#I'm having a very similar problem with something i've been writing lately

[ghsface]

bro I love ur writing so much idk if this is how you request but tbh idgaf anyways. anyway can you write something abt Matt x reader at a party and doing some page 136 icebreaker shit? (I think that’s the page but idc) anyway yeah ilyy 😍😍😘

New Message ✮⋆˙

hey pretty, ngl I didn't read that book but I looked up what that page of the book is about and OMG THAT WAS HOT ngl, I tried to do something similar because I don't know the context very well, I hope you like it, ily too<33

I hate you - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You decide to provoke Matt at a party...

Warnings: smut +18 orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, semi public sex, unprotected sex (don't do it), p in v, oral f receiving, dom!matt x fem!reader, hate sex?, I don't think I've forgotten anything, if I do, let me know.

A/n: ngl at first i liked it but now i hate it i don't know why like i love it but at the same time i hate it ugh i hate that feeling yk, i trying my best i hope you like it anon, and thanks for the request!!, my first language is not English, so I'm sorry if there is something wrong or things that are not understood.

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You arrived at the Sturniolo triplets�� house with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Nick had mentioned that he, you, and Chris were going to a party, and the thought of hanging out with them cheered you up, especially since Matt, Nick’s brother, wasn’t going to be there. For as long as you could remember, you and Matt had been mortal enemies, the competition between you was fierce, and every interaction always ended in insults and challenging glares. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you got ready for the night, hoping that your outfit would make you feel like the best version of yourself.

You had gotten ready in Nick’s room, enjoying the time you spent with him and Chris, who joked around with each other as they waited for you. Finishing up, you made sure to take one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs. As you opened the door, however, a familiar laugh made you frown. Matt was sitting on the couch, his mocking expression already in place.

“Are you really going out with that? You look like a desperate," Matt said, with that provocative look you knew so well.

Your instinct was to ignore him, but you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh.

"Didn't you say he was staying home?" you shot back, looking for Nick's gaze.

Nick, who was about to respond, stopped when he noticed the tense atmosphere between you.

"You know, I couldn't miss this party," Matt said, raising his hands in a gesture of false innocence. "Besides, I wanted to see you make a fool of yourself."

"As if you were the best example of behavior," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're a fucking annoying bastard."

Matt smiled maliciously, enjoying the challenge you offered him.

"I've always thought it's my job to screw up your life."

"You don't have a job, you're just an idiot," you replied, gritting your teeth as you tried to stay calm.

Nick, visibly amused by their daily fights, decided to intervene.

“Guys, please, can you stop fighting, at least for tonight? If you have so many problems, fix them in bed.”

The two of you stayed silent, the tension palpable.

“Nick wtf” you said indignantly, and confused as to why Nick said that.

“It's just a joke, but if you really have so many problems, fix them somehow,” Nick said, laughing.

“You know we're going to go now because we'll be late.” You felt caught between your desire to continue arguing and your desire to leave things like that. Finally, you decided not to let Nick's joke affect you anymore.

“Come on, let's go now!” you exclaimed, gesturing to get out, knowing that Nick and Chris would follow you.

In the car, the atmosphere was tense. You sat next to Nick, feeling like Matt was shooting daggers at you from the driver's seat every time he stopped the car for a stoplight. You couldn't help but feel his intense gaze on you in the rearview mirror, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on the music Chris had turned on.

During the ride, the conversation between Nick and Chris flowed, while you did your best to stay away from the conversation, thinking about how awkward that night would be. However, deep down, there was a spark of excitement. The idea of ​​going to a party always put you in a good mood, and even if Matt was there, you wouldn't let him ruin your night.

Arriving at the party, you were the first to get out of the car and enter the party, leaving the boys behind you. When you entered, the energy of the crowd was contagious. You headed towards the bar, looking for something to drink. You ordered a few drinks, and within minutes, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade away.

After a couple of drinks, the atmosphere was more relaxing. You looked around, looking for Matt, although you didn't know why you were looking for him. When you found him, he was chatting with Chris, but his gaze landed on you immediately, like a hunter stalking his prey. The way he looked at you made you nervous and, at the same time, provoked you. A stupid idea crossed your mind.

You decided it was time to play. You walked towards the dance floor, letting the rhythm of the music envelop you. With sensual movements, you began to dance, feeling Matt's gaze intensify from a distance. The game had begun, and you wanted him to feel it. You touched your body provocatively.

It wasn't long before you approached a boy who was dancing near you. Without a second thought, you pulled him towards you, moving with a magnetism that you knew would irritate Matt in some way. With each twist and turn, you noticed how his expression became darker and angrier.

"Do you like what you see?" you mouthed and threw Matt a wink from across the dance floor, enjoying the discomfort you were causing.

As you got closer to the boy, his hands wrapped around your waist and ran down your body, and the closeness was electric, he was a cute boy but he was definitely not your type. You felt like Matt couldn't take his eyes off you at any time. With each movement, you grew more confident, enjoying the provocation you were causing him.

Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab your arm, and you didn't need to look to know who it was. Matt was staring at you with a mix of anger and desire, dragging you off the dance floor into an empty room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, slamming the door shut behind you.

"I was just dancing with a friend, do you have a problem with that?" I replied, crossing my arms in a defiant gesture. "Did you think I was going to stand there with my arms crossed while you stared at me like you wanted to kill me?"

"You're provoking me, and you know it," he said, slowly approaching, his voice low and full of tension. "You in your damn dress and the way that guy touched you."

You felt powerful and vulnerable at the same time. You knew the tension between you had been building up for years, and now it was on the verge of exploding.

"Are you jealous Matt?" you challenged, smirking. Let me get one thing straight, you shouldn't be bothered by who I talk to or dance with.

"I'm going to show you who you belong to." He whispered in your ear and before you could protest he kissed you.

He found you against the wall, his lips crushing against yours in a fierce kiss that seemed to distill all the rage pent up between you. It was an uncontrolled kiss, full of passion and hatred, and the line between the two of you quickly blurred. When you finally broke apart, you were both panting.

“I hate you so much,” he murmured, his breathing ragged as his eyes fixed on you with an intense heat. “But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your response was almost automatic. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”

He didn’t wait any longer. He led you to the bed in the bedroom, and his hands began to roam your body, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Every kiss and every touch was a declaration of war and desire, and there was no turning back.

He took you into a whirlwind of sensations. He began to undress you slowly, as if he was enjoying every second, every little victory. The friction between rage and desire was palpable in the air, as if the room was about to explode. His hands explored every corner of your body, letting desire take over both of you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he whispered as his lips moved down your neck.

“And you’re an idiot,” I replied, feeling the rage you used to feel transform into overwhelming desire.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Matt kept his gaze fixed on you, desire burning in his eyes. The tension between you had reached a breaking point. Boiling, and there was no turning back.

Anticipation grew as his hands slid down your sides, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses on your abdomen. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he promised, his tone a mix of certainty and defiance. But there was a warning in his gaze. He knew he wanted to play, and so did you.

Matt lowered himself slowly, his breath warm against your skin. It took you by surprise when his mouth closed around you. An involuntary moan escaped your lips as his tongue worked beautifully, licking and sucking with a skill that made you lose control. The way he looked at you, with those eyes filled with desire, made you feel more vulnerable and aroused at the same time.

The combination of his attention and the growing pleasure brought you to the edge, but just when you felt like you were about to explode, Matt stopped.

“I’m not going to let you finish that easy, baby,” he said in a whisper, looking up, and his eyes were filled with a mix of anger and desire.

At that moment, you felt like you were capable of anything. The rage that had built up for so long turned into pure lust. You gave yourself to him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations he offered you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the fabric of your dress as he slowly pulled it up, exposing the skin of your tits. The room was permeated with an air charged with defiance and attraction, every movement between you causing a spark that could ignite the flame at any moment.

It took your breath away when his mouth found yours again. It was a fierce kiss, full of desperation and rage, every brush of his lips was like a reminder of all the battles you had fought in the past. He pushed you further into the pillows, his body pressing against yours, making a mix of pleasure and frustration run down your spine.

Matt pulled away for a moment, his assessing gaze sweeping over every inch of you. He knew he was in control. He held you tight, trapping your hands above your head and holding them firmly in place. The feeling of being completely at his mercy turned you on in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re not getting away today,” he said, whispering in your ear as his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he moved down again, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, each touch making you want more.

Matt’s hands roamed your body with meticulous precision, exploring every corner and curve as you tried to control the desire building inside you. The way he touched you was both a punishment and a pleasure, each brush of his fingers a reminder of how much he’d wanted this, how much you’d both wanted this.

His mouth continued its descent, leaving warm kisses on your chest. Every time his tongue brushed your skin, you felt like you were on the brink of insanity. But Matt had no intention of letting you go so easily. When his lips found your breast, he sucked hard, marking his territory as you gave yourself over to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You’re as stupid as you are beautiful,” he said between gasps, the tone of his voice heavy with contempt and desire, as his hands slid down your hips. You squirmed against him, seeking more, wanting what had begun to become something even more intense.

He released you for an instant, just so he could strip you completely, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as a symbol of your surrender. The feeling of being vulnerable before him, exposed and desired, awakened a side in you that only he could provoke.

Matt stood up, looking at you with that mix of defiance and desire that drove you crazy. He approached you again, and with a quick movement, he pushed you down onto the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft surface. He leaned over you, his body covering yours, the pressure of his weight making you feel trapped and aroused.

“Now I’m going to show you who’s boss here,” he declared, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made the air between you seem charged with electricity.

Without further ado, Matt plunged into you, filling you with his body as the room filled with sounds of passion and desperation. Every movement was a mix of strength and gentleness, as he entered you with a brutality that only he could combine with an almost fierce devotion.

Amidst broken whispers and gazes filled with desire, you feel how both of you leave behind any trace of arrogance or defiance, allowing yourselves to feel the pleasure, although neither of you admit it, you have always wanted. Matt intertwines his fingers with yours, holding you tightly as he continues to look at you with an intensity that makes you shudder.

“You drive me crazy,” he finally murmurs, with a sincerity that momentarily breaks through all the hatred between you.

