#i already have some plot points so all i need to do is connect the dots and construct the character roles themselves

[reality-shitting]

General realizations ab shifting that helped me

The void is not a realm or a place- it is YOU. You ARE the Void. The Void is solely the awareness of being, fully.

You are not ONE being. Think of the consciousness in you as being interconnected with all other infinite versions of you. These interconnections converge into your full consciousness, the true YOU. It's almost Eldritch to think about.

Something I'm just now thinking of, perhaps this means the subconscious is all other versions of you- you're separated and cut off from experiencing the entirety of being, but that entirety is still there, guiding you from behind the scenes.

No matter what the assumption, "I am" is true. I am kind, as my actions and thoughts show, but I'm also cruel and cold-hearted, as may be the perception of another. I think I'm funny, but someone else may think I'm cheesy- therefore, I am both. And this also goes for the personas of myself in other realities. I am everything. Simultaneously, this also means I am Nothing. I simply am.

To add to the points above, I believe this "Eldritch" conglomerate is what we call the Void state, and would explain why every manifestation happens instantly once we reach this state. Think of it like accessing the files in an infinite data base- all you need to do is find the files you're looking for and download them.

As much as people will try to stress things like "you need to let go" or realizing that shifting is easy, you won't truly be able to understand what they're saying until you experience it.

All things exist at once and every inconceivably small action creates a new reality. As small as "this single cell from 7000 years ago died .000000001 seconds prematurely", and smaller.

Shifting IS easy- in the same way that gleeking or stretching is easy. Some people are able to do it on command or go further than others with no training whatsoever. Others may do it accidentally and sporadically. This does not mean the latter are unable to do these things at will, but they simply need a bit of help learning to do it on command.

Question stressing you out? "But what about this plot hole?", "How does XYZ work??", "What will happen back in my OR???"- STOP. No need to stress yourself over that, this by itself I feel cost me years on my journey. Everything will work out. It doesn't matter how, but it will, and it will either even itself out or be in your favor. Don't even think about those things. Relax.

Another one that held me back MASSIVELY. Struggling to visualize your DR? "I know it has THIS SPECIFIC TABLE in this SPECIFIC place and everything has to be perfect"! No. Your visualization does Not need to be perfect. Nor does it have to be "accurate", really. Once you just let your mind wander and let your subconscious make up it's own layout, it'll help you slip in much more easily. I put so much pressure on myself to make sure I was visualizing my specific reality, and it became so much easier when I just trusted myself to build it up from my subconscious instead of "forcing" a look

They say once it's in the 4D (imagination), it's already real. That's why you're encouraged to embody, think, act, feel as your DR self. Like playing pretend as a kid, you'll be so focused on your imagination, you don't even realize you're in your OR. If you don't shift through that alone, it certainly helps make you feel far more connected. This is also why I came up with the Furina method (although I suppose it's debatable if I really "came up" with it)

Methods/Advice are like pants. Some are too itchy, some are too tight, some you like the feel of but there's just some small flaw. When you find what you were missing, what you needed to hear, it'll be a perfect fit.

[sabertoothwalrus]

do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?

that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.

The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.

It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.

Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.

Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:

she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.

She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)

VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.

Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.

it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.

If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.

I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.

But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?

We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.

So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.

[annabelle--cane]

"the magnus protocol had a whole ARG beforehand? what?"

yes! it did!

"oh so I need to have participated in this whole big thing to actually understand the podcast?"

not at all! from the official post-mortem put out by RQ, "while the ARG was not something that was necessary to participate in to understand the magnus protocol, it was designed to contain a wealth of background story and context that would enrich any player's listening experience."

"a wealth of background context that would enrich my listening experience 👀👀👀 how can I learn about this?"

SO glad you asked. sadly, many of the materials made for the arg have been taken down since the game ended 😔 (ex., the official OIAR, magnus institute, and bonzoland websites. (edit ii: I found partial wayback machine captures! see below) though @strangehauntsuk is still up!), so we're a bit low on primary sources, but in terms of learning about what happened:

for a starting point, I would really recommend this video by @pinkelotjeart

it's super accessible, it was made in real time as the game progressed and follows the solving and revelation of clues as they happened, it hits all the major points of the mystery and moments of community insanity while eliding some of the nitty gritty puzzle grinding, 10/10 would recommend.

here's the official summary put out by RQ, and I'd recommend reading through this once you've already gotten a basic handle on the flow of the story and the basic connections between major clues and events. it's got some fun behind-the-scenes info and lays out the thought process behind the puzzles in simple terms

here's the full masterdoc of all puzzles and resolutions put together in the statement remains discord server. masterdoc my absolute BELOVED, masterdoc my bethrothed, masterdoc my soul mate. I'd recommend this as a second port of call after the above video as it either contains all details about the puzzles or links to other expanded docs that do.

here's the narrative summary doc that lays out all the plot and lore discovered in three pages of plain prose. if you just want to get to the good bits as fast as you can and get blasted directly in the face by contextless lore bombs, this is the doc for you. if you don't want to start with the video, I'd say this is another good entry point.

once you've got the lay of the land, some of the game materials that I found particularly interesting include:

the in-universe east germany expat usenet forum, with all content translated into english. most of it is irrelevant space filler with occasional extremely sus lore, but I still found it fun to read through. love to soak in some fictional forum drama.

chdb.xlsx, the spreadsheet of the names of all the children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was studying/experimenting on. EDIT: here is a version of the sheet without any annotations and with all of the names in their original order, kudos to @theboombutton for catching that the commonly shared copy had the order swapped around.

klaus.xls, a (very corrupted) spreadsheet with what looks like the classifications of a bunch of old OIAR cases.

EDIT: have a few more saved materials from the game that I forgot to include.

an in-universe audio ad to apply to the OIAR that ran before archives episodes and kicked off the whole game.

an in-universe video ad to apply to the OIAR, this one is an official upload that's still up from the game itself. you can subscribe to the OIAR's official youtube channel today, if you so chose.

the robo-voicemail greeting from the OIAR's phone line.

EDIT II:

here is a wayback machine capture of the OIAR's official website.

here is a wayback machine capture of the bonzoland website.

(pretty sure both of the above captures just archived the home pages, though I haven't tried clicking all of the links. I'd say they're still worth looking at, the home pages give a good window into the vibes.)

once you start poking around in these documents, you'll find a bunch of links to others with further information, the materials I've included here just contain what I feel to be the most relevant details to getting a broad feel for the whole game. once again, huge shout out to the statement remains server, I was barely in there as the ARG was in progress and only ducked my head in every so often to find links like these. true mvps of the fandom.

[httpknjoon]

satellite | jjk

plot | Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.

w.c | 3K

genre | fluff, slight angst, fwb (but nothing 18+ happened)

pairing | jungkook x medstudent!reader

note | written from my own swamp of academic-related activities

main masterlist | playlist

JK

u up?

You

yep

i'm studying

exams tomorrow

JK

:(

can i come over

You

yes but don't be a distraction

JK

u know i can't help it 😪

You

🙄

i'm busy stop texting me

JK

will be there in five

You

door's open no need to knock

JK

see u 😉

Maybe you should have just pursued a course in creative writing... Or maybe culinary arts. Maybe something connected with baking. You love baking, right?

Maybe if you picked a college program based on your hobbies, you have better sleep. Maybe you are happier. At 11:51 PM, maybe you are already sleeping soundly on your bed, next to your emotional support stuffed toy, with your favorite weighted blanket on your exhausted being.

But you didn't. You can't.

So here you are, sitting in a swamp of written notes, books, and colorful post-its (that you haven't found any helpful use yet), having a crisis over your career choices.

"You want this, YN." you remind yourself, shaking your head.

Your digital clock on your study desk just ticked the time to 11:52 PM. It has been almost three hours since you began your planned all-nighter for tomorrow's exam.

"I want to cry." you sighed, your forehead softly hitting your desk. "But I don't have the time for that."

Groaning, you opened one of the textbooks you borrowed from the library. You tried to process every word you came across. But considering that you went straight from your eight-hour shift from your part-time job, you only managed to comprehend half of the sentences you read.

