scan around the area, a certain tall woman catches your eye, seeing as she isn't a goblin.

Wait a minute, you've met her before! She almost killed you on the beach when the Nautiloid crashed!

The nerve of that woman, she doesn't deserve the same hairstyle as your mother.

Astarion had snuk out of the argument your group of idiots was having right in the middle of the goblin camp. He stuck himself to your side, observing along with you.

"You seem... focussed. You have an idea, do you not?" The pale elf asks smoothly.

"An inkling. They're drinking, and Nettie gave us wyvern poison... I mean...?" You let your gaze travel to the booze tub. Astarions red eyed orbs follow along. You can see a sharp toothed grin spread across his face.

"I just know we're going to be great friends, Y/N.." He smirks and puts a cold hand on your shoulder.

You just smile in satisfaction that your plan is apparently good. Before you know it, Astarions snatched the poison out of Shadowhearts pocket. You watch the man go invisible to presumably go dunk the booze in poison. Or maybe he's gonna drink it... But he never seemed suicidal... So it should be fine.

"Y/N, c'mon, we're going into the temple, the druid should be there." Karlach waves you over.

You nod and join the group again. Getting tucked back under someone's shoulder.

The first leader of the Goblins you had met was a priestess. And oh boy, defenitly not your favourite... She wanted to brand you! Is she nuts!?

So anyways, Lae'zel chopped her head off... Uh... props to Wyll for covering your eyes.

Then there was Dror Ragzlin. Scary guy that one. Almost twice your size, mean face and doing necromancy. Yikes.

Unfortunatly, you did have to help in this fight. There were goblins storming in through the door and well just that beast of an orc.

So you you just started blasting spells at the incoming goblins. Fireball and Ice Knife were a nice combo, no? Make em slip and then steam the ice and do damage? Sounds logical to you. Was anyone else smelling barbeque or just you?

When that got taken care of, Karlach strapped a helmet to your head and lead you back to the group.

The last leader was the same woman that had tried to kill you. Minthara, apparently. You've never seen a real drow, so this was cool. Except for the part where she tried to kill all of you. That wasn't that cool...

Just before she was supposed to just die, Lae'zel had accidently hit one of the wooden beams in the room. The ceiling collapsed right infront of you.

Well, maybe she's dead? Atleast it's not your problem anymore?

After all the goblins inside had straight up been slayed, Astarion joined the group once more, seeming quite pleased with himself.

"Where have you been?" Gale asks sternly. Raising an eyebrow in suspiscion. It's still quite annoying that nobody really trusts anyone here..

"Let's just say the situation outside is taken care off." Astarion boasts proudly.

"Really? And you did that, alone?" Shadowheart states in a disbelieving tone. Gods forbid the fancy man does anything impressive.

"Yes! Is that so hard to believe?" Astarion scoffs and crosses his arms.

"Very." Shadowheart argues back.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Lae'zel adds.

Wyll and Karlach just exchange glances. Well you know that he did it. So there's no need for your input-

"Ahhh!" You eep in fear as a large man had appeared behind you. Wich is very scary considering every one in this temple was supposed to be dead.

"Calm down little cub, I mean no harm." The large man smiles reasuringly.

You stagger back to Lae'zels side. This man... Elf ears.. Brown hair. Ah, druid attire? Halsin, perhaps?

"And who are you?" Shadowheart asks for all of you.

"Halsin. You were sent here to come chack on me, or are you just lost adventurers?" Halsin asks with that same smile.

"Well, we found him. Back to the grove-" Gale starts walking off before Karlach grabs the rim of his robes to keep him in the group.

"We did come here for you. Have the goblins hurt you?" Wyll asks calmly. Halsin shakes his head.

"Nothing I can't handle. Why the cub?" Halsin tilts his head at you.

"They're actually an immortal being in the form of a child. Wiser then any of us." Astarion makes up.

Halsin raises a brow. Clearly not believing that.

"Right. But like your little wizard said, we should get back. I am sure the grove has missed me." Halsin hums.

"Don't think so, they're closing it off frol the outside world." You mention calmly.

"What." Halsin stops smiling. You just shrug, that's all you picked up from it.

Halsin frowns and starts walking out. What determination.

Your group eventually exits the dead silent temple after having taken any valuables. Can't leave without some loot, who knows if you're getting paid!

As you walk out the large door, the death Astarion had caused is quite visible, dead goblins everywhere. R.I.P, you won't be missed.

Now that that's taken care of, who knows what adventures await you thanks to this stupid worm in your brain!

Not the best, but it's something. Yan feelings gotta develop trough the story but I'm not fully there yet.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Cw: mention of suicide (not graphic), (vague) mentions of torture

Vamp!ghost in a pure silver muzzle so he can't prey on anyone.

He got turned and muzzled by human!Roba because the torture got so bad that he killed himself, and Roba couldn't have that, so he had him bit. By vernon.

The sadistic bastard was stoked to be able to keep Ghost around a little longer as his "play thing"

The muzzle, little more than a cage for his face, was five horizontal bars with one bisecting the center vertically. At the base of the mask where it sat on his mandable was a hinge, so it could expand and contract because Roba still wanted him able to talk and scream, like the sick fuck he is.

It burned and bubbled and hissed as it seared onto his face, melting the skin so it would cling to the metal when it "healed"

With Ghost's newfound immortality Roba was able to have so much more "fun" with him. He kept him for years, cutting him open whenever he felt like it, just "to see what's going on in there". Branding him with silver to "see what it does" (like he didn't already fucking know). Starving him for months on end. And the muzzle never once came off. When he did get it was through a straw that he was graciously given a single pint of blood.

Then he got bored. And he threw him away. And still the muzzle wasn't removed.

No not thrown away. Buried. In a load of shit. In the desert. One last experiment. To see what Ghost could withstand. He was doomed to burn to death, and even then it was to starve for eternity, or drink through a straw for the rest of his life. He sure as hell wouldn't be getting the muzzle off himself.

One good thing he learned through all this. How far he could break before he truely broke.

Roba locked him in Vernon's reinforced casket, and threw away the key. It took two days of nonstop beating at the wood before he got out, even with the help of the deceased vampire's jaw.

It took 3 days of hiding, and 4 nights of running at inhuman speeds to find the nearest army base.

He also found out that to say he was "starved" wasn't exactly accurate, but there was no other way to describe it. How else you do describe a lack of a need to eat, and yet feeling your body weaken just the same. How else do you explain the feeling of his body using up the blood in him. The way his heart never beats so he needs new blood to replace what has been absorbed or turned into waste, later to be released as venom. What word do you use to describe that othern than "starved", but it's an inhuman kind of starvation, so completely NOT human.

