#you may call it stage fear people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soldiersgirl · 2 months ago

Text

— 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲/𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 .ᐟ

summary — the people's princess and the people's prince, that's what you were promised. the reality? he was the best worst thing to happen to you, yet.

cw — supe!fem!reader x soldier boy. payback era. 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it), spit kink, teasing, corruption kink (kinda), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, name calling (slut, whore, princess, baby, sweetheart, angel), degradation, cursing, edging, riding, drugs, drinking, mentions of manipulation blackmail, mean & soft ben.

word count — 3,844 words

you were laying there, in the haze of the moment, trying to remember a time before him, before all the chaos and turmoil. life had been calm, somewhat boring, but tolerable before being head-hunted by vought. life in a rural, suburban town had its perks; you knew everyone and everyone trusted you despite your... curse, as you called it; "powers" by everyone else.

they weren't super powers, they weren't a gift. it was a curse set upon you; the responsibility too big to bear for only a little girl when they first showed up. the mind reading and mind control. touching your mum's hand in comfort and seeing her whole life flash before your eyes; her thoughts, her wants, her sins. the same with your father.

you hadn't, willingly, let anyone touch you for 20 years, not up until you were thrusted into the spotlight and ben's experienced hands.

he had crushed the bennies with the bottom of his hunting knife on the edge of his bedside table before lining up the fine powder over the valley of your bare breasts. he couldn't coerce you into taking them with him like he wanted, so he had to resort to taking them off you instead. you lay with bated breath as he chuckles to himself before snorting the drug, his nose dragging over your full breasts; his hands cupping them softly to make sure you keep still. unlike last time, when you fucking spilled the powder all over and he had to lick it off of you like a dog, lapping at his water-bowl. you can't help but admire his hardened features as he pinches his nose and rests his head on your breast, feeling the full effect of the drugs.

the freckles that dance over his nose, his moss green eyes and the gentle wrinkles surrounding them, his plush rose lips, that both spit venom and whisper honeyed words.

for as long as you can remember, no one touched your bare skin unless it was arranged and paid for, by your parents. while you were still young and impressionable, they talked you into "using your powers for good". people paid you, or rather your parents, to make you control them, "help" them. help addicts drop their addiction, no matter what it may be. help people work harder, better to get that promotion. help politicians get votes, get laws passed. help people fall in and out of love. no matter what it was, it had a price and many were desperate enough to pay it. it was a vicious, endless cycle but you were seen as a selfless saviour to those in need.

which is exactly why vought wanted you, needed you. some recent controversies and mild scandals had landed payback in hot water with the board members and pr team. allegations of drug use, violent bar fights, bribing, sex. you name it and the members of payback had probably done it. and here you came in, to save their name and reputation.

the crowd cheered as you stumbled onto the stage, the board members sitting front row looking pleased with themselves and payback sneering behind you, their eyes silently warning you; threatening. your hair had been curled and styled to perfection and you had been forced into a, somewhat, modest lilac suit that hugged each curve deliciously; if you asked soldier boy. along with matching gloves to keep you from accidentally reading someone's mind.

it was a fear that you carried with you at all times. with just a brush or graze of your hands against theirs; all their deep, dark secrets spilled and exposed. no matter what or how much you saw, you kept it all tightly locked up and pushed deep down so that it would never spill over the surface. you could barely live with yourself anyway, but it wasn't your place to ruin others lives in return.

"mystara!" the host announced as he slipped his arms around your shoulder and shook you as you forced a smile. "small town girl coming to big town new york! us, at vought, are delighted to announce that she'll be joining your favourite team, paybaaaack!" he pointed back at the vexed members who all plastered on fake smiles, similar to yours. they all waved ceremoniously, arrogantly to the crowd. soldier boy swaggered forward, pushed the host back to replace his arm around your shoulder and grabbed the mic from the host with a smirk.

"we are more than thrilled to have such a beautiful addition to our team. especially as she is my new girlfriend!" he said through gritted teeth. vought had worked hard to ensure that the marketing was in place. pairing you and soldier boy would only increase numbers. the soft-spoken mind-reader with the brutish, rough killer? it was almost too good and too easy. "we can't wait to work with her and make her a valued member of the team. ain't that right, sweetheart?" he turned and your eyes finally met. you could barely manage to keep the eye contact, his eyes demanding your attention as he held the microphone to your quivering lips. all you could hear was crimson countess scoffing behind the pair of you.

"thank you, s-soldier boy. i am so pleased to be here, so excited for this opportunity. i owe this to my parents, stan edgar and most importantly you, b-babe." you stuttered through your PR approved speech. soldier boy planted an unexpected kiss on your cheek before hissing in your ear.

"if you ever use any of your fuckin' tricks on me, i'll destroy your fuckin' pathetic, little life. you got that, sweetheart?" all you could do was stand frozen and just nod. "atta girl." he laughs and gives your ass a small pat.

"if only they could see you now, baby, hmm?" ben sighs as he pepper kisses across your breasts, his tongue poking out and flicking at your hardened nipple, chuckling as you squirm. "not so sweet and innocent as you would have them all believe." he hums as he sucks at one nipple and pinches the other, whilst whimpers fall past your bitten lips. "who knew you could be such a whore? such a sweet, obedient whore for me..." he groans as he leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses down your heaving chest and tensed stomach.

"you're so mean." you huff in protest, arching your back to feel his lips better against your supple skin.

"shut the fuck up, you love it." he scoffs, swiping his fingers through your folds and admiring the slick that adorns his fingers. "look how fucking wet you are and i've barely even touched you." his eyes sparkle as he brings his fingers to your mouth, inviting you to taste. your defiance isn't appreciated and he roughly grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open and stuffing his fingers against the pad of your tongue. "fuuuck, sweetheart." his voice filled with adoration as you wildly suck and run your tongue over his fingers.

he knew he destroyed everything he touched, but he just couldn't keep his hands off of you. since he first saw you, he just knew that you were the one for him. underneath your innocent eyes and soft-spoken nature, you were hungry for acceptance; for someone to love you for you and not fear you. a feeling he mirrored and knew all too well.

he pulled back his hand, a string of saliva connecting his digits to your panting mouth. he slightly slaps your clit with his spit-covered fingers, messily running them back and forth over your most sensitive spot, relishing in your pleading.

"ben, ben- please, oh fuck-" you beg, as your hands pull and tug on the cotton sheets beneath you. it only ignites ben's excitement as he roughly spits on your pussy before dragging up pointed tongue up through your folds and settling on your tortured clit. he hungrily devours you as he wraps his toned arms around your thighs and tries, but fails, to keep you still as you feverishly buck your hips against his gifted tongue.

"god, you're so fuckin' needy, aren't you? always fuckin' beggin' and pleading for me." he mumbles against your folds, his tongue still working to pull the first orgasm out of you. "you're just my lil needy princess, aren't you? does my princess want to cum on soldier boy's tongue?" you can only squeeze your eyes shut and nod as your senses are overwhelmed. "look at me." another slap against your pussy. "look. at. me." ben demands. his eyes could burn a whole through yours with the intensity of his gaze as you start to lose control and cum all over his tongue. he loosens his grip on you and let you grind your pussy against his tongue, as he smirks and savours your taste coating his tongue.

ben wastes no time climbing on top of you, smashing his lips onto yours and your tongues intertwining with one another. to your surprise, he pauses to rest his forehead against yours and stroke your cheek.

it took you weeks to settle into your room and role at payback, no one took you seriously but simultaneously they feared you. dodged you when you got too close, afraid of what you would see, of what you would think of them. ironically, you didn't care enough to want to know their secrets and regrets, you could barely carry those you already had tried to forget.

but what you had forgotten is that your life wasn't yours to control. you were nothing but a puppet to the company that had threatened to "send you away" if you didn't comply.

you would pose as a secretary during vought meetings with a wig and all, shaking hands with international elected officials and relaying the information to vought management for extortion and blackmail purposes. influencing presidents, CEOs, and industry moguls to strategically invest in vought and help pass supe-positive laws to allow more human testing and production of compound v. anything to make vought more money.

however, it didn't stop there. the more power-hungry vought got, the more you were pushed around and forced to go against your morals. over the past several weeks, you had been sneaking into the payback member's individual rooms to gain intel and to make them more... complacent to voughts ideas and suggestions. but when it came to soldier boy, you flat-out refused. no matter how much you screamed and shouted at your managers, your worries were pushed aside.

that's how you found yourself sneaking into his room against your own will and better judgement. he looked so vulnerable when he slept, his brows furrowed only slightly and his hair swept beautifully across his hardened features. you're not sure how long you just stood there and just admired him, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and touch...

what you hadn't known that night, was that soldier boy was wide awake. he wasn't surprised; he knew why you were there and what vought was up to. but what surprised him was that you just left, without using your powers on him like he had expected and defying vought.

he thought about you for days until one evening, he thought it was finally time to confront you, to get some fucking answers. it was just after midnight and all the members had gone to bed after some heavy drinking and drug-taking in the payback conference room; everyone except you. you were never invited and never expected and that suited you just fine. you had witnessed how that shit could destroy lives too many times to count and you heeded the warnings. three loud knocks rapped at your door pulling you out of your thoughts. you sat your book down, instinctively pulled on your gloves, padded over barefoot and opened your door.

"s-soldier boy." you gasped. he looked down at you with a sneer, his brows in a deep frown and his soft, unstyled hair falling just in front of his analysing eyes. he simply grunted as he looked you over; no makeup, messy hair, pink pyjama set and your fuckin' gloves. he silently pushed past you and walked into your bedroom, leaving you frozen and confused at your door. you quickly closed the door and turned to the contrasting, intimidating figure in your girly bedroom. like a western stand-off, you both stood and just watched one another, waiting to see who'd break first.

"why?" he barked at you, making you flinch.

"why what, sir?" you asked carefully.

"don't give me that sir bullshit." he snorted. "do you think i'm fucking stupid, huh? why didn't you touch me that night with your freaky-ass powers? i know you're doing it to all the others, by the way. i've seen how you sneak in and out of their rooms, how they're suddenly acting different and think everythin' vought does is just revolutionary. i see you." with each sentence, he makes his way over to you right until he's towering over you. you feel like a wounded animal at the end of a hunter's gun, silently begging for freedom.

"i- i couldn't. i was afraid of what i'll see. afraid of how you would react if you worked it out. afraid of you." you quietly admit, deciding it's better to be truthful and once you started, it was hard to stop.

"but what if i wanted you to see?" he muttered in response.

he had pushed and folded your legs tightly against your chest as he mercilessly pounded his thick cock into you, with one hand wrapped tightly around your dainty throat and the other grabbing your thigh to stabilise himself. the only sounds filling the room were your hushed begging and ben whispering the most foul words into your ear as you came undone under him.

"god, please- ben, im so close, please.." you begged endlessly and breathlessly as his grip on your throat tightens.

"always so fuckin' tight, princess. god, you're so cock-hungry, it just keeps suckin' me in. fuck." he groans as his stubble rubs against your ear. his hips snap ruthlessly against yours, your gummy walls contracting and clamping around him. "d'you wanna come, baby? gonna cum all over my cock, like the slut you are?" as your eyes roll into your head, you somehow manage to nod and let out a weak "yes, please...". his teeth nipped and tugged on your ears before travelling down and leaving sloppy kisses all down your neck before biting down on your shoulder. marking your silky skin and watching with glee as the teeth marks decorate your skin as a reminder of who you belong to.

he pealed himself away to gaze softly down at you and your completely fucked-out state. god, he was convinced that he would never grow tired of this sight, which is why he immediately stopped, leaving you high and dry. tears threaten to form and roll down your reddened cheeks as you stare at him, mouth agape and band right about to snap.

"my sweet angel, i'm not done with you yet." he hums as turns you over onto all fours and slowly starts to thrust again as he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, starting the torturous process all over again.

he had grabbed your wrist and slipped off your glove as you fought and yelled in protest. this is the last thing you wanted. you weren't ready to face the horrors that his psyche hid. but he wanted to give you the full truth so he could pour some out and share the in the guilt you carried, together.

"stop!" you yell out. "no, fuck! don't, plea-" his fingers had intertwined with yours and everything flashed before your eyes like a bomb had gone off behind your eyes.

his abusive father, his distant mother, his trauma-filled boarding school days, injecting the compound v and the pain that followed. all the fake pr stunts; normandy beach, ww2, helping the soldiers. the drugs, the women, the drinking. killing, murders, bodies beaten to a pulp. the desperate need for approval, for acceptance, for something real. like you, his life was no longer his and he feared the worst. the last thing that appeared in front of your eyes was as clear as day: his dirty, unfiltered thoughts of you.

you wrenched your hand from his grip and staggered back, your mind a whirlwind.

"don't ever fucking do that again." your chest heaved with anger. "you don't have the fucking right to do that! no matter who you are!" you snatched back your glove and put it on.

"did you see it all?" he asked calmly. not what you expected.

"i saw everything." you nod.

"... and?"

suddenly, the towering figure in front of you had transformed into the young boy who yearned for love and understanding. he had never wanted to be feared but it was wired into his new dna and he couldn't shake it no matter how much he wanted to. you couldn't help but soften up and almost... pity him.

"and i see you." you repeat his earlier words back to him. he lets out a loud sigh and runs a hand over his rugged face. "i- i had no idea. about everything. i'm sorry." ben scoffs in response.

"i don't need your fucking sympathy. i just needed you to know that..." he hesitated. "i understand and i'm not afraid of you. you shouldn't be afraid of me. i don't want you to be." he edges closer to you, grabbing the tips of your gloves and slowly sliding them off, his eyes never leaving yours. he held your hands in his as if they were porcelain, bringing one up and kissing one of your fingertips to show the depth of his words. "our hands are weapons used against our will. but together, you and me, we can resurrect something beautiful."

"ben." you gasp, all of this unexpected.

"you know i want this. my dirty thoughts of you, they were never mine to keep." he sighed before leaning down, ever so slightly, and brushing his lips against yours. you grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours in a heated clash of tongues and teeth. you knew he was going to wreck you, but you wanted nothing more than to give in and seek comfort in your american psycho.

that's how you ended up here; riding ben like your life depended on it. your tight walls hugging bens cock like your pussy was made for him and his hands fitting perfectly on your hips as he guided you. he swallowed your loud moans as your lips tangled together and your tongues intertwined. his hips bucking up to match your frenzied tempo as you lost yourself in the sensation of being completely filled by him. he threads his finger through your hair and tugs on it, yanking your head back, making you yelp and hiss in pain.

"i love the way you hurt me." you rasp out in between rough thrusts and playful bites across your chest; the harsh purple bruises a contrast to your delicate nature. ben grins against your neck as he reaches around and slaps your ass with a groan.

"god, i have really fucked you up, haven't i? my baby, so fuckin' dirty." he chuckles as he leans back and folds his arms behind his head to watch the show you're putting on for him. "show me how much you fuckin' need me and i might let you come on my cock." you claw at his chest with your lilac nails, that match your supe-suit, as you grind down onto him with full force. the sweat cascading down your back and slick covering ben's thick thighs.

that was a pro and con of being supes; you could fuck for hours, but you could also get fucked for hours without room for a breather. you were sure that ben had fucked you stupid after edging you on for what felt like hours as he rides his bennie-filled high and gets to see how you fall apart under him.

"you know that only good sluts get to come on my cock, don't you?" he laughs as you notice your pace slacking, your body soon couldn't take anymore. he forcefully grabs your jaw; his pupils completely blown leaving only a ring of bright green around them. he taps your lips and you open them with a second thought, something that he programmed into you. he spits into your mouth and watches adoringly as you roll it around in your mouth before swallowing it and resuming your previous frenzied pace. his rough hands grab your hips, squeezing your supple skin as he fucks his cock deeper into you. within seconds, you're finally coming all over him as you curse and pant his name like a prayer.

"fuck- nggh, oh my fucking god, ben.. ben, ben!" you shout as he comes with you; the feeling of being filled with him was like no other. he lazily thrusts into you whilst carefully laying you on your back and adorning your face with soft kisses and whispered "good girl"'s. you share one final, deep kiss; filled with unsaid emotions and promises to one another before he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up.

two misplaced puzzle pieces, finally belonging and forming a picture no one else could see.

you weren't sure who affected who more. you had been introduced to the world of desire and sin by ben; he was your first everything and he revelled in that fact. knowing no one had heard or seen you the way he does, fuck. it was like a whole new drug and it's potency was almost deadly. you had gotten more calculated, with his encouragement, and were using your powers for your own good and not just at the behest of whoever held your leash. you confronted your parents and had cut off the contact, although the damage was done. you were still the people's soft princess to the adoring crowds, but you had evolved into something more sinister; more selfish. and nothing could get in your way now.

in comparison, ben had gotten calmer. he didn't throw himself into women, drinking and drugs like before, only occasionally dabbling in taking a hit or two of whatever he had lying around. men like him is what love destroys and his harsh outer layer was slowly eroding. his vicious appetite for destruction and violence needed less feeding and attention. his sole purpose was to protect you and ensure that you both would never be denied the happiness he knew you deserved. he considered what was better; to be feared or to be loved. but he had come to the conclusion that "one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved."

thanks to you, he had both.

a/n: WELL. i hope you like this one too guys; it was so much fun to write and rather self-indulgent. i'm considering ACTUALLY make this fic a series, i love their dynamic. this was based on another favourite song of mine that immediately makes me think of the loml, ben, when i hear it <3 long live fall out boy

-`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @doeinlace (comment or inbox me to be added)

2K notes · View notes

spencerrsmopbucket · 9 days ago

Text

Ocean Breeze | Finnick Odair x Reader

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Summary: You, this year's victor from District Four, return home after your victory. Finnick takes an interest in your deep, seemingly impenetrable personality. You didn't plan on letting him in, but.. Finnick is Finnick after all.

Expert brutality. In every news headline, in every advertisement of the Games, those were the words in big, bold letters. And who was on display, fingers tinted with blood and scars on their face?

You.

You were this year's Victor. You'd fought through the games -- tooth, nail, and fish hook. You always scoffed bitterly at every photo and comment you saw of yourself, your e/c eyes narrowing with disdain and something almost close to pain. Despite being good at hiding it, it was still there. It ebbed and flowed, reminding you every day of who you now were and what you'd be recognized for.

You were Name Last-Name, the brutal Victor of District 4. Beautiful, graceful, but deadly. You were known for being undetectable in the daylight, but creeping through the shadows of the arena at night, striking whoever you stalked with expert precision and gruesome method. You'd even taken out three people at once, simply because they couldn't see you in the dark and weren't as swift as you were, so they couldn't grab you.