Moans escaped your lips without you being able to contain them, and with each thrust, rage and desire intertwined in a wild dance. Matt kept up the pace, his hands squeezing your wrists as he penetrated you with unwavering fervor, making it clear to you who was in charge.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his voice low and husky as his body crashed into yours, the sound of his skin against yours echoing in the room. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answered, each word laden with surrender as your body moved in unison with his, feeling the line between pleasure and pain blur.

“Say it again,” he demanded, increasing the pace as his thrusts became deeper, more frantic. The room was filled with whispers and sighs, each sound fueling the unbridled passion that burned between you.

“You,” you repeated, each word an echo of your desire, the recognition that everything you had felt for him was coming to the surface in this explosion of madness.

“Good girl,” Matt says with a arrogant smile

The friction between your bodies was intense, and each thrust brought you closer to climax. The mix of pleasure and rage was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help it, desire taking over you, making you forget everything but the present moment. In an instant of pure connection, feeling the barriers that had existed between you melt away, you let the pleasure sweep you away, allowing the world around you to fade away.

Matt finally found his own climax, his eyes locked on you, filled with a mix of triumph and insatiable desire. The two of you found yourselves in a whirlwind of sensations, each of you taking the other to new levels of pleasure and surrender.

When you finally stopped, both of you panting, the room was filled with a silence laden with meaning. You knew that nothing would ever be the same again, that the line that had once separated your hatred from desire had been blurred forever.

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your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

Tags... @bsturnzmtt @leannking @sturniololover69 @bells-sturn @sturnedits <3

[felassan]

David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:

"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."

"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"

"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."

"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."

""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"

[source thread]

[auclairedetoru]

Alrightyy, hii :3

May I request Levi with a reader who basically grew up around him? Like they were a child when Erwin found them and basically dropped them to Levi's care when he was busy. They have no home or parents and they have been a subject of experiments because of an ability connected to their blood (in my story it's healing but can be anything)

Reader is a 17 yro Survey Corp member but higher up than Eren and the other cadets since they started earlier.

(I'm very sorry if this is way too specific, I'm lowkey just requesting this for oc story purposes <33)

So sorry this is late, life happens lol 😭

tried my best to interpret it as close to your vision as possible. I've never written a reader/oc with powerful abilities, but it was fun to imagine it all and put it into words. I hope you like it 🤍

WARNING!! Spoilers to Levi's story in the OVA.

Levi never thought he'd take someone under his wing after what happened to Furlan and Isabel. He might not have expressed it but constantly losing people he cares about hurts him a lot, that's why he refuses to form any kind of relationship with anyone, too afraid they'll end up dead as well.

But now thanks to Erwin he's stuck with this grumpy kid who is in a very rough shape and whose frown gets deeper every time he looks at them. He was told that they had some sort of powers and that he's the perfect candidate for training them. Levi scoffed when he heard that but eventually agreed to do it.

He was instructed to take them into a random office and get them to talk about what happened to them wherever Erwin found them and then explain what the plan for them is. Time is very precious to Levi though and he has a lot of work he still hasn't finished so he's hoping he'll be done with them in a matter of minutes and send them on their way.

“What's your name again?”

Yeah, he remembers their name, it was the first thing Erwin told him about them, but he had to get them to talk somehow.

They glare at him and look away, their arms tightly crossed across their chest to show that they do not like being here and whatever it is he has planned. Levi sighs with a roll of his eyes. He doesn't like to deal with adults, let alone a kid who probably just became a teen and is starting to develop that shitty teenagers attitude.

“The longer you take to answer the longer you have to sit in this room with me and we both don't want that. So I'll ask again, what's your name?”

That got them to answer him with a mumble of their name. It's nothing major, but it's a step closer to making progress with them and ending this meeting quickly. Levi's not liking being stuck in this situation either and he wants to get it over and done with as fast as possible. He can already feel a headache creeping up on him at the thought of the mountain of paperwork waiting for him in his office. He could've gone through half of them by now.

“Where did you come from?”

“I don't know,” they shrug their shoulders, still refusing to look at him. He raises an eyebrow, where on earth did Erwin find this one? In the underground again? He hopes not. He doesn't want a constant reminder of that god awfully place.

“What do you mean you don't know?”

The kid huffs in frustration, “All I remember is being in the lab, is this what you wanted to know? Can I go now?”

A lab? What lab? He looks down at the paper Erwin gave him with information about them. It only mentions their name, age, physical description, and possible history. There's no mention of a lab or anything similar.

“What were you doing in the lab?”

They scoff and roll their eyes, “I don't know, they wanted to extract my healing abilities or something like that. I might not know how to read and write, but I do know that it's not possible. They wouldn't listen to me, though.”

Levi quickly writes down everything they said to report it back to Erwin, he has a feeling this has nothing to do with the underground, but a more bigger problem.

“what do your healing abilities do exactly?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Guess we'll be spending the night here, then.”

Levi doesn't spare them a glance as they throw their head back and groan. He's starting to understand why Erwin brought them here instead of taking them anywhere else. The survey corps could benefit greatly from their abilities, especially during expeditions. Training them will be the hard part, they're very stubborn, but he already has a plan on how to tackle that.

“my blood can heal injuries quickly, the worse the wound is the more blood is needed, but more like a few drops, not a lot. Those greedy bastards at the labs forgot I needed it to survive and got mad when I got sick from them extracting from me every single day without feeding me properly.” the kid scoffs as they remember those stupid blurry faces of the "doctors" yelling at them for passing out. It's not like they could control how their body reacted to literal torture.

“Humans can be very shitty,” Levi mumbles and looks back up at them after he finishes writing down all that they said, “that's why your first training lessons will be in hand to hand combat, you'll also be attending classes to learn how to write and read.”

Their face morphs into a shocked expression, their eyes following him frantically as he stands up and collects his papers, “what? No! I don't want to do all that, I want to leave!”

Levi stares down at them, his expression neutral yet intimidating making them gulp slightly, “you have two choices, either wake up bright and early tomorrow to start your training, or leave and try to fend for yourself, however don't expect those shitty doctors not to find you again.”

Safe to say those last words scared them more than he intended because they immediately get up and follow him wherever he's planning on taking them, as long as they don't go back to those scary experiments and tests.

A couple of years later...

“Captain! There you are!”

Levi turns slightly to look at the smiling 17 year old. A lot of changes have happened in the last few years. Y/n is now a different person than the one he first met. They're a lot more relaxed, a lot more happy. They tell him that it's because of their "very awesome and strong captain" but Levi thinks it's their determination to change that got them to where they are now.

“you're done with training for the day?” he asks them as they walk side by side.

“yep!”, they nod their head, “but Hange told me they need me for the experiments they're gonna do with Eren later today, just in case something goes wrong.”

Levi nods and looks ahead, “make sure four eyes doesn't go crazy with the experiments, the more they go overboard the more they'll use your blood and their stupid brain won't remind them that you're not a never ending fountain of healing.”

The young soldier nods, “will do. Plus, I need to take care of myself for the expedition next month, a lot of people rely on me during those.”

There's a moment of silence between them as they walk inside the building. Their relationship has developed into one where they could both stay silent for hours without it getting awkward or uncomfortable, and they both quite like that. Y/n did turn out to be the talkative type, like they're making up for the years they were practically mute, but they mostly rambled with the other soldiers they befriended, with him however, just his presence made them happy.

“Captain ?”

Levi hums to let them know he's listening.

“If Furlan and Isabel were still... Alive, would I get along with them?”

He pauses and looks over at them. He only talked about those two once, and it happened years ago to help them open up and continue training. He didn't think they'd still remember that talk or ask him about them.

“Maybe with Isabel. You're both a pain in my ass and love animals.”

Y/n nods and continues walking. They want to know more about Levi's past, about his life in the underground, about how he got to his position as a captain at the survey corps. They want to ask the people who knew him before them but at the same time they want to hear it coming from the source itself.

He is actually a huge inspiration for them and they look up to him a lot. He is very skillful and smart and they hoped to become like him one day, maybe not humanity's strongest soldier, but something close to that. Levi isn't just a mentor to them, but something much closer. According to their friends who have families, older brothers protect their younger siblings and teach them how to defend themselves, and that's exactly what the captain does to them, so in their heart he is their older brother.

Y/n bites the bottom of their lips as they look over at him nervously. Levi can sense their stare and he can tell they want to ask something else but are too nervous to do so. He sighs as the slowly approaches his office, “spill it out already, brat.”

“I didn't say anything!”

“But I know you want to say something,” he glances at them from the corner of his eyes, “so hurry up, my time is precious.”

Y/n looks down at their shoes to avoid looking at his intimidating eyes, what they're about to request is something very simple, but they're afraid he'd say no.

“...can I nap in your office?”

Levi scoffs. This habit started years ago and it's one of the things that made him gain their trust. They would nap on the uncomfortable sofa he has in his office while he gets work done. He should've never let them do it in the first place but it all happened by accident and now it became a regular occurrence. He planned on stopping it as soon as it started but then Erwin told him to do it and suddenly he didn't feel like doing it anymore.

He has that in common with y/n, being told to do something they were already planning on doing makes them not want to do it anymore. Now that he thinks about it, Hange and Erwin have mentioned on several occasions that spending so much time with him has turned y/n into a mini version of him. Apparently they have the same stare, same speech, same techniques, they even drink tea the same way he does. He never paid attention to those details, but maybe they were right.

“will that get you to leave me alone and not talk my head off?”

Seeing how they excitedly nodded, Levi sighs and opens the door to let them in. They run straight to the sofa where a pillow and blanket are already waiting for them, just like last time, and the time before that.

He would never admit this, not even to himself, but if you look deep down in his heart, you'd find y/n sleeping on a much more comfortable sofa, in a place where they're protected from any harm, whether it's humans or titans. He cares about them at a level he never felt before. Is this how it feels to care about family? Maybe. He never cared about Kenny like this, but it feels close to how he feels about his mother.

Sometimes he likes to imagine what life would be like if titans didn't exist and he never experienced any traumatic events that turned him into the person he is today. It's not always the same thing, but in every version, y/n is standing next to him, being the annoying brat they are, and he couldn't have them any other way.

Levi doesn't believe in religion, yet each day he prays and hopes that nothing will harm them or take them away from him as it has with others he once cared about. Losing them would be his last straw, it would be the last stab to his heart that kills him.

He looks over at their sleeping form from his seat behind his desk, and in that moment he promises to protect them with all his might, even if it hurts others in the process.