When price found him he was sucking his fifth stolen blood bag dry. He truely was "starved" after so long of not feeding.

The man said he was putting together a task force with the help and authority of a CIA agent. The man, Captain Price introduced him to a dryad, a nature spirit.

It's unusual for a spirits and sprites, especially ones so close to nature, to be in such a violent line of work. But here he was, nonetheless.

Price himself was a normal human, it's the only way the force was allowed to come into fruition.

Ghost was taken to a medic, to see if they could remove the constant burning silver from his face. But it was no use, the doctors said their tools were too soft to ceable to cut into his skin to remove the muzzle. And so there was nothing they could do, short of ripping the thing off, which would only cause more damage, and they didn't have the manpower to do so anyway.

So he stayed in the muzzle, donned a mask to avoid sun exposure, and price made sure to keep a constant stock of blood packs for him, even if sometimes he was reduced to dumping dehydrated pigs' blood into a glass of water, price made sure he was never "hungry" again.

Then price found soap. A natural born werewolf, he said. And he was all rambunctious and happy-go-lucky energy, or that's what it seemed like on the outside. Then Ghost learned that he was a sniper and demolitions specialist, with a wicked memory, and a background intense anti-interrogation training, and he has to wonder how much is for show.

It's only after they defeat hassan that soap asks about it. The muzzle. He knows he saw it when he removed him mask in Las Almas, but he said nothing about it, not did Ghost offer anything.

Soap says he thinks he can get the muzzle off, but they'll need to take leave, head back to his home. Ghost isn't sure how he likes the sound of that. He does want the burning silver off, but he's pretty sure he's heard that wolves and blood suckers weren't exactly friends. And while he's already dead, he can still be killed, and he definitely can't survive an entire pack of wolves (sans one)

Soap says it'll be fine, he'll vouch and/or protect(?) Him. Price encourages him to go, says he can finally get the stupid cage off. And gaz is laughing his ass off at his predicament, and just generally being unhelpful.

A phone call home to Mama Mactavish, explaining the situation had Ghost reluctantly agreeing to go, if only to appeasethe frantic woman. Soap requested 3 months medical leave for both of them, and price easily signed off on it, practically pushing them out the door.

Soap's home was nice, a fair bit or farmland with a large home that just seemed to radiate comfort.

Mama Mactavish was first to meet them at the door with a fresh batch of homemade danishes, she pulled them both into a bone crushing hug and ushered them inside. She didn't even flinch at the sight of the muzzle or the horribly "scarred" skin underneath or his fangs.

Simon wasn't so sure what to think about that, he'd never had this kind of kindness before. He didn't hate it. Everyone else was almost as friendly, and he couldn't tell if it was a pack of anomalies, or if the rumors were false. They even had fresh lambs' blood for him, warmed to perfection.

He and Johnny were given a day to rest and settle in, then they were being woken at the crack of dawn, to start collecting herbs and begin preparations. Mama explained that it was a family secret, so she swore him to secrecy.

He supposed it only made sense for a family of werewolves to know how to treat silver burns.

She put Johnny to work making so sort of... salve (us that what you call it? He wasn't sure), then mama had donned a pair of gloves and had him lay down with his head in her lap, she started massaging the salve into his skin around the muzzle.

It was slow work, and took hours to make even a small bit of progress, but progress it was. As more and more of the silver lifted, Johnny helped slide gauze underneath to prevent it from burning back on.

It took all day and most of the night to finally be able to lift the muzzle off, but Mama never once complained.

Simon thanked her profusely, and would be forever indebted to her, but she just waived him off.

A week later the wounds were still trying to heal over, and he knew by the end of their leave there would be little more than a faint scar over near-perfect skin.

There was one night that Johnny had joined him sitting out on the porch. One unable to sleep, and one who would never sleep again.

"Why did you help me?" It'd been running through his head since they arrived. "You hardly knew me."

"I know you enough." Johnny chuckled, knocking their shoulders together.

"But why?" He still didn't understand.

"You know what it's like to have the words 'echoic memory' on your file? I do. It's why I took all that extra training, put it to use a few times too. But nothing could have prepared me for being force-fed silver." Johnny shivered with a faraway look in his eyes. "The pain lasted months. I couldn't be active for nine months. I can only imagine what it must've been like to live with that on your face for years."

"Thank you."

Johnny nodded.

They spent the rest of the night there on the porch, at some point Johnny fell asleep on Simon, and Mama found them early in the morning.

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

Sakamaki Brothers as Dads Headcanons!

This is in the context of their character development in later games, but I'm still going to try to be accurate to their personalities and try not to over-soften or idealize them

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

Shu:

--------

- Shu struggled to find a balance between gentle discipline and guidance and freedom for his kids, he didn't want them suffocated like he was

- While he's there to help and support, he believes they should learn to work things out on their own. He's not neglectful of their problems but he's a little less hands-on in that regard

- Instead of solving things for them he works with them so they can learn to solve things on their own

- He keeps an eye of them without getting too involved physically like while they're playing or in public

- Though he'll love all his kids equally he really wanted a girl after centuries of being the older brother to 5 brothers

- Though he wants them to be able to take care of themselves, Shu is very protective of them

- He's generally very calm, even when angry

- He'll probably adopt a kitten or puppy for them to raise with him

- When they're young he lets them nap on his chest

Reiji:

--------

- Strict, but warm and gentle

- He makes sure to give each of his kids equal attention as to not let history repeat itself

- He also wants to prevent his children from having that same animosity and resentment he felt/feels with Shu

- If he managed to make some sort of peace with Shu he'll be okay with them interacting

- He'll take them into the woods and help them take care of and interact with animals

- He's adamant that they'll be vampires, not half-vampire, half-human, so he will absolutely turn his s/o into a vampire. No discussion

- Teaches them what he knows but also helps indulge them in their interests

- Kisses their forehead or heads

- Will check for monsters under the bed or in the closet, but won't let them sleep in bed with him and his s/o, he'll just reassure them there's no monster and give them a nightlight

- They can still hang out with him and his and his s/o's bed just not sleep there overnight

Ayato:

---------

- He's the fun dad

- But also sometimes the really embarrassing dad

- His son's playing a sport? He's losing his mind in the stands

- His daughter's the lead in a musical? He's clapping obnoxiously and bragging to EVERYONE

- Literally brags about every single one of his children's achievements

- Also the parent with the belief of his children can do no wrong. Like he'll argue with the teacher if one of his kids gets a bad grade