In interviews, you were stoic. Uncrackable. That itself became your personality to viewers. Unbothered, they thought. Unbreakable. Wrong, you often snickered to yourself. You just wouldn't show the sheep anything they could get off on.

You hated the Capitol. You hated Snow. You hated everyone that supported the Games.

You'd just gotten home to District 4 today, the fanciful life in the Capitol finally coming to an end for you. The sigh of relief that exited you when you finally touched feet onto the beach could've been heard around the world. You inhaled again, deeply, holding the salty air of home into your lungs. Your eyes gazed across the horizon, watching the waves crash.

It was a windy day. Your hair blew slightly into your face. Grabbing it, you tied it up into a messy bun and continued walking, your bare feet on the cold beach.

Finnick, in all of his time watching your interviews and performance in the arena, couldn't figure out exactly what he thought of you.

On Reaping Day, he didn’t recognize your name when it was called. Finnick thought he knew everyone in District 4 -- faces, families, fishermen. But when you stepped onto that stage, something about you struck him. Not fear, not drama. You didn’t cry or shake. You just walked, eyes ahead, spine straight, mouth set in a firm line. That calm silence unsettled him in a way he hadn’t expected.

You reminded him of himself, standing there years ago. Only younger. Quieter. And somehow, already hardened.

He started paying attention during the Capitol broadcasts. You didn’t perform for the cameras. You didn’t flirt with the other tributes or flash a Capitol smile. You just trained, and watched, and listened. Finnick noticed how your eyes moved -- never resting too long on anyone, but never missing a single detail. He recognized the calculation behind your stillness.

You weren’t detached. You were preparing.

Capitol audiences didn’t get it. They called you “stoic,” “unapproachable,” “cold.” But Finnick saw through it. He had worn the same mask. And the fact that you never let it slip -- not even once -- made him sit up straighter every time your face flickered on screen.

You didn’t charm the crowd on interview day. You didn’t cry. You barely smiled. And Finnick couldn’t look away.

While Caesar tried to pull something -- anything -- out of you, you sat with that unreadable expression, voice low and clipped, like you didn’t care if the audience liked you or not. You didn’t need them to. You weren’t looking for sponsors. You were preparing for war.

The Capitol called it a lack of personality. Finnick knew better. That’s not emptiness, he thought. That’s control. And maybe -- just maybe -- it scared them.

He’d planned to watch your Games the way he watched every set --disconnected. He couldn’t afford to feel anything. But when you moved through the arena like you’d been born for it -- slipping between shadows, striking with brutal efficiency -- he leaned closer. You didn’t fight for sport. You didn’t gloat. You just survived, again and again, with that same quiet fire.

And when you killed? You didn’t blink. But he saw it; the tiniest shift in your eyes after each one. Not pride. Not satisfaction. Just pain buried too deep to show.

The night you took out three tributes at once -- swift, silent, unseen -- he actually exhaled in disbelief.

Watching you win reminded Finnick of what victory really was: survival dressed up as glory. He saw it in your eyes -- that numbness, that quiet rage. He knew it well.

You didn't hear him at first. The wind swallowed the soft crunch of his footsteps in the sand, the rustle of driftwood beneath his weight. But then you caught the scent of salt and something softer -- like sugarcane and sea spray -- and your gaze sharpened slightly, turning over your shoulder.

Finnick Odair stood a few paces behind you, hands in his pockets, eyes on you instead of the ocean.

He didn’t speak right away. He just watched, quietly, like he wasn’t sure if you’d bolt or bite.

“You always walk like that,” he finally said, his voice smooth and low, tinged with something like amusement. “Like the ocean owes you something.”

You stared at him. Not cold, but unreadable. It was how you always looked at people now.

“And do you always sneak up on people?” you replied, tone even. No bite, no softness -- just a fact.

Finnick shrugged, offering a small, crooked smile. “Only when I’m curious.”

You turned back toward the water, letting the conversation settle into silence. But he didn’t leave.

He stepped closer -- not close enough to crowd, but just enough that you could feel the heat of him beside you, grounding in a way that surprised you.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured after a moment. “Not to me.”

You didn’t respond.

He glanced sideways at you. “But… I watched. Every second. You didn’t crack once. Not in the arena. Not on camera.”

Your jaw clenched. “And?”

“And I just wanted to say,” he paused, voice quieter now, “I saw what they didn’t.”

That made your eyes flick toward him, guarded but curious.

“I know what it’s like,” he said. “Coming back with blood on your hands and Capitol lies in your teeth. Everyone either wants to worship you or pretend you’re whole.”

You looked away again. The accuracy of what he said startled you. Like he could see you.

"Look, Odair," you sighed, the thick walls built up around you evident. "You can pretend you know anything about me, but--"

“--but I don’t, yeah, yeah,” Finnick cut in, his lips tugging into a crooked smirk. “Believe it or not, I’ve heard that one before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You watched me on a screen. You don’t know a damn thing.”

He stepped closer, hands in his pockets, wind tousling his hair. “I watched you survive. Watched you outsmart half the Capitol’s little monsters. Watched you break records and a few rib cages.”

You didn’t answer, but your silence wasn’t dismissal. Not entirely.

Finnick tilted his head, studying you. “Let me guess. You hate the attention. Hate the interviews. Hate the fact that they all call you a ‘Victor’ when you feel more like a grave.”

You stiffened. He was getting too close to the truth.

“I didn’t come out here for therapy,” you said flatly.

“Oh, trust me,” he chuckled, “if I were offering therapy, I’d at least have brought alcohol.”

That pulled a small twitch at the corner of your mouth. Damn him.

“Why are you really here, Finnick?” you asked, arms crossed, voice low. “You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t,” he agreed easily. “But I remember what it felt like. Coming back home and realizing the ocean didn’t wash off the blood. That the sand didn’t make you clean.”

You blinked. That was too poetic. Too real. And too annoyingly accurate.

“Besides,” he added with a wink, “I figured if anyone could match my pretty face and fucked up soul combo, it’d be you.”

“Wow,” you muttered, dry as the heat you fought in the arena. “Your ego’s bigger than the arena.”

“It’s well-fed,” he said smugly. “But you -- you’re starving for real conversation. Don’t deny it.”

You rolled your eyes, though your chest felt strangely lighter. He wasn’t giving you pity. He wasn’t afraid of you, either. He was poking the bear on purpose. Teasing the teeth.

“Careful,” you warned, but your tone had lost its sharpness. “I bite.”

Finnick’s grin widened. “So do I. Just ask the Capitol.”

He stepped beside you again, shoulder just close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him in the sea breeze.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said after a beat. “Hell, I’m barely holding my own cracks together. But I’m here. If you want that.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Just stared out at the horizon where the sun was starting to dip, orange spilling into blue.

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered.

Finnick smirked. “That’s basically a yes.”

You bumped his arm lightly with your shoulder.

“Don’t push your luck, pretty boy.”

His grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You like me, you just don't know it yet.”

The conversations on the beach became a small tradition as you softened up. Every few weeks, Finnick would seek you out, knowing exactly where you'd be. You were usually in the same spot, sitting on a blanket with a book. Sometimes the book was absent -- you just stared out at the waves instead.

He was proud of himself. He'd gotten you to tell him feelings, even secrets of your own. He'd gained your trust. He was your outlet, just as he'd wanted.

And the best part, to him at least, was that he'd managed to fall for you.

Finnick was a romantically charged person. He loved love. He loved old love. Slow paced tenderness where the process of falling in love with someone was barely noticeable until it was all consuming. And now, Finnick could barely ignore how much he wanted to tell you.

He knew it would scare you.

He opted not to use words. He used gentle touches, teasing, small flirts and comments. He used being a shoulder to cry on, collecting sea shells for you because you loved them, embarrassing people who made unsavory comments about your status as a Victor.

Finnick fell for you in the most beautiful, soft, slow way. As he got to know you, he found that you weren't some stoic gruesome person, just as he suspected. You were gentle, intelligent, funny. You were gorgeous, inside and out. You loved kids. You loved animals and the ocean. You had two little brothers, who looked up to you. You only had one parent -- your father, whom you adored.

He adored every single thing he knew about you, bad or not.

Today, he found you on the beach, per usual. But something was different. You weren't just sitting, spaced out or reading.

You were down by the water, laughing softly -- laughing -- as a stray dog jumped around your ankles, kicking up wet sand and barking at your playful swats.

You weren’t wearing your usual armor, either. Your hair was down, sunlit and wild in the breeze, and your face was open, warm, like someone who’d finally stepped out from a long, cold shadow.

You didn’t hear him approach, but somehow, you always knew when he was near.

“Should I be jealous?” Finnick asked, voice playful but quieter than usual, more careful.

You didn’t look at him right away. Just let your hand rest on the dog’s head and murmured, “Of a dog?”

“Well, he’s got your full attention and, apparently, your affection,” he said, lowering himself onto the blanket beside you. “That’s a lot more than I can say for myself.”

You smirked slightly but didn’t meet his eyes.

“You bring food,” you murmured. “He likes that.”

“Do you like that?” he asked, voice dipping just enough to make you still for a second.

You shrugged one shoulder, watching as the dog trotted off to chase a seagull.

Finnick didn’t speak again right away. The silence between you had become a language of its own. Familiar. Almost safe.

Then he spoke again, more gently.

“You’re different.”

You raised a brow at that, finally glancing at him. “Different how?”

“Softer,” he said, eyes scanning your face. “Not weak. Just… not hiding everything with your fists.”

You wanted to snap something back. Reflex. Habit. But the words didn’t come.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t answer, just looked back at the ocean. The waves were coming in slower now. Calmer.

The silence fell, but not the kind that used to hang between you like a barricade. This one was gentle. Shared. He stood next to you, hands by his sides, looking out at the water the same way you were.

Then -- he felt it.

Your hand, brushing against his. A feather-light touch. Testing. Curious.

He turned his hand slightly, enough so that his pinky grazed yours. You didn’t pull away. In fact, your hand moved a little closer. You still weren’t looking at him, but that made it feel even more real.

“You’re quiet today,” he said softly.

“I don’t need to talk to you,” you replied, then added quickly, “Not in a bad way.”

He smiled. “I know what you meant.”

A gust of wind swept by, blowing strands of hair into your face. Without thinking, Finnick reached out, tucking them behind your ear.

You stiffened slightly -- not in fear, not in rejection. Just surprise. A moment of nerves.

His fingers lingered by your jaw just a moment too long. His eyes searched yours.

You stared back, caught.

“I think about you all the time,” he admitted, his voice barely louder than the waves. “And not just the version people know. You.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look away.

He moved in -- slow, slow, slow -- giving you every second to back away.

You didn’t.

His lips met yours in the softest kiss you’d ever felt.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t hungry. It was a confession. A question.

When you kissed him back, it was quiet but certain. Your hand pressed lightly against his chest, as if to keep him close but not too close, not yet.

When the kiss ended, Finnick rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling, hearts thudding in soft unison.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, honest in a way you hadn’t been before.

“So am I,” he whispered back. “But I’m here. Okay?”

You nodded, still not letting go.

Neither did he.

And that was enough -- for now.

379 notes · View notes

twihs-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Guilt and Shame:

A few months ago I wrote the below post on my journey of sobriety. Making my sobriety public was never what I had envisioned when I went crawling into AA defeated. I’ve been thinking a lot recently on my journey as a human being on this planet. It’s a beautiful thing. I’ve been thinking a lot on guilt and shame surrounding my slip up and I suppose I wanted to share with you more on that.

I have been invited to a recovery house in America to help them raise awareness and money for their charity. I of course jumped at the chance, after all, giving back is what we are lead to do. I would be lying though if I said I wasn’t terrified.

The fear of admitting fault of feeling like I let down those around me. Writing this is terrifying but I’m trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and become more attune with me and what my higher power want’s me to do.

I suppose ultimately I want to share this with you as I’ve already opened the door to this part of my life and it seems vital that I continue to do so.

Fear is at the root cause of so many issues regarding addiction in my experience.

I still have anxiety, yesterday I took the tube to see some friends and had to leave half way through my journey due to the overwhelming feeling that I may at any second pass out. Even at dinner this feeling was hard to shake. It’s hard to describe. I walk out on to a stage to talk with you all or play music or act and I feel little of this, however in daily life it can creep in so quickly.

Whilst my consumption of marajuana wasn’t what I would call habitual I recognize that it was a poor attempt at controlling my own feelings, anxiety’s and stressors. Which is backwards because it wasn’t exactly helping with those things either as they still were there regardless.

Living the life I am fortunate enough to live now I recognize those things and how I respond to them now is with choice.

I suppose writing this is an exercise in digging in, in recognizing the feelings of guilt and shame, in owning up to myself and to my world.

The last thing I ever want to be doing is walking out in to my world with a lie.

It’s hard to know how to end this post. I suppose a thank you would be appropriate, I have a deep love for the world and for people in it. I have a love for my world and my higher power and I was very much moved to write this.

With love.

Jamie

731 notes · View notes

asterafroditis · 1 month ago

Note

hi hi! may i please request the housewardens with a reader who is exactly like robin (hsr) or sua (alnst)? if you could make reader have robins little wings too ^_^

𐔌 . ⋮ cosmic celebrity .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Housewardens x Robin/Sua gn! reader

𓏵 2196 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

I'm in both the hsr and alnst fandom so this was a great delight to write!! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

At first, Riddle doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You’re polite, refined, and carry yourself with an air of grace that even the nobility of his world would envy. Yet, there’s something about you that unsettles him—something he can’t place. It isn’t fear, but rather a quiet awe, as if he’s standing before something larger than life.

Your voice is unlike anything he’s ever heard before. When you sing, it isn’t just a melody—it’s a force, a presence that fills the air and lingers long after the last note fades. Even the roses in Heartslabyul’s garden seem to sway in time with your voice, as if nature itself is listening.

You remind him of a fairytale figure: enchanting, mysterious, and somehow just out of reach. He watches how others react to you—how they’re drawn in, how they lean closer, how even the most unruly of students fall silent in your presence. He tells himself that it’s simply your talent, your charisma, that compels them. But deep down, he wonders—do you ever long for something outside of this attention?

He notices the way you slip away when the crowds get too overwhelming, the way you seek quiet corners, away from prying eyes. It’s in those moments that he sees the real you—unburdened, free from expectations. He never tries to keep you from disappearing when you wish to, but if you ever linger a moment longer beside him, he considers it a victory he will never voice aloud.

Despite your cosmic fame, you never make him feel small. If anything, you listen to him, truly listen, in a way few ever do. And when you sing for him—not for a performance, not for an audience, but simply because he is there—he feels something in his heart shift, something he doesn’t yet have the words for.

And when your wings give a small flutter, as if content to be beside him, he dares to think that maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind lingering near him either.

─────────────────────────

Leona isn’t easily impressed. He’s seen talented people come and go, each believing themselves to be special. But you? You’re different. Not just because of your voice—though he won’t deny it has an effect even on him—but because you exist in a space all your own, untouchable by the world’s expectations.

You remind him of the savanna winds—unpredictable, fleeting, impossible to catch. One moment you’re right beside him, and the next, you’re gone, leaving only the echo of your presence behind. He finds himself watching, waiting, wondering when you’ll slip away again. It annoys him more than he’ll admit.

He doesn’t understand why you’d waste your time with him, lounging in the shade while the rest of the world clamors for your attention. But you do. And when you sing—not on stage, not for a crowd, but just absentmindedly beside him—he feels something deep in his chest, a resonance that lingers long after the sound has faded.

Your little wings shift slightly when you stretch, ruffling just a bit when you let out a sigh of contentment. He watches them, lazily flicking his ear in response. He calls you a show-off, but he knows better. You don’t sing to impress. You sing because it’s simply a part of you, as natural as breathing. And that is what unnerves him most—how effortlessly you weave yourself into the lives of others, how even he isn’t immune to your presence.

He won’t ask you to stay when you vanish, but if you ever return to his side, slipping into the shade like you never left, he won’t say a word about it either.

─────────────────────────

Azul thrives on control, on knowing exactly how to sway people in his favor. Yet, when it comes to you, he finds himself at a loss. You’re an enigma—someone who should, by all logic, be easy to manipulate. After all, you’re a performer, a star, someone who relies on the admiration of others. But the more he observes you, the more he realizes—attention doesn’t hold power over you.

You accept it, yes, but you are not bound by it. You exist above it, outside of it. And that unsettles him.

Your voice—your ability—fascinates him in a way he can’t quite explain. It isn’t just about business, though he tells himself it is. The way your music resonates, how it lingers even in the water, how it affects even the merfolk… it’s unlike anything he’s ever encountered. He wants to understand it, to study it, to figure out what makes it so powerful.

But then you turn that gaze on him—calm, knowing, like you see through every carefully crafted façade—and he wonders if, for once, he’s the one being studied. His eyes dart briefly to your small wings, which shift slightly, responding to something unseen. He wonders if they’re attuned to more than just the music—if they sense lies, deceptions, things he keeps hidden behind his careful smile.

When you disappear, he pretends not to care. But when you return, slipping into the lounge as if you never left, he finds himself relaxing just a fraction. He doesn’t need to own your song—some things, he realizes, are far more valuable when left free.

─────────────────────────

Kalim adores you. From the moment he meets you, he’s utterly captivated—not just by your talent, but by you. You’re like a shooting star, brilliant and fleeting, and he wants nothing more than to keep up with you, to chase that light no matter where it leads.

He doesn’t question your elusiveness, nor does he try to keep you from disappearing. Instead, he cherishes every moment you choose to stay, celebrating your presence as if it’s a festival all on its own.

He asks you to sing, not because he wants a performance, but because he genuinely enjoys your voice. And when you do, he listens—not just to the melody, but to the emotion beneath it, to the way it resonates even in the stillest of nights. Sometimes, he watches how your wings react to your own music, perking up at certain notes, quivering with feeling, as if they too are carried away by the sound.

You surprise him often—not with grand gestures, but with the little things. The way you remember the smallest details, the way you can disappear into a crowd yet always seem to know exactly where to find him. It’s those moments, more than anything, that make him realize just how special you are.

He never asks where you go when you vanish, nor does he try to hold you back. He only hopes that, wherever you wander, you’ll always find your way back to him.

─────────────────────────

Vil understands fame. He understands the weight of being watched, the expectations, the pressure. And so, in you, he sees a kindred spirit—someone who walks the same stage yet does so with a grace that seems almost effortless.