"I wish I was born as a nepo-baby."

Another random thought rolled off your tongue instead of understanding where the hell the spine of the scapula is. Admittedly, you find it hard to locate the muscles in the human body when you only have a 2D version of it. But you don't have those 3D models that can help you to learn and remember better, so you will settle for pointing your index fingers at flat images on the book pages.

"Trapezius... Acromion... Deltoid..."

Reciting the muscles in the familiar tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star", you began pointing to certain areas of your body. It was one of the studying techniques you have been using since you were younger. So far, it's helping. You keep doing it for the other parts.

"Subscapularis..."

But the longer you sang, the words slowly rambled in your tongue and your eyelids got heavier. You were so close to drifting away until you heard the familiar click of your door. Your head snapped up instantly. You hear his voice greeting your roommate who's probably watching her favorite show in the living room.

"Pizza and ice cream. Want some?" you heard him offer.

He brought food?! Of course, he did. He's Jungkook. For the first time since you sat in front of your study desk, a smile formed on your lips. Shaking your head, you just read your notes again. It didn't take long for your bedroom door to open. The scent of a freshly baked pizza filled every corner of your room. And there, you see him coming in with a smile on his pierced lips.

"Oh, hello, gorgeous."

Jungkook was surprised to see you already looking at him when he entered your room. Usually, he would find your nose dipped between your textbooks when he visits during your study sessions.

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, "I know, I looked like a mess right now. Just give me my prized pizza and ice cream please."

He laughed, not because he agreed with you, but because you are always quick to turn down his micro-flirting. He sometimes thinks that it keeps him grounded.

"And you got the coffee ones! This is why you're my favorite hookup buddy." you quipped before kissing his cheek, elated by the ice cream he got you.

"I'm honored. Thank you." he replied, before getting a slice of pizza.

Both of you know that you don't have any other hookup buddy. You're not that adventurous. It's just something you joke about.

"How's the studying going?" he asked before sitting on your bed.

"Shit." you shake your head, tired. "But this ice cream makes me feel a little better."

Jungkook smiled at that. He listened as you went on telling him about something that happened in your shift earlier today. But he ended up studying you. Because contrary to what you said earlier, you are too pretty, he finds it distracting. You were tired, it's written on your face. But the way your eyes light up as you share your story makes your face glow. With your desk lamp being the only light in your room, it perfectly highlights the small smile on your lips after you take another spoonful of the cold dessert.

"Why did you come here anyway?"

Your sudden question snaps Jungkook out of his daze. He cleared his throat.

"I-I'm bored and you're up."

He was not bored. In fact, he missed a party he was invited to tonight because it has been four days since he last saw you. He was busy with his training and practice, while you were working two jobs and studying. You two were just texting each other these days and with how rare you reply during the daytime, he knew that tonight is probably the best time to see you.

You sigh, "I told you, I'm studying for tomorrow. I can't do anything with you right now."

"And I didn't say we have to do anything. I'm just happy to be here. I'm like little Bear right there." he replied, pointing to your stuffed toy who was sitting next to him.

"Okay, I'll go back to studying. Is that okay?" you asked, putting on the lid of your half-finished ice cream.

He winked, "Of course."

Jungkook is that person you probably know for too long. Like, someone you should have met only once or twice or occasionally. Not like this, in which you see each other almost every day.

When Liz, your roommate, introduced you two to each other during some Halloween party, in which you came as Dorothy from The Wizards of Oz and he was Peter Pan, you did not expect to start any kind of connection with him. You remembered thinking to yourself how exhausting it was to have him around with how he seemed so full of energy, not knowing then that he also enjoyed the same little things you did. You two became real friends after bumping into one another in a record store an hour away from your uni.

Because you feel that you two always stood on opposite ends of any scale. You were a reserved working student with introverted tendencies while on the opposite, Jungkook is a known varsity star, who's rumored to be a CEO's son (He is. He admitted it to you), on campus with a charm that works for everyone.  Just like how great he is at playing basketball, he is equally good at socializing and making new connections. That charm definitely worked for you a year ago because one thing led to another and now, he is in your bed, casually scrolling on his phone.

"Why do you have a camera with you?" you broke the silence after reading for god knows how long. Yet, you are unsure if you picked up anything from it.

He looked up, reaching for the camera bag he brought with him earlier, "It's a new one, my dad brought it to me as a gift."

"For what? Your birthday was like three months ago," you asked even though you already had an answer in your head.

"I helped him with some documents," he replied, knowing that you would say something after.

"Spoiled." you teased him.

"Haters gonna hate," he responded with a sassy roll of his eyes, you laughed. "Anyway, I'm kinda testing it out. So, if you don't mind..."

He placed the camera in front of him, aligning its viewfinder to his left eye. You put the back of your hand under your chin with a tight smile on your lips, posing. Click. A shutter sound and a bright flash followed. You see Jungkook look down at his camera to check the outcome. A small smile forms on his lips.

"You have too many pictures of me," you told him.

Every single time you two are together, he takes a picture of you. You don't really mind even though some shots are candid. Some of the pictures of you he took are the only ones you have on your Instagram. He's good at it, but sometimes, you worry you will get used to being his muse.

"I'm thinking of making an exhibition out of it." he said.

Sensing his sarcasm, you ride on with it, "Yeah, you can title it with something like, The Life Of An Overworked Twenty-Something Student. I looked exhausted in all those photos. An ugly, dry potato."

"I think you look pretty in all of them."

And it didn't help that he complimented you a lot after taking pictures of you. It just scares you that you feel a light feeling in your stomach when you see him smile after taking a shot of you or when he calls you gorgeous or pretty.

But instead of letting the giddy feeling show, you just smiled, "Of course you do, you're sleeping with me. You will always find me attractive."

It was almost an hour later when Jungkook paused the video he was watching on his phone to once again try his camera. A camera nerd, he was watching a clip about his new camera's settings. Of course, he was in his earphones so that he wouldn't get to distract you.

After modifying some parts of the settings, Jungkook placed his camera in front of his right eye, ready to capture another picture of you. But before he could click the button, he noticed your shoulders shaking.

His right eyebrow raised as he slowly put down his camera.

"YN?"

He heard you hiccup before humming, "Hmm?"

"YN, can you look at me?" he asked since you kept your back turned to him.

"Not now, I'm busy." you sobbed, failing to hide from Jungkook.

He frowned, getting up from your bed, "YN, baby..."

"No, I said-"

Before you could continue denying, Jungkook already pulled the swivel chair you were sitting on closer to him. You covered your face with your palms since you hated crying in front of anyone. Jungkook tries to remove it softly but you shake your head.

"Please, let me see your face. It's okay," he whispered while his thumbs drew circles at the back of your hands. Finally, you listened and let him hold down your hands.

"Shh..." he hushed you, wiping the tears on your cheeks. "What's going on? Are you okay? Is there any way that I can help you?"

"I-I cannot remember anything and I'm just so tired." you broke down, feeling the exhaustion from both studying and working finally creeping up in your body.

"Then, take a break. Let's nap." he offered, knowing how much you need it.

You cried even more, "I can't nap. My exams are tomorrow and I can't understand anything I've been reading so far."

He clicked his tongue in disagreement, "I'll wake you up in thirty minutes. How about that?"

While his offer seemed ideal for you, the pressure for what is coming tomorrow is heavily sitting on your shoulders. But you're really tired.

"Just nap?" you asked, making sure that it won't lead to anything else.

"Yeah— Okay, maybe cuddle." he shrugged.

"Okay." I kinda need that.

"Okay. C'mere, my snotty baby." He cooed.

You glared at him before slapping his chest. He laughed, catching your hand and pulling you to him on your bed. You fell on top instead of your mattress, feeling his toned body under you. His chin rests on the top of your head as he draws circles on your lower back.

"Let's do anything you want after your exams," he mumbled.

You exhaled, "Why celebrate? I am not even sure if I can pass it."

"You will. You're the smartest person I know."