[luizd3ad]

Heyyyyyy :D :D

May I pleaseeeee request ploy!bartylus (that's probably spelt wrong) x reader? (Gn if that's okay!!!!) Like maybe reader it's supper into true crime or something similar but is a little over confident and a little stupid and keeps like kinda-ish-maybe accidently or not accidently seeking out active murders and not telling the boys before they go and like almost die now and then. or something. like anything is fine, I love ur writing so much ur so cool and amazing and thank you for existing please go drink water and have a lil snack that makes u happy and like don't eat a butterfly and idk ur very cool I hope you've had a great week and a good hair day and okay bye bye now um

I Was Just Curious... | Bartylus X Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x Regulus Black x GN! Reader WC: 1,623 CW: Talks of injury, being stabbed, blood loss, serial killers, murders, crime, police, swearing, polyamorous relationships. Author's Note: Omg, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out I've just been so busy lately thank you so much for the request and I hope you like it <3

ALSO HAPPY FUCKING SPOOKY SEASON EVERYONE!!!!

Summary: You cant help that you're curious...

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You were always so surprised that it took muggle police so long to figure out the identities and the patterns of the killers they were investigating. 

Honestly it didn't even feel like they were actually trying half the time.

It normally only took you about two days to figure out the identities of the people who were committing these crimes.

Admittedly you did have your magic and what not so that probably did give you what some might consider an ‘unfair’ advantage to the muggle police but that's besides the point.

The point was you liked finding out who these people were, you liked reading what crimes they had committed, obviously not to idolize them but because you were just simply curious. 

You were curious as to the why’s and what’s.

Why did they do it? Why those specific people? What drove them to this point? Ect. Ect.

So when you figured out that you could use your magic to find these people, that you could find out who they were. You perhaps got a little too excited. 

But who could blame you?

You finally had the chance to have answers to the questions that would flood your mind when you read about the heinous and disgusting acts that they would commit. 

So you would find them, confront them. Ask them the questions that would practically drive you mad and then turn them in. 

Was it the smartest thing in the world to confront murders and serial killers?

Absolutely not. Not in the slightest.

And your friends and boyfriends would tell how absolutely idiotic it was as often as they could. How they absolutely hated the fact that you were now putting yourself in danger in the name of curiosity.

The thing that bothered your boyfriends the most was that you would never tell anyone when you were going on your little ‘suicide missions’ as Barty called them. You would just leave, disappear without a word.

Now most of the time you would come home completely fine once in a while you came home with cuts and bruises, that would absolutely stress Regulus and Barty out to no end, but you never came hurt genuinely injured.

That was until today.

You had confronted a particularly nasty man. He was the worst of the worst at this point. 

He didn't appreciate being found out and he had no problem expressing that when he made the choice to come at you with a knife.

Now here you were stumbling into your dark and empty flat that you share with Barty and Regulus clutching to your side as the crimson sticky liquid seeped through your shirt coating your hand.

You had lost a decent amount of blood so you started to feel quite weak and dizzy already, apparating home probably was not the best choice in keeping your strength, but I digress.

You stumbled through the door clutching at your side bumping into the wall knocking over a picture frame glass shattering on the floor. You felt dizzy, weak and Merlin did it hurt like hell.

You were leaning against the wall for support, looking paler by the second slowly losing consciousness as you slowly sunk to the floor as the world around you started to fade into black. 

Eventually you had woken up to the sun spilling through the windows your eyes opening to see a white ceiling, the sun only making the white seem brighter. You couldn't help but close your eyes once again or the small wince that fell from your lips at the sudden brightens.

“Oh thank Salazar you're awake.”

You didn't have to look to know it was Regulus as he whispered; he sounded so relieved, so worried and so so exhausted.

You turned your head and opened your eyes meeting the sight of your normally stoic and well put together lover. 

Next to him was a sleeping Barty, he was curled up on a chair, his position looking beyond uncomfortable.

They both looked like hell.

They looked exhausted.

“Reg… Where…?”

You tried to speak but your throat hurt feeling so dry.

“Here, drink first.” Regulus helped you sit up slowly. 

You had felt a slight dull pain in your side where you had been stabbed. You watched as Regulus poured you a glass of water now realizing just how thirsty you were.

You gladly accepted the glass taking a long drink trying to help soothe your aching throat.

“We’re in St Mungo's, you've been passed out for over a day. Barty and I came home to find you bleeding on the floor… Y/N what in Merlin's name happened?” You had never heard Regulus sound so worried and concerned.

“I- I went to look for the man who's been killing people in London… he got upset that I knew it was him. He came after me…”

Your voice trailed off. You knew Regulus would be upset. He and Barty had told you countless times that you needed to stop but of course you never listened.

The sigh that left Regulus’ lips could only be described as disappointed and frustrated. 

“Why? Why do you constantly do this?! We could have lost you Y/N!”

It was rare that Regulus yelled or shouted but he had never yelled at you up until this point.

His yelling had woken Barty up to the sight of a very pissed Regulus and you looking down like a scolded child.

“Oh thank Merlin you're awake, angel.” 

Barty took no time to be at your side, completely ignoring Regulus and his scolding look. 

Barty tilled your chin up with his fingers kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips softly, he then looked into your eyes with so much love and relief that you almost forgot how mad Regulus was.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling? How's your pain? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine Barty, just a little pain. I’m fine I promise.”

Yours and Bartys attention was pulled away from each other when you heard a small scoff come from Regulus.

“Alright, Black. What's crawled up your ass? Our angel is awake and fine. You should be grateful that they're okay.” 

Barty turned and looked at Regulus with a glare. He was clearly getting upset with what he considered Regulus’s ‘unnecessary and bitchy’ attitude. 

“Why don't you ask them how they got hurt in the first place?” Regulus’ jaw was clenched a little, not bothering to hide his irritation. 

Barty looked back at you a little hesitant and confused (something that was very unBarty-like) he then looked at you with raised eyebrows waiting for you to say something.

You were visibly hesitant and nervous.

“Go on. Tell him Y/N.” Regulus countied not trying to hide that he was still very pissed.

“I went to confront the man who has been murdering people in London. He attacked me.”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Barty mumbled running a hand through his hair. “We told you to stop doing that, Y/N.”

“I know, I know and I'm sorry I- I couldn't help it. I'm just so curious…”

“We understand that but your curiosity isn't worth your life… we can't lose you.” 

When you looked up at Regulus as he spoke the last thing you expected to see was the tears brimming in his eyes. 

That only made you feel worse. 

To see one of the loves of your life with tears in his eyes killed a part of you.

“You can't do this anymore, angel. I had never been so bloody scared in my life. Walking in our home and seeing your lifeless body… I can't ever go through that again. We can't ever go through that again.”

Barty’s words pulled your attention away from Regulus for a moment, your actions finally dawning on you.

You had been stupid. So fucking stupid. You felt terrible.

“I’m sorry. Truly. I won't do it anymore. I'll find another way to cure my curiosity. I- I didn't mean for it all to go this far… to worry you both so much. I feel terrible.”

“I'm not going to say that it's fine because it's not, but we understand. We just can't stand the idea of something happening to you. You mean everything to us. It would ruin us if something happened to you. It's supposed to be the three of us. Forever.”

Barty sat on the hospital bed next to you, his hand resting on yours as he looked at you with love and concern swimming in his eyes. “Regs right, angel. You have to stop these little suicide missions. If me and Reg were only a few more minutes late, who knows what would have happened.”

“You're both right. I'm done. Honest.”

“That's all we ask, amour. We love you too much to see something happen to you.” Regulus sat on the other side of you putting your hand in his and kissing your hand softly, his anger and frustration from before forgotten.

“I love you both so much…”

You whispered as the exhaustion from your body healing and the high amount of emotions caught up to you, slowly you started to fall asleep. 

The last thing you felt and heard before sleep consumed you was Barty crawling up next to you wrapping you in his arms and then the soft sound of Regulus chuckling.

You always knew you were lucky. That you were lucky beyond belief.

You had amazing friends and two amazing partners that meant the world to you.

In that moment you had realized that your questions would just have to remain unanswered. That being here with them was so much more important than any answer to any question you could ever have.

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[applesontheground]

I am officially here with my very first request from you! 💕

Now, considering that I've been struggling with 'The Horrors' for...a while now, lately, I find myself more and more in need of comfort.

However, my idea of 'comfort' may be quite a bit different than someone else's, especially when you take into consideration that I've always found comfort in the creepy and tranquility in terror.

(Not to be overlooked is my ability to see the beauty in the bizarre and to take solace in sin...*ahem*)

Very conveniently, two of my 'comfort characters' that just so happen to embody all of these qualities are also on the list of characters you write for - Asa Emory, and Gabriel May.

So...here is my request. Since I *adore* a surprise, I'll leave it up to you who you pick to give me comfort. I'm not picky about the details, but there is one thing that needs to be included, something I desire most of all...

A warm, strong embrace.

To be held snug and secure.

A hug, Riri.

I need a hug...

what an understandable thing to ask for. love writing myself some good slasher snuggles when i'm sad, too.

i've been mulling long and hard about who i wanted to choose for you, and while gabriel is still very funky fresh and new to me ... i miss asa. besides what i did a couple days ago, really haven't written him since JULY OF 2022. A GODDAMN TRAVESTY.

it's been too long since we've shared our love for these fictional guys, darkly <3 as i've said, i hope i've made the wait worth it, and that you're doing well! (and hope the horrors have ceased, as well umu)

i can put my arms around you🕷️

SFW | Word Count: 1,300 | Asa Emory x GN Reader contains canon typical/mentions of collector work, injury, fluff 🎼: x

Realizing how hard it was to stand again had only actualized itself during the car ride home.

Working on some sort of autopilot since you had left the house, the weight of holding a pancreas preserved in a jar, watching human body parts placed beside insects pinned to sheets of paper in the similar inquisitive sanitation, and the incident with a live harvester skittering along the back of your hand with needle-thin legs bigger than its entire being, was felt now. In the canopy of your shared house, the garage cold to the touch of your exposed face, you watched him walk inside with saliva sitting in your mouth, sticking to the walls like honey. He gave one glance back, made sure you didn’t look completely devastated, and then disappeared inside.