He admires your composure, your ability to captivate with a single note, a single glance. Yet, what intrigues him most is your unpredictability. You are refined, elegant, the picture of poise—until you choose not to be. Until you surprise him with a boldness that catches even him off guard.

Your little wings fascinate him. They move with you as naturally as your breath, fluttering in response to your emotions, betraying what you don’t say aloud. He finds them exquisite—another layer of your beauty, another piece of your ethereal presence. Sometimes, he watches them out of the corner of his eye, noting how they react to praise, to exhaustion, to excitement. They make you all the more mesmerizing, a performer even when you do not intend to be.

You are not a puppet to your audience, nor do you seek validation in their praise. You are simply you, untouched by the world’s expectations. And that, more than anything, is what makes you truly beautiful.

He won’t stop you when you disappear—he, more than anyone, understands the need to step away from the spotlight. But when you return, when you stand beside him once more, he will welcome you with open arms, knowing that true stars are not bound by any stage.

─────────────────────────

Idia isn’t easily drawn to people. He’s more comfortable behind a screen, away from prying eyes and social expectations. Yet, when it comes to you, he finds himself unable to look away.

At first, he assumes you’re just another celebrity, another untouchable figure meant to be admired from afar. But you don’t fit into any neat category. You’re famous—cosmically famous—but you carry yourself like someone who doesn’t care for the spotlight. You let people worship your voice, yet remain untouched by their devotion.

It unsettles him. Because he understands idols, performers, people who thrive on attention. But you? You exist outside of it, separate from it, as if the universe itself bends to your whims. And maybe it does.

The first time he hears your song, it’s through his tablet. Someone must have been playing a recording in the dorm, and the sound carried through the halls like an echo from another world. He nearly dismissed it—until he realized that it wasn’t a recording. It was you.

The sound seeped into every shadow, resonated with every circuit and wire. Even Ortho noticed, his sensors picking up strange energy fluctuations. Your voice wasn’t just heard—it was felt, like an unseen force brushing against the very core of his being.

He doesn’t know how to approach you, not at first. You’re unpredictable. Not in the chaotic, overwhelming way that extroverts tend to be, but in the quiet, calculated way that unnerves him. You’re graceful, elusive—but then you do something bold, something completely unexpected, and he has no idea how to react.

Like the time you appeared in front of him, eyes sharp and knowing, before casually inviting him to a game you knew he liked. No expectations, no pressure—just an invitation. And just like that, he was drawn in before he even realized it. Even now, he wonders if you noticed the way his gaze lingered, not just on your expression, but on the way your wings fluttered ever so slightly, as if encouraging him to follow.

He won’t try to keep you from disappearing. But if you ever return, sitting beside him in the dim glow of his monitors, your wings shifting with each quiet movement, he won’t pretend he’s not watching. Because for the first time in a long time, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, some people are worth looking up from the screen for.

─────────────────────────

Malleus has lived for centuries. He has seen the rise and fall of civilizations, watched as stars burned bright before fading into nothingness. And yet, in you, he finds something truly remarkable.

You are not of his world. That much, he knows. There is something about you—something otherworldly—that sets you apart. Not just in the way you carry yourself, but in the way the very air shifts when you speak, when you sing.

Your voice is unlike any magic he has ever encountered. It resonates with everything around you, weaving into the fabric of reality itself. Even the gargoyles seem to react, as if they, too, can hear the echoes of something far greater than what mortal ears can comprehend.

And then, there are your wings.

They are small, yet they move with a grace that intrigues him. They twitch when you’re amused, flutter when you laugh, still completely when you are deep in thought. He has never seen wings like yours before. They are not like a fae’s, nor are they like those of any creature he has encountered.

He longs to ask about them, to reach out and trace the delicate feathers with his fingertips. But he does not.

You are elegant, refined, a performer in every sense of the word. But then, just when he believes he understands you, you do something unexpected. Something bold. Something uncharacteristically human. And it fascinates him to no end.

You are like a dream, fleeting and untouchable, appearing and disappearing without warning. But he never feels as if you are truly gone. No, your presence lingers—in the wind that carries your song, in the silence that follows.

He does not ask where you go when you vanish, nor does he demand that you stay. He simply watches, waiting, wondering if you will return. And when you do—when your voice fills the air once more, like the whisper of forgotten legends—he listens, entranced, knowing that some songs are meant to be heard only for a moment, yet remembered for a lifetime.

362 notes · View notes

uschi-the-listener · 21 days ago

Text

If you care, share

It sounds wild. Maybe even crazy. But every step is already in motion. I’d be happy to be wrong. But if this is correct… you’ll be ready.

On April 20, 2025, the United States may initiate its final steps into authoritarian rule.

That’s the day Donald Trump’s advisory committee is expected to release its findings on whether he should invoke the Insurrection Act — a move that would allow him to deploy the military domestically and allow Trump to impose martial law. (San Francisco Chronicle). Given Hegseth is the main “advisor”, the conclusion is foregone.

And as his two months in office has already shown, he won’t stop at just a legal opinion.

Expect an executive order that same day or the next, officially declaring the Insurrection Act, restricting freedoms in the name of restoring control of the border and in blue-state cities, and setting the larger plan in motion.

Of course, this won’t be framed as an attack on democracy. It will be packaged as a necessary response to crisis — as authoritarian takeovers always are.

But once it happens, there’s no going back.

This will be the point of no return.

This Is How Democracy Ends: Here’s their Playbook

It won’t all happen in one night.

Instead, the process will unfold in stages, each step making resistance harder.

Free elections, a free press, and the right to protest will disappear one piece at a time, until there’s nothing left to save.

My entire goal here is to make people aware, so you can recognize it, and maybe help stop it. It’s all I, personally, can do.

Here’s how it will happen, step by step, after Trump invokes the Insurrection Act with an Executive Order:

1. “Resist!” Demonstrations Grow — Just As Planned

Left-leaning and even more centrist people will be alarmed. Peaceful protests will be organized nationwide, as they already have been being organized now, with growing numbers of people joining protests each week.

The calls to “Resist!” will grow louder, and large-scale demonstrations will begin forming in major cities.

This is exactly what Trump wants. He didn’t invoke the Insurrection Act sooner because he needed his opposition to gather first — so he could use them as a tool for his next step.

He also waited 90 days, instead of invoking it on Day 1 as Project 2025 recommended, so he would have his people in place, and remove those who would oppose them in the government, military, courts, and civil positions.

His cabal is waiting for a strong reaction — they want massive unrest. They need a justification to kick off the next steps in their plan.

2. The False Flag Crisis: Turning Protest into “Terror”

The protests will turn violent quickly. Maybe in a day, maybe during the next big protest the following weekend.

They will turn violent not because of the protesters, but because they will have been infiltrated by agents provocateurs, from militia groups like The Proud Boys, whose goal is to escalate as quickly as possible and give Trump and his cabal an excuse to trigger the next stage.

Expect “terrorist” bombings, targeted assassinations, or high-profile acts of violence, either staged or exploited, to justify the crackdown.

There may even be an extremely high profile assassination of a leading right-wing leader that changes everything in a moment… and the “woke radicals” will be blamed, and the country will rally around more extreme measures to bring back order and control.

The media will be flooded with images of chaos, pushing the public into a state of fear. Calls for “order” will follow.

3. Trump Declares Expanded Martial Law — And Calls for Militia to assist the police and Military

Trump has already invoked the Insurrection Act — so now he now declares even more extensive and repressive martial law, and orders troops into major US cities where most oppose him, branding protesters and opponents as “seditionists,” “traitors,” and the “woke mob”.

He will call on “good Americans” to grab their guns, like the patriots of 1776, and join the militias forming to “restore order” and “take back control” from the leftist threat. Using militias also gets him around resistance from military leaders who might oppose his orders.

The militias already exist — the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, Three Percenters, and others — and they are not some distant fringe. They were at January 6. The most extreme and radicalized are all released from prison now. They are ready to roll, and to answer Trump’s call, which they were waiting for four years ago.

The miliita members are your neighbors. The difference between them and you? These neighbors own and have been training with AR-15s. You and your friends? Not so much.

This will be framed as “helping the police” and “keeping order.” Law enforcement will quietly welcome them — or, in some cases, will deputize them, with Trump’s support.

4. Mass Arrests of Opposition Leaders

Journalists, Democratic officials, and activists will be arrested under charges of sedition, terrorism, or “inciting violence.”

Expect Mark Milley, Liz Cheyney, and Adam Kinzinger to be arrested quickly and with great press coverage. How long the show trials take is probably a good measure of how much control Trump has established over the courts.

Key Democratic governors and attorneys general will be removed first, ensuring no state-level resistance.

Law enforcement and military ranks will be purged, with loyalty tests ensuring only Trump-aligned officers remain.

5. Military & National Guard Take Over Major Cities

Expect deployments in Washington, D.C., New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and other blue-state strongholds.

Curfews and lockdowns will be imposed, justified as measures to “restore peace.”

Checkpoints and military policing will become the new normal. Expect them in particular along major highways going to Canada or Mexico, and in red states — to identify and detain seditionists, traitors, and people of questionable loyalty.

Trump’s building of detainment centers in Guantanamo, and expansion of the 106 other ICE detention centers, was not actually intended for illegal migrants. And just a few days ago, Blackwater founder and Billionaire Erik Prince offered to help Trump “privatize deportation camps” as has been being done with prisons per Trump’s Day 1 Executive Order. So now Trump has an extrajudicial place to store the disloyal and those who resist, in for-profit camps guarded by militias and loyal military. Until he decides what to do with them.

6. Press Censorship & Total Media Control

Independent news outlets will face shutdowns or takeovers. Those that resist will see their journalists arrested or harassed.

Mainstream media will be forced into compliance. Blackmail, corporate pressure, and legal threats will ensure they toe the line.

Social media platforms like X (Twitter) will amplify the official narrative, drowning out opposition.

Other social media and lines of communication will be turned off. The Internet will be monitored, people identified from this monitoring for arrest, using Palantir technology. Peter Thiel, who I’ve written about before, is co-founder of Palantir. We will fully enter thesurveillance state.

7. Borders Close & Dissidents Are Trapped Inside

Passports will be revoked for critics and opponents. If you’re on a list, you’re not leaving.

No-fly lists will expand to include activists and journalists.

ICE and DHS will be weaponized — not just against immigrants, but against political enemies.

8. Elections Are “Postponed” Indefinitely

The 2026 midterms will be suspended under the excuse of national security concerns.

Red-state legislatures will eliminate Democratic-leaning districts, ensuring permanent Republican control.

By 2028, Trump (or his handpicked successor) will run unopposed. Elections will be a formality, probalby still held. But rigged.

Project 2025 and the Insurrection Act: This Was Always the Plan

This isn’t speculation.

The Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 lays out a detailed strategy for permanent right-wing control.

It openly advocates using the Insurrection Act to crush opposition and dismantle the administrative state.

Trump isn’t improvising — he’s following a script.

We Can’t Wait — The Time to Act Is Now

We can’t sit back and wait for Trump to fire the starting gun — because once he does, it will already be too late.

We need to prepare now.

We need to plan now.

We need to dismantle his plans before they begin.

We have one month.

That’s it.

The Only Way to Stop this Coup is by Exposing It

The only way I can think of to stop this conspiracy, which is in final planning stages, is through exposure.

If people see the playbook in advance, they will be less likely be manipulated when it happens.

They might question the narrative. “Wait. This is what they said would happen. I thought it was crazy. But maybe…”

We need to spread this narrative far and wide so that when the moment comes, no one can claim ignorance.

Maybe we will be proven wrong.

Maybe we will look silly.

Or maybe… we will have derailed the plan, by telling people what to look for, to recognize the playbook steps as (if) they happen.

Here’s what we must do before April 20:

Empower the press, law enforcement, military, and elected officials to recognize the game that’s being played. They need to understand what’s happening before they are pressured to go along with it.

Share this post, or write your own. Do your own research. Don’t take my word for it. Talk with your friends and family about this crazy conspiracy theory that can’t rally happen… can it? So if and when the steps actually happen, people recognize it for what it is.

Prepare the public so they don’t take the bait. Trump and his cabal want protests to explode into chaos. They want violence in the streets to justify their crackdown. We must be ready to outmaneuver them — to refuse to be used as pawns in their game.

Stand up to the militias — and stop friends and family from joining them. The Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, and other armed groups will be mobilized as Trump’s shock troops. They will be framed as “restoring order” and “helping the police.” We need to be ready to counter this, to make sure our neighbors, friends, and family don’t get sucked in.

Inoculate our fellow citizens against the propaganda. Most Americans are good people — but good people can be misled. They can be scared into compliance. Our job is to make sure they see what’s happening before it’s too late.

The only way to stop this plot is to expose it, reject it, and make it unmistakably clear to every American what is happening. We must stop these malign forces from enacting their will on our country, the world, and each of us and our families.

What if we Don’t Stop It?

If it is not stopped, and Trump enacts the Insurrection Act, at that point we probably only have 48 to 72 hours to try to stop everything from happening after the Executive Order.

Once martial law is imposed, there will be a tiny window — no more than three days — before resistance becomes nearly impossible.

Stopping it before it happens is the best option.

But what if we don’t?

In my next post, I’ll outline peaceful, strategic ways to resist — while we still can. And what our reduced options are if it still happens.

If we don’t act before April 20, then by April 23, it will already be too late.

173 notes · View notes

rpclefairy · 1 year ago

Text

𝐁𝐆𝟑 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

a selection of lines from the various companions' banter quotes (not cut scene dialogues!) from baldur's gate 3. these are generally spoiler free and non context specific so they can apply to different settings and dynamics! feel free to change names and the like to customize the prompts.

“Death can't have me. Not yet…”

“Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.”

“Realmspace is vast. Countless worlds to be mapped, kingdoms to be conquered.”

“I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kicking of butts!

“Let me guess - you need something.”

“Such attention.. I never realised I was so popular.”

“Let's cook with fire, baby.”

“Do you intend to vocalise every thought?. Or just the most obvious ones?”

“Wherever we go, ye gods let there be something green.”

“Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.”

“Watch your elders and learn.”

“Perhaps try attacking the enemy?”

“So much we don't know, lingering in the furthest reaches of existence.”

“All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.”

“The shadows are my friend.”

“Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.”

“Feet planted firmly on Faerûn, please.”

“Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities.”

“Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you?”

“I am ready, whatever may come.”

“My faith protects me.”

“Need a throat slitting?”

“Death greets us all - but not today.”

“You need my expertise?”

“Can you feel death's cold grip?”

“So many stars, so many mysteries yet to be discovered.”

“Death comes quietly.”

“And I thought we were going to be friends.”

“Locked tight, but there must be some way to open it.”

“No, you can't die. Get up, damn you!

“You had my attention, now you have my fury.”

“From silence to suffering.”

“So many worlds out there. You'd need a thousand lifetimes to see them all - more.”

“I hope this is important. For your sake.”

“Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.”

“I ought to just burn this whole thing down.”

“We have slightly more pressing matters to attend to.”

“You have still have time to surrender.”

“Every kicked buttock, another step on the path.”

“Weave save me. I can't take much more…

“You are right to fear me.”

“Let me look around. Might be something that'll help me crack this thing.”

“Incredible, to think how many worlds exist beyond this tiny speck within a speck I call home.”

“I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.”

“I can fawn over my face later.”

“Ready for another round?”

“Keep your blade close.”

“I can't unlock it from here, but there must be a switch or a button somewhere…”

“No, that's not moving. There must be a way to open it somewhere.”

“Battle favours the fearless.”

“Sleep with one eye open, evil. Maybe both.”

“Gotta be something around here to unlock this thing.”

“Why do beautiful people taste better?. It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities.”

“Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too.”

“Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.”

“Still standing, no matter what you heard.”

“Enough waiting. I crave blood.”

“Hang on - I won't allow this. You aren't dead, go it?”

“GODS, it's HOT in here!”

“No rest for the wicked, I see.”

“Better to hide than fight, sometimes.”

“Would that I could hide from you, too.”

“Are you feeling lonely, perhaps?”

“There is no right or wrong, only truth.”

“Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe.”

“What good all this ethereal eladrin blood if I can still get pimples?”

“I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.”

“I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness.”

“Let's have some fun.”

“War is an old woman's game.”

“No rest, be you wicked or wise.”

“I'm getting too old for this nonsense.”

“I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want.”

“You have my attention - now do something with it.”

“You are insistent, are you not?”

“Do what must be done.”

“Your suffering will be spectacular.”

“Lest I sit down for a rest and not rise again.”

“Better to look evil in the eye. Even if it be very small.”

“I'm not built to crouch.”

“I think I could go another round.”

“Always the same old song.”

“Is perfection too much to ask?”

“Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.”

“So many places to be.. and I chose Baldur's Gate.”

“I'm not opening that. Not from here, at any rate.”

“What is the point, if not victory?”

“Won't last much longer like this.”

“Let's hope the locals are friendly.”

“Let us show them how it's done.”

“Weapons high. Standards higher.”

“Must everyone be so exhausting?”

“What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb…”

“Which way to the nearest library?”

“Now this is my happy place.”

“Who shall I silence?”

“Stop, or die.”

“Wear your scars proudly.”

#indie rp #rp meme #rp ask meme #sentence starter #rp prompts #bg3 prompts #rp sentence starters

2K notes · View notes

huffelpuff210 · 11 months ago

Text

Ours Soft Dark Stucky x Omega Reader

Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Warning: Stalking, kidnapping, drugging, confinement, dark themes, Non Con, man handling, threats, mentions of past abuse,

Summary: Day by Day Both Bucky and Steve feel like something is missing in their lives that is until they meet you.

You work as a RN at the nearby hospital, you were just leaving an agonizing fourteen hour shift, dead tired,

You were walking past a store, where there were TV’s you could watch from outside of the window,

The news was on,

“This is Becky reporting from Stark tower where in a few minutes Alpha Tony Stark is going to make his big announcement.” The news lady says,

You stand there with your arms crossed, a lot of people on the street were crowding around as well,

The Alpha’s in Stark tower are a big deal to everyone so when they make an announcement it’s normally a big uproar

Tony walks out to the stage,

“Good afternoon everyone, as everyone may have been aware, the decrease in Omega’s in the past decade have declined drastically.” He says

It was no secret that Omega’s appear less and less each year, in fact you read in the paper that there is 1 out of 5% that anyone would come across one, You were in fact one, but you take suppressants and wear a special perfume to mask the smell,

“So as of today, I have signed a bill passing that if you are an Omega you must register, due to the decrease in our species this law is in effect as of today.” Tony says

You eyes widen,

“We also have a stations in each clinic to ensure you can find a place to register.” He says

This made your blood boil, You didn’t like Alpha’s to begin with, Your father and brother’s made sure of that, always talking down to you like you were nothing compared to them, abusing you any chance they got, telling you, that you were nothing but a tool a mutt that your only purpose in life was to breed,

And here is another example of how much you hate and yet fear alpha’s they think they can control Omega’s,

“If any Omega’s fail to comply we will have no choice but to place you in a special program.” Tony says

“That will be all thank you.” He says walking off stage,

You shake your head and make your way to your apartment, but you couldn’t help this feeling that someone was watching you, You stop in your tracks, to look around listening, smelling, but there were too many scents, you brush it off as fatigue and paranoia.