- He was really excited when you got pregnant

- But was secretly really worried

- He kind of idealized it at first, underestimating the difficulties of raising a kid and how much work infants are

- Was legitimately surprised at how long it would take for them to walk or talk

- At first he was entirely against any sort of discipline because he didn't know what discipline was, he didn't know you could be a good loving parent and discipline your child without mistreatment or abuse

- As far as he knew, discipline was abuse

- Very protective and possessive, especially with his daughter/s

- Sometimes fights with his kids over his s/o's attention or the last bite of food

- He'll always give them to last bite of food

Kanato:

----------

- He loves them the way he loves his s/o, it's genuine love but it's also very possessive love. He loves them as possessions

- Kanato can be surprisingly verbally loving in the games so he'll be like that with his kids, giving them compliments and telling them how much they mean to him like he does with Yui

- He'll stroke their hair and have tea parties

- They can't have Teddy but they can touch and talk to him

- He'll make them their own stuffed animal and they'll be allowed to name them Teddy Junior if they want to

- Kanato really likes dressing up his daughter/s like pretty dolls, he'll get disappointed if she doesn't like it but may come to tolerate/accept that's not who she is

- Not very interested in changing diapers, but will be present there, just not doing the actual action, more support and company

- He does hold them and rock them and he will take over so his s/o gets rest

- Extremely possessive. They are his and s/o's only. He's not even happy that they're related to his brothers

- If he has a good enough relationship with his brothers though he may tolerate them interacting

Laito:

----------

- He was excited to be a dad, but really worried

- Laito was sure to properly teach his children love

- Laito was really wary of who he allowed his kids to be near or alone with. He got it into his head that any adult might try to hurt or abuse them and for a while he was insanely over-protective

- He hated letting them out of his sight and even into their teenage years he had familiars following them

- A really playful dad

- Surprisingly good at discipline. Never in an abusive way of course, but he's surprisingly good at it and willing to teach them to behave

- Hates the idea of his daughter/s getting a boyfriend

- He will allow his children to play dress up with him, paint his nails, etc

- He'll play toys with them

- He's actually a very responsible father and all his brothers were really surprised

Subaru:

-----------

- Subaru started out TERRIFIED

- How could he possibly be a good parent? His parents weren't and he still thinks he's a horrible monster

- Finally agrees to get therapy for his anger issues

- He was at first terrified to touch or hold his first child after they were born because he was scared he'd pollute them

- All his kids after that he was able to hold and interact with because he was able to get over that fear

- He turned out to be quite the natural

- Fiercly protective

- Still a bit of a tsundere, but is very open with his love

- Can barely resist their begging or cute little pleading faces

- Like Laito he often sends his familiars after them and doesn't like them being out of his sight, especially as children

- Loved taking care of them as babies, he found bathing and feeding and rocking them really relaxing

- It reminded him of all the good and love in the world and he never wanted his children to feel unloved by him

- Lets them cling onto his arms and he'll lift his arm to hold them up

- Puts his hand on their heads affectionately

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

I hope you like this!

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated my loves ❤️❤️❤️

Mukami Brothers Version 👇🏻

[brucewaynehater101]

Who's more terrifying as a villain? Dick or Tim? Considering both have their own powerful friends willing to turn to the dark side or are already part of the dark side? And how both would ultimately follow each other to the dark side?

That heavily depends on a variety of factors.

Also, forewarning this is probably not canon accurate ⚠️ This is just how I interpret these questions. I am mostly ignoring Gun Batman and Vampire!Dick

You are correct about the friends part. Dick and Tim have tons of connections to people who will support them regardless of the side they are on and/or if the ally is already on the dark side.

Now, whether or not people would join either of them depends on how the Bat asks their possible ally. I do not predict either to turn evil just for the hell of it, but a ton of their allies probably wouldn't join them unless the Bat was trying to help people (in a convulted way which classifies them as a villain).

Tim, if asked (and maybe if not asked too) would join Dick. 100%. Whether or not he's actually on Dick's side depends on a few factors: how evil is Dick initially acting and what's their current relationship like.

Bottom line, there's an over 80% chance that Tim is joining Dick's path to evil.

Dick, on the other hand, would probably join Tim. The factors needed are more, however. Dick wants what's best for Tim. If he was convinced that the path Tim was on would hurt the younger brother or cause him pain, he would try to steer Tim off of it. If Tim attacked other family members, Dick would stand against him.

While Tim wants the same things for Dick, he also fully, to a fault, trusts Dick to make the right decisions and would default to his judgment (for Dick being the villain). Therefore, as long as the harm done to the other family members isn't extreme and there seems to be a reason (even if Tim doesn't know what it is), he would either stay out of Dick's way or help him.

Dick is Tim's hero and older brother. Tim is Dick's little brother. Dick was an adult when they formed permanent meaningful bonds. Therefore, their responsibilities and roles in the relationship are drastically different. That does play a role in this scenario.

Let's classify what they would be like as villains.

Neither of them actually need people on their side to enact their plans, and neither would have issues gaining allies. They would still need people in general.

Tim would probably have a mental breakdown and unnecessarily sacrifice himself if he didn't have anyone to rely on.

Dick needs to feel loved and cared for. He needs that reassurance from someone as he loves and care for them. He would become too depressed and sloppy without it.

Both of them are intelligent, charming, and manipulative people (not necessarily in a bad way).

Tim, as a villain, would use more remote options. He can, and would, get his hands dirty, but he would subtly manipulate technology, people, and the situation to have his plans (or backup plans) fall into place. He would lose a battle if he knew it would win him something else.

Tim is terrifying to me because you wouldn't know if you actually caught/stopped him or if, by stopping him, you're just helping him instead.

There's also his ability to make disguises that would make tying his crimes to him more difficult.

Dick, on the other hand, would get right into the issue personally. He'd still manipulate and strategize, but he's also in-person charming everyone. He'd disarm people and make them naturally trust him (even if he's not smooth. It's the way he seems so real, genuine, and personal that hooks people in).

He could also convince people to do shit for him where the other person believes they are doing the action for the right reason.

So, who's more terrifying?

It depends on whether Tim can be stopped or will listen to reason. If not, he's absolutely taking over the world.

But, Dick Grayson will get his shit accomplished. He will not be stopped. I fully believe he will succeed unless he doesn't want to.