This isn't the first time Jungkook saw you broke down over academic reasons. He knew how much you value your studies as someone who has always been an achiever since you began studying. It didn't help that your mom expects quite a lot from you, based on what you told him.

You looked up to meet his eyes, "Thank you."

He simply kissed your forehead, "Of course, babe."

You did find yourself feeling much better after your 30-minute rest. But, you also found something else when you woke five minutes ago next to Jungkook. It's something that can probably help you study.

"Take off your shirt," you whispered as you rested your head on his arm.

"Why?" he asked, suspicious.

"I think you can help me study," you said, sitting up on the bed.

Jungkook sat next to you, "I thought we were just cuddling."

"Jungkook." you called him. "Please, just do it."

"Okay, I will. You know I can't say no when you beg, babe." he teased.

You watched him reach for the back of his shirt and remove it over his head. With how cold your room is, Jungkook immediately crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge before you. You were quiet, squinting your eyes on his arms.

Feeling a little conscious and confused, Jungkook spoke, "It's a little chilly here. What now?"

"Wait, let me get my sticky notes."

"You know, I should be paid for this," Jungkook spoke, covered in neon-colored sticky notes from his neck to his back and arms. "I am like your model."

"You are my 3d model." you laughed while tracing his body with your finger to look where you could stick your next label. "I'm too broke to buy one so just be my friend and let me put some sticky notes on you."

"I'll just buy you one." he offered and he's serious. If it's something that can help you, he'll buy it for you.

"You sound like the spoiled kid you are." you joked.

"I like it when you keep me humble and grounded," he reacted sarcastically. Out of a hundred people he knows on the campus, you are the only one who always reminds him of his privileges. He found it annoying at first but now, he just finds it funny.

"I know, it shows especially when you get all submissive sometimes." you joked again, scrunching your nose at him.

"Why won't you just let me spend money on you?" he asked, recalling the other scenarios he tried buying or doing something for you. But you were quick to decline him, especially if it's connected with money.

You stopped and stared at him, "For the tenth time, Jeon, I will not be your sugar baby."

"Or you can just be my... baby," he whispered, but since you are the only awake people in this house at this time of the day, you still heard that.

Your eyebrows scrunched, looking at him. Visibly cringing at what he said, you pushed his face with a laugh. You hear him chuckle lowly.

"If you want someone to be your baby, you should be asking girls out, not signing up for a friends-with-benefits-type of relationship with me," you mumbled while writing a certain body part on your notepad.

It is part of your agreement that this thing you two have will end once one of you starts dating again. But the idea of him asking girls out after literally sleeping on your bed for the last twelve months still made your heart sink a little. You cannot imagine how your future will be without him, you still haven't thought that far.

"I know..." he whispered. But you're not up for any commitment. He wanted to say that. Instead, he replied, "But you give the best blowjob ever. How can I look for someone else?"

You laughed again. God, he loves making you laugh. It's like a melody playing in his head.

"Yeah, I know. It will be hard to find someone better than me. I'm the best."

Yes, you are. He agreed, almost saying it if you haven't spoke to soon.

"Now, please, can you stop moving? My notes are falling everywhere."

"Hi, I'm Mabel."

It's been days since that night. Now, a blonde, blue-eyed girl offered her hand to Jungkook while he prepared to leave the campus with his car after his basketball training. Jungkook, being polite, introduced himself even though he was not really interested. He continued making sure he got all his stuff in his backpack as the girl continued saying that they had two classes together. When he was done checking, she spoke,

"I think you're really cute and was wondering if we could go out sometime? Maybe we can grab some coffee together?"

Jungkook scratched the back of his head, feeling bad for what he was about to say to this seeming freshman before him. A tight smile forms on his lips. This isn't the first confession he got in his lifetime, but rejecting someone is always hard.

"Wow... uhm... I'm sure you're a really wonderful person, Mabel. But I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now. I'm sorry."

The familiar flustered face instantly showed up on Mabel's face, "Oh, okay. Uhm, thank you for your time. Nice to meet you though."

Jungkook was not even able to reply before she ran away. It didn't took him too long to dwell on that interaction when he got a message from you.

YN 🩺

I PASSED

COME OVER!!!!1!

Jungkook smiled after reading that, feeling your relief and excitement. He typed in a reply before hopping in his car.

JK

I KNEW U CAN DO IT

SO PROUD OF YOUUU

WILL BE THERE IN FIVE ;)

note | scheduled as my first post for 2025 :) thank you so much for reading!

ps. will probably delete this later on

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[felassan]

EuroGamer: 'BioWare knew the deepest secrets of Dragon Age lore 20 years ago, and locked it away in an uber-plot doc'

Original creator David Gaider on how "some of the big mysteries are being solved".

Rest of post under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

"As I write about the secrets hidden in Dragon Age's mysterious Fade, and as I uncover some of them playing Dragon Age: The Veilguard, one question keeps rising up in my mind. How much did BioWare know about future events when first developing the series more than 20 years ago? That's a long time, and back then BioWare didn't know there would be a second game, which is why Dragon Age: Origins has an elaborate and far-reaching epilogue. Why lay so much lore-track ahead of yourself if you don't think you'll ever get there? But look more closely at Origins and there are big clues suggesting BioWare did know about future Dragon Age events. There are obvious signs in the original game, such as establishing recurring themes like Old Gods and the Blight and Archdemons. But there's also Flemeth, Morrigan's witchy mother, who's intimately linked to events in the series now - more specifically: intimately linked to Solas. Does her existence mean Solas was known about back then too? There's only one person I can think of to answer this and it's David Gaider, the original creator of Dragon Age's world and lore. We've talked before, once in a podcast and once for a piece on the magic of fantasy maps, where we discussed the creation of Dragon Age's world. And much to my surprise, when I ask him what he and the BioWare team knew back then, he says they knew it all. "By the time we released Dragon Age: Origins, we were basically sure that it was one and done, but there was, back when we made the world, an overarching plan," he says. "The way I created the world was to seed plots in various parts of the world that could be part of a game, a single game, and then there was the overall uber-plot, which I didn't know for certain that we would ever get to but I had an understanding of how it all worked together. "A lot of that was in my head until we were starting Inquisition and the writers got a little bit impatient with my memory or lack thereof, so they pinned me down and dragged the uber-plot out of me. I'd talked about it, I'd hinted at it, but never really spelled out how it all connected, so they dragged it out of me, we put it into a master lore doc, the secret lore, which we had to hide from most of the team.""

"This uber-plot document was only viewable on a need-to-know basis, he says, and only around 20 people on the team had access to it - other senior writers mostly. And even though Gaider left the Dragon Age team after Inquisition, and then eight years ago BioWare altogether, meaning he didn't work on The Veilguard at all, he believes - by looking at the events in the new game - his uber-plot lore "has more or less held up". That's impressive. What's even more impressive, or exciting, is that back then he also envisaged a potential end state for the entire Dragon Age series - a point at which it would make no sense for the series to carry on. "I always had this dream of where it would all end, the very last plot," he says, "which I won't say because who knows, we could still end up there. But the idea that this uber-plot was this sort of biggest, finite... That the final thing you could do in this world that would break it was there as a 'maybe we would get to do that one day'... There was just the idea of certain big, world-shaking things that were seeded in that arc, some of which have already come to pass, like the return of Fen'Harel." You've read that correctly: the idea to have Fen'Harel, also known as the Dread Wolf, reappear, was seeded all the way back then, way before Inquisition - the game in which he does actually reappear. But the concept for Solas, as a character who was Fen'Harel in disguise, was a newer idea. "That spawned from a conversation I had with Patrick [Weekes] and a number of other writers," Gaider says, "as an idea of 'what if you had a villain that spent an entire game where he's actually in the party and you get to know him?' Now, the god version and his larger role in the plot, yes that was known, but not that he would be presented as a character named Solas." Fen'Harel being known about means the other elven gods were known about, which means all of that stuff Solas reveals about his godly siblings - that they're not gods at all but evil elven mages he locked away behind the Veil - was known about back then too. "Oh yeah," Gaider says. "Everything that Solas tells you [at the end of Inquisition DLC, Trespasser]: it's all part of that original uber-lore - that was all in our mind." But why have so much lore if you're not certain you'll get to ever realise it? Well, to create a believable illusion. By creating an "excess" of lore, as Gaider describes it, Origins made Thedas feel like an old and believable place. A place with history, rather than a Western set that was all facade and no substance."