It was hard to show gratitude even without the minor afflictions besides mental anguish: you had taken a particularly hard fall on your side, limping when you finally got yourself to walk away from the car door, and your head was thundering from a 2x4 – left loose from another one of his projects not relating to, well, collecting – having fallen from against the wall, center against the back of your head in a numbing connection.

Still, you let go of any frustration and ill will towards it as you crossed the threshold between the garage and your shared space with Asa. When you were entwined with another soul, you had learned, these ugly things were far easier to wash off at the end of the day – and you were hurting, but you didn’t mind doing it.

You really hoped he knew that despite limping into the kitchen, silently grabbing the nearest soft surface and burying your face into it. Catching sweat, catching the pained expression, hiding the flush that came with finally calling the horror you witnessed off.

It was all normalizing, helping him with what needed to be done and being let into his double life. At first, he had just asked you to come with him. Sit by in another room and do some busywork while he handled self-made problems. He made sure you knew his other motives, too: the shared time that came with the close access in between work.

Tonight, it was one of the first of a few since he needed assistance: you seeing the people he had been working on. Some were still alive; some still had the eyes to bore into your soul, lingered now in the momentary dark you offered yourself. Bad physical feelings – nausea, fatigue, all of it – would pass. It always had, always would. You did what you could to stabilize yourself now, brush it off again while breathing the familiar smell of the house in through the fabric, hand placed on the cold countertop.

The sink running next to you jolted your attention back, dragging the dish towel off your face. He had been staring, not yet taking off his mask despite the blinds drawn and his gloves coming off. All the reason to, but he still hesitated. You smiled only halfheartedly back; the best one you could manage as he held his hand out. Lost, but once again complying without any more explanation, you gave him the towel, and only then he spoke for the first time in hours.

“Did you hit your head?” He asked, and you replied, “I did. Can still…” Your jaw locked in a moment, so you instead gestured downwards as you started over. “I can still stand, despite that.”

He hummed in reply, now taking the opportunity to start reaching for the laces on the back of his head. You felt a slight spin to your vision, so you then admitted, “I am feeling lightheaded, though, so I might go lay down.”

“I’ll join you in a moment.” He said, sliding the strangely stiff material from his face, turning to you with an exposed face, “Right behind you.”

You smiled again, a little more meaning behind it this time as you stepped away. His focus lingered, more pointed towards your gait to make sure you’d make it up the stairs to the bedroom. When you sighed, straightening your posture and now moving with a strong purpose to go fall into bed, cocoon in the covers, he turned away again.

Relief slipped over you, first falling stomach first into the bed, the same need to hide your face for a few long seconds. After a few more moments of trying to wash the recollections, get it all out of your head, you begrudgingly bent a leg, undoing your shoelaces with your face still down in the mattress.

A snicker got you to pull your face up, looking over your shoulder as you scoffed back at him. “I’m a little bent out of shape, don’t mind me.” You joked, rolling over to your back, and he stepped further into the room. Setting a few remedies down on the nightstand, the man now stood between your legs, outsides of his thighs brushing the insides of yours.

You still had to hold your breath, too worn down to initiate anything like that but still letting him lean down, hands framed on either sides of your head. He leaned in, kissing your neck as he then trailed up to your ear. “I don’t thank as much as I should for…accompanying me.” He lamented, and you responded with a tilt of your head, lining up with a hand to his cheek and kissing him.

“You don’t have to.” You reminded him, “I have a knack for surviving what you’ve decided to throw at me, Mr. Emory. It’s becoming…” You pondered the word, hand sliding from his face to the back of your neck. Fun, maybe? No, too lighthearted. Bearable? Too distant. You met his eyes again, his pupils still impossibly dilated, no color in sight. The word suddenly rushed to the forefront, and you breathed it out below your breath, “Impossible, in all the ways I want to bear.”

He seemed puzzled at that, but you smiled and added, “I’ll make more sense after sleep. That’s all I can ask for.”

He nodded finally, eyes trailing down  your body for a beat. “Oh, actually I will ask-“ You hooked a leg around his hip, “Could you get my other shoe?” He was frozen, standing back up straight before he smiled, his voice still tender as he took hold of the laces. “Of course.”

Slowly, with as much contact between chests and legs as possible, Asa crawled into bed with you. He waited until you seemed utterly relaxed, curled in the large beige duvet and surrounded by pillows, to find where he fit beside you. Holding his forearms, you let him be the one to adjust now, and then tangled your legs with his as they came around tight. Constricting you to his chest, you felt like you could die in this position, relish the contact and feel the other side of the collector's coin flip to Asa Emory again.

A fast, cold force against the back of your head made your eyes snap open. The dishtowel you had handed him was holding a bag of something frozen – ice, those mixed vegetables you hadn’t gotten to working with yet – where the wood had knocked you almost senseless. Immediate rushes of cold, soft relief made you sigh deeply with once again more force, every muscle going soft and tucking closer to him.

“Oh, that-“ You groaned, your chin settling into the material of the sweater, full weight against him, “Asa, that’s perfect.”

He was silent, but the satisfied peck of his lips on your temple was enough acknowledgement. A perfect fit in all ways that mattered, he mused to himself as he kept the pack held to your head.

[starryredpandawrites]

“Born From the Same Ink” Ch. 17 Sneak Peek

Hairbrush? Check. Birth Certificate? Check. Social Security Card? Check. Nimble hands packed the items into a well-used backpack as their owner checked each of them off a well-rehearsed mental checklist. It wasn’t ideal but at least this way she would have all her essentials secured; there was no chance something would ‘suddenly’ disappear like the last time she mentioned moving out. Audrey picked up an old sketchbook, one of many lying in stacks at the foot of her bed. 

With the straps of her backpack slung securely over her shoulders, she retrieved her shoes and crept to her bedroom door, switching off the lights as she went. The tarnished metal doorknob stole heat from her hands as she slowly twisted it as far as it would go. Then, she nudged the door open, lifting it slightly so it wouldn’t catch on the doorframe. The hinges she oiled the day before gave no resistance as she peeked across the dark hallway to the other bedroom door, which was blessedly shut with no light leaking out from underneath it. A silent sigh of relief escaped her lips as she snuck out of her room for the last time. 

Breathing softly through her mouth, she traversed the hallway in near silence. Years of similar expeditions had taught her which floorboards were safe and vice versa. Each sock-muffled step was calculated, and she was grateful when she reached the living room and could place her feet near the furniture, where the settled floor was less likely to creak. 

She passed the spare room holding the poorly covered Ink Machine without a second glance. She’d lost interest in the dirty thing ages ago. 

Finally, she reached the kitchen, her freedom only a few feet away. She would have smiled if the lights didn’t suddenly flicker on, revealing the man waiting for her beside the counter. 

Rather than stand, he sat in his wheelchair, an increasingly common sight in the Drew household. A folder of miscellaneous documents lay open in his lap. The papers rustled as he meticulously examined them one by one. 

Internally kicking herself, Audrey hid her shoes behind her back and schooled her expression. She should have just used her window. Ruined clothes and a few scrapes from the brambles below would be much less painful than this conversation.

Masking her guilt with concern, the young woman greeted her creator father a little too casually. “Hey, Dad. What are you still doing up?”

Joey didn’t answer, opting instead to pick up another sheet of paper and hold it up to the dim light. Audrey knew the charade for what it was: she had his full attention. 

“Do you want help getting to bed?” she asked helpfully, as though she hadn’t already tucked him in hours ago. 

“I was looking for your Birth Certificate.” he replied nonchalantly as he thumbed through the folder of documents, ignoring her second question. After a moment of awkward silence, he raised a harsh eyebrow at Audrey. “Any idea where it scampered off to?”

Gonna start the next chapter off strong with a flashback, y'all. Hope you like trauma ;)

Fam, it's been 2 whole years since BATDR came out and I started writing this fic. I wanted to post this/the chapter on the anniversary but better late than never, right?

I'm gonna try to post the full update on Friday (November 29th) but it might get pushed Saturday (November 30th) due to the holiday.

Thanks for reading 😘 and an extra big thanks to the people who kept messaging me even though I haven't updated since July. I still haven't responded to every ask I've gotten (and I'm starting to doubt I will, a very good problem to have and one I never thought would happen to me lol) but I love reading every word. You guys (gender-neutral) are the best.

[deconstructthesoup]

I've been thinking about this lately, so, here's my Slay the Princess ships and why I ship them:

Witch x Damsel, aka Sleeping Briars: There's just something that's so compelling about the two "fairytale" vessels---aka, a witch and your classic damsel in distress---who can both lead to some of the most romantic routes in the game. The dynamic between a devious little prankster who has serious trust issues and can't let anyone get close as a result and an adorable sweetheart who trusts everyone and falls in love way too fast is really interesting to me, and I think they'd actually be pretty good influences on each other.

Adversary x Razor: Two ladies who love fighting, bloodshed, and pain in general? The potential is right there. They're different enough that there's some dimension, but they're similar enough that their dynamic would be killer. Literally.

Spectre x Stranger: Honestly, I just think that they're both very charming and would probably get along really well, but there is something to be said about them being the two Vessels you get when you don't really give the Princess a chance---either if you kill her without hesitation and get Spectre, or if you refuse to even meet her and get Stranger. They're both lonely and scattered, and maybe they'd find something in each other.

Thorn x Wild (Wounded): There's something really sweet and intimate about two people who've hurt and been hurt finding comfort in each other. Idk, I think it's nice.

Burned Grey x Drowned Grey: It's... it's right there. The duality is right there. The wedding gown and the funeral gown, the fire and the water---it's right there.

Prisoner x Skeptic: This is really the only Voice/Vessel ship I've got on my list, and it's because in my opinion, it's the most grounded. Prisoner is arguably the most human out of all of the vessels, and Skeptic's whole thing of picking things apart and looking at everything from a different angle feels like a pretty reasonable response to the insanity of the construct. Her cynicism combined with his suspicious attitude could make for a really interesting dynamic, and I think they'd balance each other out well.

Contrahero: Come on. Come on. They're perfect. The first time I saw the Stranger ending, my head was already buzzing with "they're staying in the cabin? Together? Married couple! Married couple!" thoughts. I'm far from the only person in the fandom who sees how amazing the dynamic of the intrepid knight and the goofy little jester is.

Smitten x Cold: The dynamic between the dashing romantic who lives off of passion and feeling and the tired and quiet soul who seems to have cut himself off from emotion altogether is too compelling to ignore. The tension just writes itself.