Let's put it this way:

Tim will have drastic impact on the entire world (mostly other villains and civilians)

Dick will also obliterate the entire hero community just with him "switching sides" (not to mention if Dick actually put effort into harming them)

I don't know if this makes sense, but basically Dick Grayson is scarier under most circumstances

Feel free to send in an ask, reblog, or comment if you agree, disagree, or have more to say on any of this!

[ramblingoak]

The Repugnant

Chapter Two: Setting Sail

Read Chapter One / Check out amazing art by @foxybouquet HERE

Your father always warned you that you were too curious for your own good. After hearing rumors of the pirate ship The Repugnant in the area you snuck out of your father's villa to try and get a peek at the dreaded pirate and his crew of monsters. But what happens when Captain Mary Goore gets a peek of you first?

Mary Goore x Female Reader

Warnings: vampire!pirate!Mary Goore and special appearances by Copia and Terzo, vampire shenanigans, horror, violence, no one is dead but they're not exactly alive either so ye be warned, um canon accurate Terzo?, nsfw 18+only mdni, 2,500 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the banner, collage and dividers!)

Your blood was on fire.

Mary had spent a few moments licking over your pulse, chuckling at your continued pleas to let you go.  At the first touch of their fangs your knees went weak and Mary settled more firmly against you to keep you upright.  The pain was blinding, making your mouth open in a silent cry as it seemed to build and build.  You had never felt pain like this before, never felt anything like this before.  Your hands clawed at Mary’s back but it was no use.

You were going to die in this alley.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind Mary pulled away.  You couldn’t stop the whimper that left you as his fangs pulled out of your neck.  Despite his bite only going on for a handful of moments it felt odd not to have them there anymore.  Like you were empty almost.  The feeling scared you, your mind wandering to the stories your nanny had told you about those that fell under a vampire’s thrall.

“A thrall?!”  Mary’s head whipped up, their eyes brighter than any ruby you had ever seen and their smile wide and dripping with your blood.  “That’s adorable.  Do you wanna be my thrall, little starfish?”

“I don’t want to be your anything.”

“You say that now but I bet I’ll change your mi–shit!”

Mary doubled over when you jammed your knee into his crotch.  Their grip lessened enough that you were able to shove them down onto the mist covered ground and escape past them.  You stumbled across the uneven cobblestones, desperate to at least get to the street.  If you got there you’d have a better chance of getting away and hopefully either finding somewhere to hide or one of your father’s soldiers.  

As you reached the end of the alley the mist became thicker and nearly impossible to see through.  Mary shouted behind you and you dared a look back right as you reached the street.  The only thing you could see were his red eyes glaring at you from the mist and you knew that would be something that would haunt your dreams for years.  You gasped when your foot got caught on a stone and you stumbled, bracing yourself to land hard on the ground except the ground never came.

“Steady now, ragazza.”  

The heavily accented voice drifted over you as you tried to steady yourself in the man’s grip.  You looked up to thank him, expecting to see a soldier but your words froze in your throat.  

There was nothing there.

“Wh-what…”  You tried to pull away from whatever had a hold of you but the grip was firm and a chill began to creep up your arms.  “Let me go!”    

“Yeah, Copia,”  Another chill ran through you but this had more to do with the monster now standing at your back.  “Let go of my snack.”

“You were supposed to bring her to the ship, idiota.”

“I’m working on it.”  Mary wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against their chest.  “Just got a little sidetracked is all.  Did her daddy get the note?”

“Sì, Phantom left it on his front door.”  

The hold on your arms finally disappeared and you quickly wrapped them around your waist.  Behind you Mary laughed and you whimpered when you felt their breath on the wound they left on your neck.

“What’s the matter, starfish?  Never seen a ghost before?”  Your eyes searched the mist before you, trying to make sense of what was happening.  A ghost?  “You have to focus now.  Just watch.”

As Mary spoke the mist before you seemed to get thicker, swirling and concentrating until it began to resemble a figure.  Your eyes trailed up from the cobblestones, taking in the man that was seemingly appearing from nothing.  He was still not entirely there, the building behind him visible through his body.  The only things that seemed solid about him were his green and white eyes and right now they were focused on you.  

“Ciao, bella.”

“Hey!”  Mary slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you securely against their chest.  “None of that, she’s mine.”

“I just said hello!”

“Yeah but that’s how it always starts.”

The ghost, Copia, rolled his eyes but you could see a hint of a smirk on his face.   

“We need to go.”  Copia took a few steps back, his form briefly disappearing into the mist before he was visible again.  “Before the spell wears off preferably.”

“Where are you taking me?”  You tried to dig your heels in but Mary was too strong, easily pulling you along as they began to walk down the street.  Ahead of you Copia’s eyes appeared off and on but he seemed mostly concerned with if anyone was following you.  “Are you…can I go back home?”

“Nope!  Someplace even better.”

Fighting was useless so you let Mary pull you through the streets.  There was random shouting around but you never caught sight of anyone else.  Occasionally Copia would disappear completely only to come back with blood dripping from a very real looking sword in his hand.  So many questions were building up inside of you but you kept your mouth shut until you finally saw your destination.

The Repugnant.

“No!”  You shoved at Mary with all your might, kicking at him when they lifted you into the air.  “Let me go!”

“Sorry, starfish.  You’re stuck with us for a while.”  Mary grunted when your foot connected with their knee, letting go of you with a curse.  “Copia!  Take her!”

You quickly looked up from where you had fallen onto the street, your eyes immediately meeting those of the ghost.  The moon peeked through the clouds and you were able to make out more of his face.  Hair that was blowing wildly around his head despite no breeze around, sideburns and then a mustache perched over a smug grin.

“Mi dispiace, bella.  Captain’s orders.”  

All the fight left you then and you didn’t say a word when the strange cold hands lifted you up onto your feet.  There was no telling what they’d do to you if you kept fighting them.  At least for now it seemed they were trying to get something from your father so perhaps you were safe for the time being.  You turned your head to look at Mary, shivering when you saw their ruby gaze on you.  The bite throbbed under his stare and you couldn’t help but press one of your hands over the still bleeding wound.

Maybe safe wasn’t the best word to use.

Mary started stalking towards you, their eyes glued onto your neck.  You shivered when they reached a hand out to pull yours away from the bite wound.  Copia muttered something behind you and Mary jerked their head towards the ship.  Mary’s grip tightened on your hand as the ghost disappeared, leaving only cold air behind you.

“Are you going to behave, little starfish?”  When you nodded weakly Mary smiled and licked their lips.  “Good.  I’d hate to have to tie you up.”  Mary brought your hand close to their face, sniffing at your skin briefly.  To your horror they stuck their tongue out and lapped at the blood that had gotten on your hand.  “Has anyone ever told you how good you taste?”