You finally enter your apartment, it wasn’t much given the salary to make, barely scraping by, but it was the only way, the only way to avoid detection not just from Alpha’s but your family that has been on the hunt for you since you ran away when you were sixteen, you are now twenty one, but they still continue to hunt you like an animal,

All because you are an Omega,

After taking your suppressant and showering, you are laying in bed when a smell catches your attention, It smelled like pine, and cinnamon, you sit up quickly, it wasn’t your father or brother’s but you don’t notice the smell which causes you to panic,

You peek through the curtains not seeing a single person, you make sure everything is locked,

You peek out the peep hole at your door, no one,

You feel your heart rate slow down hoping you were just imagining it,

Bucky just couldn’t believe his luck, he was on his way to the tower, when a smell caught his attention, sure it was very faint but his sense of smell is stronger than most Alpha’s it smelled like vanilla with a hint of cedar

“Omega...” He whispers

He finds a small petite woman, with long dark hair and green eyes, she was beautiful, but by the smell she’s definitely on something she shouldn’t be on,

He opens his phone to call Steve as he follows her from a distance,

“Steve, Your not going to believe what I found.” He says with a smirk on his lips,

You didn’t go to work for a few days, you were getting paranoid, the smell kept getting stronger as if someone was in your apartment or on the fire escape at the window,

But your boss called you today, telling you if you didn’t come in today you were fired,

So you cautiously leave your apartment, just as you were locking the door an arm wrapped around your neck, with a hand covering your mouth,

You elbow the attacker causing him to grunt, but he didn’t loosen his grip,

“Shhh, sweetheart, we’re here now.” You hear a man’s voice whisper in your ear,

suddenly there was a jab of a needle in your upper arm, you watch as the liquid is injected in your arm,

“Everything will be alright.” Another voice says

you feel your limbs give way, and your vision blur slowly slipping into darkness,

Bucky catches you as you fall, picking you up bridal style, your head against his chest,

Steve moves your dark hair out of your face,

“She’s beautiful.” Steve says

“Told you.” Bucky says

“She’s light though.” Bucky says again,

“It’s alright she has us now.” Steve says placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder,

Bucky nods, as they both smile down at you

515 notes · View notes

walpu · 1 year ago

Note

hey, hey, I don't know how many times I've read your post "pre-relationship" especially aventurine part (omg i love how you write abt him 😭). I wonder how it will be once they are in a relationship and the kissing part please :3 thank u and have a nice day!

THANK YOUUUUU

Hope you'll enjoy this post too💛💛💛

being in a relationship with Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (do I even write something other that hurt/comfort for him lmao), no beta

can be seen as a part 2 of this post but it can stan on it's own as well

Aventurine

It would take quite some time for Aventurine to move from the pre-relationship stage with you. Will dance around the subject, throwing hints and flirty remarks but as for making an actual move? Oof.

Would cling to your side and shamelessly say something like "aww, can't get enough of me? people may think we're dating <З unless that's what you want them to think haha"

Pathetic. /affectionally.

But seriously, he really wants to be sure that you like him before making a move. That you like him, not his money, not the idea of him. At least that's what he tells himself. And while this is part of the reason, the actual thing is that he's simply... confused. He's already more vulnerable around you than he ever was around anyone else. And dating means being even more vulnerable.

While he yearns for this genuine connection he's also a scared of it. Tim Kreider wrote the line "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" about him actually.

It would take some time for him to get used to being in relationship. In the previous post I've mentioned that he, most likely, had some short flings in the past. I seriously doubt that he ever had any serious relationship before you though. It's so new to him. At first it would seem like nothing has changed between the two of you at all. Surprisingly, it looks like he even became a bit more distant.

Aventurine doesn't want to attract any unwanted attention to your relationship since it will only endanger you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm himself. Plus he is scared shitless.

He can't help but feel that he looses everything he holds dear. After all, it's been like that for all of his life. And he simply can't loose you.

Mini spoiler for his leaked character story, but there is a moment there when he looks at the aventurine stone Diamond gave him and he realizes that despite the fact that he worked so hard for it, now that he has it, it holds no real value since it doesn't fill the emptiness inside of him. Logically, he knows that this won't happen with you. He loves you too much. But there's this subconscious fear inside of him that he's just so messed up inside that he simply would not be able to love you like you deserve.

Be patient with him, this mans doesn't know what he's doing. Don't give up on him and he'll crawl to your side, holding onto you for dear life.

Once he will calm down a bit, he'll make it up for all those times when you were the one reaching out to him. Texts you, calls you, arranges spontaneous dates.

In the beginning of relationship would spoil you with expensive gifts. He knows what it's like to have nothing so he doesn't want you to ever feel this way. And the best way to prevent it? To make sure that you will have anything and everything. Maybe it's a subconscious way to bribe you. Maybe. Not like he realizes it himself.

Once he'll feel more stable and more confident, his gift giving tendencies will get less overwhelming. He still like giving you gifts but now he picks and chooses. His sugar darling deserves only the best, after all.

Acts all clingy, playful and unserious but actually listens to your every word and is ready to fulfil your every need.

Is actually very caring. Shows his care by pestering you and easing you tho.

If you feel down, will sit stay by your side. May randomly start tickling you, if you're ticklish. If not, will find another way to touch you in a playful and somewhat annoying way. After you cheer up a bit, Aven will put his chin on your shoulder and hugs your waist, softly asking what happen and why is his dearest darling seems sad.

As for kisses. Aven will loooove covering your face with butterfly kisses. And not only your face. Will randomly grab your hand and kiss your knuckles and fingertips. If you've made a mistake of exposing your shoulder then be ready for it to be kissed endlessly.

Adores kissing those parts of your body that are usually covered with clothes. It feels fore intimate for him.

And if you have freckles or/and beauty marks. Oh well. Will trace them with his fingertips, connecting them with some invisible lines and sometimes gasp playfully, saying that he found his constellation. Just a silly little guy being a silly little guy.

So touch-starved it's unreal.

Has very mixed feeling about his tattoo being kissed. Would feel... weirs if you would kiss it during your casual cuddling session. He exposes it for the world to see, yes. But still, when it attracts attention of someone who knows the meaning behind it... Makes him a bit tense, it catches him off-guard. However, if you kiss it after a lovemaking session or when he shares some painful memories with you, he will feel reassured.

Will slowly start crawling out of his shell when he's with you. Before he only shared some brief memories of his past with you, now he'll start slowly opening up about other, much more painful stuff.

It still happens randomly and out of the blue. He remembers something, he tenses up. But now, instead of repressing this feelings, he shares them with you.

Don't push him too talk, he'll slowly open up on his own.

Loves waking up next to you. Especially if you're still asleep. Seeing the sun shining on your face fills him with love and tenderness. Only with you by his side he feels truly safe.

#one day i'll learn to control my word vomit and my post'll stop being so fuckass long #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine #walp's writing #reader insert

767 notes · View notes

sleepyangelkami · 1 year ago

Note

pls do more of carl grimes😭🙏🙏 (can be smut or fluff idrc🤭)

TROUBLE ADJUSTING c.grimes

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

CARL GIMES X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - there was a heavy difference between travelling the roads filled with dead people walking and alexandria, a place that you fear is too much like the old world. you have some trouble adjusting, luckily your boyfriend carl doesn't mind you using him as a human shield.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - anxiety, social anxiety, obvious attachment issues, aged up characters, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the roads were unlike anything you'd ever experienced in your entire life.

the prison wasn't exactly the best option but it was safe and it was secure. it kept the dead out and the living in. when you were at the prison, you were never told to leave the grounds. perhaps that was why the road had been such a shock to you and not the others.

you thought when you and the others got off the roads and found a new place to settle down, things would mellow out.

and by things, i mean the elephant in the room between you and carl.

you and carl had been dating for quite some time now. you'd always been close, you supposed. but on the roads? he was your safe haven. you slowly began isolating yourself into just you and him.

though he never minded, of course.

if anything, it put carl a little at ease, knowing you were always so close to him. during the prison, he worried tremendously about you, where you were during the night, what you were doing. you two weren't permitted to sleep in a cell together, at that stage.

but rick's rules began to disappear when death began to slap him in the face over and over. if anything were to happen to any of you, he'd like to think you lived doing what you wanted, what made you happy.

besides, you didn't really have anyone other than the grimes' family.

michonne and you had moved into the large grimes' house in alexandria. rick and michonne were at one end of the hall, judith's room somewhere in between and then it was carl's room. you didn't like to call it your room seeing as it wasn't your house. but the grimes' let you know that it was as much your house as it was theres.

"you wanna go for a walk or something?" carl questioned causing your head to move from his shoulder.

you and carl had this sort of ritual of reading comic books together since the beginning of the breakout. you were thankful that at least that didn't change now that you were in alexandria. "do you want to?"

carl shrugged, debating. sure, he wanted to. at the same time, he worried for you. it was evident that the change hadn't been good for you. once so bubbly and outgoing, you'd sort of shrunk into yourself. now, you didn't even feel all that comfortable talking to rick. "why not? the place is huge."

that much was true.

you'd never seen a place as huge as this, even before the breakout. you only worried that you may run into someone on the way.

"what's going on up there, baby?" his finger tapped against your head, bringing you back.

with a bitten lip, you tried your best to conceal the obvious anxiety bubbling in your chest. "i don' know... i jus' don't wanna see anyone."

"we don't have to." he shrugged his shoulders. "we'll just keep reading the comic." before relaxing back into the pillows of his bed.

but you couldn't leave it at that. "but you want to. you should go without me." feeling bad that you were restricting him from doing the things he wanted.

he could only chuckle lowly. "don't be silly, angel. wouldn't go nowhere without you." he didn't realise it, but truthfully, it had been the most comforting thing you'd heard all week.

you'd had so much worry caught in your throat about going out and meeting people that you began to think you were weighing the others down, too. "but i feel bad." you mumbled, voicing your feelings to the only person you felt like you could.

carl was quick to shush you. "i was just suggesting, maybe another day. y'know, now that i think about it, i'm kind of in the mood for hot coco and a movie, what d'you say?" though he was already getting up from the bed.

you sat criss-cross legged on the bed, practically pouting at him. "you don't like hot coco." you informed him, knowing what he was getting at.

"why can't you just let me do something nice for my pretty girl, hm?" lifting out his hand to you and letting you take it.

carl would never force you to talk to anyone.

a couple more days in the new community passed and rick was beginning to get worried. of course, he knew you and carl weren't normal teenagers, you never would be after the things you'd experienced in your lives. but he wanted you to be as normal as could be, and that included at least trying to make friends.

obviously, the man hadn't picked up on the obvious anxiety that followed you like a dark cloud over your head. so, he made arrangements with the blonde woman who lived down the street who had a son about your guy's age. who had a girlfriend and another guy friend. rick thought there would be no harm in at least meeting them. and if you came back to the house, not liking them, then he wouldn't force you guys to go back.

simple.

or at least it should have been.

you were sure you were shaking like a leaf by the time you made your way to the white door from across the street. worried you'd be looked at oddly, you didn't hold carl's hand, though you stayed silent, behind him.

the woman, jessie anderson, let you in with a smile on her face.

then you met her son, ron. "so mikey and enid are upstairs waiting for us, got some cool games if you play."

"uh, sure." as much as carl wasn't the awkward type, he still felt sort of odd in someone else's house. perhaps that was because he never experienced the whole 'teenager sleepover' thing.

you followed carl up the stairs, staying eerily close to him. you heard ron talk, even crack a joke. carl laughed and made a joke back. but truthfully, their words fell on deaf ears for you. your eyes travelled around the house, glancing to the family portraits hanging and so on.

you didn't look back until ron opened his bedroom door, allowing you both in and shutting it again. "hey guys." a boy with black hair whipped around and the girl who was sat on the bed, comic in hand, didn't bother looking up.

"oh, hey." the boy didn't exactly say hi to ron, more so to carl and you.

"hi." the girl spoke, not so much as looking away from the pretty coloured pages.

"so, this is mikey." pointing to the black haired boy who nodded swiftly before turning back to the gaming console he'd been playing on. "and enid." the girl who finally glanced up, eyeing the two of you before nodding. "and guys, this is carl and... sorry, what was your name again?"

three pairs of oggling eyes on you. you felt your own eyes widen and your mouth part, a little dry. suddenly, your own name was caught in your throat.

"y/n." carl responded for you, loud and proud as if he'd wanted to boast about you. "her name's y/n." instinctively, you found yourself shuffling closer to the boy, trying to make yourself as unseen as possible.

you swore you didn't leave his side the entire time you spent there. he got comfortable on the ground, back against the bed while ron sat above you two, at the edge, mikey on the desktop chair and enid, now on her second comic.

"so, how long you two been together?" you glanced up at the sound of mikey's voice. he was a well put together boy, expensive sweater and a collared shirt beneath. you were suddenly thankful for carl's dirty boots, cowboy hat and loose flannels. "been third wheeling these two for like forever. i know a couple when i see one."

carl and ron both huffed out a laugh, you did not. "yeah, we've been together for like forever too." carl's head turned to give you a graceful smile, one that had your cheeks turning a light pink before smiling back ever so softly. "hey, where's the, uh, where's the bathroom?"

you were almost tempted to grasp his arm and tell him you were coming with.

"just out the hall, first door to the right." ron answered, without taking his eyes off the screen.

"thanks, man." carl's baby blue's turned back to your nervous face. "i'll be back in a second, okay?"

you nodded, though you could feel the colour drain from your face without even looking in a mirror. carl left as quickly as he could, deciding that the quicker he left, the quicker he would be back. "so..." ron voiced again. you suddenly wondered how much he liked the sound of his voice, seeing as he wouldn't stay quiet for longer than a full minute. "not much of a talker?" you nodded your head softly before hearing the loud crash on the video game, jumping a little. "jumpy too huh?" you breathed out a sigh, shying in on yourself.

"don't worry." enid voiced, only now choosing to speak. "you get used to the noise again."

this caused your head to spin, what was she talking about. and without even having to ask, ron answered your question. "enid was on the roads too. i heard your group was on the road for a while, how was it?"

how was it?

"scary." you answered shortly, turning backwards and feeling your hands become clammy.

if there was one thing you wanted to forget, it was the roads. every day, it seemed as though you were loosing someone else. every day, you faced death and it stared you back right in the eyes. panic would come over you, wheeze it's way through your lungs.

carl would always hold you back, close to him as he stabbed his way through walkers with the others. but even that was a comfort to none.

every day, you were living, wondering if it'd be your last.

"i'll bet. i couldn't imagine living without my xbox." he snorted before pressing the shooting button again and letting bullets fly. it was now that you wished carl was next to you again, at least then you could squeeze his hand 'til it turned purple.

you wondered if everyone here was that shallow. if everyone only worried about their xbox or their stupid assets that in the long run, meant nothing.

"so, what do you think about alexandria?" this time it was mikey who'd asked the question.

"scary." you huffed out again. "but a different kind of scary."

"intimidating." enid answered for you. "it'll be like that for a while but you get used to it, just like the noise." you could tell that she was one of the good ones. the ones who don't care about silly things like objects. you could tell she'd seen the horrors you had, too.

"thanks." you mumbled, sheepishly glancing down to your fingers.

soon enough, carl returned from the bathroom, catching onto your face full of anxiety. he excused you both, stating that his dad needed help rearranging furniture or something or other. stupidly enough, the others believed you and soon bid a goodbye.

when you left, it felt like you could finally breathe again. you let out a breath of relief, fluttering your eyes shut and opening them again. carl was careful to peer at your face. "what'd you think?"

"the girl's nice." you mumbled.

"yeah? think so?" you could only nod in response. "well that's good, maybe you guys'll become friends. and the guys?"

you shrugged. "ron talks a lot." this caused carl to grin, a laugh puffing out from his cheeks causing you to do the same. it was much easier to laugh when it was just you and carl, even after everything you two had been through. "did you like 'em?"

"i guess." he gently nudged his nose against your cheek. "nothing compared to you, though." you couldn't help but roll your eyes, pretty smile dancing on your cheeks.

you huffed out again, noticing the way your chest suddenly felt clear of knots. "that was scary." you spoke honestly.

carl nodded his head, understanding that it wasn't exactly your thing. "it'll get better, though. just takes some getting used to." you couldn't agree more. "you're just having a little trouble adjusting, that's all. but you got me, right?"

the boy's elbow nudged you causing you to giggle softly and lean against his shoulder. "yeah, i got you."

he pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your hair. "c'mon, let's go pick out another comic."

now that sounded like fun.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

547 notes · View notes

muntitled · 1 year ago

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐄𝐏. 𝐈 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐦𝐚𝐧

❝ 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣? ❞

Pairings: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Being begrudgingly seduced by the anarchist

Warnings: Language, Enemies to Lovers, Cop!Reader, Revolutionary!Seonghwa, Implied Violence, Crazy Form!Au, Seduction, Smut (+18, minors dni) Corruption Kink, Innocence Kink, Masochism, Humping, Fingering, pet names, Rough Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Dom!Seonghwa, Sub!Reader, Squirting, Humiliation, Unprotected Sex, Hate Sex

A/n: I might turn this into a series featuring all the Pirates with their own smutty little parts because I cannot help re-watching the Crazy Form mv. It's too good

The very sight of the undulating mosh pit has your stomach rolling with nausea as you enter the dimly lit warehouse. The corrugated walls are illuminated only by various splotches of neon paint, and you suddenly feel the uncanny need to pray as you enter the crowd.

You begin to grow fearful, not onky because this crowd might birth a fresh panic attack, but because you fear for your focus as well.

That you may not be swayed from your mission.

The Intel that led you and your police partner here had been incredibly difficult to come by because every one of their little followers were so terribly loyal.

So naturally, upon receiving a tip off about a show being hosted on the seedier outskirts of town, you had no choice but to attend.