Stubborn x Opportunist: While these two seem pretty different at first glance, I think the fact that both of them are voices who don't know when to quit speaks wonders as to how they might bounce off of each other. One of them solves problems through fists and fighting and the other solves problems through words and deceit---and I think that creates a pretty interesting duo.

Huntcheat: @tai-janai got me hooked. It's actually pretty damn adorable, I dunno what else to say.

(Also, Nightmare is aromantic in pretty much every one of my AUs, and Paranoid is aroace more often than not)

[bettsfic]

hi betts, lately ive found myself absolutely terrified to write a fic/novel thing ive spent so many years planning and developing about. i dont think i know how to write it. ive found chapters format make me really anxious and clueless but i dont know how it can go in any other way because its always a novel thing; ive considered laying it all out a la webnovel but i dont think it works. whats your wisdom? do you ever get caught in similar things?

sometimes i think the clearer something is in your head, the harder it can be to put on the page, because prose is inherently linear and imagination isn't. you have to do the work of articulating what you see in a way that's logical and organized to the reader in the hope they'll see it too. prose is very flawed in that way. but it also creates an intimacy between reader and text that i don't think any other medium really possesses.

the problem is that when you do get it on the page, it's going to come out bad and out of order. no matter how comfortable you get with revision and rewriting, i don't think that initial "oh god this sucks, this isn't what i want at all" discomfort doesn't go away.

personally what's been working for me lately is that i do all my brainstorming by hand and then all my early drafting on a typing machine called a Pomera. it's a Japanese device that's just a text editor. literally nothing else. you type on it. that's been a big game changer for me. i bought it to help stay away from distractions while i write but i've found i enjoy having a separate place entirely for early drafting. it's very hard to nitpick text on a tiny screen that you can only navigate with arrow keys. there are similar devices and ways to replicate what i use my Pomera for, but that's my system.

as for chapters, they're really only an organizational system the writer needs to make sense of the major movements of the story. if making chapters doesn't do that for you, then, i mean, it's not like the reader needs them. readers need scene breaks i think, and maybe the occasional page break, but chapters are very much a benefit to the writer. it's a lot easier to wrap your head around "i'm revising chapter 7" than "i'm revising that part where my character goes to the hospital."

i don't start with chapters. i start almost everything with four boxes and i put all my scene ideas in those four boxes. the story never stays that way (always becomes 5 parts. always.), but that's how i start. when i begin writing a story, the chaptering happens on its own. i get to a natural break in the story (a high point, not a low one), and then that helps to set the pace.

so my advice is to start writing and let the story teach you how it wants to be organized.

[kangoneko]

Moonpaw Theory Discussion

[Elder's Quest spoilers below the cut]

In the newest book many facts were revealed about Moonpaw, which as a Moonpaw fan I was very happy about. I was also pleased to see the voice being something similar to what I imagined them to be... as well as surprised by other parts!

It's revealed at the end of the book that Moonpaw has a dead sister who died stillborn. The voice confirms this is her. Some people doubt this, but given the tone of the scene I'm inclined to believe her.

This is odd for a few reasons. For one, it's been established that kits who die before they're ready to be born can still go to StarClan, so many theorized the voice was a sibling that she absorbed since Moonpaw as a chimera has two sets of DNA. For this to happen to a chimera like Moonpaw by chance feels odd, especially when her sister resembles her so much that Moonpaw thinks the vision of her sister she sees in a reflection of water is half of her own face. The voice also seems to take Moonpaw's form when she lures Sunkit away from camp.

On the other hand, I think having her be her stillborn sister still works. Chimera cats, as I understand them, form so early in development that the "absorbed twin" isn't even a fetus yet. It's an interesting red herring, and prevents any misinformed reader from getting the misconception that chimeras actually absorb their twin as opposed to little more than a clump of cells. It also makes a lot of sense that Moonpaw might look near identical to her sister. Many sisters who aren't identical twins are mistaken as such in real life! I could easily see Sunkit, in the dim light, thinking the voice is Moonpaw. (If the voice wasn't actually possessing Moonpaw's body anyway.)

Whether this was some kind of writing retcon or not I think it still works. That said, I've seen the theory that maybe the dead sibling wasn't the voice and that the voice is lying. I don't believe this idea as much but given it's still early on in this series it might be worth entertaining.

Anyway, what I want to know is WHY her dead sister did this and no other kitten so far. If it's so easy for a dead kit to stay with their parents, then why haven't more?

I think the problem might lie in the fact that we are calling it "the voice", "her sister." What if the problem is that the kit never got a name?

This might sound silly, but Bayshine mentions that he named Moonpaw because her face resembled the half moon the night she was born. This means they didn't pick out names beforehand, or weren't settled on any anyway. What if the dead kitten was waiting for a name that never came? What if after a few days she decided to stay permanently, and absorb the love and attention Moonkit was getting that she never did?

Otherwise it seems like the voice just had a natural inclination to stay, which feels a little less likely. You'd think a cat might come down from StarClan to collect the kitten eventually. So maybe StarClan decided to let the kit stay until she got her name, but then the name never came and subsequently the kit, and eventually it was too late. StarClan also seems to know about the problem with "the two-faced cat", so I wonder if it might be because they already know Moonpaw's sister has been a problem.

Beyond that... I'm not sure if this is biologically possible, but I wonder if the DNA Moonpaw absorbed was the monozygotic twin of the voice. Because if Moonpaw hadn't absorbed that DNA she would have had two siblings, given the voice survived. I wonder if sharing the exact same DNA has allowed the voice to cling to Moonpaw. And in that case, what if we still get the absorbed twin plot, and another different voice pops up?

I still expect this arc to throw a few more curve balls at us, but Moonpaw's sister being an antagonistic presence in the arc has me curious. I feel like it would be odd for the soul of a dead kitten to become evil and dangerous, so I wonder if there's something else going on...? Maybe she's being corrupted or influenced by the Dark Forest somehow, and will eventually take control of Moonpaw's body to cause mayhem. So many entertaining possibilities... either way, poor Moonpaw!!

Given this theory relies on Moonpaw's sister never having a name, I'm thinking Moonpaw's sister might be reformed after she finally receives a name. There's a trope in ghost stories about a ghost having "unfinished business" and haunting people or places until it's finally resolved. Maybe Moonpaw's sister's unfinished business is as simple as getting a name. Kinda cheesy, but it could make for a bittersweet ending? I don't know.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far! If you have any theories of your own I'm eager to hear them.

[mightyostanes]

Against the Uwuification of Sheydim

"'I've upset you. I see that. But you know what it is to carve out your place in the world, to have to fight for your life at every turn. You can't imagine how much worse it was in my time. Women were sent to madhouses because they read too many books or because their husbands tired of them. There were so few paths open to us. And mine was stolen from me so I forged a new one.' Alex Jabbed a finger at Belbam. 'You don't get to turn this into some kind of feminist manifesto. You forged your new path from the lives of other girls. Immigrant girls. Brown Girls. Poor Girls.' Girls like me. 'Just so you could buy yourself another few years.'" -Galaxy Stern shutting up a soul eating revenant Source: Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

First off this is my first post on Tumblr so please forgive any issues with formatting. I'm still getting used to this site's layout let alone writing anything that isn't solely for my own addled and deranged mind. Still, I hope that this is at least somewhat insightful.

Over the last few years I've noticed that there has been a tendency among young Jews online to make our folklore and mysticism 'cuddlier'. To suggest that not only do we have a hell but that quite literally everything in our cosmos is friendly and misunderstood. Sheydim become relatable mascots of groups traditionally marginalized within the Jewish community. The leviathan is treated as G-d's pet who isn't dangerous whatsoever and is instead merely a big fish. Malachim generally like humans and are on good terms with the Jewish Community. And Lilith becomes an empowered girl boss with her malewife Ashmedai. A lovely story that makes great fanfiction and Jewish aus, the only problem is that it's completely ahistorical and utterly misses the point of these stories.

Sheydim while not exactly ontologically evil were usually depicted as predatory, amoral and capricious. A good portion of Bava Batra 74-75 is dedicated to describing how pants shittingly terrifying the Leviathan is and how it could theoretically destroy the world. Malachim are often depicted as threats and enemies of Israel especially in narratives regarding the revelation of the Torah at Sinai (Exodus Rabbah (41.7; 44:8), Tanhuma (Ki Tissa 20), PdRE 45, and Deut. Rabbah (3.11). And Lilith as well all know kills newborn children and was the terror of expectant Jewish Mothers for centuries. With the origin of her being 'Adam's first wife' coming from the Alphabet of Ben Sirach. A satiric work written in the late Middle Ages centuries after the first attested use of amulets and incantation bowls to ward of Lilith or lilin in Mesopotamia. Even Ashmedai for all his honor and piety was still treated as an enemy of mankind on average even if he was by no means an enemy of G-d. Of course, that is not to say that Jews haven't worked with spirits in fact the opposite is true. Merely that these spirit workings were often treated as incredibly dangerous works that were a mixture of lion taming and nuclear engineering. Descenders of the Merkavah had to battle through throngs of angels to reach the throne. Sar Torah mystics had to gird themselves with spiritual armor not to be annihilated by the angels for the crime of existing in a similar dimension to them. Even the act of Indulcio or sweetening the spirits often performed by wise women in many Sephardic communities was very much akin to paying off the mafia or in more historically accurate terms, paying Jizya.

My personal opinion on the reason for this trend is specifically because most Jewish content creators have been immersed in culturally Christian environments their whole lives. So, it would make sense for them to want to participate in the modern trend of telling things from the monster's side of the story. Something that is intrinsically tied to the fact that most of these monsters were metaphors for or linked to the powerless and the marginalized. In these scenarios, to show the story from the monster or demon's perspective would be an easy way of challenging societal narratives that do have real harmful impact even if very few people use the literal threat of werewolves and Medusa as bludgeons against marginalized communities.

Second of all there has been a major trend in making Judaism 'the leftist religion'. The religion without the fire and brimstone ideas of sin and hell that turned so many people to secularism. Progressive Judaism often advertises itself as the religion where evil is simply a misunderstanding and that's all cleared up there will be no more evil. We prided ourselves for years for fighting people who wanted to annihilate use with compassion and understanding. That surely rather than being bad they were merely tragically misguided souls who needed our help.