“Please…I’m sure my father would pay anything you asked for to get me back.”

“Oh I’m counting on it.”  They laughed when you tried to tug your hand away, holding it even tighter.  “On second thought maybe I should tie you up.  Drink my fill of you while you can’t do anything about it.”

“No!”

“No?  You don’t like that idea?”  Mary grinned and yanked you against them, one hand slipping around your waist and resting low on your back.  “You’re right, it’ll be more fun to have you put up a fight.”

Their mouth descended on your neck again but instead of teeth you just felt the wet strokes of Mary’s tongue.  They lapped at your neck slowly, cleaning up the blood that was quickly drying in the night air.  You let yourself go limp against them, silent tears streaming down your face while they worked. 

What would become of you on Mary’s ship?  Was it full of more ghosts like Copia?  Or were there worse things on board, things that you’d only be able to imagine in your nightmares.  Would Mary drink from you again? 

Oh don’t worry, starfish.  I’ll be tasting you again.

You froze when Mary’s voice drifted through your head, looking at him in alarm when he straightened up to meet your eyes.  When you started shaking your head Mary just laughed before starting down the dock towards the ship, dragging you along behind them.  You couldn’t help but stare at the ship in awe as they tugged you towards it.  The tall black sails disappeared into the night sky but you could just make out the jolly roger flag billowing in the wind.  Mary stopped at the edge of the gangplank, a bright grin on their face while they reached up to cup your cheek.

“Soon you'll be begging for it.”

The deck of the ship was chaotic.

You found yourself hiding your face against Mary’s shoulder, scared to see what was around you.  There were shouts, snarls, growls…sounds that you had never even heard before.  You couldn’t even imagine what they might belong to.  It was almost a relief when you heard Copia’s voice.

“Are you putting her in your cabin?”

“No, she’ll be too distracting.”  Mary wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lifted your chin up with a single finger.  “She can stay with your brother.”

“Terzo isn’t going to like that.”

“Yeah?  Well Terzo is in no position to dictate what I do on my ship.”  The vampire poked the tip of your nose before addressing you.   “You don’t mind hanging out with Terzo, do ya starfish?”

“Wh-what is Terzo?”

“Ah, he’s mostly harmless.”  Mary tugged at your shoulder and started leading you towards the stairs that led into the ship’s belly.  “Honestly it’s probably the safest place on my ship.  Hard to say what the others might be tempted to do to you.”

“What are…”  You dared a look around you, freezing when your eyes landed on something that could only be described as a giant insect.  The creature cocked their head and blinked at you before a set of wings spread out behind them and they took off into the air.  “I think I’m going to faint.”

“Don’t worry, starfish.  They might be tempted but they know not to touch you.”  Mary continued to lead you through the inside of the ship, past various doors until they stopped before one at the end of the passageway.  “Only I get to do that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Come on, we both know that’s not true.”  They began to move closer, crowding you back against the wall.  It was beginning to be overwhelming having them this close.  All you could think about was their tongue on your skin and their teeth in your neck.  Mary pushed their head up close, their lips grazing your cheek when they spoke.  “It sure feels like you enjoy it when I touch you.”

“That’s a lie!”

Mary easily blocked your knee and grabbed your hands when you tried to hit him.  You felt like crying when they spun you around to face the door to the cabin.

“There’s no use lying to me, I can already feel your emotions.”  They lowered their head and licked across the bite wound, their chest vibrating with laughter when you whimpered.  “Just imagine what I’ll be able to do when I get an even better taste.”

Mary had the cabin door open before you could think of an answer, shoving you inside roughly before slamming it closed.  You took a few tentative steps as your eyes adjusted to the dark room, nervously looking around for whoever or whatever Terzo was.  The small window barely let any moonlight in so you could just make out a bed, a dresser and a table with a couple chairs.  There were a few items on top of the dresser, one almost looked like a mannequin head but you were too scared to get any closer.  When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimness you were able to make out what looked to be a figure sitting in one of the chairs in the far corner.

“H-hello?”  You gripped your dress skirts in your hands to try to stop them from shaking.  “Terzo?”

“Buonasera, dolcezza.”  Your head jerked over to the dresser, startled when the voice seemed to come from there instead of the chair.  “Mi dispiace, I would have cleaned up if I had known I was going to have a guest.”

“I’m not a guest.”  It was hard to keep the venom from your voice but you couldn’t help it.  You looked back at the chair when the legs moved, one leg elegantly crossing over the other as you watched.  “I’m a prisoner.”

“Ah, so the Captain was successful then.  Bene, molto bene.”

“Yes, he kidnapped me.  Him and that ghost.”

“So you met mio fratello then?  Quite the sight isn’t he?”  Terzo laughed then and you nervously glanced towards the dresser top again.  “What you can see of him anyway.”

“Are you a ghost too?”

“Un fantasma?  Oh no dolcezza, I’m as solid as they come.”  

A horrible tingling sensation started crawling over your skin as you watched the figure in the chair straighten up.  There was something off about it but it was too dark to get a good look.  You couldn’t help but take a step back when they got up and began to walk towards the dresser.  The sparse moonlight caught the figure and when you finally realized what was wrong about them your jaw dropped.  

“You…you…”  

You couldn’t even get the words to leave your mouth as the horrific sight before you started to make sense.  No, not sense, nothing on this ship made any damned sense.  The sound of a match being struck filled the room and when you got a better look at Terzo as he lit some candles you stumbled back until you hit the door of the room.  The knob rattled uselessly in your hand, locked and unwilling to turn.

“Is everything ah, okie dokie, dolcezza?”  Terzo finished with the candles and then held the match out to the mannequin head.  You jumped when a face was briefly lit up in the light before the match flame was blown out.  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“How are you…”  Your vision started to swim as Terzo picked up the head, his head, casually holding it in his hands at his waist.  “But that’s your…”

“Sì, I’m afraid my head got separated from the rest of me.”  Terzo lifted his head up higher, close to where it should be on his neck.  “I’d almost rather be a ghost to be honest.  Or un mostro.  What do you think, dolcezza?” 

Terzo thrust his head your way then, his lips turned up in a bright grin.  You barely were able to make out his features before the room began to get dark again.  As your knees buckled and you fell to the floor you could have sworn you heard Mary’s voice in your head...

Sleep tight, starfish.