In this unpredictable field of law enforcement, of one thing you are completely certain: There will always be a clear distinction between the good and the bad and they are as bad as they come.

They are common criminals, and there is nothing else to it.

In fact, referring to them as anything but, feels like a gross display of exaltation. Exaltation, which is, evidently, what they are used to.

Disgust is smeared across your face as you and your police partner sieve your way through drunken bodies swaying to the sound of Seonghwa's voice. Although you're shoving roughly past people, all in an attempt to get to the front of the stage, you can not help but marvel at the crowd, undulating to the beat of a bandit.

His face, along with the faces of 7 of his fellow delinquents were smeared across every wanted poster in the city, and yet here he is, raging into a microphone while the crowd cheers his name.

“If I hear ‘Seonghwa’ one more time I fear I might shoot myself in the foot,” you call out, to your partner not far behind, “Keep a tight grip on your weapons, please,” you say, craning your neck back as you palm cradles your back pocket with the Glock 14 nestled inside, “We don't know what any of these idiots are on and I dont think we want to find out.”

Your civilian attire is successful in keeping the attention off of you and your partner as you break out of the heat and anxiety of the moshpit, right in front of center stage.

Seonghwa is right above you, cradling a microphone as if it were the Holy grail while his accomplice, a very inebriated San, bounds across the stage, stirring up the crowd like Seonghwa's personal hypeman.

You could almost feel your vexation increasing to ungodly heights.

Everything about this egregious display of egomania makes your blood boil raging hot, and although these are only 2, you find your hands clenching in anticipation of being one step closer to putting all 8 behind bars.

Your hatred seems to be oozing out of your pores because soon, you catch his attention. Perched on a stage elevated amongst the masses, he is looking at you now. You. Instead of any of the other drunken groupies in the crowd begging to get even a sliver of attention.

With both hands cuffed around the mic, he peers down at you and winks before belting out the final words of the song.

How badly you itched to bind his wrists with your silver cuffs.

How badly you wished to get him and his insolent underlings off the streets.

"They do know how to capture an audience… we can at least give them that," Your head snaps sideways as the words of your partner rouses what little patience you're already working with.

You tap lightly at his badge. The sound of your nail hitting the metal is drowned out by the raucaus applaud but your police partner watches you intently as you cooly say, “Don't forget why we're here, Sergeant,” your voice holds caution as the noise of the crowd trickles down.

The set ends, and the man on stage drenched in flamboyant white linen bids the crowd a ‘Very good night’. He strolls off stage, not without giving you one last, knowing glance.

‘If you catch me, it's because I let you catch me,’ is what those eyes seem to be saying.

So much for blending into an unsuspecting crowd.

“These are not your friends. They're common criminals.” Your voice is louder now, with the absence of that Seonghwa's cacophony. “Stay here, make sure none of these degenerates kill themselves.” You're hellbent om following Seonghwa off the stage, but your partner's light snickers have you pausing slightly. You raise your eyebrows in questioning.

“You speak about them like they're not just fans," Your partner shakes his graying head, "Like they're complicit,”

“They are." You almost immediately reply with a narrowed gaze. "As far as I'm concerned, their fans are just as bad as them.”

With those parting words you make your way towards the part of the warehouse sectioned off from the rest of the crowd, where Seonghwa and his accomplice disappeared off to in the wake of their applause.

You reach what appears to be a backroom hidden behind the makeshift stage. It is far quieter than the rest of the warehouse pulsating with cacophony. You do not miss the slight apprehension that swallows you whole when your feet stop you from venturing over the threshold.

“It doesn't look like you have a backstage pass,” San sits beside Seonghwa on a couch positioned in the focal point of the small room. You recognize hid face as another one of the men whose visage was stamped in a very large police docket on your desk.

“Apologies,” you murmer to San, “I only have one of these,” you raise your police ID to the side of your face and San rises from his seat in mild curiosity. He sinks closer to you while Seonghwa, the man who held most of your attention, sits reclined, with his legs spread on the wide sectional.

He sits lazily, almost kingly under a giant white sheet. A flag plastered to the wall, with a giant, obnoxious, A carelessly spray painted in black.

“I thought we said no fans allowed backstage." San says in a sing-song voice, blatantly ignoring your badge with his giant shoulders now bending down to your height. The circumference of his hat casts a wide shadow over you, all in a clear display of intimidation. "That counts for pigs, too.”

His steely gaze never wavers from your face, and you fight valiantly to keep your emotions tamed under a calm, nonchalant reserve. "If you're a cop, where's your uniform?" San does an obnoxious display of racking his eyes over your body.

"Your dad's place," you whisper cooly, "I couldn't put it on in time."

Your words have an unmistakable smile cracking on the sides of San's face. "I enjoyed that very much."

"I thought a degenerate like you might." Despite your words, San is still smiling. In fact, you fear yourself at risk of slipping right into that enchanting gaze of his were it not for the interception of the third voice in the room.

“How interesting,” Seonghwa's voice cuts through the tension blistering between you and San like a white, hot knife.

“Leave us.” San's head snaps backward towards his accomplice, and all Seonghwa does is smile as they communicate, quite literally without words right in front of you. Seonghwa evidently 'says' what is needed in order to get San slyly leaving room. Not before tipping his hat in parting.

With your attention now focused solely on the man ok the couch, drenched in the white linen, whose arms are outstretched and resting on the headrest, you suddenly find yourself completely and unfortunately unsure.

You had met plenty of prisoners. Dined with manner delinquents and questioned many criminals, it is only in his presence when you feel your usually tough reserve quaking at the smallest fraction. In the face of what is apparently true rebellion.

“Why don't you have a seat,” he snickers when he finds you already stepping over the threshold, making yourself all too comfortable in an evil space. Nothing good existed beyond this point.

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” There is a depth to his voice that is regrettably tickling down the edge of your spine, dousing every bit of pateince you had.

“You call it a show… I call it inciting a riot,” you shrug, finally choosing to sit beside him on the wide sectional. Far too close beside him and his outstretched arms.

Despite the warning bells, you refuse to exhibit any fear.

“Is that why you're here?” His voice remains steady as he focuses it on tracing the tips of his fingers against your shoulder. He wants to see how quickly his touch could elicit a valley of goosebumps.

He is all too pleased to find you shivering in protest.

“You're here to arrest me?” In all honesty, Seonghwa enjoyed watching you try to push him away for the sake of your precious morals. Call it masochism, but there is something enticing about a woman who so very clearly abhors everything he stands for. Seonghwa cannot help but find it almost irresistible. His captain always remarked on Seonghwa's enjoyment for not only fixing broken things but also obsessing over them.

You did not know that the frown plastered across your face only accelerated his racing heart more. Desire plunged through his arteries as he immediately recognized you as a challenge.

Something to perhaps break.

It would be so incredibly satisfying, especially because you represented everything he despised in this wretched world.

Order.

“Actually, no.” You say, staving off another shivsr as you evade Seonghwa’s steadily heavy growing eyelids. “We received a call that someone was disturbing the peace.”

“In an abandoned warehouse?” He asks, voice airy and tone almost dismissive because he is much closer to you now, leaning towards you, as if enchanted by your very scent. You watch him with apprehension as you begin to feel the very first signs of what you regrettably realize to be attraction.

However, you can not move off the couch now because you can not control any of your motor functions in your concrete bones. Every one of your morals howl for you to get away from this man. To cuff him, send him down to the precinct and convict him for... something…

but that 'something' does not come quick enough, and he's leaning closer to you, with both arms still resting on the couch behind you. Before you can blow up your entire career, and close the distance, you wrangle some bit of sense to turn your head sideways, evading his half lidded eyes and slightly parted lips.

Your blatant rejection rouses him slightly, and he readjusts himself in his seat. Seonghwa brings his legs together to better manage the heat rushing to his cock in the wake of your rejection and apparent attraction (and immense frustration) as he shifts even closer beside you.

“You will find no disturbance here,” he says, “Only music.”

His words release the floodgates of your vexation, and your head snaps as you fire off. “Music that you weaponize to spew your delinquency.”

“Ah. Ah.” Seonghwa dips his head down to your ear as he whispers, “Delinquency, or rebellion?”

You're laughing humorlessly into the air, effectively causing Seonghwa’s smile to widen and his cock to stiffen completely in the confies of his pitch black dress pants. You are oblivious to his eyes, watching you as if you hung the very moon.

“You and your… freaks preach your vitriol and call it ‘rebellion’ when all you're actually doing is polluting our city with riots and crime.”

“You don't wish to be liberated from an oppressive world order?” He adjusts himself again, getting far too excited with the way this conversation is flowing. Your wide eyes and high vibrato do little to calm his restlessness.

“What oppression!?”

His voice is quick and monotonous, “Capitalism. Classism. Racism.” His fingers clench and unclench before swiping against the back of your neck, “Why do you willingly submit to a system that is simply un-winnable? We want you to free yourselves from the hierarchy. Fucking wreck the system-”

“You're fucking Pirates,” you spit the word out, unwokowungly snapping the very last of your reserve before Seonghwa is pulling you into a heady, heavy kiss by the nape of your neck.

"Fuck yes," He whispers before pulling you in as if you weighed absolutely nothing and you let him. You let his lips move languidly against yours as your hands fall against his chains and the white linen frills spilling from his collar. His hand is still positioned on the nape of your neck and he squeezes, forcing you to kiss him back. He groans into your mouth when you begin to work with him instead of against him. You mouth falling open as his tongue collides with yours.

Vaguely, in the background, outside these four walls, you can hear the crowd beginning to cheer once again as raucous music spills from unseen speakers. You can hear San beginning to sing into a mic, and your hand on Seonghwa's shirt curls imperceptibly.

“You're so beautiful…” You hate how easily his words affect you. You hate what a slave to desire you seem to be as he leans back to immediately push his hands in between your legs.

“Tell me to stop,” he challenges, keeping his feline eyes trained on you as he unclips the buttons of your jeans with one hand. “Tell me you don't want this disgusting delinquent to make you cum over and over again.”

Your lips are pursed painfully, and you throw your head back with your eyes clenched shut as you lift your hips. All the better for him to wriggle your jeans down to your ankles.

As he brings your legs up to his lap to pull off your jeans completely, Seonghwa's movements become all the more reckless and all the more urgent.

“All the same,” he murmurs before kneeling on the floor in front of you, “You conformists are all the fucking same.” Your eyes flutter open, along with your mouth, and the very moment your gaze locks onto the spray painted flag, hanging above you, Seongwha pushes aside your underwear, immediately spearing your dripping cunt with his long fingers. You release a broken moan into the air and his smile has blossomed into a full-on lopsided, evil grin as he brings your knees up to frame his face.

“2 seconds,” he taunts, in between your chorus of broken moans going head-to-head with the sound of San’s sensational belting, “it took me 2 seconds to have you humping my hand like a pretty fucking slut-”

Despite the pleasure coursing through your body, you still manage to keep your teeth clenched as you murmur, “You're the one… fuck… you're the one kneeling in front of me like my personal whore-”

Seonghwa's eyebrows raise, and his eyes glint in excitement at your taunting. He prided himself on being someone who could take as much as he gave out, and you're doing a terrific job at holding his attention when so many other people fell short.

You were interesting, of that, Seonghwa was sure.

“You make me want you so bad, Dove,” he admits before swiping his other hand over his stiffening bulge to the rhythm of his hand pushing in and out of your cunt.

“You drive me fucking crazy-”

“You're already crazy- fuck, just like that! Please don't stop-” your clenching around his fingers, eyes locked on his wide, excited eyes and his close lipped smile as brings his other hand to swipe over your clit.

The very second his calluses make contact with your swollen, puffy clit, you're cumming around his fingers. San’s vocal rages and your screams pour out as you fight to keep your eyes open. Seonghwa's fingers are still pushing into you relentlessly, and your heart sinks when you realise the seat underneath you is drenched with your arousal.

Seonghwa's mind is flooded with the image of you squirting so shamelessly around his fingers. Seeing you give yourself over to him so seamlessly made him feel absolutely restless with arousal, and he's pushing you down onto the couch before you're able to fill the air with idle protests.

His clothes suddenly feel too constricting and he curses the black corset as he wrestles with the buttons of his collar. He does not care that the buttons are flying onto the floor because he is clambouring onto the couch and hovering over you as he slots his hips in between your open legs.

“I need you to make a mess for me,” he whispers, before pulling his collar open, showcasing a patch of his tanned chest to your wide eyes. You unbuttoned your own shirt at the very same time that Seonghwa pulls down the zip of his pants, and he nearly whines at the sight of your breasts spilling out of your top. You are using him just as much as he is using you.

“Just like that, baby,” He nods, forcing his cock deep inside you as you begin to tweak your own nipples to stave off the discomfort of being stretched open so completely.

“F-Fuck- Seonghwa…” He is still nodding as he bends down towards you. Strands of his black hair tickle your face as he positions his hands on the side of your head and ruts into you with urgency. “I don't think I can take it-”

“You're already taking it so well, Baby.” He coos, as he forces his cock deeper and deeper into your clenching walls.

“You're taking everything I have to give and you're doing it flawlessly,” his praises are like that fashioned from a poet and the sheer artistry behind mere words have your head flying backwards as you release a torrid moan into the air.

“Where are you going?” He asks with a breathless laugh as he brings your head back by the grip of your throat. He is driving his cock inside you, his own frills spilling over your skin as he chokes you relentlessly.

Seonghwa is the very sight of violent beauty: hair mussed with his collar completely undone. His corset is still fashioned around his waist but it succeeds in tightening his abdomen, bringing him closer to the edge as the torrid sounds of your fucking fills the air.

"Fuck I'm close,” He grunts with his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his skull. "Tell me you hate me-" he whispers.

"I hate you," you moan out. "I hate you so fucking much-" It fell from your lips so easily because it is the God honest truth. Despite the spell he currently has you under, in the eyes of your aspirations, and everything you've ever worked hard for, you hated him and people like him. People who threatened to dismantle the progress lawmakers have strived to protect. And so, with your orgasm crwsting and your toes clenching, you whisper those words over and over to him. And every time to tell him you hate him, he chokes you harder and fucks you deeper.

"F-Fuck- 'Hwa I'm-" he nods, eyes now incredibly pained as he drives his cock into you with no chance of stopping.

"Cum for me," His whisper has you reading a broken moan into the air and Seonghwa watches as you descend into the depths of your euphoria.

"Gorgeous-" He exclaims through clenched teeth as his own hips begin to stutter, "You're so fucking gorgeous-" He whimpers before spilling inside you.

You're both moaning into the air, at the very same time that Choi San appears at the threshold.

"You work fast," San says languidly. He shifts his gaze from your horror-stricken gaze to Seonghwa who stares at his accomplice with a smirk on his face.

"I work smarter," Seonghwa says, "not harder." You're very much aware that he is still very much inside of you in front of a complete stranger but that panic dissipates when you realize Seonghwa, himself, is nothing but a stranger...

"The police is not gonna be a problem for us anymore, right?" He asks sweetly before dipping his head down in between the crook of your neck. You are starkly aware that your silence is answer enough...

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez smut #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fanfic #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x you #ateez fanfic #park seonghwa smut

1K notes · View notes

lilacargent · 1 year ago

Text

As im currently dealing with the loss of a loved one, this is my way of coping.

Grief

Grief is an interstellar concept. Almost every species in the galaxy has its own traditions and practices. Humans are no exception, like with most of their emotions their grief is all encompassing. Traditions vary from one culture to another, even people deal with it in different ways.

Kilare as part of a flocking species wonders about the human crewmates when one is lost in a battle. She knew the passed human Ellie very well. Turns out they grieve like a flock, huddled together weeping, almost giving into the urge to join she turns away, expecting this to last for a long time she leaves them be. When she checks next the little unit is drinking and laughing, she can hardly believe it, carefully stepping into the room “i am sorry, may i ask something?” The humans look up some still blotchy from crying, the human she knows as liz nods “you were all weeping just now, but you seem happy? Im confused…” fluffing her feathers Kilare backpedals “not to be insensitive, im just trying to understand your process.” Evan gets up and walks to her “that is okay, you knew Ellie well right? We are talking about her and how we miss her, laughing comes with the tears.” Motioning for the taller feathered woman to join the little group Moira makes eye contact and starts explaining “i know you are from a species that grieves as a group, if i remember correctly mostly weeping and spread ashes on the wind to join in every flight” impressed by the womans knowledge she nods Moira goes on “humans have many different traditions, but every one grieves their own way and time. Mostly in five stages, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. No two people go through it the same or even through all of them. There is times we grieve as a collective, sometimes you need time and process as an individual. We are now reminiscing Ellie, but i already know im gonna have a cry later and ill never forget her.” Kamare could understand and respect that so she joined in. It soothed her soul.

It was years before she saw human grief again so up close.

When the Ri’ktil attacked they committed what humans called warcrimes without batting any of their eighteen eyes. The horror of the people quickly turned to fear. It was when they blew up a human colony Kimare saw the unified grief. Human governments trying to bargain with the Ri’ktil, families travelling to the floating remnants of the colony trying to find survivors, denying that what had happened killed everyone man, woman and child. A month passed and humanity had grown silent and passive, the Ri’ktal took this as victory and broad cast it to the rest of the species in the galactic counsel. A warning that they would stop at nothing and break them like they broke the humans. Kimare remembered her conversation all those years ago and realised that anger was still coming, she could almost seeing it brewing under the surface.

A month was what it took. A month for humans to start walking upright again. Not only humans on their planets but everyone, on every world and every ship seemed to have shared in the depression. So when the fog cleared the whispering began, then came the talking, when it turned to yelling the Ri’ktil took notice. It was too late for them though. Because humanity started screaming, unified rage became a spearhead of humans all over the galaxy, noone even considered not helping. The tsunami of humans that could not wait to tear their enemy apart surprised them, no matter their way too many eyes, this they did not see coming.

The counsel joined the humans in their fight, and quick as the Ri’ktil had invaded were they beat back aswell. The defeat of their enemies did not dismiss their grief. But instead of on a specie scale individuals began their own process. Four years later Kimare noticed a change, they had made a monument out of the destroyed colony, it seemed to signify an end point. Humans went there to process and make peace, they had accepted what had happened moved past it. But never forgotten.