The problem with this in a Jewish context is that from the destruction of the Second Temple onwards our monsters were usually much more powerful than us in every sense of the word. In our stories, the were-panther who preyed on children was not the despised woodsman but the local bishop who no doubt incited very real pogroms against us. In our folklore, the heretical necromancer wasn't some liberated free thinker but someone who converted to the dominant religion and helped to persecute their former compatriots. Even Lilith who has become the mascot for a sort of 'persecuted heterodox' Judaism was by no means persecuted on the world stage in most Kabbalistic Treatise. In these works, Lilith was not the despised vagabond crushed by a patriarchal power system but the consort of Samael and the Princess of the realm of Edom. Symbols of the Christian and Islamic empires that have persecuted us for thousands of years. Or to put it in a snappy manner, the Lilith of the Zohar has much more in common with Margaret Thatcher than Rosa Luxemburg.

Now is there sexism and xenophobia in our own stories of monsters and demons? Unfortunately, yes. The amount of sexist and ethnically chauvinist tropes applied to Lilith in the Zoharic corpus alone are almost impossible to count and deeply troubling for modern readers. But that doesn't change the fact that Lilith was first and foremost a metaphor for SIDs and later on the non Vatican sanctioned medieval Marian Cults that replaced the drinking of sacramental wine with the spilling of Jewish blood as their main devotional acts.

Nor do I think that having progressive or universalist values in Judaism is at all a bad thing. I fully believe in the inclusion of those marginalized by the Rabbinic establishments in the past and do not wish to see us delight in cruelty. In fact, one of my biggest fears is that we might begin to ignore the suffering of gentiles because we rightly or wrongly assume they hold strong antisemitic biases. It's just that now, in an era of increasing antisemitic violence from all sides of the aisle it doesn't seem like a good idea to try and fight people who want to destroy us with beatific compassion and understanding.

[bluvlet]

since you said your inbox is open for trolley problem questions … no pressure ofc but I’d be interested in any thoughts/hcs you have about the chambers’ move to the countryside? it seems like they lived in london and left because of “that business” with ellie. how much do you think robbie knows about the ellie business, & do you think he was upset about the move? & do you have any theories about what happened to his mum? i would also be really interested in any thoughts you might have about the characters through the lens of class, sorry this is such a long ask aha but please feel free to pick out any bit of it you like & ignore the rest ❤️

Thank you for the ask, these are all really interesting to think about! I’m actually in the middle of writing a fanfic following Blake’s perspective, so I've been thinking quite a bit about the Chambers as of late..

Because a lot of this episode is so ambiguous, and a lot of details and past events are left open to the imagination, I find it really difficult to stick to specific headcanons. I worry about restricting my interpretations of events and characters, but I also just worry that the episode can be so sparse with information/context at times that it seems like I’m pulling everything out of thin air without proper reasoning. But I'm happy to share a couple random things that I've pondered a lot, and I’ll try to justify them as best I can. 

We really don't get given much in the episode, but I feel as if Robbie has grown up being very sheltered by Blake. I just can’t really imagine a scenario where Blake would have broached the (honest) subject of Ellie to him. I think Blake probably told Robbie the same story he told everybody else - about Ellie being delusional and obsessed with him. The move was probably spun to him more like getting out of the city for their own peace of mind  – something like Blake ‘wanting a quieter life’, or ‘being afraid of staying in the city in case something happened to him or Robbie’ (him using his restraining order against Ellie as proof of this). It’s unknown if Blake has done anything similar to other patients, or if Ellie was the first. I don't think Ellie and Robbie ever really interacted with each other.

If we were shown how Robbie views his dad, then maybe I could possibly argue that he had suspicions, or found out himself somehow, or Blake had twisted it in some other way that made it seem okay to Robbie. But judging by his drawing being displayed proudly, the multiple photos of him around the house, how Blake talks about him throughout the episode, and their phone call I imagine Robbie does not see that side of his dad much, if at all. Ultimately, ‘The Trolley Problem’ is told from the perspective of the fathers; it’s hard to tell anything about Ellie and Robbie and their perspectives because the only bits of them we get to see are controlled by Blake and Drew. 

Of course, Drew’s opinion on the matter when he decided to bury Robbie could be entirely different. I’m restraining going on a tangent about Drew and Robbie’s dynamic again, but I do believe that Robbie’s role in the episode is as another victim of his father.

Just speaking from personal experience, I think Robbie would be quite upset by the move. If Robbie’s drawing in the bathroom is recent, then his shyness at school could be evidence of that. Or vice versa: him being a ‘shy kid’ implies he may have found the change difficult – new environment, leaving friends, etcetera. Although, if he’s ‘gone on a night out with his friends’ that night then he must be settling in alright. I think it may just be the ‘shy kid’ comment and because the only time we hear him is when he’s panicking, but I do envision Robbie as an anxious type.

Robbie’s mother…I actually think about her quite a lot. Assuming Robbie’s 16-18 because he’s doing his A-levels, and Blake is just supposed to be Steve's age, then Blake was around 38-40 when Robbie was born. I don't think that this is a particularly unusual age range to have a child but, given what we know about Blake, I headcanon that Robbie’s mum was quite a bit younger than him – in her twenties maybe?

In the script, the Chambers’ house is described as ‘comfortable and ordered, perhaps a little masculine.’ And Robbie’s mum is never even mentioned, so it’s probable she’s not in the picture anymore. Again because of what we know about Blake, I imagine their relationship wasn’t anything good for her. If she’s alive, it’s easy to envision a custody scenario similar to the restraining order business with Ellie — where Blake’s twisted whatever the reality is into a scenario where he’s the victim and the only suitable parent to take care of Robbie. I honestly don’t think she’s in Robbie’s life at all. I don’t think Blake would allow that if he had treated her in any way similar to how he treated Ellie (the only other character we know of who has had a sexual relationship with Blake). This is all just based on the pattern of Blake’s behaviour towards Ellie and then Drew in the episode. 

I’ll admit I’m not really the best at providing nuanced media analysis through a class lens; I haven’t read much on it theory-wise. But I did recently have a conversation with a friend (who is a lot more knowledgeable about it than me) regarding Blake and Drew’s class dynamic, so I can relay a bit of our conversation for you.  

When I watched the episode for the first time, I came away under the assumption that Drew was middle-class, as was Blake (my mate said he also thought this). It was only after I started to pick it apart that I became unsure about Drew. There were three distinct points that confused Drew’s class status for me: the rant about NHS waiting times, him working as an estate agent’s assistant whilst in his 50s, and him having given Ellie ‘some’ money to pay for her private therapy. Only one of these things is proven to be true – the fact that he paid for Ellie’s therapy. The scriptbook specifies that the estate agent story was made up, and Drew’s rant about the public healthcare system comes whilst he’s still playing a part for Blake (the more I rewatch the clearer it is to me that their entire conversation in that scene is Blake steering Drew towards becoming one of his patients, and Drew is playing into this. But that’s another post for another day). So now I’ve come full circle back to thinking of Drew as middle-class (or atleast coming from it). I don’t feel confident enough to properly go into it but part of our talk was about Drew’s accent, which had always sounded a bit posh to me, but I wasn’t sure why. My friend backed me up on this (‘It’s like he’s posh yorkshire/east mids,’ he said).  

But the persona Drew adopts of the ‘desperate man with nothing to live for’ is coded as a socially working-to-lower-middle class countryman, as part of presenting himself as somebody Blake can revel in being above and take advantage of. Things like:

BLAKE: Is cow’s milk alright? DREW: As opposed to what?

which is an interaction that Blake finds amusing. A lot of their dynamic is built on Drew letting Blake think he’s in control, before Drew then pulls the rug out from underneath him. So for me it makes sense if Drew was playing into the lower class stuff, rather than it being indicative of his actual background.

One thing my friend brought up that I hadn’t thought about before was the possible fragility of Blake’s status, saying that he thinks of Blake as being newly middle-class. To just straight up quote him during our convo, because he explains it better than I could: ‘He [Blake] almost revels in his new mobility as a form of power. Drew plays into the class dynamic almost as if he knows this. I think Blake would feel threatened if Drew was more honest. [...] His [Blake’s] situation is a lot more precarious and I think we can tell that from his route in, lower ranked universities or online training being taken by working class people moreso.’ 

Not only does Blake derive pleasure from Drew’s working-class persona being beneath him, but Drew also finds pleasure in mocking Blake’s validity and intelligence (‘anyone can call themselves a fucking therapist’ / ‘have you read all these books? You don't just have them here to make people think you’re clever? / ‘[...] print my own diploma from home!’) This is all foremost about Drew exposing that Blake is using his occupation as a means of preying on people rather than actually helping them. But I also think you could add the element of Drew undermining Blake’s intelligence because of his qualifications if you were to view Drew’s middle-classness as more stable or older than Blake’s. 

I’m afraid I really can’t explain any of it properly. If Blake did come from a more working-class background than his current status, his ability to be more knowledgeable than other people becomes a great source of pleasure for him, especially if his knowledge is what grants him access to his status. Though I’d personally argue Blake is not qualified enough for his job, he does fairly accurately explain every social and psychological concept he mentions; it's less about him not knowing and more about him abusing his position. And there is this moment:

BLAKE: It’s utilitarianism versus deontology- DREW: In English?

which suggests though Drew is mocking Blake and his degree and him flaunting his intelligence, it's not as if Drew knows anymore than Blake does. Returning back to the Szondi patient that inspired Blake, (in the shortened ver. used in the episode) the sadist’s desires to harm people supposedly originate from being oppressed by authority figures in youth. I’ve gone a different way with this in my fic, but taking the ‘Blake comes from a more working-class background’ route provides a very quick answer to the source of Blake’s past oppression, and his complex about his authority and what other people think about him. 

We also used this to explain why he’s so desperate to maintain his status quo, as if losing his status as a therapist is him losing his access to his middle-classness. Blake being a psychotherapist in general is just really confusing. Psychotherapists in the UK aren’t qualified to diagnose people or prescribe medication, so where he gets Ellie’s repeat antipsychotic prescription (and whatever those pills he puts in Drew’s tea were) from I have no idea. And it’s not clear if he’s licensed or how valid a ‘McCambridge’ qualification really is – but I’m inclined to believe not very. 