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[theresattrpgforthat]

Games with an atypical division of Player/GM responsibilities? For example, in Fellowship, the players have final say in lore/world building questions, not the GM. (Not counting GMless games, which have atypical GM duties by default)

Alternatively, if that's too niche: any games explicitly designed for rotating GMs and/or 'West Marches' style campaigns.

THEME: Unique Player Responsibilities / Rotating GMs

Hello there! I hope to do your ask justice, although I feel more at home talking about the first half of your question than the second. I’ll ask my followers to supply some more suggestions in the tags/reblogs, and throw at you what I have!

Fae’s Anatomy, by Hebanon Games.

Fae’s Anatomy is a comedic storytelling RPG wrapped around a challenging logic puzzle, recreating the high-stakes melodrama of medical procedurals like Grey’s Anatomy, House, and General Hospital. 

Anybody can be an expert in Fae’s Anatomy. The game is set in a world where all forms of magic, spirituality, and mysticism are science. Science? Just another form of wizardry. Quackary, superstition, and pseudo-science work, but so does chemotherapy, antibiotics, and sound medicine.

In many ways, I’d say Fae’s Anatomy feels like a typical ttrpg: you have one person giving hints and clues to the rest of the players, who will use certain skills and abilities to solve a problem. But the closest role to the GM role - the Patient - is simply different from the doctors in what limits them. The Patient is suffering from some kind of mysterious illness, and while they have a little bit of information available to their general illness, the app presented to them to help them run through the diagnosis keeps the solution obscured enough to keep them on their toes. The Patient also has to role-play their symptoms well enough to help point the doctors in the right direction. In some ways, it feels like Fae’s Anatomy is an elegant form of charades - and if you want to hear how this game plays, you can check out the special episodes that Lawful Great Adventures recorded using this game!

Apocalypse Keys, by Rae Nedjadi @temporalhiccup

The Doomsday Clock is ticking down and emotions run high as you and your team of DIVISION agents struggle to find the Keys before the villainous Harbingers unlock the Doors of Power and bring about the apocalypse.

As an Omen class monster, you are the only thing capable of holding back the apocalypse. Combat occult threats and investigate supernatural phenomena alongside your team of supernatural agents working for the shadowy DIVISION. But in a world that shuns monsters like you, only your deepest, most heartfelt bonds can grant you the power to stop those who seek to unlock Doom’s Door.

There are two ways in which Apocalypse Keys uniquely empowers the players in ways I consider slightly unorthodox. Firstly, there’s the fact that the lore of DIVISION, the shadowy government agency that holds your monsters leash, isn’t fully fleshed out at the beginning of play. It’s slowly uncovered with each mission and playbook advancement, with the players being presented with questions and workshopping the answers together.

Second is the mystery mechanic, which was popularized by Brindlewood Bay and The Between, and also made its way into games such as External Containment Bureau and Bump in the Dark. While the GM designs clues and thinks about what kinds of Harbingers might be responsible for this specific apocalypse, it’s up to the players to decide what the answer to the mystery actually is - and it’s the player’s roll that determines how accurate they are.

Brinkwood, Blood of Tyrants, by Far Horizons Co-Op.

Mask up. Spill blood. Drink the Rich.

The world is not as it should be. The rich feed, literally, upon the poor, as blood-sucking vampires who barely bother to conceal their horrific, parasitic nature. The downtrodden peoples of the world struggle under the burdens of rent, payable through the sweat of their labor or the blood of their veins. Evil has triumphed. Many have given in to despair. But all is not lost.

In Brinkwood, you take on the role of renegades, thieves, and rebels struggling for freedom and liberation in a castylpunk world controlled by vampires. Radicalized by tragedy, you have taken up arms and fled into the forests, where you were taken in by unlikely allies - the fae, forgotten creatures of myth - who offered a different path and the means to fight back against your oppressors. Masks, forged of old wood and older magic, are the final tool left to fight a war long ago lost. If you wear them, they will take their price, etching themselves upon your very soul. But they will also let you spill the blood of the rich and powerful vampires that now rule the land, and from that blood strengthen yourself and your movement.

There’s a lot of things about Brinkwood that I absolutely love, from the way the mask playbooks are meant to be swapped among the characters/players with every mission, to the slow but steady revolution that you build by fostering connections with various factions in the Bloody Isles. But for the purpose of this request, we need to talk about Your Exquisite Fae.

Your Exquisite Fae is the process by which the group collaboratively creates a faerie patron, otherworldly and uniquely powerful. It’s inspired by the game Exquisite Corpse, which has each player draw a piece of a drawing without knowing what the others have already created. In Your Exquisite Fae, the players receive answers to prompts written by other players but aren’t given hints as to what the context was - and then they elaborate on what those answers mean. For example, one player might state that the Fae has eyes that reflect the night sky, gleaming like a thousand distant starts. The second player might decide that those eyes see the deepest fears of the enemy, giving the group an advantage at finding weaknesses and secrets when spying on vampires.

Ars Magica, by Atlas Games.

Ars Magica is the award-winning roleplaying game by Jonathan Tweet and Mark Rein•Hagen about wizards and their allies in Mythic Europe. This flexible, deeply built world can support games that are historically accurate or fantasy-based, epic or small scale, political or personal.

Players work together to tell the story of their covenant — all of the magi, their companions, and grogs. This history can span decades. It might be heroic, tragic, or both in turn. The covenant could influence the entirety of Mythic Europe or the fates of a small corner of the world.

Spells will be cast. Duels won and lost. Houses may rise and fall. But magic is forever.

The last time I talked about this game, one of my followers pointed out that this was an incredibly complex game that was designed to accommodate rotating GMs. The game styles itself as a troupe-style game, which means you’re not just responsible for your mages, but also your companions and servants. If you want a game with complex relationships and big-picture conflicts, this might be the game for you.

Slugblaster, by Mikey Hamm.

In the small town of Hillview, teenage hoverboarders sneak into other dimensions to explore, film tricks, go viral, and get away from the problems at home. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid. It’s got parent groups in a panic. And it’s the coolest thing ever.

This is Slugblaster. A table-top rpg about teenagehood, giant bugs, circuit-bent rayguns, and trying to be cool.

It may look like a small thing, but during crew creation, each character playbook has specific roles in determining the crew’s resources and relationships. The Grit picks a faction that trusts the crew. The Guts chooses a faction that the crew has somehow annoyed. Each player draws a portal between the known multiverses, but the Smarts draws two. The Chill has final say over where you hang out when you’re not Slugblasting, and The Heart has final say over your crew name.

I’ve drawn direct inspiration from this setup in my own game that I’m playtesting, by giving each playbook final say over some element in the world, and I think it really boosts player agency and gives them control over the kind of story the group wants to tell.