Humans didn’t forget when they grieved, they remember and accept.

~~~~~~

Tadah

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans in space #humans are deathworlders #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #humans are insane

470 notes · View notes

valleyofthedolls777 · 3 months ago

Text

･ﾟﾟ･｡Dolly's sleep paralysis method for shifting

🌟 You heard that right. This is a method I'm sure someone else has thought of already, but I'm putting it into words for you guys.

Now, this method is weird and can even be scary to some. I recommend it to those who have gotten SP before or just aren't afraid of anything. But anyone can do it, really!

This is my favorite method, I've been able to shift multiple times with it. My little brother also uses it to lucid dream :)

1. How does it work?

It's very simple. Have you ever tried shifting through a lucid dream, only to end up waking up in your cr bed, not being able to move? You might even see or hear things, what some people call "Sleep paralysis demon"

Now, here's the thing: sp demons don't exist.

🗣️-"But Dolly, why do I see, feel and hear things when I'm in sleep paralysis? It freaks me out!"

🐇- Sleep paralysis is a state, during waking up or falling asleep, in which a person is conscious but in a complete state of full-body paralysis. During an episode, the person may hallucinate, which often results in fear.

It happens when you pass between stages of wakefulness and sleep.

(If you're interested in the science behind it)

During REM sleep the body enters a state of temporary paralysis called muscle atonia. This state is likely a mechanism to prevent sleepers from injuring themselves by acting out their dreams. That's why you can't move!

Many experts believe that hallucinations during sleep paralysis occur when people experience the vivid dreams of REM sleep while they are awake.

So, don't worry about this so-called demon. It can't hurt you. Its just your half-asleep brain!

PRO TIP: When you find yourself in SP, don't open your eyes. Just relax, and remind yourself it's just your body being half asleep. If you have scary thoughts, shake them off. Sleep paralysis can even be fun if you learn how harmless it is.

2. And how can you shift with it?

Because SP is a state of half-sleepiness, it's the perfect time to manipulate your consciousness into being somewhere else.

I'll separate this method in two parts:

1.How to get sleep paralysis?

I've always gotten SP when my sleep is disrupted. That is, if I go to sleep at my usual time, like 10pm, and put an alarm to wake up at 2am (3-4 hours after falling asleep is perfect), and stay awake for a few hours, then fall back asleep, my brain will be all like: whaaaat?

My little brother also uses this method to lucid dream, and it always works for him. So, in steps:

Go to sleep when you're comfortable. Put an alarm to wake up 3-4 hours after falling asleep.

Wake up with that alarm, and now chill! Go to the bathroom, watch some youtube videos, read a book, wake yourself up, and wait until you're sleepy again. This usually takes me 2-4 hours awake. It's best to do it in weekends, please don't do this on school nights 😭

Fall back asleep. This might be hard, but just spend some time in the darkness, daydream about your dr, just relax and let your body slowly fall asleep.

You might wake up paralysed. That means it worked! (Scroll down a bit to see what you do at this point)

There are other methods to get sleep paralysis. This is just my personal favourite, but everybody is different!

2. I'm in sleep paralysis! Now what?

Now, just relax. Calm your mind, remind yourself: this is just my brain half-asleep.

Keep your eyes closed. Take your time to affirmate. My personal favourite is "I am shifting" because it's easy to remember.

Try to visualise your desired reality. Imagine you're already there. Because you are.

You might feel really strong symptoms, but I personally find them fun.

If you're very scared, don't worry. You can always wake up from SP. Just try moving a bit, and after a few seconds, you should be back to normal.

🐇

Anyways, tell me if you have any questions. I'm super bad at explaining so I'm sorry if something doesn't make a lot of sense! This is just a method, and everybody is different so what works for me might not work for you! Happy shifting 💗

- Doll

#anti shifters dni #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifters #shifting blog #shifting community #shifting consciousness #shifting #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifting reality #shifting diary #shifting script #shifting antis dni #shifting method #shifting methods #anti shiftersdni #desired reality

108 notes · View notes

janearts · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, so you got to act 3 in the Astarion romance, right? How did Roisa feel about the romance scene in the graveyard?

I did! I finished the game back in September and played out the epilogue patch more recently. Roisia was happy to bear witness to Astarion mourning his past and celebrating a future of his choosing. However, she did take umbrage at Astarion's phrasing that he would be open to having sex that evening. Knowing his history and his relationship with sex, Roisia was really looking for more clear intent, more barefaced desire. I think his wording, "I could be persuaded", would've really bothered her even though she knew he meant it cheekily (e.g., a stupid easy persuasion check, if you will).

I've included a more thorough analysis of her feelings under the cut.

Ultimately, that night poked and prodded at deeper fears and insecurities. Roisia has been left before at the end of a grand adventure wondering how she could have missed the signs that the person she adored did not quite adore her back with the same ardour. Now, older and believing herself to be wiser, she is wary and this time, she tells herself, she will keep herself in check. She will be rational, level-headed, and even-keeled. She will not let herself get swept away by irrational desire, and her love of Astarion is a very irrational, incompatible, unwise desire.

When Astarion said that he wanted her, that she stood by him through bloodlust and pain and misery, that she had been patient, caring, and trusting, that he felt safe and seen with her, and that he didn't want to lose all of that, Roisia felt a sinking unease. A queasy sort of disquiet in her gut. Because she realised that everything he described, everything about her that he praised or acknowledged or thanked, was nothing particularly special in her eyes. As a [former] Cleric of Kelemvor, as an undertaker, as a professional mourner, she has done all of the above and more with the loved ones of decedents as part of her job. It's her sacred duty to stand by people at a low and loathsome point in their lives, through their pain and misery, with patience, compassion, and an extended hand. Hell, that's just another Tuesday!

Roisia couldn't help but feel that Astarion really only loved the things that she could do for him rather than her as a person outside of those acts of service. And those things he described could have easily been done by any Mortarch worth their salt in her place. So does he truly care for her? Or is he really just thankful for the things she's done for him? Those things that really anyone could do? It does not plant a seed, exactly, but it germinates a seed that was already present in her mind, a nasty little thought that she is not special and, therefore, not truly loved in the way that she so very much wants to be loved. That, sure, Astarion cares about her, but only because she just happened to be there and has assisted people in different stages of grief since she was a child. She is fundamentally, inescapably replaceable and it's only a matter of time until Astarion realises that and does what Eustace did: clap her on the back, thank her for her time, and move on to greener pastures whatever or wherever they may be.

It was hard for Roisia to hear Astarion say things like "I want you" and "I love you" when there is a part of herself that deeply, deeply doubts that. That thinks he is wrong even if he is not yet aware that he is wrong. She is torn between taking his words at face value, the words that her heart wants to hear, or reading between the lines, which is what the parts of herself that she calls Logic and Reason call out for her to do. I think in the moment she yields to the former, but after that night, leans towards the latter.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #BG3 Roisia #Astarion #Astarion Ancunin #BG3 Spoilers #Act III Spoilers #rosecanons #roisiacanons #tagging for the meta for myself for later asdfkjalkfd

961 notes · View notes

anim-ttrpgs · 7 months ago

Text

Vampire Player Character Rules in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

Eureka has six playable "monster" types, and about ten total supernatural character options all together. Each supernatural trait is taken basically as if it is a normal trait like the ones you have been seeing us post. You cannot give a character more than one supernatural trait--and from what you are about to read, you probably wouldn't want to. Playing monsters is recommended for "advanced" players only, people who like a lot of "crunch" in their games, as require you to keep track of a lot more mechanics than playing a normal human.

Here is the Vampire Trait as it appears in its overhauled state in the patreon release. The August itchio beta does not currently have these overhauled monster traits(though, you could just use this post as reference if you wanted to play with the overhauled vampire rules, we don't mind! They're much better rules and we want people to have the most fun possible!)

If you are reading this past about October 24th, then there is a good chance that the itchio beta actually has been updated to include these improved rules, fingers crossed!

Anyway here we go. This is going under a Read More because it's long as hell but we really hope that you will check it out and comment. This is, like, the whole entire ruleset for playing a vampire in Eureka.

Vampire (Monster Trait)

Vampires have quite a lot of powers, more than twice as many as any other monster, all informed by pre-1900 vampire legends. As a Narrator or a player portraying a vampire, don't fret about remembering all the vampire's powers at all times - they certainly don't. Some effects of these powers and weaknesses are left intentionally somewhat vague so as to leave them partially up to Narrator/player discretion. This is intentional, and is meant to reflect that no two vampires work exactly the same.

Eureka presents a particular perspective on the legend of the vampire, while still adhering very strictly to real historical vampire folklore. It is a specific interpretation, which sets the stage for specific themes in the lives of vampiric investigators.

Vampires, and the legends surrounding them, perhaps more so than any other monster present as a playable monster in the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook, are inextricably linked to continental Europe and therefore Abrahamic[1] faiths.[2] Some may argue that vampire legends exist all around the world in every time and place, and that may be true, if you think that the only defining feature of a vampire is that they drink blood. What you are calling “vampires” from other cultures are each actually their own concept, with their own rich folkloric history, only overlapping with the European vampire on the Venn diagram in the fact that they drink blood and perhaps are undead. Loss and fear are universal, but the way different historical cultures interpret and portray these things in their stories are not. If you would like to play one of the many creatures that often gets attributed as “[other culture]’s vampire,” we encourage this and invite you to do some research into them, to see how unique and interesting each of these spirits from around the world really are.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] Predominantly Catholic and Orthodox, but enough of it also applies to other Abrahamic faiths.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires are of course not entirely unique in coming from a very specific cultural context, but the authors of this book are writing what they know. If there’s two things that the American South has, it’s vampires and Christianity. The American South is a deeply Christian environment, and we know what that can do to a person (for better or for worse), whereas we have less of a personal connection - and more importantly, less intimate knowledge and access to firsthand accounts - of the cultural heritage of some of the other monsters, so even where a specific cultural background may be additive to the rules thematically, such as the conception of women in historical and modern Greek culture for gorgons, we have chosen not to elaborate.

Vampiric investigators in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy are all considered to have been raised in cultures of Abrahamic faith. They may have remained unchanged in their faith or lack thereof, found faith, or lost faith[1] in their transition from life to undeath, but no matter what, Abrahamic faith has strongly influenced their life in some way.[2] This is a prerequisite for an investigator being a vampire.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] A vampire who never had any faith to begin with would have to be a very, very young vampire.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting.] If creating a vampiric investigator with a religious upbringing more than a couple centuries ago, bear in mind that the way historical people related to and conceptualized their faith is often very different than the way modern people do. Try to look into what those historical peoples actually believed; pop-history will tell you that medieval Roman Catholicism and modern American Protestantism are the same. They aren’t. The middle ages were the middle ages, not the 1950s.

[2.1. off to the side in the final formatting] Depending on their place of origin, some “vampires” older than a few centuries may prefer to identify themselves as “revenants” or “draugr.” It would be quite rude to try and correct them.

[Snoop: The tall thin vampire snoopette with hat standing on the ceiling right behind a frightened snoop in a dark room, who does not know she is there. Maybe make the background black and the snoops white to show that it is dark? Give the frightened snoop a flashlight with a white beam?]

Superhuman Strength

When not debilitated by a weakness, vampires are considered to have Superhuman Strength, and a +10 Base bonus to Athletics[4] and +1 Base bonus to Close Combat.[1][2][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires do not have stamina in the same sense as living beings do, and may appear to have unlimited energy as far as conventional physical exertion goes. Their extreme and unnatural strength does not actually come from their muscles.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Despite what the movies say, vampires do not have superhuman speed. Though superhuman strength and seemingly unlimited stamina means they can still move frighteningly fast.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] 1 Samuel 16:14.

[4 off to the side in the final formatting] This means that their Athletics bonus will almost always be equal to their current Composure level.

In Lizard Fashion

When not debilitated by a Weakness, vampires have the ability to walk or climb on any solid surface as if it were a floor.[1][2] Re-orienting to a surface that would be impossible to stand on normally counts as use of a supernatural ability. Additionally, so long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, if they do choose, vampires are immovable. They will never lose their balance or be able to be knocked off their feet.[3] Their bones will break before they budge. Making use of this power is only possible when they are standing still, and counts as use of a supernatural ability. This cannot be used in response to a Stealth Attack, and if the vampire is otherwise not expecting to need it, they must make a Full Success on a Reflexes roll to be able to do so.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] A vampire’s hair and clothes will hang towards whatever surface they are oriented to, rather than the actual ground.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Under most environmental conditions, there is no difference in effort between standing and sitting for a vampire.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Great for parties, and Michael Jackson moves.

Psycho-Social Phenomenon

When not debilitated by a weakness, vampires have a +3 Contextual bonus to Stealth. This bonus increases by +1 for each point of Composure the vampire is missing.[1][4][5] Additionally, vampires do not have saliva, skin oils, or anything else of the sort. If they lose hair, it will disintegrate like any other post body part, and soon reappear on the body.[3] Vampires will never leave fingerprints[2] or any other DNA evidence behind.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] At 0 Composure, this bonus would be +10.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] One exception may be if they have something else on their fingers besides skin oils.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] This can make shaving very tricky!

[4 off to the side in the final formatting] Even without meaning to, vampires tend to appear “right on top of” people without ever being noticed on the approach.

[5 off to the side in the final formatting] Sometimes vampires cannot even be seen at all until one looks directly at them.

The Cave Wall

Any character who makes a Full Success on a Senses roll directed towards a vampire will instantly lose 1 Composure or 1 Morale, with no explanation or description from the Narrator. This is 2 Composure and 2 Morale if the focus of the Senses roll is actually directed to the space behind the vampire, such as looking over their shoulder. Additionally, at times, the motions of the vampire may appear subtly “choppy,” almost as though animated, and at lower frame rate than their surroundings.

Wearing the Evening

So long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, vampires are capable of instantly relocating in total or near total darkness.[1] This instant relocation cannot pass through solid objects, and there must be an uninterrupted line of darkness between the start point and end point of this relocation. Additionally, a vampire’s vision is not significantly affected by absence of light until there is literally no light present at all.[2][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] This does not require a Composure roll for use of a supernatural ability. Vampires may not even be fully conscious of the fact that they are instantly relocating in total darkness.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Time to try out echolocation as a bat!

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] With miniscule sources of light, their vision may still feel somewhat impaired, but not enough to warrant a mechanical penalty modifier.

[3.1. off to the side in the final formatting] Bright light, however, can cause discomfort, even if it is not sunlight. Many vampires may opt to wear sunglasses even indoors or at night.

Hovering

Vampires are capable of hovering up to three feet off the ground when manifesting as a human,[1] though actually moving while doing this is no faster than walking. This ability must start from the ground, and cannot be done to save a vampire from a freefall.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Another great party trick.

Teeth and Claws

A vampire’s nails are hard and sharp like claws.[1] This allows them to deal Penetrative Damage instead of Superficial Damage with any unarmed melee attack. When they are not debilitated by a weakness, this damage can be doubled due to Superhuman Strength.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] A steel file is required for filing these nails down, they tear up lesser files.

Vampires also have fangs.

Hibernation

Vampires do not need to sleep, ever.[1] Their closest equivalent is entering a state of suspended animation for months, years, or even decades at a time. No coffin or grave dirt is required. This is useful for laying low while heat dies down, recovering from destruction of the “physical” body, or simply resetting the vampires ever quickening perception of the passage of time.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] Most vampires will remain awake for decades at a time.

Breathing, or Lack Thereof

Vampires have no need to breathe, except to talk or sniff the air.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] It is easy for vampires to forget to breathe.

Remanifestation

So long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, a vampire may manifest in any of the following five ways.[1] Remanifesting as a different manifestation counts as use of a Supernatural Ability, and counts as taking 1 action if done in combat. A vampire cannot manifest as any manifestation that there is not enough empty space available to contain, even if the solid object taking up that space is paper thin.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Nothing is really changing, just another aspect rising to the surface.

Human Manifestation

This is the default manifestation. All aspects of the Vampire Trait apply. [maybe add the human-only things like claws here]

Bat Manifestation

As this manifestation, the vampire appears as a small bat with a maximum Superficial and Penetrative HP of 3 and Acceleration of +3. They do *not* have superhuman strength, and are limited to only feats of strength and other actions that a small mammal without opposable thumbs could accomplish. Any attack by this manifestation can deal at most 1 Superficial Damage. Any attack against this manifestation suffers a -2 penalty.[1][2]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] This manifestation may be considered adorable.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Trying to do a whole swarm of bats at once is a great way to give yourself one-hundred concurrent head injuries.

As this manifestation, the vampire may use echolocation to find their way even in total darkness, and have a +5 Contextual bonus to any Senses roll involving sound.

As this manifestation, the vampire has a +4 Contextual bonus to Stealth.

All other aspects of vampirism apply.

Wolf Manifestation

As this manifestation, the vampire appears as a wolf with a +2 Contextual bonus to Close Combat, a +4 Contextual bonus to Senses rolls involving sound and smell, and +4 Acceleration. They maintain superhuman strength, but are limited to actions which a canine without opposable thumbs could accomplish.

As this manifestation, the vampire’s only means of attack is with their jaws. This is a Grab attack. So long as the target is Grabbed, all other aspects of Grabbing apply, but the target also takes 2 Penetrative Damage on each of the vampire’s turn’s with no roll needed.

As this manifestation, the vampire has a +4 Base bonus to Stealth.

All other aspects of vampirism still apply.

Mist/Smoke Manifestation

As this manifestation, the vampire appears as a cloud of autonomously mobile smoke or mist with a volume of at most 4,000 cubic feet,[2] capable of squeezing through any gap that is not perfectly air-tight.[1] This manifestation has very limited ability to interact with or even perceive the physical world. They can only feel their surroundings, meaning their “vision” is limited to only the vague outlines of what the cloud is touching.[3]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Black, grey, or red are common colorations.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting.] This is a lot smaller than it sounds, a little bigger than a bedroom.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Skin and assimilated clothing evaporates, then muscle, then bone. When the vampire takes on a solid manifestation, the sequence will be reversed.

As this manifestation, though the vampire does maintain their Superhuman Strength bonuses, they cannot pick up, assimilate, or otherwise exert their will on physical objects. They cannot be attacked in any way, though they will need to make a Full Success on an Athletics roll to resist powerful suction or other strong air currents.[1]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] Though remanifesting as smoke properly requires an action, any missed attack against a vampire or other sort of dodge may be described as the vampire spontaneously evaporating for a split second before resolidifying.