But yeah, You don’t have to agree with any of this (especially the Blake stuff, I'm still quite unsure about him myself). Anything in this episode could probably be interpreted a billion different ways. But I hope at least a bit of this was interesting to you!

[lonely-shine]

Okay, so. I have a very stupid dilemma and I'm about to annoy you all with it because I can.

So, lately I've been thinking of turning Ebis and Marcus, my Submachine OCs, into wholly original characters. That is, divorcing them from the fandom and giving them their own original story/universe. Sounds good enough, right?

Okay, problem: I really love the journey that I already wrote for Ebis and Marcus for the fanfic and would like to preserve it as is as much as possible, which I don't know if I can do without basically plagiarizing Submachine.

Like, I do need to have a bunch of scientists exploring a weird ass, dangerous place that has a lot of weird space-time shenanigans about it. Which means I could simply turn this into a space exploration story and immediately draw some distance from Submachine with the setting... Except I very much do not want to write a space exploration story for these characters.

Nothing wrong about space exploration, but what I'm craving for this is something way more obscure and weird. And I kinda need it to be about a world that is not really (just) a world but (also) a creature. (Oh, the fun I could have with this, I'm telling you).

Thing is, I'm worried about this being/turning too similar to Submachine. Like, the reason I want to (potentially) do this is because I want to do something different and explore stuff in my own way, but I am very aware that Submachine is currently my main source of inspiration, so yeah.

(also, to be completely clear, if I ended up doing this I would probably have, at most, a bunch of character sheets and a few disconnected scenes that I might share publicly, not anything full-fledged that I'd properly publish/commercialize (that requires more energy and focus than I currently have), so I'm not even sure if me stressing so much about this is even necessary, but welp. I'd rather be safe than sorry)

But anyway, let me know your thoughts about this if you have any. Also, I might add more info about the ideas slowly rotating inside my head like they're microwaving there in the reblogs if you're looking for that. (I will definitely add that info because the thoughts kept rotating in the time it took for me to draft this post lmao)

[taylortruther]

i've been thinking lately that the alcott ~to me~ feels like a companion to coney island. coney island describing a man who's lost, or is on the verge of losing, the person he cared about due to neglect. no arcade rings, no thank yous. and the alcott describes a couple that is on the verge of breaking up, something that i believe is implied they've done (or almost done) many times before.

i don't think the characters are the same, but the stories feel so very similar.

If I can't relate to you anymore Then who am I related to?

Writing something about someone Who used to be me

x

And do you miss the rogue Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

I see you smile when you see it's me I had to do something To break into your golden thinking How many times will I do this And you'll still believe?

x

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island wondering where did my baby go? The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go Sorry for not making you my centerfold

It's the last thing you wanted (Tell me, which side are you on, dear?) It's the first thing you do (Give me some tips to forget you) You tell me your problems (Have I become one of your problems?) And I tell you the truth (Could it be easy this once?) It's the last thing you wanted (Everything that's mine is a landmine) It's the first thing I do (Did my love aid and abet you?) I tell you that I think I'm fallin' back in love with you

[palant1r]

my ideas for rewriting fallout 4

So, I've been thinking a lot lately about what writing changes I'd make to Fallout 4. Disclaimer that I've only finished the game once, siding with the minutemen, and I'm currently on a BoS playthrough. And I haven't finished any other Fallout game. So my knowledge is quite limited. But I still have ideas.

(This is gonna be sparse on precise details. I'm going big picture here)

Main problems to fix:

-Main plot is very railroaded, with little influence over how it goes, and lots of plot holes

-Missed potential with companions and NPCs

-Doesn't feel like an RPG. On one hand, it's clear Bethesda wasn't trying to MAKE a full RPG — they wanted to make it more of a first-person shooter exploration game. On the other hand, this is a fucking Fallout game. We're making it an RPG.

-Factions are very one-dimensional

-Little to no meaningful moral choices

GAME MECHANIC CHANGES

We're using the skills, perks and traits system from New Vegas, because different options for using different skills in dialogue is so fucking choice. And yes we're also using the New Vegas dialogue system where you can see what you're saying, there's no percentages, and you get a stupider thing to say if you can't make the check — no more of this four keyword bullshit. Also no more Radiant quests. We never needed those and they suck.

Also the reputation system from New Vegas. So you don't instantly become a faction enemy by shooting a guy once if you've helped them out a lot. (Cute minor detail: becoming friends with Piper increases your Diamond City reputation as she spreads pro sole survivor propaganda)

This reputation system should come with different raider factions. No more generic raiders. You should be able to be chill with the Gunners.

MAIN THEMES

Fallout 4 is set in Boston, arguably the birthplace of America. There's backstory of the Minutemen trying to start a sort of coalition Commonwealth government, which was ruined by the Institute. This is the perfect opportunity for the main plot to center around trying to build a government. How can these disparate factions of the Wasteland be brought together to create a nation? What sacrifices/compromises will you make? Who will you accept as allies, and who will you destroy? So that's one main idea: the creation of a new nation.

The other main idea: technology. What is the right way to use technology to build something new? What are the dangers of technology advancing too fast? How can government ethically use emerging technology to build itself, without misusing it in exercises of power? This meshes well with the synths. Which brings me to...

SYNTHS

Synths are no longer robots per se. They're genetically engineered clones with cybernetic components — pretty sure that's what they're like in canon, but it's made more explicit here. They existed before Shaun's kidnapping, but this resulted in mutations because they were using irradiated DNA, and the Institute was obsessed with creating the perfect human. The Super Mutants are an offshoot of that effort.

So. You start the game. This goes pretty much the same, except Kellog is slightly more fucked up physically — he has some sort of very obvious and distinct mutation, maybe looks a bit like a super mutant. This makes it a lot more plausible that people would recognize him by description alone.

Then things proceed as normal until you meet the minutemen.

THE MINUTEMEN

The Minutemen aren't a disparate collection of settlers + Preston anymore — they're the last remnants of the provisional Commonwealth government. Preston has lost hope that peace in the Wasteland is possible, and is just looking for a safe place to hunker down.

The Minutemen fill a similar role as canon, in that they're a faction who's most compatible with other factions. However, this should be framed as a flaw. Preston believes that stability is the highest good, and is willing to sacrifice other values for that goal.

The Minutemen quests should be less black and white. Each quest to gain a settlement should have a complication. Maybe a settlement leader values their independence, and you can threaten them into joining the Minutemen. Maybe a settlement will only join you if you chase away a nearby band of ghouls — but it turns out those ghouls aren't feral, and have finally found a place to settle down. Do you try to broker peace? Do you chase off the ghouls? Do you chase off the settlers?

Minutemen quests are no longer radiant, and offer opportunities to run across other factions. For example, maybe a settlement wants you help rooting out synths in their community, which brings you in conflict with the railroad. Maybe a settlement has been defending itself with pre-war technology which you can grab the blueprints for and use to defend other settlements, which attracts Brotherhood attention.

The ultimate goal of the Minutemen is to make the Commonwealth into a proper country, or as close as you can get to that in the Wasteland. To that end, they want to bring Diamond City and Goodneighbor into the fold, and get as many factions on board as they can.

Speaking of Diamond City and Goodneighbor...

DIAMOND CITY AND GOODNEIGHBOR

You come across Diamond City and quickly learn that the city used to have a population of ghouls, super mutants, and even synths. However, they were all recently run out of town by Mayor McDonough as a direct result of Piper's journalism pressuring him into taking action to divert suspicion from himself. Piper didn't like that this happened, but refuses at first to acknowledge the harm that her synth fearmongering causes, even though one of the people run out of town was a friend of hers — Nick Valentine, a prototype synth who once looked human but had a mechanical skeleton and brain. His biological parts have since worn away, and he's replaced them with robotic ones.

There are several ways to go from here to find Kellogg. You can track down Nick in Goodneighbor. You can get help from Piper and the information she's been gathering on the Institute. Maybe even the Minutemen will have insight, because Kellogg had a role in the failure of the previous government effort. Whichever way, you find Kellogg, and...

He has no idea who you are or why you're after him.

KELLOGG

Kellogg is, like Nick Valentine, a prototype synth bridging the gap between meat and machine. He seems like a mutated human, but his brain is mostly cybernetic. However, unlike Nick, he wasn't built from the ground up. He started as a normal human. He came across the Institute when he still had a wife and daughter. And in exchange for his skills, the Institute promised him immortality for him and his family. Kellogg didn't realize that what the Institute really wanted was willing subjects for experimentation.

As time went on, though, Kellogg and his family began to deteriorate and mutate. Their cybernetics got side effects. His daughter was unable to properly age. So he jumped at the chance to help acquire better DNA, thinking the Institute would use it to help him and his family.

Once they had Shaun, though, the Institute no longer had need for Kellogg, and they certainly didn't waste their effort using that DNA to save his family. His wife and daughter succumbed to the horror that had been wreaked on their bodies, and Kellogg himself went into hiding. He went to the Railroad, who wiped his memory and gave him a new identity and shelter, where he now lives as a recluse.

When the player finds him, he doesn't know who they are. He has false memories. You are given a choice: do you let the man who killed your wife and is the only lead you have on your son live a peaceful life, forcing you to go far out of your way and do some other shit to find leads? Or do you bring back his memories and make him the murderer he used to be?

There's a third option: you can copy his brain, basically, and upload those memories into Nick in the memory den like you do in canon. But doing this permanently damages Nick, and you have to reckon with Kellogg slowly assimilating into his personality like canon was GOING to do and DIDN'T.

THE RAILROAD

The Railroad is pretty boring in canon. "Slavery Bad" is a noble motivation for a faction, but it doesn't offer a lot of opportunities for interesting moral choices. Moreover, their conflict with the Brotherhood is so laughably forced in canon I can't believe the game shipped like that. But I came up with a simple change that I think makes them better.

They're a bunch of Super Mutants. (With some synths and ghouls sprinkled in)

Due to their lack of bloodlust, they're not exactly welcome in other Super Mutant communities. But they also share the belief that super mutants are the next stage in human evolution. They believe that humanity should be free to evolve into many different forms, and see synths as an extension of this. After all, they say, it's clear that humanity can't progress in the Wasteland by clinging to its current form. They don't seek to destroy the Institute — they seek to take it over, to offer super mutants and synths the ability to make more of their own. This makes them an inherent threat to the stability of the Commonwealth, even though they are sympathetic with a coherent ideology.