Planedawn Orphans, by Sharkbomb Studios.

Planedawn Orphans is a campaign kit that helps you prepare a campaign for the fantasy role-playing game of your choice. It provides a flexible and versatile framework to start a campaign. The campaign kit will help you get started and provide structure and support, but some assembly is required.

Set in the Planar City, a strange melting pot that connects the vast diversity of the multiverse. You all play Planar Orphans stranded in this city, your original home worlds destroyed, corrupted or lost. A mysterious Patron has brought you together, provided you with a base of operations and tasked you to complete a Planar Key. This key will let you create a new plane for you and your fellow refugees. Your quest will bring you to exotic places filled with strange creatures and bizarre phenomena.

This isn’t a standalone rpg, but rather a campaign kit for whatever system you like - or even multiple systems! I’m recommending this toolkit because I’m actually planning to use it to run a series of rotating-gm games later this year, with a friend of mine. You’re building your own custom dimension by jumping into a series of vastly different worlds, and your home base is built collectively. There’s a lot of player agency and GM agency here, as players have plenty of control over their home dimensions (since they can’t ever go back) and the GMs can take turns designing custom worlds for the party to jump into. I definitely recommend checking it out.

Also Check Out

Asymmetrical Games Rec Post

[magicalqueennightmare]

The Originals

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Rebekah takes you to meet her brothers

This was insane, you were actively avoiding going to the place you could call your own. You were back to crashing in hotels and the nearest couch or your nova. Why, one may ask? You weren't trying to avoid Rebekah, technically.

You'd answer her calls and even her texts. If you were being honest the two of you had actually developed a pretty good friendship since you met. She wasn't the problem. The problem was your vampiric friend wanted you to meet her family. Rebekah was one thing, while you knew she was dangerous she'd never made a move against you and had never even asked to be invited into your home. 

Her brothers on the other hand? She'd told you stories about them. Klaus was a hybrid, vampire and werewolf. He had also daggered her numerous times for going against his wishes. What if he decided to simply kill you then dagger her until she got over it? Against any other vamp you'd bet on yourself but an original? And a hybrid at that? Yeah you were scared. As for Elijah she'd said he was calmer than Klaus on most things but that his beast was just better hidden beneath tailored suits and a charming smile. Kol was a wild card, Rebekah had said even she had a hard time reading his temperament at any given moment. 

So your plan was to stay away from New Orleans for a few weeks. Who knows, maybe you were just a new shiny toy and she'd get tired of you? Unfortunately you hadn't planned on Garth calling you to take care of a ghoul problem in Chalmette which was about twenty minutes outside of New Orleans. 

Which meant you were now heading on the road to Chalmette in hopes to take care of the problem before Rebekah realized you were nearby again. 

You walked slowly into the door of your apartment. You were sore as hell and your torso was bruised but all in all you'd fared well going against a pack of ghouls solo. You'd never heard Garth curse before you called to tell him that it had indeed been a pack, not a couple of ghouls. He'd apologized profusely but you'd told him it wasn't a big deal, you'd made it through just fine. Kyle was now black listed from hunting for failure to give accurate information but that was well deserved.

Being hurt meant you had no choice but to go home. No hotel would be comfortable enough. You dropped your bags next to the door and locked it. A hot shower was due then you wanted to crash for a few hours.

—-----------------

You had just laid across your bed when your phone rang. You snatched it off the nightstand and glanced at the screen, Rebekah. “Hello?” You laid back amongst the pillows as her voice hit your ears “Are you back in town yet?” You nodded and then said “Yeah, just got back but I'm crashing for the next however many hours I can manage” “What was it?” She asked “Pack of ghouls” “Savage little creatures aren't they? I'll leave you to rest but I'm coming by tomorrow. We're going shopping then you're coming by my place with me” 

“Rebekah..” you tried but she cut you off “They'll be on their best behavior, I promise. Bring weapons if you need to feel safer” you let out a breath then said “Ok. Just make it later tomorrow so I can sleep in?” “Of course” with that she hung up so you plugged your phone in and was asleep almost time your head hit the pillow.

You walked behind Rebekah feeling the nerves roll through your stomach as you looked around at the house. It was in the center of the french quarter and nothing short of elegant. It had a fucking courtyard for Christ's sake. Now you were feeling twice as out of place as you did before. Not only were you a human and a hunter walking into the home of the Original vampires but you were poor too. Hunting wasn't exactly lucrative, you got by on a card that was attached to a bank account in Sweden that a friend had set up by removing money from some very bad people. 

She looked back at you and smiled “Come on now, don't lurk in the doorways. Klaus enjoys doing that enough for all of us” you plastered a small smile onto your face all the time wondering what the hell were you doing.

—--------------

She led the way into the sitting room. You swallowed down the nerves in your stomach to see only one man inside. At least it was just one of her brothers? 

He glanced up when the two of you walked in but did a double take when he noticed you “Sister, what have you dragged home?” You spun towards him at that comment “Excuse me?” 

You saw the hint of a smile pulling at his lips “Oh I like this one” Rebekah laughed lightly “Easy Kol. She may hurt you human or not” he eyed you for a moment then nodded and offered his hand  “Nice to meet you”  you shook his hand “I'd like to say the same but we'll see won't we?” a laugh escaped him at that “I see why you like her. Klaus and Elijah should be back anytime. Let's see how they like your little hunter” 

—----------------

He left the room after that something about having a date so you turned to look at Rebekah “If your brothers kill me I'm going to find a way to haunt you the rest of your life and considering you're a vampire that's a very long time” she laughed lightly “I promise I'll make sure you have a way to haunt me” “Not very promising there Rebekah”

You heard a man's voice calling her name and felt the tattoo on your shoulder twitch. The two men that walked into the room were nothing short of gorgeous. 

One had lighter colored hair, cut short that was almost curly in places. He was wearing jeans and a henley with blue eyes watching your every movement. You'd be willing to bet money on that one being Klaus. 

That meant the other was one Elijah. He had darker hair, styled perfectly. He was wearing a suit that was obviously made for him and hugged his shoulders deliciously. Brown eyes held your gaze. 

“Rebekah?” You spoke after a moment looking over at her. She smiled then did the introductions between all of you. 

“So this is the hunter you've been spending time with” Klaus acknowledged walking over to where you stood. Your mind was screaming to step back, give room between yourself and this man. The hybrid. You knew though that space wouldn't do any good if he meant you harm and besides if he chose to kill you, the last thing you did would not be to cower. He stared you down for a moment and you felt the urge to drop your gaze, to show some kind of submission but you refused to give in to it. Even if it caused a throbbing just behind your eyes. 