This manifestation is not ordinarily heavy enough to suffocate a human being or cause any damage at all, but can be made vicious by spending of Eureka! Points. The cloud becomes oppressive, choking, and even capable of causing very small lacerations on the body, inside and out. The effect is somewhat like being in a sandstorm made of broken glass. Up to the vampire, any number of characters within the cloud may be targeted.[1] For the duration the manifestation is maintained, targets will take 2 Superficial Damage per turn per Eureka! Point spent. Targets forced to take Injury rolls or killed[2] as a result of this damage will be considered to be partially drained of blood by the vampire and restore the vampire’s Composure appropriately.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] It may be difficult for a vampire to tell friend from foe by their fuzzy, colorless outlines alone.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Hardly anything may remain of targets killed in this way.

All other aspects of vampirism apply.

Monstrous Beast Manifestation

As this manifestation, a vampire appears as a monstrously massive bat-like[2] beast larger than most cars, but maintaining this manifestation in the world requires a near constant intake of fresh human blood. This manifestation has 17 of both types of HP, a +2 Contextual bonus to Close Combat, a +4 Contextual bonus to Senses involving hearing and smell, a +4 Acceleration bonus, and a -10 penalty to Stealth.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Seven is the Biblical number of perfection.

[1.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Now you are thinking like a vampire.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] It is most common for it to resemble a bat, but the exact shape and size of the monstrous beast varies from vampire to vampire.

This manifestation is considered to have Superhuman Strength, and the Base bonuses from Superhuman Strength become *Contextual*.

As this manifestation, the vampire loses 6 Composure per round.

This manifestation has two effective means of attack, a Vehicle Attack using their Athletics divided by 2 (rounded up) instead of Driving, and their enormous jaws. The vampire can use their jaw to make Grab attacks. So long as the target is grabbed by the vampire’s jaw, they automatically take 4 Penetrative Damage each time it is the vampire’s turn with no roll needed. The vampire can continue to perform other actions while Grabbing a target with their jaws and movement is unimpeded. Rather than deal the 4 Penetrative Damage, if the vampire is Grabbing a target of human or smaller size with their jaws, they may make a Hold attack using either Athletics or Close Combat to simply swallow them whole.[1] This manifestation can stomach at most two humans at a time.[2] For a target swallowed alive, depending on the context and circumstances, the Narrator may simply declare them as good as dead and not make any rolls, or apply the Drowning/Suffocation rules. The only chance this target would have of damaging the vampire from the inside would be with a small piercing weapon. They may also make an Escape attempt, but attacking or attempting to escape would be considered exertion for the purposes of the Drowning/Suffocation rules. However, the first successful Escape attempt will put them in the beast’s jaws, not totally free. They must also Escape from the beast’s jaws to be totally free.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Flesh is blood.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] It is not known what will happen to a person in the beast’s stomach if the vampire remanifests as something much smaller.

Remanifestation and Items

Small and/or low-density items that have been in contact with a particular manifestation for a long period of time will be “assimilated” by this manifestation. Assimilation by a manifestation means that when a vampire remanifests to a different manifestation, those items will vanish along with the previous manifestation, and reappear along with it.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Maybe someday vampires could be explained by a physicist, but not by a biologist, like the shadows on the cave wall.

For gameplay purposes, this concept is simplified to where certain items will always count as assimilated and others items will never count. Unassimilated items will fall to the ground when the vampire shifts manifestations.[1][3]

Always Counts as Assimilated:

Basic clothing and accessories the vampire is wearing, including hats, cloaks, and shoes.

Wallets and their contents.

Small electronics such as cellphones.

Never Counts as Assimilated:

Any clothing which provides Armor.

Any weaponry.

Larger electronics such as laptops.

Anything made of silver.

Larger accessories such as purses or backpacks.

People and other living things.

Anything that is both recently obtained and narratively important.[2]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Before remanifesting, a vampire should ask a friend to hold her purse, leather jacket, gun, but not worry about her cellphone or the rest of her outfit.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting.] A vampire may be able to sneak into room as a cloud of smoke, but once they have the documents or other item they’re trying to steal, they will have to find their way out as a manifestation that can actually carry it.

[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Assimilated objects will lose their vampiric properties if separated from the vampire for long enough.

An Object at Rest Cannot be Stopped

Vampires take half-damage from all damage sources, the only exception being HP that results from loss of Composure. If a vampire wears armor that protects against whatever is dealing the damage, this damage is halved again, for one quarter damage, rounding up. Apply a -2 modifier to attacks against the vampire from 1-damage weapons.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires take half-damage not because their flesh is extraordinarily durable, but because they just don’t need it to ‘live.’ Wolfmen, however, take half-damage because they are extraordinarily dense and durable.

Decentralized Animation

One round after a body part is severed, a vampire will be able to reassert control over it, even in the event of decapitation. Any Skill check taken by a detached body part will have a -3 penalty applied, unless the vampire can see the body part, in which case it is -2.[1] [Maybe call this or something else “extrinsic animation.”]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] After death, every motion of the body is something which must be entirely relearned, even the act of standing and walking is an entirely different experience. Doing so under the sun’s rays, and around fast-moving water, are similarly distinct forms of animation.

[1.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Many say the hardest thing is relearning how to dance.

Healing

Regular first-aide will work on vampires in most cases within reason, but, so long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, their “physical” bodies return to their basic state over time. Vampires automatically recover 1 point of Superficial and Penetrative HP at the beginning of every game session, and 1 point of Superficial HP at the end of each day, so long as they are not debilitated by a weakness.

Additionally, so long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, if they took damage to either HP type during an instance of combat, they restore 1 HP of the same type as soon as the combat is resolved.

So long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, a vampire may take 1 action to reattach a severed body part at the stump and have it work again good as new after 1 turn.

So long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, if a vampire’s Penetrative HP is full, instead of recovering Penetrative HP from any of the above rules, they recover from one Grievous Wound, permanent or not.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] If this is a missing body part, the severed body part will disintegrate and reintegrate back where it’s supposed to be.

So long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, a vampire may spend 1 Eureka! Point to instantly recover all Superficial and Penetrative HP, and from all Grievous Wounds. This takes 1 action.

Unkillable

If a vampire is reduced to 0 Penetrative HP, they do “die” instantly, but they will not stay “dead” permanently, barring specific circumstances. (See: How to “Kill” a Vampire p.Xx) It may take weeks, months, or years, but the vampire will eventually return, even if their “physical” body is absolutely obliterated. A “dead” vampire investigator is removed from the current adventure same as a regular dead investigator, but may return and be played in any subsequent adventure.[1][2]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Can the fact that it appears that someone is continuing to live when they should not be considered anything short of a miracle?

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] The Not Finished Yet Trait increases an investigator’s Penetrative HP dramatically, with the caveat that they will die at the end of the adventure if they take too much damage. Well, unless they’re killed in a very specific way, vampires revive in between adventures, so that kind of negates the entire downside of the Trait, doesn’t it? Well, not exactly. There’s two ways we suggest handling this. The first way is to have it represent a vampire who is on the verge of passing on, whether they know it or not, by reaching certain personal revelations, accomplishing their unfinished business, and that this time it will be permanent - peaceful, even. Alternatively, it could represent that, not unlike a mortal with the same Trait, this vampire is pushing themselves past any remotely sustainable level of bodily damage, and if it goes too far this *will* catch up to them at the end of the adventure. Should they drop below the threshold for Penetrative HP, regardless of Eureka! Points spent to restore their HP or revive them, they will fall into hibernation or fade away and remain “dead” for *decades* or more. Yes, they will eventually return, but it won’t be any time soon. This happened to Yvette Preux in the 1890s and that’s why she slept through most of the 20th century.

A vampire whom has been reduced to 0 Penetrative HP does not heal from first-aide or any of the other rules mentioned under “Healing.”

Revival

So long as they are not debilitated by a weakness, a vampire that has been reduced to 0 Penetrative HP and “killed” for the adventure may spend 2 Eureka! Points to revive with 1 of both types of HP, but only once a minimum of 5 Scenes have passed. A vampire may instead spend 3 Eureka! Points to revive instantly, so long as they have been “dead” for at least 1 round.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] John 11:1-44.

Threatening Presence

It’s subtle, but something about vampires will always make the hair on the back of people’s necks stand up, or send a chill down their spine, like their body is trying to warn them of what they’re really talking to. Vampires have a +1 Contextual bonus to Threaten rolls and a -1 to Comfort rolls. Any other mortal human investigators, including monsters, take a -1 penalty to all Composure rolls so long as they are sharing a Scene with the vampire.[1][2]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] It should not be explained how or why this -1 applies. Even veteran Eureka players will not be able to know for sure whether this -1 is from vampirism or from the Wicked Trait.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Even if you don’t know why, being in a room with a vampire can be like being in a room with a bug that might start flying at any moment, especially when the vampire starts moving suddenly again after standing still.

[2.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] When a vampire stands still, they stand perfectly still. More motions are a conscious decision than not.

The Creeps

If playing with “The Creeps” optional rule, the vampire’s player rolls a hidden D6 at the start of every Scene. On a 6, they will privately message or signal the Narrator, and the Narrator will call for “The Creeps” at the next available opportunity, without revealing that it is the result of having a vampire present. Players and investigators alike will wonder what is so anxiety-inducing about this clean office building or peaceful elevator ride. Add +1 to any The Creeps Composure roll by investigators who are friends with the vampire and are aware of the vampirism.

Bloodthirsty (Vampire True Nature)

[Snoop: That tall skinny lady vampire snoop with the big hat biting into another snoop’s neck. Use a pose where she is holding the other snoop in front of herself. I’ll find or make a reference I don’t know what the pose is called.]

Vampires do not need to eat regular meals,[1][2] nor do they need to sleep, so they suffer no Flat Composure Damage from skipping meals nor from staying up all night. However, they also do not gain any Composure Points from eating normal food or getting sleep.

Flat Composure Damage from Skipping Meals = No

Composure restoration from Three Meals a Day = No

Flat Composure Damage from Skipping Sleep = No

Composure restoration from Full Night’s Sleep = No

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Though their sensitivity to spices and their lack of saliva can sometimes prove an obstacle, vampires actually can eat and even enjoy ‘normal food,’ though it provides no nutritional benefit. It is not actually known what happens to ‘normal food’ consumed by vampires, except that it doesn’t seem to come out.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires do not have to drink blood with any sort of regularity, only when they need it, which is something that may vary from vampire to vampire, and in the case of vampire investigators, depend on how much Composure they are losing.

Vampires need to drink fresh, living human blood, and a lot of it, in order to exist in any degree of comfort. Animal blood does nothing for them.[1][2][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] If this really needs to be stated, no, menstrual blood isn’t really blood and does not work.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Though they are unlikely to ever “lose control,” at least not more so than a famished mortal, a vampire will almost never feel completely satiated.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] 2:173.

Making a Wound

A vampire does not have to use their fangs to make a wound and drink blood, they may use their claws, a knife, or even a phlebotomy needle if the other person would just hold still.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] A vampire is a gaping wound left where a life used to be, and now the world is bleeding out.

When Grabbing or Holding a target, the vampire can use their fangs, claws, a knife, or whatever else they prefer to open a large blood vessel and press their lips to it to drink blood. These wounds are not magical and will heal like any other wound if allowed to, and do not transform the victim into a vampire or anything else of the sort.

This attack uses Athletics or Close Combat and, regardless of superhuman strength, does 4 damage on a Full Success, 2 damage on a Partial Success, and no damage on a Failure. The type of damage is up to the vampire.

They may choose to do 4 Superficial Damage by making a smaller wound and/or targeting a less critical blood vessel, such as the radial or elbow brachial;[1] or they may choose to do 4 Penetrative Damage by creating a larger wound and/or targeting a more critical vessel, such as the carotid, jugular, shoulder brachial, or femoral.[2]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] All of these blood vessels are critical to the human body. 4 Superficial Damage from attacking a “less critical” vessel can still result in loss of consciousness or even death.

[2 Off to the side in the final formatting] Arterial blood is oxygenated and relatively free of debris compared to venous blood, and as such it is preferred by most vampires.

In order for the vampire to be considered to have consumed a sufficient amount of blood, the victim must be forced to make an Injury roll as a direct result of the damage from this attack. The success or failure of the victim’s Injury roll is irrelevant.

Drinking copious amounts of blood is not something that can be done as speedily as any regular combat action. It is simply not viable to measure this in Rounds. Once the vampire starts drinking, they will be drinking for the remainder of the combat. The victim gets to make only one Escape attempt for the duration of the blood draining.[1]

Superficial Damage

Time to Injury Roll: 10 minutes

Time to Death: 30 minutes.

Penetrative Damage

Time to Injury Roll: 1 minute.

Time to Death: 2 minutes.

Once the victim expires, their blood is no-longer nutritious.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires are not people who are cursed with vampirism, they are the curse–everyone else who has to deal with them are who’s cursed. The suffering of their prey is part of the feeding process. They are ghosts, dead, the blood they drink is life. The vampire legend largely arises from the grief of losing family members by watching them suffer slow, very painful deaths from illnesses, the vampire is representative of the pain of having to watch a loved one waste away. The blood has to be preferably taken by force and it has to hurt, because what they’re really consuming is the slow and agonizing extraction of life from the living. This is why there can be no substitute for human blood.

[1.1. off to the side in the final formatting] Why was this allowed to happen to them?

[1.2. off to the side in the final formatting] Why are they allowed to happen to other people?

[1.3. off to the side in the final formatting] Are they real?

During this process, if they are going for Penetrative damage, the vampire must also make a Reflexes roll to attempt to remain clean while drinking blood. If they just don’t care about manners, however, they can choose to simply Fail and skip the roll.[1]

Full Success: They do not spill a drop, leaving no evidence on their person that they just drank blood.

Partial Success: They are not fast enough to drink from the wound, and blood spirts onto their face and mouth.

Failure: They are not fast enough to drink from the wound, and blood gets everywhere. On the ground, on their face, on their clothes. This will be very hard to explain.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Most vampires’ fangs will take on a slight curve when they are allowed to grow out long enough, perfect for sinking in behind large arteries and pulling them out, where they can then be used like a straw. This is, of course, very efficient, but always fatal. More conscientious vampires may create smaller cuts or puncture marks in major blood vessels from which to drink.

Willing Donors

If the other person is cooperative, there is no need to roll the Grabs, Holds, bites, etc. The vampire can just deal the damage using their teeth, claws, knife, or even a phlebotomy needle, if they’d just hold still. Choosing to deal Superficial Damage consumes 2 Ticks. Penetrative Damage consumes 1 Tick, and still requires a Reflexes (or Medicine in this case) roll to avoid a mess.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The vampire is nourished by the suffering of those who care about them the most.

Blood Banks

There are of course establishments which keep large quantities of human blood in stock. However, this doesn’t provide an easy solution to a vampire’s problem. They are always at least somewhat secure, and their stock is carefully tracked. What’s more, for blood to be any good to a vampire, it has to be fresh, nothing that’s been separated from the body for too long. If it’s near expiry, it’s worthless. A haul of fresh blood bags will restore at most 1 point of Composure.[1]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Someone will be liable for that missing inventory, and someone else will go without a vital transfusion. There is always a wound.

Composure Restoration

A vampire recovers 1 point of Composure when they cause a victim to make an Injury roll as a result of the damage dealt by having their blood drained. A vampire can gain at most 1 Composure from the same victim this way within a single Scene, no matter how many subsequent Injury rolls within the same Scene.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Does communion wine count for blood to a vampire? Do you believe in transubstantiation? Is a vampire not equally the person they once were, and something much greater and more terrible at the same time?

Continuing to drain blood until the victim expires will restore 1 additional point of Composure.[1]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] In the event that the victim dies before they are caused to make an Injury roll, the vampire will still regain 2 Composure.

When a vampire drinks blood, they will also regain 1 additional point of Composure if they do at least 5 Morale damage,[1] or 3 points of Composure damage, to the victim within the same Scene before or during the blood draining.[2][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] This is possible even if the victim does not have 5 total Morale to loose, so long as the vampire does enough Morale-lowering things to be equivalent to 5 Morale damage. It is recommended that the vampire’s player keep track of this, to lighten the load on the Narrator.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] This does have the added benefit of getting the victim’s adrenaline going and their heart pumping fast. After all, vampires feed on human suffering as much as the literal blood itself.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Terrifying or tormenting a victim alone without actually drinking blood will not restore any of the vampire’s Composure.

Where Does the Blood Go?

When fresh human blood enters a vampire’s stomach, it soon finds its way into the vampire’s own blood vessels through unknown means, their own heart even fluttering back to life to circulate it evenly, filling the vampire with warmth and life again from the inside out. This blood remains in their system for an irregular amount of time before eventually fading away to nothingness. If cut, they will bleed the victim’s blood.[1]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Though they have no reason to fear (permanent) death from weapons, when vampires make Composure rolls for being damaged by weapons, it could be considered that that which nourishes them is being drawn from their body. It’s almost like food being taken right out of their stomach.

For gameplay purposes, consider a vampire to have their most recent victim’s blood flowing through their veins so long as they are at 4 Composure or above,[1] with a higher level of realistic human warmth the closer they are to 7 Composure. Below the threshold of 4 Composure, the inside of their body will be dry, starchy, and off-black.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] Yes, this does mean that some small amount of liveliness can seemingly return to them through other means of Composure restoration.

When that which is not living human flesh and blood enters a vampire’s stomach, it does nothing to nourish the vampire, merely sitting in the stomach until suddenly vanishes after 1 Tick.[1][2][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] No one knows where used up blood and other food items end up, least of all the vampire. They don’t seem to come out of either end, and most vampires would be hesitant to search too hard for answers.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires truly give nothing back, not even to the soil.

[3. off to the side in the final formatting] Substances which cause altered states of consciousness, such as alcohol and narcotics, will have no effect on a vampire if taken by mouth. However, chemicals in a victim’s blood can affect the vampire, such that drinking from an inebriated victim could inebriate the vampire. If the vampire’s own veins are flowing with blood, substances taken through injection could also affect them. Substances taken by smoke inhalation will likely irritate a vampire due to the smell, but may or may not otherwise affect them.

Smelling Blood