"BioWare also did something canny with the lore it did relay then, too: it shared it through the voices of characters living in the world, making it inherently fallible. In doing this, Dragon Age veiled its truths behind biases. The church-like organisation of the Chantry proclaims one truth, while the elves and dwarves proclaim another. Sidenote: you can experience this yourself through different racial origin stories in Dragon Age: Origins. This way, there's no one, objective, irrefutable, truth. "To get the truth, you kind of have to pick between the lines," Gaider says. So even though elven legends are coming true through the existence of Solas and The Veilguard's antagonist gods, it doesn't mean that's the one and only truth. There's truth in what the Chantry teaches and what the dwarves say, he tells me, which ignites my curiosity intensely. BioWare has also been tricksy in how it's rubbed out the lore the further back in time you go. "In general, the further the history goes back, we always would purposefully obfuscate it more and more," Gaider says - "make it more biased and more untrue no matter who was talking, just so that the absolute truth was rarely knowable. I like that idea from a world standpoint, that the player always has to wonder and bring their own beliefs to it." It leads into a founding principle of Dragon Age, which is doubt - because without it, you can't have faith, a particularly important concept in the series. It's where the whole idea of the Chantry's Maker comes from and with it, the legend about the fabled Golden City - now the Black City - at the heart of the Fade. This is the very centre of the lore web, and, I imagine, it's close to the series endpoint Gaider imagined long ago. All secrets end there. Did Gaider know what was in the Black City when he laid down Origins' lore? That's the question - and it startles me how casually he answers this. "Oh, yeah," he says. "What was in the Black City: that's the uber-plot. I knew exactly. "Was it as detailed in the first draft of the world?" he goes on. "No. I had an idea of the early history because that's where I started making the world. So the things that were true early-early: I knew exactly what the Black City was and the idea of what the elves believed, and what humans believed vis-a-vis the Chantry - that was all settled on really early. Then I expanded the world and the uber-plot bubbled out of that.""

"Gaider shows me the original cosmology design document for Dragon Age: Origins as if to prove this - or rather for the game that would become DAO. The world was known as Peldea back then. I can't share this with you because I see it via a shared screen on a video call, and because Gaider doesn't want me to, mostly because the ideas are so old they're almost unrecognisable from what's in the series now. But I can tell you it's a document that's just over a page in length, and that there's a circular diagram at the top showing the world in the middle and the spirit realm ringed around it. And on that document is reference to the Chantry's beliefs about a God located in a citadel that can be found there. Gaider says BioWare knew about Fen'Harel (the Dread Wolf) 20 years ago when it was developing Dragon Age: Origins, and that he'd one day reappear. The Fade wasn't known as the Fade back then, either, but as the Dreaming, because it's the place people go when they dream - an idea that lives on still. And if that sounds familiar to any fans of The Sandman among you, it should. "I'd say The Sandman series was probably fairly prominently in my head," says Gaider. "I liked that amorphous geography that was born from the psyche of collective humanity. I'd say yes, if I was to point at something specifically, that's probably where the very first inspiration of it took root." It's a lot to take in, but it reinforces the admiration I have for Dragon Age. Just as I have when hearing about the creation of my other favourite fantasy worlds, such as A Song of Ice and Fire, I begin to understand the magnitude - and the deliberateness - of the plotting that went on. I wonder if one day the Dragon Age series will end in the way Gaider first imagined, albeit slightly altered by the many other pairs of hands shepherding it along now. What a curious feeling it must be to know, so many years in advance, where things might go. Where that end is, I don't know, but I do know we'll take a significant step towards it in The Veilguard. After all, we're coming into contact with gods who were there at the recorded beginning of it all. "Yeah - we have access to people who can tell us the truth from first-hand experience," Gaider says, "although again, it depends on what the writers did with it. But if they continued the tradition of Dragon Age, you never know for sure if Solas is telling you everything, or what you're learning is the entire truth. "But yes, some of the big mysteries are being solved. I mean, will they one day definitively tell you about the Maker? Will we crack the big mysteries of the world and just make them answered finally? And does that ruin one of the central precepts that Dragon Age is founded upon? Maybe," he says. "Ultimately, that lore, when you make it big and you hint at it and hint at it and hint at it, it becomes a Chekhov's Gun of sorts. Eventually you got to pony up.""

[source]

[ramp-it-up]

All I Know It Feels So Damn Good

Summary: James Bucky Barnes was an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Bucky gives you anything you want. Anything.

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes After ...As Hard As I Did but BEFORE Dessert or Disaster, but it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is porn with some plot. GNO tipsy texting returns, Dom/sub elements, phone sex, talk of raw p in v, description of sex with condom, Bucky being fluffy while filthy, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation kink, talk of face slapping, talk of finger f*cking, talk of oral sex, praise kink, breeding kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Actual raw p in v, lactation kink if you squint, nipple worship if you squint, belly bulge, non-existent refractory period. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

It was your first Girl’s Night Out as Bucky’s girl. You’d texted him tipsy messages all night, teasing him with your selfies and requests of the same from him.

Your flirty banter was all fun and games until your received a terse, ‘Call me when you get home’ voice memo. 

You don’t know why six little words got you all worked up, but there was a delicious feeling of anticipation in your stomach until you settled into bed after you showered and dialed Bucky. 

For the short time you’d been intimate, you’d sensed that he was holding back something darker, more forceful and to think of it didn’t scare you.

It only served to get you so incredibly hot. Something inside you wanted to push his buttons.

Maybe it was that, and not the champagne, that impelled you to text him what you had earlier.

Bucky was on his couch, staring at the Manhattan skyline and waiting for your call. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello, Frumoasă. Did you have fun tonight?”

His question seemed innocuous enough. Bucky listened as you recounted the drama and escapades of the night with your girls. 

You asked him how his evening with Steve and Sam was and he replied shortly, “Fine. Until I got distracted.”

Then he got to the point.

“Now. Let’s talk about the text you sent me earlier. Run that back for me? What is it that you want to do while I do what to you now?”

The way he slid into confronting you was savage. You weren’t expecting it and now you didn’t want to say it out loud.

Had you crossed the line, you wondered?

Your silence made Bucky smile. He knew he had you flustered, having learned your tells already. You were about to be in the mood he wanted you in; he just needed to push a little further.

“Cat got that talented tongue, baby? Tell me what you said. Or are you only a whore over texts?”

The coldness in Bucky’s tone made you whimper. And wet.

“James…”

Bucky’s cock swelled. He was ten seconds from jumping into his car and showing up at your door. Instead of that, Bucky decided to be patient.

But clear.

“Tell me.”

“I said…I said that I wanted to suck your fingers while you fuck me raw.”

Bucky grunted to cover his moan. You being his shy little slut was so hot.

“Hmmmm. What made my sweet girl think such whore thoughts? Was it the picture that you requested and I sent?”

You shuddered as you ran your fingertips along your belly, playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your nipples were stiff peaks, poking through your thin sleep shirt, which was one of his white tees. 

The fine cotton fabric felt so good against your skin and his scent lingered on the surface. These sensations, along with the knowledge that the shirt, and you, belonged to Bucky sent your fingers further.

“Thank you for the picture, Daddy.”

Bucky clenched his jaw at the moniker. He couldn’t deny you a thing. Even when he was out to dinner with his boys, he would send you a bathroom selfie if you asked. He hadn’t expected the response, however.

You’d only been together for a couple of weeks, and he’d religiously used protection, even after you’d both gotten tested the week after you got together. Despite your clean bills of health, Bucky never pushed to not use protection. He didn’t try to change your mind, he was just happy to be in the room.