There's varying opinions within the Railroad on wiping synths' memories. Some object to it, believing it's unnecessary and dangerous. Some are idealists, believing that synths should have the option to live the normal life that Super Mutants can't — maybe some of the railroad mutants wish they could become human again. (Maybe you even have the option to give them Virgil's serum). Some believe the memory wipes are necessary to cut off the synths' loyalty to the railroad.

(If you take Synth Shaun with you at the end, you can have the Railroad wipe his memory and replace it with memories of you as his father. Fucked up!)

The Railroad keeps records of synths they've relocated. You can access these records, either through gaining their trust or through bein' a little stinker. That's one way to find Kellogg. But the records are scattered and encoded.

So. You've found Kellogg. You've Dealt With Him. You've probably made contact with the Railroad. How do you get into the Institute?

I think there need to be more options for how to do this. But I don't know what they are. We're moving on.

TO THE BROTHERHOOD OF STEEL!!!

When you first meet the Brotherhood in the police station, you quickly learn that they've changed their secluded ways. They've decided that there will be no future society that will need their technology if they don't interfere now, and the Institute, which actually develops technology instead of hoarding it, has lit a fire under their asses. But they've overcorrected and overstretched themselves. Paladin Danse believes it's their duty to secure the Commonwealth to protect its citizens, but acknowledges that they don't have the manpower. Knight Rhys has beef with Elder Maxson, thinking that the Brotherhood needs to focus on securing its existing territory before expanding. And Scribe Haylen?

She's a ghoul. The first in the Brotherhood. She's pre-war, and got her way into the Brotherhood because they saw value in having someone who could actually remember the origin of the technology they seek...and because Paladin Danse vouched for her despite his own hatred of ghouls. That's why she's so loyal to him. Danse still obviously doesn't like ghouls, but trusts Haylen in spite of that.

The Brotherhood storyline I want is a McCarthyism allegory. When they start causing too much trouble for the Institute, the Institute strikes back. But not with Coursers and synths. No, the Institute works in the shadows. They "accidentally" let slip data that shows there are synths planted in whichever factions they're enemies with at that point (which depends on the players' actions, and if you side with the Institute, you help them do this). This includes the reveal that there's a synth in the Brotherhood.

Cue the witchhunt. Everyone's suspicious and paranoid. The Brotherhood can't get anything done, because they're self-cannibalizing due to their synth hatred.

Because the player isn't part of the Brotherhood, Maxson and Danse know that you can't be the synth. So they trust you to root them out. Even if you're not in the brotherhood but you're on good terms with Danse, he asks you to help him. He says that synths are tearing his organization apart, and he can't bear to see his trusted comrades in arms turn against each other like this. (If your speech score is high enough, at this point you can start convincing him that it isn't the existence of synths that's a problem, it's the brotherhood's own attitudes that have led them to this point)

That's right: Maxson doesn't find out Danse is a synth offscreen. You figure it out. Maybe you take that Institute data. Maybe you find out from the railroad. Maybe you get Nick or Piper's help. And then you get to decide what to do with that information. You can keep it to yourself and watch the Brotherhood tear itself apart. You can tell Maxson, initiating a more canon version of Blind Betrayal as Haylen tips Danse off. You can tell Danse...but unless you talk him out of it, he'll reveal his true nature to the Brotherhood, hoping to end the witch hunt. But if Danse is caught, it doesn't stop. Now that one synth is exposed, after all, who's to say there aren't more? To save the Brotherhood, there are a few options. You can kill Danse and convince Maxson there are no more synths. You can expose Danse and make him the new Elder, changing Brotherhood policy on synths. You can lie to the Brotherhood, saying there are no synths after all and the Institute was just starting shit.

If the truth about Danse becomes known, you and the Brotherhood find out that it was the Railroad who wiped Danse's memory and planted him as a junk dealer. If Danse was exposed and killed, this leads to the Brotherhood going after the Railroad, believing it's too risky to leave them around as they could plant synths in the Brotherhood again. If you change the Brotherhood, this is a possible way to ally them with the Railroad, if you can convince them that they should ally with the peaceable faction of their enemies and that their policy of super mutant/synth genocide isn't tenable for maintaining control of an area.

But yeah, Danse's arc is a microcosm of the Brotherhood's arc: blind hatred of the Other is incompatible with their continued existence. In the Wasteland, you either change or you die. Cling to the remnants of the old world, and even if you surround yourself with bunkers and power armor, you will be destroyed from within.

Anyway. That's all I have for now — I'm still thinking about what to do with the Institute, and there are a lot of companions I haven't met, so I don't know what to do with them. But I think this is a good start. Feel free to add your thoughts/questions.

[damnfandomproblems]

regarding #5796

there needs to be some form of... of regulations (and I know fellow adults are going to be wary of that word) that helps better tune which groups interact. there's the adults who want to indulge in age appropriate content (be that NSFW, heavy and mature themes like psychological issues or in depth socioecologic issues, or gore), there are adults who don't want to engage with that content, or maybe only the mature themes, there are teens who want to engage in age appropriate mature themes like in YA novels kids shouldn't be reading yet... and there are the very young teens who find their way to the internet even though, speaking from experience, they really shouldn't

there needs to be a way to keep that in check, and I don't mean something done by the people who use the site/social media, I mean the ones who own and run the site/social media

minors have been on the Internet since it's inception, adults have had to be there by design and those with the knowledge of how were likely the ones to first start forming groups around similar topics or for them. there's no two ways about this, we both have been here since the beginning and minors will always try to get where they shouldn't be (I have an alt Twitter with several minors blocked for trying to interact with/post in NSFW circles... seriously why did they not just wait?) and no that's not safe, and no, we adults are not their parents, so there should be something in place that helps keep them away from content they don't want to/shouldn't see at their age

third spaces are disappearing for everyone. I'm a night owl and just have to have discord calls with friends at night while drawing/playing games because even adult oriented late night spaces are disappearing unless I want to drive 2 hours to a major city (I don't) and back (I really don't). there used to be parks, stores, restaurants, random places that small towns had for both adults and minors to hang out, but that's dying out and we're all turning to the internet to have those spaces

and while minors do contribute to fandom (I have a personal policy in place to only like posts because personally I feel very odd and awkward even attempting to interact with anyone under like 23 much less under 18), y'all do need to recognize that it's not just for and by you. we have been here since before we were your age (I've been interacting with some fandoms since I was 10! yes, that's why I say there's people who are too young to be on the Internet), we have followed in the footsteps of the adults who started conventions, cosplay, fanzines, fan meetups, themed parties and the like, we now continue their work with fangames, Multi Animator Projects, webcomics, etc. and yes, there are and can be exceptionally talented minors but they are exceptions because everyone goes at their own pace and some of y'all learn fast. I have adult friends in fandom who are starting in art, who are just now learning the skills to make their fanart and OCs, and writing from both can be very hit or miss for the same reasons

listen what I'm saying is that both groups need better help from social media sites and companies to keep us separated because as many Internet safety tips as can be shared or genuinely needed warning posts can be made we are both stuck in this mess due to outside society. we need the ability to keep our different types of groups to themselves so minors can have their fun safely and talk and ramble and be as 'cringe' as they want, but so can adults in their respective areas because we are going to make the content regardless of someone else's ideals or demands. there needs to be better rules in place to keep us from clashing and to keep minors safe because it feels like (so my opinion) Internet safety is being forgotten

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[soulcluster]

some thoughts about Lucanis & Spite, with Veilguard + Tevinter Nights spoilers

I've been thinking lately about Lucanis and Spite and especially in comparison to Anders and Justice. I haven't seen all of his paths in the game yet, but a supported Lucanis is able to make peace with Spite and the two start to work together as one. They hardly face the same challenges as Anders and Justice did. I thought about this for awhile and I think partially it can be traced back to how the two men were trained.

Lucanis is obviously not a mage, but as a Crow he did undergo severe training. Tevinter Nights explains how his grandma beat him with her cane, that he can still feel the tingle of it on his back, and how she starved him for days when training him as a crow. he says in Veilgaurd that he resented her for it...but that he doesn't anymore.

To me, I think he just repressed all of his feelings on the matter out of survival. he could not escape the crows, he could not escape his family, but if he kept resenting how he had been raised then it wouldn't end well for him (this is my speculation/headcanon, I'm unsure yet if this is expanded on in some manner I haven't seen yet)

Spite was forced on him after a year of being locked away and tortured, and I think Lucanis only came out of that as well as he did because he'd already been subjected to something similar in his youth. And despite these circumstances, Spite and Lucanis don't seem to have the same dynamic/issues as Anders and Justice.

Pivoting to Anders, one of the Veilguard codexes talks about possession.

Anders isn't the first companion we've had with a spirit either. Wynne was possessed by a spirit of compassion and those two co-existed. Easier, I'm sure, since that emotion was much more benevolent, but I think it's also important to note that Wynne was older when it happened and much more confident in herself. Even when Anders accepted Justice, he was Justice and not Vengeance.

So to me one of the big key differences between Lucanis and Anders is that Anders received poor training from the Ferelden Circle, and though he grew to be proud of his magic and would fight for mage rights, he was still raised with that shame. That lack of foundational training made it easier for him to have a rift with Justice. However, if that was all, maybe things would've turned out OK. Probably the bigger factor to Anders was Kirkwall itself. It was a hotbed of blood magic, which weakened the Veil and made things unstable. Kirkwall was also pretty much a cursed location because of all the slaves and blood magic that had been there previously.

Lucanis has the benefit of both being a very disciplined man and also spending most of his time at the Lighthouse. It's said somewhere, probably one of the banters or convos around the place, that the Lighthouse protects them all from the worst of the Fade. It's a much more peaceful location compared to Kirkwall and Lucanis was not dealing with a very personal, long standing struggle for mage rights that would see him and those he loved dead if he didn't do something. They're in such vastly different circumstances with vastly different personalities and ways to approach their problems. Comparing them has been really interesting

When I write Lucanis I do plan to do a bit more with Spite, but right now I'm also still soaking up a lot of info. My first playthrough I saved Treviso and this time I plan to save Minrathous and I know Lucanis takes that hard so I'm eager to see how his personality shifts.