After a moment a smile split his face “Oh she is something indeed isn't she?” He looked amused and that was when it hit you, the urge to submit. He'd been trying to compel you and you hadn't given in. The surprising part was his amusement at that fact. 

He stepped aside and that was when you realized Elijah's eyes were now focused on you. You fought the urge to squirm under his attention. He was absolutely gorgeous, a sculpted jawline and a smile that flickered to his lips with a capability to make the strongest knees go weak. Damn, were you attracted to a vampire? To Rebekah's oldest brother at that? 

He studied you much the same way Kol and Klaus had. “Must be strong magic infused in that tattoo of yours if Niklaus failed to compel you” you shrugged “My line of work I can't exactly leave my neck open as an appetizer. I have an anti possession tattoo as well along with a few others that give me some protection from different odds and ends of the supernatural world” 

He nodded slowly “I must say my sister has the strangest taste in companions” without much thought process you did the thing you always did which was to allow yourself to be as surprised at what came out of your mouth as everyone else around you was “Well I mean with brothers like the lot of you she needs a different flavor of crazy every now and then as a break” 

Klaus and Rebekah exchanged a look out of the corner of your eye as all three vampires went still before laughter broke out of them all “She does fit in well doesn't she?” Elijah asked Rebekah then turned to you “You're welcome in our home and you have my word no harm will fall to you inside these walls” you smiled “Thank you” he nodded then looked at Klaus “Come Niklaus we still have business to attend to” 

Before he left Elijah shook your hand “Pleasure to meet you” you watched him walk out along with Klaus and felt Rebekah at your side before she whispered “Please tell me you're not checking my brother out” You cut your eyes at her “I wasn't” she raised an eyebrow “For a hunter you're a terrible liar at times” you shook your head then motioned around “Well show me around the place!” 

Governor's Ball

[the-modern-typewriter]

ah, could you write something about a vampire x mortal who always reincarnates

The vampire recognised the scent of them immediately. Part of them thought it might be wishful thinking. The other part burned with thirst and longing and too many raw things for any one person - supposedly soulless vampire or not - to cope with.

If they needed to breathe, they would have been breathless.

It wasn't them.

It couldn't be them.

"Jesus," they heard their lovely and inexplicable love murmur. "What have they done to you?!"

The sounds of the world grew a little louder as the human began to tear down the wall around them, inch by cold and concrete inch. The vampire felt like they had been trapped for a very long time.

(They suspected that they might have been trapped for a very long time).

The sound of that blood, that impossibly familiar blood, roared in their ears. A heartbeat. A lifeline. A hangman's noose.

"Don't." The words were inaudible with disuse. The whisper of cracked plaster and old bones long since desiccated.

Cool air caressed the hollow of the vampire's throat as that part of the wall was shattered through first. The vampire couldn't see them straight away, there was only the agony of hope. Glimpses.

Their love had a new haircut - something of the contemporary style, perhaps? Their eyes were so much older than their face. Their lips were pressed in a harsh, trembling, utterly livid line.

Was it truly them?

Their love looked like a strange memory, not quite accurate to the version that the vampire knew. Different. The same. Younger?

The vampire tumbled out of their broken cage less like a deadly immortal apex predator and more like a Jenga tower made out of soggy potato wedges.

The human caught them, cradled them close, pressing frantic kisses atop their no-doubt horribly greasy hair.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," the human said. "I thought you were dead. If I'd known - it's going to be okay now. You're going to be okay."

Maybe it was a hallucination.

Maybe the vampire had finally died.

That blood was so close, so enticing, a siren call that they were too pathetically weak to even reach for. They didn't feel like a living thing at all.

The vampire groaned.

"Blood." The human - the hallucination, the everything because if they were dead or hallucinating than at least the vampire got to see them again - blurted the word. "You need blood. Of course you need blood! You must be starving. Shit. Okay."

The kisses stopped crowning their head.

It was possible that hallucinations were supposed to hurt less.

The scent of blood grew stronger. Something was pressed against the vampire's mouth and -

They drank.

When the vampire came to themselves again, they had only the vaguest memory of stumbling out of the tunnels and into the inky night. The human's arm was warm and secure around them. There was a bed. Soft sheets. Fresh air. A growing strength returning to their body.

The room around them was clear. The human sitting by the bed was undoubtedly there, but still impossible. Still some miracle.

"You look a lot less dead now," the human said, apparently making a remarkable effort to keep their voice light. "That's good. Dead doesn't suit you."

"You died." The vampire had processed the grief for years, as if such loss could be neatly packaged and boxed away like a vampire feral with mourning.

"I came back. I didn't realise you had too."

"You're..." The vampire's brow furrowed. They sat up, slow and careful lest they terrify their definitely not a vampire but not quite mortal love.

"And you're a vampire," the human said. "Wow. When did that happen?"

"Shortly after you died. You died."

"Sorry. I didn't do it on purpose."

They stared at each other, disbelieving and so crippled by relief that it left them both shy and faltering.

What did one say to the reincarnated version of someone they had loved more than anything? What did one say to a blood-thirsty monster who had spent the last decade or so entombed in a wall?

It felt somewhere between a second chance, beautiful and shining and everything that they had ever wanted...and an utterly sick joke.

The vampire wanted to kiss them.

"And you're back," the vampire said.

"And you're a vampire."

"I didn't do it on purpose." They would never have chosen an eternity without their love on purpose and yet...there they sat. The vampire was glad that they didn't have to blink, didn't have to tear their attention away for even a millisecond.

Their hand twitched on the bedsheet. They were abruptly aware that a long chain connected their wrist to the headboard.

Their love coloured. "I wasn't sure if you'd try and eat me again. You weren't...you weren't quite yourself."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay. What they did to you - if I hadn't come back - if I'd found you sooner -" It was so like them that it had to be real, and so the vampire had to smile.

"It's okay," they said. "You're back. You found me."

Everything would be okay because they were there.

The moment after that, the two of them were clinging to each other like they were clutching for the last life boat off the Titanic.

Everything was going to be okay.

"God," the human mumbled into their neck, "I missed you. I thought I was - I thought I was alone. I thought you were gone."

"Never." The vampire kissed them, then, claiming and tender. "I'll never be gone again. I'll wait for you forever."

Their mortal would never wake up with that shattering grief again.

The vampire grew used to the exquisite pleasure-pain of the reincarnation cycles after that.