In fact, Bucky loved using condoms with you. 

The way you rolled it on him always made him about to bust. The sight of your small fingers on him when you both were past the point of desperation drove him insane with romantic thoughts.

Your tiny hands rolling the rubber on him made him feel like you were his queen and he your knight. And he would vanquish any foe for you. His holy grail was your precious pussy, and if you wanted to use condoms, he was your humble servant. 

But of course, he dreamed of fucking you raw. How could he not with the way your juicy pussy sucked his digits in when he fucked you with his fingers, and the warm wet feel of you when his tongue penetrated your core?

You’d discussed birth control and you had additional methods, but when he snuck a peek of the ring in his closet, he allowed himself to fantasize about making you pregnant.The images got him so hard and yet he restrained himself.

But now that you opened the door, he could let his fantasies run wild. And dare to hope.

“Tell me more, Frumoasă.”

“Well… your fingers in the picture got me hot. You look so fucking Daddy, your eyes, your hair, which I love a little longer by the way, the grey in your beard. Those lips. But those fingers holding that ratty ass phone…”

You giggled until Bucky spoke again.

“As long as I can talk to you and get those kinds of messages, I don’t need a new one. But do go on…”

You melted at his sentiment. How did you get a man that was so open with his feelings?

“Those fingers, mmmm, they are magic. Make me wanna be a slut for for them, for you, James.”

You heard Bucky moving on his end of the line. You guessed at what he was doing.

“What are you doing, Jamie? Are you touching your cock?”

You bit your finger as you listen to him moving.

“Do you know that I daydream about that beautiful dick of yours?”

A groan was all that you received in response.

“Ever have a goal, James? Sucking your cock is mine. It’s so big. Love to get on my knees and swallow you down. Makes me feel accomplished. Ya know?”

“Holy shit, Y/N…”

“I want to feel it without a condom. I- I just think it will feel so good. Don’t you?”

As he thought of what you would feel like as he sank into you, skin to skin, a shiver ran up his spine.

“You know that I give you anything you ask for. Your soft, wet pussy would feel so warm and so good wrapped around me, Y/N. Are you sure you want that?”

You felt an enormous sense of power, and you had a feeling that Bucky was letting you have your way. For now. You took full advantage.

“You know that vein that runs around your shaft  to the tip?”

Bucky was tracing that very vein with his fingers.

“You mean the one that you love to rub those sweet lips on? The one that your wicked tongue traces to my fat head for your sweet little mouth to suck?”

You gasped at Bucky’s lewd language. You were soaking your panties and you moved to take them off. This conversation was the shit.

“Is that what you want to get on your knees for? To try to make me your slave to your slutty mouth?”

“Yes, Daddy just thinking about it makes me wanna cum.”

Bucky’s ears perked up at your breathless voice. He knew that you were touching yourself.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ummmhmmm.”

“Cum for me now, Frumoasă.”

You moaned and rubbed furious circles around your clit. Your arousal was evident in the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs

“Is that my wet pussy I hear, Baby? How did that happen? Are you that much of a slut?” 

“Th-thinking about you, Daddy. Always a slut for you,” you keened in response.

“What exactly are you thinking about me? Fă ce spun eu frumos.”

You caught Bucky’s tone, and also the hitch in his voice. He was as close as you were.

“Yes, Daddy. ‘M thinking about your fingers inside me. Your cock. How big it is. The way you handle me. The way you talk to me. How you make me feel nasty and angelic all at the same damn time.” 

“Good girl. Now. Make sure that you fuck your fingers into that sweet cunt.”

You moaned as you obeyed. 

 “Oh. Fuck!” 

“There’s my good little whore. I should slap your fucking face for being so dirty. ” 

You gasped, then thrilled.

“Ooooohhhh, Daddy!” 

You were breathless and Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest. You liked degradation. Really liked it. He took note.

“‘M so wet for you, Jamie.”

“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you won’t be able to run from my cock when I fuck all of your fucking holes raw. Gonna leave my cum dripping out of everywhere.” 

You gasped, fingers flying over your clit. 

“Daddy…”

“But what if you get pregnant?”

You cried out. 

“Godamn it, Frumoasă. That belly swollen because I fucked my cum into you. Full of my… fuck… full of my baby. Those tits gushing milk every time I fuck you…”

“Oh yes. Make me a Mommy!”

“You’ll be mine, Frumoasă. In every single way imaginable.” 

“Oh oh oooooooooh!”

Your pussy spasmed under your fingers as his words pushed you over the edge.

“Don’t fucking stop rubbing that clit until I say so.”

He was so mean. You squeezed your thighs around your wrist, but did as he said.

“NNnnnghhh, Daddy… please!”

You continued stroking your oversensitive clit until you heard your name through the fog.

“Take your hand away..”

You gladly obeyed, gasping in order to take in oxygen. Your head was spinning and there was a giant smile on your face. 

“Holy shit. That was…”

Bucky’s low chuckle made you giggle. You heard movement over the phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Made a mess all over my shirt. Taking it off.”

Your pussy pulsed again at what he said.

“You can’t say things like that when I’m still pounding, Daddy…” you whimpered.

“Poor Y/N, can’t handle the things she starts.”

You laughed and then stopped abruptly.

“You better be glad that you’re not here right now. I’d knock you the fuck out.”

“Big talk. Little girl.”

“Try me, Mr. Barnes.”

He couldn’t resist you and he couldn’t stay away. So he gave up trying.

“Brat. Be there in 30 minutes. Be ready to put your money where your mouth is. I’d like to see you live up to your threat, Baby.”

“Oh I’m ready, James. Leave the condoms at home.”

—-

45 minutes later, Bucky was sinking into your wet heat, eyes rolling back into his head. He was inside in one long stroke, burying himself in your wetness with a fair amount of stretch.  He was huge. But he’d made you so wet.

You quivered around him, sensitive to every twitch of his dick, and he wasn’t even moving yet.

“Who do you belong to, Frumoasă?” 

“You,” you moaned, not even hesitating. 

Bucky flexed his hips, opening you with controlled thrusts. Almost immediately, you were close. His fingers covered your throat, cradling your jaw, and a thumb pushed between your lips. You sucked it eagerly as he lifted one ankle next to your ear.

Blucky’s searing eyes met yours. His black pupils took over the blue as he took in your open mouth and fucked out expression. 

He pulled you up to kiss you on the lips.

“God, you feel like heaven. So unbelievably hot and silky. And soft.”

You clenched around him at his words of praise. You were spiraling at how hard and good and electric every ridge and vein on Bucky’s cock felt inside you. He filled you up so good and now you were addicted.

It wasn’t fair. 

You pouted at him, then put your hand on the bulge he was creating in your belly.

“Feels so fucking good, Daddy. So good. So big.”

His mouth turned up into a half grin as he looked down and put his hand over yours.

“Gonna fucking fill you up.”

He started moving, slowly, gently at first, building to a crescendo the more you moaned and cried. He was hypnotized by your bouncing breasts and your tiny stiff mountain peaks. When his mouth closed over your tight, puckered nipple, you let out a scream. 

Bucky grabbed your ass and smacked it, causing you to clamp down immediately. He gazed at you, eyebrow raised at your reaction. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, but he stopped, grabbed your hair and made you look at him. He paused, balls deep inside you.

You breathed out his name.

“...James…”

Your desperation almost made him come on the spot, and you could feel him pounding inside you. The truth was, he needed a little break so this could last.

The way your pussy was sucking his dick was insane.

“D’you feel how soaked you are?” he crooned, gripping your windpipe again.

“You need this so badly, don’t you? Go on, Frumoasă. It’s not so hard. I know you want to beg me for it. You like being a little whore..” 

You sucked in a breath, remaining silent as you stared at him insolently. His grip tightened. 

“Say it. You love being my cumslut.”

His voice was on the edge of control. It was everything.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, Pleaseee…”

Bucky started moving again and you realized how sensitive to him you were. You clutched the sheets as he lengthened his strokes.