Vampires use their heightened sense of taste and smell to sniff out human blood. A vampire can confirm if there is human blood - inside or outside a person - within the vicinity with a Partial Success on a Senses roll. With a Full Success, they can identify approximate number of individuals, their general direction and proximity, and in some cases may be able to recognize individuals whose blood they have smelled or tasted before.

Scent Tracking

Vampires are capable of Scent Tracking. (See p.xx “Scent Tracking”.) Apply a -2 penalty to the roll if the scent trail and scent example do not involve the target’s blood in any way.

I Burn Easily (Vampire Weakness)

Vampires have several literally “debilitating” weaknesses, other weaknesses that appear more neurotic, a special method required to kill them permanently, and many noteworthy tells.

Sunlight

Direct sunlight will debilitate a vampire for the duration of their exposure, rendering them unable to use or benefit from powers marked as such above. “Direct” sunlight exposure means being outside during the day, in the sun’s rays pouring through a window, or similar direct exposure.[1] Artificial UV light also counts. Shady areas and clouds will not prevent debilitation, but may help mitigate the worst of the sun’s effects.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Moonlight is not strong enough exposure to debilitate the vampire or impose penalties, though it may still feel like it stings a bit.

In addition to debilitation from their powers, when exposed to direct sunlight vampires suffer a -7 penalty to all rolls, including Composure rolls, representing painful rapid onset sunburn and eventual degradation of the skin as strength is sapped from their body. Sunlight does not do any direct HP damage to vampires, though the Composure damage could dip into HP.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] It is unknown whether this sunburn and degradation of the skin will eventually escalate to disintegration, most vampires are not interested in staying exposed long enough to find out. The earliest depiction of a vampire being killed by sunlight is Nosferatu(1922).

While nothing short of a full-body radiation suit can prevent debilitation, there are a few things a vampire can do or wear to mitigate the worst of the effects. Each of the following will lessen the severity of the sunlight penalty by 1, to a minimum of -0.

High SPF Sunscreen

Sunglasses

Hood or Wide Brimmed Hat

Full Body Coverage Below Neck (including feet but not hands)

Gloves

Umbrella or Parasol

Cloak, Jacket, or Overcoat

Heavy Shade

Overcast or Rainy Day

Once per Scene, upon being exposed to direct sunlight, a vampire must make a +3 Composure roll. This Composure roll is affected by the sunlight penalty as well as the mitigating factors thereof.

Silver

Direct physical contact with silver will debilitate a vampire for the duration of their exposure, rendering them unable to use or benefit from powers marked as such above.

Silver burns a vampire’s body as though it is white hot, and this disruption of their being confers a -4 penalty to all rolls, including Composure rolls, for as long as they are in contact. Silver does not do any direct HP damage to vampires, but being damaged by a silver weapon will apply the -4 penalty to the resulting Composure roll.

Silver Bullets

Silver is a particularly soft metal. A bullet made of silver, or even just plated in silver, when penetrating a target at high velocity is likely to shatter within the body and leave small pieces of silver residue behind.[1] Each time this character is shot with a silver bullet, look at the physical dice that were rolled. If they are both odd numbers or both even numbers, the bullet does leave a bit of silver in the body and the character is considered to be in physical contact with silver for all rules purposes until these pieces are dug out.[2]

[1 off to the side in final formatting] At the time of writing this, a single, fireable, professionally manufactured silver bullet costs $150+Shipping.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] To be perfectly clear, this is not about modifiers or cumulative value of the dice. If you roll the dice and see two odd numbers or two even numbers on the physical dice, that is when there are bits of silver left in the body. For D12s, silver is left in the body if any D12 in the roll shows an 8 or a 9, even if that specific die did not cause a hit–so long as another D12 in the same group did cause a hit.

Silver Hollow Points

Silver hollow point bullets will always leave what counts as a single piece of silver stuck in the body.

Silver Pellets

Silver shotgun shell pellets, flechettes, or other weapons which hit with numerous pieces of silver at once will always leave silver stuck in or clinging to the body.

Silver Melee Weapons

Silver melee weapons must be stuck in and left in the vampire’s physical body in order to fully debilitate them.

Digging Silver Out

Silver lodged in the vampire’s physical body will obviously be in contact with them and debilitating them indefinitely until it is removed. These can be carefully surgically removed with professional medical aid, or dug out hastily by the vampire (or someone else) on the spot. For a vampire to rip or cut silver out of their body on the spot, they must take an action and cause 1 Penetrative Damage to themselves to remove a single piece, or 2 Penetrative Damage to remove every piece at once in the case of multiple pieces, such as silver shotgun pellets.[1]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This damage is not reduced by their innate damage reduction, the values present already account for that.

Nasal Sensitivity

Vampires must have “Nasal Sensitivity" somewhere on their Tiers of Fear. Strong-scented herbs, such as garlic, onions, spices, etc. overwhelm the vampire’s keen sense of smell and they will usually attempt to avoid these scents when possible, though it does not damage them.[1]

One per Scene, upon breathing in or tasting these or similar strong-scented herbs will prompt a Nasal Sensitivity Composure check.[1][2]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] Remember, vampires only need to breathe for the purposes of smelling and talking.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Having something to put over their nose and mouth when they breathe, such as a handkerchief, may serve as a comforting factor for this Composure roll, or just negate the need for it altogether if the scent is not particularly strong.

Sometimes it is as simple as not breathing, but more aggressive irritants, such as pepper spray or tear gas will be extremely effective against a vampire regardless. Irritant weapons will immediately impose a (Superficial) Injury roll upon vampires, regardless of actual damage done. The result of this Injury roll will always count as one degree of success lower than the actual result.

There is a silver lining to a vampire’s hypersensitivities. They have a Base bonus to any Senses roll involving taste or smell based on the severity of their Nasal Sensitivity.

The Base modifier for taste and smell based Senses rolls is as follows:

Nasal Sensitivity -3 = +7 Base Bonus

Nasal Sensitivity -2 = +6 Base Bonus

Nasal Sensitivity -1 = +5 Base Bonus

Nasal Sensitivity +0 = +4 Base Bonus

Nasal Sensitivity +1 = +3 Base Bonus

Nasal Sensitivity +2 = +2 Base Bonus

Nasal Sensitivity +3 = +1 Base Bonus

If the vampire is an NPC, consider them to have a +4 Base bonus. Breathing in or tasting strong-scented herbs or spices will cost them -1 Morale, and being sprayed with irritant weapons will cost them -2 Morale.

Religious Iconography and Holy Grounds

A vampire must have “Religious Iconography” and “Holy Grounds” as separate entries at some rank on their Tiers of Fear.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] This weakness does not necessarily mean they have renounced or turned against their religion, often quite the opposite.

The vampire does not need to make a Composure check just from seeing or touching a holy symbol. However, if someone hides behind a symbol of their faith from the vampire, and the vampire attacks or otherwise physically harms them regardless, then the vampire must make the Religious Iconography Composure check.[1][2][3][4][5]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] If a vampire attacks someone and only finds the symbol afterwards, this still calls for a Composure check.

[1.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] The holy symbol does not literally have to be brandished for it to make the vampire reconsider harming someone. A visible cross necklace, or a cross hanging on the wall above a potential victim’s bed would also be sufficient.

[1.2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Audible prayer, or gestures such as the sign of the cross, may also be considered “holy symbols” for the purposes of this rule.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting.] It is up to the vampire whether the particular culture or religion of the holy symbol counts as a Comforting Factor or not.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Some vampires who have just woken up may not be fully up-to-date on their holy symbols. For instance, the Star of David only became a definitive symbol of Judaism during the Holocaust.

[4 off to the side in the final formatting] For defining what does and does not count as a “holy symbol”, simply ask “Would you kneel and pray before it?” Do two yardstick or fireplace pokers laid across each other count as a cross? Would you pray before them? Perhaps the answer lies in how desperate you are.

[5 off to the side in the final formatting] They have been 'alive' for hundreds of years, and no punishment has come for them, but what kind of a world are they creating if they devour someone who has nothing to protect them but their faith? Don’t they want faith to be an aegis, a safe refuge?

[5.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Do they fear the crucifix as they fear punishment from God, or do they fear a world where not even God protects the meek and helpless?

[5.2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Don’t they want faith to save them?

If a vampire knowingly intrudes upon holy/consecrated grounds, they must make a Holy Grounds Composure check.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Holy ground that has been desecrated in some way may reduce the penalty on a vampire’s Composure Roll. In other cases, the sight of holy ground being desecrated may be distressing enough to the vampire to negate any “comforting factor.”

If the vampire is an NPC, then seeking protection from a holy symbol is considered to lower Morale by -2. (This only works once per encounter.) A vampire investigator can also make a Social Cues roll to determine if a victim hiding behind a holy symbol really has faith in the symbol to protect them. If the vampire can be confident that they do not, this can count as a “comforting factor” for the purposes of Composure Rolls. If an investigator is hiding behind a holy symbol from an NPC vampire, and they do not have any actual faith in the holy symbol, they must make a Manipulate Roll to at least look like they do. If it is a Failure, the vampire will be able to tell, and the symbol will reduce their morale by one less point.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] A vampire can tell when you are smugly using their own faith against them.

Intruding

Vampires must have “Intruding” somewhere on their Tiers of Fear. Vampires posses a neurotic, compulsive respect for others’ privacy and the sanctity of their home, a deep-seated feeling of not belonging or being unwanted, a desire to make the sport fair, or all of the above.[1] They will not willingly enter a private residence without a direct invitation from the residents.[2] The vampire knowingly entering a private residence uninvited prompts an Intruding Composure roll. If the vampire is directly told to leave a residence by a resident, failure to do so will also prompt an Intruding Composure roll.[3][4][5]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] It is possible that their centuries of consciousness has given them certain irrational hangups regarding etiquette, or it is possible that they want there to be a space of safe refuge for each person somewhere on Earth. Maybe they’re just accustomed to being the last thing anyone ever wants to see.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] In the case of rented private residences, it is up to the vampire’s opinion whether a landlord, renter, or both has the authority to invite them in. In the case of hotel rooms, it is up to the vampire’s opinion if the resident, an employee, and/or the hotel owner has the authority to invite them in. (This only applies to the room, not the hotel lobby or halls.)

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] A “welcome” mat may serve as a comforting factor for this Composure roll if the vampire is pedantic enough, but not allow it to be bypassed entirely.

[4 off to the side in the final formatting] Depending on the social awareness of the vampire in question, these invitations and uninvitations will often need to be clear and obvious, such as saying “Come in.” or “Get out!” Merely opening the door will not count as an invitation, and merely acting hostile or rude will rarely, if ever, count as an uninvitation.

[5 off to the side in the final formatting] It takes a very specific kind of person to become a vampire, and many elements of “vampirism” may actually be elements of them.

Running Water

When passing over any significant amount of running water, whether jumping, wading through, crossing a bridge, taking a boat, flying over, etc., a vampire risks becoming dizzy and disoriented. They must make a Reflexes roll.

Full Success: They are able to keep their bearings without issue.

Partial Success: They are affected badly enough to stumble, but not completely lose their bearings. This may lose them a Tick, or a movement action in combat.

Failure: The vampire loses their bearings completely and falls to the ground. This may lose them a Tick, or an entire turn in combat. In the worst case scenario, such as if they are wading through the water or crossing a narrow bridge with no guard rails, this may cause them to fall and become fully submerged in the water.

Crossing over still water, small sources of running water such as indoor plumbing, or walking around in a city that has a sewer system will not affect the vampire. Narrators should only call for this Reflexes roll when success or failure would actually affect or alter the situation.

The ocean will always count as running water.

Submersion in Water

If a vampire becomes completely submerged in water, they will cease to function completely, their body totally paralyzed. The vampire is considered debilitated and cannot take any action under these circumstances. They cannot drown, and will revive as soon as any part of themselves surfaces.

Vampires with a Composure level of 4 or more can move through water normally so long as they do not fully submerge at any point. Vampires with a Composure level of 3 or less are not buoyant, and sink, applying a -2 penalty to any roll to swim or keep themselves afloat.

Arithmomania

Either a result of hundreds of years of consciousness, or because they’re just like that, many vampires possess a compulsive need to know the quantity of large numbers of small objects, such as grains of rice, or even sand in extreme cases.[1] They must have “Ignorance of Quantity” somewhere on their Tiers of Fear. If the vampire is confronted with something like this, ignoring it will prompt an Ignorance of Quantity Composure roll. If they choose to count it, they must make a Paperwork roll. (Particularly large amounts of objects may take longer to count than listed below, up to the Narrator's discretion.)[2][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] In extreme cases where knowing the exact quantity isn’t humanly possible, this character is too smart to be stuck counting literally forever. If this character feels they must know the number of grains of sand on a beach, consider a Technology roll instead of a Paperwork roll as they use their phone to Internet search the approximate packing density of sand and the square footage of the beach they’re on.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] There is no need to give vampires the Arithmomania mundane Trait.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] While numbers are the most documented, any particular vampire may have an entirely different obsessive compulsion.

Full Success: They count it quickly enough to not disrupt what they were doing.

Partial Success: They must spend one turn (or one Tick) counting and can do nothing else for the duration.

Failure They must spend two turns (or two Ticks) counting and can do nothing else for the duration.

Despite the drawbacks of this compulsion, the vampire has a +2 Contextual bonus to any rolls involving numbers or math (including those induced by their compulsion), such as a Paperwork roll to figure out if numbers in an account book add up or recognizing a pattern in a string of seemingly random numbers. In addition, when this bonus is applied to an Investigative roll, this character gets additional Investigation Points. They get more Investigation Points the more severe their compulsion, as noted below:

Ignorance of Quantity -3 = +6 Investigation Points

Ignorance of Quantity -2 = +5 Investigation Points

Ignorance of Quantity -1 = +4 Investigation Points

Ignorance of Quantity +0 = +3 Investigation Points

Ignorance of Quantity +1 = +2 Investigation Points

Ignorance of Quantity +2 = +1 Investigation Points

Ignorance of Quantity +3 = +0 Investigation Points

Once per Scene, they also gain 1 Investigation Point each time they make note of the quantity of a set of objects.

If the vampire is an NPC, then consider ignoring countable objects to cost them -1 Morale. If they choose to count them, make them roll at +2.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] In south Louisiana, it is tradition to leave a colander or a cheese grater on your porch over night, so that if a vampire or loup-garou tries to approach, they will get distracted and be stuck counting all the holes until the sun chases them away in the morning.

[1.1 off to the side in the final formatting] but most vampires would think that’s pretty stupid, because they can just count the holes on one edge and then multiply.

Stakes

If any object, wooden or otherwise, is driven completely through and through a vampire’s heart, they will cease to function completely, their body totally paralyzed. The vampire is considered debilitated and cannot take *any* action under these circumstances.[1] This applies even if the heart is not currently in the vampire’s chest.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This does not kill the vampire, turn them to dust, or anything of the sort.

The vampire will revive immediately as soon as the object is removed.

Light Sensitivity

For the purposes of flashbangs, add a +3 Contextual bonus to the resulting Senses roll for vampires.

How to Kill a Vampire For Good

Following these steps in the correct order may be able to permanently get rid of a vampire.

Drive a long object, wooden or otherwise, through and through the vampire’s heart to paralyze them.

Decapitate the vampire while they are still paralyzed.

Incinerate both the severed head and the body in separate fires–careful, if the stake is made of wood, it may burn up before the body does, rendering the vampire able to move again even if they are decapitated.

Mix the resulting ashes from both fires with blessed water.

If possible, have blood relatives of the vampire in question drink the ashes with the water. There is still no guarantee that following these steps will permanently prevent a vampire’s return, but following through to the last step will give the best possible chance of destroying them for good.

To determine if a vampire will return, the Narrator should roll a hidden D6, adding a +1 modifier for each of the above steps that were completed. Subtract -2 if the steps were not done in exactly the sequence listed above. On a result of 8 or more, the vampire will not return.

Misc. Tells

Spectral

The higher a vampire’s Composure, the more “normal” and biological they will seem, with more flushed and warmer skin, and even often a real heartbeat.

The lower a vampire’s Composure, the more spectral, palled, cold, and sometimes even “fuzzy” they will seem. Touching them may even have the tiniest bit of give, as if one could phase right through them with enough pressure, and may evoke the feeling of touching a CRT screen. The vampire themselves will experience physical numbness.

Vampires are likely to express mild discomfort in colder environments, unless they have recently inundated themselves with warm blood.

Eyes

While normal at first glance, under low-light conditions, a vampire’s eyes reflect red light with a shine not unlike those of an animal.

Vampires also have no need to blink, and will often forget to unless they are consciously thinking to do it.

Fangs

A vampire’s fangs are growing out at a constant rate, and must be filed down to a manageable size every few months or so. Larger fangs are quite easy to spot for anyone looking at the vampire’s mouth, especially when they speak. Vampires will often cover their mouths when they speak directly at someone, disguising it as scratching their nose or some other innocuous action.[2] Of course, they could also easily pass them off as well-made dental prosthetics.[1][3]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] What, did you think they were a real vampire?

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] The vampire’s player should mention this in descriptions but not draw too much emphasis to it.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Some vampires may not have fangs. The question isn’t why they don't, but why others do.

Additionally, the fangs can make it quite hard to pronounce TH and W sounds.

Reflections and Photography

Neither vampires, nor objects on their person considered assimilated, appear in any sort of reflection nor in analogue photography. Items that are not assimilated will appear to float in mid air in reflections and analogue photography.

Vampires do appear in digital imaging, but facial recognition and other image analysis software will not be able to detect or identify them.

Electromagnetic Field

Vampires seem to produce an exceptionally strong electromagnetic field. It is not enough to severely damage most modern electronics, but it would make an EMF detector go off immediately.[1][2]

[1 off to the side in final formatting] Some experts claim that the vampire in fact is this electromagnetic field, and the person one sees while looking at the vampire is a hallucination brought on by this field’s effect on the human brain.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires often struggle with touch screen devices, and not just because they’re old. They tend to prefer physical buttons.

Shadows

Vampires, and anything they have assimilated, do not cast shadows from most artificial light, such as flashlights and ceiling lights, but do cast shadows from sunlight and moonlight. Sometimes, regardless of their current manifestation, a vampire’s shadow will be that of the Monstrous Beast manifestation.

Gaunt Appearance

Vampires usually, but not always, appear as a ‘snapshot’ of themselves upon death. Therefore, it is not uncommon for vampires to appear gaunt, emaciated, or otherwise unhealthy, though the degree may be subjective to the viewer.[1] Vampires who were missing body parts for a significant amount of time in life will still be missing them in death.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Vampires are subjective.

Animals

When a vampire encounters animals of any degree of intelligence, the Narrator will roll a hidden D6. If 1: The animal will react with extreme fear and hostility towards the vampire, though will likely be afraid to outright attack. If 2-5: The animal will not distinguish between the vampire and a normal person. If 6: The animal will be unable to perceive the vampire at all.

Exact Orientation

When not debilitated by a weakness, vampires may sometimes accidentally “orient” themselves to surfaces that they do not need to, such that they will appear to be standing at a slight angle on slopes surfaces while everyone else is standing directly up. This is often hardly noticeable, and the steeper the slope, the more likely the vampire is to catch themselves and stand “correctly.”

148 notes · View notes