 “Fuuuuuck,” you gasped. 

Bucky leaned down to kiss you as your sweat combined with your slick and soaked both your bodies. His hips were moving relentlessly, his cock lighting up every nerve ending inside your tight channel. You squeezed him deliciously.

Bucky’s thumb was lighting up your clit and you were running headlong toward that cliff. He growled into your mouth as you tightened around him in a rush of pleasure.

As you neared your peak, your pussy pulsed erratically and you sparked around him like a firework. When you cried out, he spoke again, his hand around your throat with his thumb, (coated with the essence of you) inserted again into your mouth.

 “Look at you, baby,” he said, low and heated.

“You’re gonna cum so hard, and just the way I want you to. Around my naked cock. Gonna give you all this cum.”

He whispered it into your ear.

“Oh God, I’m cuming.” 

“You better hope none of my little soldiers make it past your birth control, little girl.”

You shrieked around his digit, shuddering as one wave after another crashed over your body. Bucky’s cock jerked inside you and he choked on air.

“Oh Goddddd!”

Bucky’s low, deep moan made you shudder around him again as he sped up, unable to contain the feeling that rushed down his spine when you came. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck FUCKKKKKKKK!”

Bucky pounded you out as you came with him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing, as he kissed and licked your sweat filled neck. Then, he rolled off of you and put his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving beside you. 

You curled up next to him and practically purred as you traced his tattooed sleeve.

“Told you I’d knock you out old man. Too bad you have to go to work tomorrow. How are you ever gonna do it when you’re so worn out? I feel like this pussy was worth it tho.”

Bucky moved his arm and opened one eye at you, a scowl on his face. Then he smiled. The brat in you turned him the fuck on. He turned toward you and traced his fingers along your side, caressing your curves like a feather. His voice was the gentlest whisper.

“Wonder how you’re gonna work tomorrow when you can’t walk, Y/N?”

You felt his dick awaken and gasped as you looked down. Bucky slapped your ass as he stood up to go to the foot of the bed, stroking his cock.

“Turn the fuck over. I’ll show you an old man.”

“We’ll see who is gonna knock out who first tonight. Give me that fucking arch.”

You smiled as your face was pressed into the comforter.

----

Reblog if you liked it! :)

Next part here.

[ffxivtranslations]

Why did Haurchefant have to die? Interview Translation

I translated part of an interview with Yoshi-P and the two main scenario writers of HW, Ishikawa and Oda. It's about Haurchefant's character arc and why he had to be sacrificed. At least Oda tried to save him, bless his heart!

Interviewer: In 2.x, Haurchefant appeared to be a cheerful character, but in 3.0 his role takes a serious turn. What was the reason for this change?

Ishikawa: In the 2.x series I was in charge of his dialogue as the Character Concept designer, but in 2.55 I felt I had properly written down his important points and position in society, so I could hand him over to Oda and Maehiro for 3.0. Because of this I don’t think anything changed about him from the start; how he cares about his friend, or his essence as a knight.

Oda: I agonised over Haurchefant’s fate right until the very end… over and over I suggested plots in which he might somehow survive.

Yoshi-P: Those plots were too contrived; I couldn’t approve them! LOL In depicting this war between humans and dragons, I thought it was wrong to only have the dragons’ side experience loss after loss and not have the humans make any sacrifices. So that’s why I told them to properly decide the fate of every character. The fate of every character should have been decided early in the development phase of Patch 2.3. So Haurchefant’s fate was decided by then too, right?

Oda: Yes, that’s right. That’s why in Patch 2.4 and 2.5, when I wrote all his un-voiced lines, I was already doing so conscious of the fact that he would die later on.

Yoshi-P: Haurchefant is a character that is not just loved by players, but also loved by the development team. But since we decided on the plot twist where he would become the Warrior of Light's shield, we were prepared for the worst. Because of that we were able to write the Patch 2.5 scene, in the Falling Snows, where he reaches out to the Warrior of Light in his time of need. I think that such a long build-up led to the deep emotional impact of Haurchefant’s final moments. In that way, I think the deciding his fate early on was connected to how much importance he had to the story.

Oda: However, seeing how warmly players reacted to him, I feared that having Haurchefant lose his life would cause some players to quit the game forever, and fought desperately against it to the end…

Yoshi-P: He kept giving me re-takes of the plot where Haurchefant is able to come back to life, and eventually I remember getting quite mad at him. At one point, the 3.0 ending ceremony scene had Haurchefant appear in a wheelchair and I yelled “Hey, isn’t that the same as Thancred in ARR?!”. I’m pretty sure I shouted at him LOL

[d1stalker]

The Feeling's Mutual | Part Three

Summary: At last, you're about to face whatever—or whoever—is behind all this chaos, but what you uncover will haunt you, and Logan's connection to it makes you realize that you’re only a piece in someone else’s game

PART ONE | PART TWO | FINAL PART

Warnings: canon-level violence, manipulation, soft moments, plot-twist WC: 7.9k - MASTERLIST

----

Well, this is it. 

The day you and Logan have decided on to investigate the location has come. Standing side-by-side, you both peer down at the old rusted metal grate beneath your feet. It creaks ominously under your combined weight, the sound echoing through the empty lot. 

You can’t help the grimace that crosses your face as you take a step closer to the edge. "Please tell me this isn’t a sewer," you mutter, the disgust in your voice impossible to hide.

Logan shoots you a sideways glance, his expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Not a sewer," he grumbles. "And even if it was, we got a job to do. Now shut up and focus."

"Just saying," you mumble under your breath, rolling your eyes. "If we're about to wade through god-knows-what, I might need a minute to mentally prepare."

Your remark is ignored as he crouches down to grip the edge of the grate. With a grunt of effort, he lifts it up, revealing a gaping hole that descends into darkness. A musty, stale smell wafts up from below, and you can’t help but wrinkle your nose in distaste. Already securing the grate to the side so it won’t fall back into place, he straightens up and gives you a pointed look.  "You ready?".

"Yeah," you reply, bracing yourself, and trying to sound more confident than you feel. "Let’s get this over with."

Logan gives a short nod before pulling out a flashlight from his belt, clicking it on. The beam of light cuts through the darkness below, revealing a rusty ladder bolted to the side of the tunnel. The metal rungs look old and worn, covered in grime and dust, but they seem sturdy enough. Without hesitation, hesteps forward, testing the ladder with one hand before starting his descent.

You watch as he climbs down. The tunnel seems to swallow him whole, and soon all you can see is the faint glow of his flashlight moving deeper into the darkness.

"Come on," his voice echoes up from below, gruff but encouraging.

You take one last look at the dim, overcast sky above before gripping the cold metal of the ladder and starting down after him. The further you descend, the colder and damper the air becomes, clinging to your skin like a shroud. The sound of your own breathing is unnervingly loud in the confined space, and the occasional drip of water from above only adds to the uncanny atmosphere.

As your feet finally touch solid ground, you let out a small breath of relief, but the oppressive darkness around you quickly snuffs out any sense of comfort. The tunnel is narrow, the walls slick with moisture, and the air smells of damp earth and rusted metal.

Logan’s flashlight beam cuts through the abyss, revealing a long, empty passageway stretching out before you. The walls are lined with old pipes and cables, some of which look like they haven’t been used in decades. The faint hum of electricity buzzes in the background, the only sign that this place might still be connected to the world above.

"Isn’t this just cozy," you say sarcastically, as you click on your own flashlight, adding a second beam of light to murky gloom.

He shoots you a look, like he’s trying to keep you calm. "Ain’t nobody enjoyin’ this," he says. "But we’ve got to check it out. Could be nothin’, or it could be somethin’ we need to deal with."

You hum, forcing yourself to focus. The truth is, you have no idea what’s down there—whether it’s just an abandoned tunnel or something more sinister. That uncertainty gnaws at you, making each step feel heavier than the last. You remind yourself that Logan wouldn’t be here if he didn’t think it was important. He’s got a sense for these things, a gut feeling that’s saved both your asses more than once.

"Stay sharp," he says, his voice a low rumble. "There could be traps set up, or worse—mutants under control waitin' for us."

The tunnel seems to go on forever, each step echoing back to you like a warning. The beam of your flashlight dances across the uneven floor, picking out old, broken pipes, patches of moss, and the occasional rat scurrying away into the darkness. The air gets cooler the further you go, the damp chill seeping into your bones.

"How far do you think this goes?" you whisper.

"Hard to say," he replies, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "But we’ll know when we’re gettin’ close. Trust me."

Even though you can’t see in the dark,you nod. The two of you move cautiously down the tunnel, the only light coming from your flashlights. Every creak, every drip, every distant clank of metal sets your nerves on edge. It’s all so oppressive, as if the walls themselves are closing in on you, the weight of the earth pressing down from above.

"Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light, but you feel genuine fear.

Logan doesn’t miss a beat. "All the damn time," he grunts, his eyes flicking to every shadow, every dark corner. "Keep your head in the game, Knifey. We ain’t alone down here."

His steps slow ahead as you approach a corner where the tunnel bends sharply to the left. He holds up a hand, signaling you to stop as he slowly walks forward, checking to see if there is anything hiding. You freeze in place, your heart pounding in your ears as you listen. For a moment, the only sounds are the steady drip of water and the faint rustling of something—probably a rat—somewhere in the dark.

When you round the bend, the passage suddenly opens up into a larger chamber, the walls lined with more old, rusted equipment. The floor is uneven, slick with dampness, and the space feels almost too large, as if it’s swallowing the sound of your footsteps entirely.

"Feels like a setup," you whisper, your eyes darting around the chamber.

He hums grimly, his senses on high alert. "We’ll move fast, hit hard if we need to."

You both move cautiously into the center of the chamber, your flashlights sweeping the room. The emptiness is unsettling, the silence even more so. There’s no sign of life, no indication that anyone—or anything—has been here recently.

Then, in the far corner of the room, your flashlight catches something—a small metal door, half hidden behind a stack of old crates. It’s slightly ajar, just enough to let a sliver of darkness leak through.

"That’s gotta be it," you say.

"Stay behind me," he orders.

Nodding, you follow close as he approaches the door. The tension is palpable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware. The closer you get, the more you can feel it—the oppressive presence that seems to emanate from behind that door, like a thick, invisible fog.

He reaches out, pushing the door open with a creak that echoes through the chamber. The darkness inside is absolute, swallowing the beam of your flashlights like a black hole. You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your instincts screaming at you that something isn’t right.

The room beyond is large and dimly lit, the walls lined with screens displaying endless streams of data, numbers, and images flashing by in rapid succession. In the center of the room, a figure stands with their back to you, seemingly engrossed in their work.

As Logan steps forward, you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, a stiffness that mirrors your own. His body is coiled tight, muscles flexing beneath his skin, ready to spring into action at any moment. His claws slide out slowly, gleaming dangerously in the low light. With a menacing growl, he commands, "Turn around."

The figure doesn’t react immediately, their movements unhurried, almost casual. Then, slowly, they turn to face you, and the shadows reveal a woman with sharp, severe features. Her eyes are frosty, cunning, but there’s a glint of satisfaction in them that sends a shiver down your spine. When her eyes settle on the man next to you, a cruel smile spreads across her lips. 

"Hello, Wolverine," she purrs, her voice dripping with venom. There’s a twisted pleasure in the way she speaks his name, as if savouring every syllable.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and something something haunting and painful crosses his face. "Shadowmind," he spits, full of contempt and hatred. The name rolls off his tongue like a curse, heavy with the weight of what must be their shared history.

Your gaze snaps to him, practically breaking your neck as you turn your head. Your heart pounding in your chest, and you can feel the tension in the room thickening, almost suffocating. "You know her?" you whisper, desperate for understanding.

He nods, though his eyes never leave the woman, the intensity of his gaze enough to burn through steel. "Yeah," he mutters. "She was one of the experiments in Weapon X. Thought I killed her."

Shadowmind’s smile widens, her features gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You almost did," she replies bitterly, her tone laced with fury and twisted pride. "But you didn’t quite finish the job, did you, Wolvie? You left me broken, traumatized… but not dead. And now, I’m going to make sure you regret that."

His claws twitch, his hands flexing with the barely contained fury boiling just beneath the surface. "So all of this—sending those mutants after humans, after us—it was all to get to me?"

She nods slowly, the smile never fading from her lips as her gaze shifts to you, her eyes raking over you like a predatory its prey. "At first, yes," she confesses, almost conversationally, as if they’re discussing the weather. "I wanted to draw you out, make you suffer. I thought having mutants wreak havoc on people would get your attention. But then…" She trails off, her eyes lighting up with a twisted joy as a manic cackle bursts from her throat, bouncing off the walls of the chamber. "Then she fought back and killed them! Your little friend here is a mutant—and a powerful one. She made my job so much easier.”

You felt like you had just been bitch-slapped by the biggest bitch of all time. All of the attacks, all of the deaths—they weren’t just random acts of violence. Yes, you acted in self defence, but you didn’t know they were being controlled. You didn’t know that you were a mutant. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have killed them. Guilt starts crawling up your throat—you might throw up. 

"You twisted them," Logan seethes dangerously, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. His eyes burn with a rage that’s barely held in check, the kind of anger that promises violence. "You twisted those mutants’ minds just to get at me. Made them your fucking pawns.”

Shadowmind shrugs, the gesture so nonchalant it scares you. "I did what I had to," she says cooly, while bringing her hand up to her face as she looks at her nails. "You took everything from me, Wolvie. My life, my sanity… now it’s time for you to lose something."

Then, you scream.

It’s a raw, painful sound that scratches your throat as it crawls up and out of your mouth. Your mind feels like it is being split in two, the agony so intense that you can’t even think. Your hands fly to your head, clutching it as if you can physically hold yourself together. The flashlight slips from your fingers, clattering to the ground with a hollow, clanking sound that echoes in the room. Your vision blurs, the world around you spinning as you struggle to stay upright.

Logan’s head whips toward yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something in his eyes you’ve never seen before—terror. Pure, unfiltered terror etched into his features, cutting through the usual stoic mask he wears. "Fight it!" he shouts, his voice sharp, urgent, but it feels distant, like he’s speaking from the end of a long tunnel. "Don’t let her take control!"

You try to obey, to resist the overwhelming force pressing down on your mind, but it’s like trying to swim against a riptide. Your limbs betray you, moving without your consent, and you can only feel horror wash over you as your hand reaches for the blade hidden in the side of your boot. Your fingers close around the hilt, the metal cold and familiar, but the ease with which you lift it feels wrong—alien.

"Logan, I—" You choke out, desperately trying to warn him, but the words come out strangled, distorted by the crushing weight of Shadowmind’s influence. The connection between your mind and body is fraying, slipping away.

Then it happens. Her grip tightens around your consciousness, squeezing until everything goes black. The world around you dissolves into a dark, endless void where the only sound is the incessant whispering of voices, all chanting the same sinister command: Kill him. Destroy him. Hurt him.

You can’t think. You can’t see. It’s like you’re drowning in a sea of dark, suffocating orders, your own thoughts buried beneath the onslaught of the woman’s will. The weapon in your hand feels heavy, but it’s not your hand anymore—it’s hers. Your body is no longer your own.

"Fight it!" A voice tries to cut through the fog, but it’s distant, muffled, like he’s shouting at you from underwater. It’s too far away, too weak compared to the relentless chorus in your head. Kill. Hurt. Destroy.

Without conscious thought, your body moves. The lava-like energy surges through your veins, your hands glowing an intense, fiery orange, the heat building until it feels like you just stuck your hand in a volcano. You lunge at Logan, the blade slashing through the air with a ferocity that isn’t yours.

He barely dodges the strike, his claws moving as he counters your attack. "Push back, don’t let her in!" he yells desperately as he blocks another of your strikes, the force behind it sending him staggering back a few metrs. But you can’t hear him—not really.

Your powers flare uncontrollably, the heat in your hands intensifying until it feels like your skin is about to burst into flames. A scream that’s more Shadowmind’s than your own tears from your throat, and you swing your fist. The molten energy collides with his claws, heating through the adamantium like it’s nothing. He grunts in pain but doesn’t back down. Instead, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you out of the mental prison you’re trapped in.

"Come on, Knifey! I know you’re in there!" His voice is fervent, pleading. 

"Poor little Wolverine. Can’t even protect your little friend?” Shadowmind’s tyrannical laughter echoes through your thoughts. “She’s mine now. You can’t save her. Just like you couldn’t kill me.”

He grits his teeth, his muscles straining, hands melting, as he tries to hold back the power surging through you. But the voices won’t let you stop. They won’t let you think. You’re just a puppet on strings, forced to do this woman’s bidding. You lash out with your other hand, the blade slicing across Logan’s side, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but refuses to let go, his grip on your wrist tightening as he tries to bring you back to yourself.

"I know you can break free!" Logan shouts, his voice cracking with emotion. "You’re stronger than her!"

Shadowmind’s grip is ironclad, her control absolute. The whispering in your head grow louder, more frantic. Kill him. Hurt him. Finish him. You wrench your arm free from Logan’s grasp and drive your fist into his stomach, pushing him back against the wall.

He stumbles but doesn’t fall. He fights back with everything he has, his claws slashing through the air as he tries to subdue you without killing you. It’s no use—neither of you can die, and she knows it. She’s watching the two of you tear each other apart, a smile on her lips like she’s enjoying a show.

"You can’t stop it, Logan," She taunts. “You’re just delaying the inevitable."

His eyes flash in desperation as he roars in frustration, dodging another one of your attacks before grabbing you by the shoulders. "Fight it, damn it! " he shouts, shaking you. "Don’t let her win!"

But you just can’t. It’s impossible. The sounds—the whispers—block out everything, leaving you with nothing but the burning need to obey. You slam your fist into the clawed mutant’s side again.

"Come back to me!" he yells. "Come back to me!"

To shut him up, your hands grab him by the back of the neck and, with all your strength, you slam his head against the concrete wall. The impact is sickening, the sound of bone hitting stone reverberating through the chamber.

Logan’s body goes limp, his grip on your shoulders loosening as he crumples to the ground, unconscious. The voices suddenly go silent, the mental chains around your mind shattering as Shadowmind’s control slips away.

You blink, disoriented, the world around you coming back into focus. Your hands are still glowing with that flowing energy, your heart racing as the realization of what you’ve done sinks in. You look down at your friend’s motionless form, horror flooding your veins.

"What… what did you make me do?" you whisper, your voice trembling as you take a step back, staring at your hands as if they belong to someone else.

Shadowmind laughs, the sound cold and mocking. "You did exactly what I wanted you to do," she says sweetly, sickeningly sweet. "You proved that no matter how strong you think you are, I can break you. Both of you."

You shake your head. "This isn’t over," you say, anger and fear dowsing you. "We’ll come for you. We’ll end this."

Her smile widens, a dark, knowing look in her eyes. "Oh, I’m counting on it," she says softly, almost affectionately in its cruelty. "But for now, I think I’ll let you live with what you’ve done. After all, the real torture comes from the inside, doesn’t it?"

She waves a hand dismissively, and the remnants of the mental pressure that had been suffocating you vanishes completely. The sudden release makes you lurch forward, your knees nearly buckling as the full weight of your actions crashes down on you. The chamber feels like it's closing in, it’s hard to breathe as you watch Shadowmind step back toward the console, her gaze lingering on Logan’s unconscious form with a sense of triumph

"I’ll be waiting, Wolverine," she says. "And next time, I’ll make sure you both suffer."

With that, she melts into the shadows, disappearing like a phantom, leaving you alone in the silent chamber with Logan’s still form. The only sound that breaks the quiet is your ragged breathing, the pounding of your heart a deafening roar in your ears.

You drop to your knees beside him, your hands trembling violently as you reach out to touch him, your fingers hesitating, afraid of what you’ll find. Relief floods through you when you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his breaths shallow but present. But the sight of the blood trickling down from where wound would have been on his head—where you slammed him against the wall—makes your stomach churn with guilt.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, your voice cracking as tears blur your vision. "I’m so sorry, Logan…"

He doesn’t respond, his face pale and still. For what feels like an eternity, you just sit there, cradling his head in your lap, your fingers brushing through his hair, now matted with blood. 

----

After a few more minutes, and with trembling hands, you manage to lift Logan’s unconscious form, his body limp in your arms, and haul him onto your back. Thanks to your mutant strength, he’s not heavy—physically, you can carry him with ease—but the emotional weight of it, the burden of what you’ve done, makes him feel like he weighs a thousand pounds.

The Wolverine, silent and motionless—it’s something you’ve never seen before, and it’s terrifying.

The tunnel is dark and seemingly endless as you make your way back, every step feeling like a battle against the overwhelming tide of despair threatening to pull you under. Tears stream down your face, silent and unchecked, as you hold onto him, his head resting against your shoulder. 

Eventually, you reach the van, the sight of it a small beacon in the abyss. With great care, you lower his body into the back, laying him down as gently as you can. His face is still so pale, his breaths too shallow, and the sight makes you feel worse. 

You climb into the van beside him, your hands trembling as you search for something to wipe away the blood. Once you find a cloth, you gently stroke his face. The only response is the rhythmic sound of his breathing, and the silence that fills the van is suffocating. You lean over him, your forehead resting against his as tears continue to spill from your eyes. "I’ll fix this," you vow. "I’ll find a way to fix this… I promise."

----

The drive back to the warehouse is a blur. Logan doesn’t stir, not even when the van hits a rough patch of road. Not even when you make a shitty turn. You keep glancing back at him, hoping to see those familiar eyes staring back at you, but there’s nothing. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When you finally arrive at the warehouse, you just sit there, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white. Then you move.

You slowly slide Logan out of the van, his weight heavy against you as you half-drag, half-carry him toward the bed—his bed. The place where you’ve slept for the past few nights while he took the couch. Laying him down, your hands shake vigorously as you arrange him as comfortably as you can.

He’s still unresponsive, and all you can do is sit beside him, your heart hammering in your chest as you wait, watching him closely for any sign that he’s waking up. The minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity. Your mind races, replaying every second of the fight, the way Shadowmind twisted your thoughts, the way your body had moved against your will.

You’re lost in those dark thoughts when you finally see it—a faint twitch of his fingers, a slight furrow in his brow. Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes flutter open, slowly focusing on the ceiling above him. For a split second, he looks disoriented, then those steel eyes shift toward you.

Before you can stop yourself, you practically launch yourself at him, covering his body with yours, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. The suddenness of it makes him stiffen for a moment, his body tensing under your touch. But then, slowly, you feel him relax, his arms wrapping around your waist in return, holding you close.

His broad chest is warm and solid beneath yours, the strength in his arms grounding you in a way that makes you think nothing else can. You can feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong, and it calms the storm inside you just a little. Letting yourself melt into the embrace, the overwhelming relief of feeling him alive and whole washes over you.

But then your thoughts catch up to you, and you pull back slightly, your heart racing for an entirely different reason. What the hell am I doing? You force yourself to push away the thoughts of how good it felt to be in his arms, how comforting his strength was. Not the time or place.

When you make eye contact, you realize how close you still are. Your faces are just inches apart, and for a mere moment, neither of you move. His eyes, intense and unreadable, lock onto yours, and you feel a jolt of something electric shoot through you.

"Logan, I’m—" you start to apologize, but the words catch in your throat.

He shakes his head slightly, silencing you with a look. "It wasn’t you," he says softly, tightening his hold. "I know it wasn’t you."

The sincerity in his eyes almost breaks you, but you manage to hold it together. The two of you sit there in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. And yet, there’s something else too—something that lingers in the way your gazes stay locked a moment too long, in the way his hands still rest on your hips, the warmth of his touch seeping through your skin.

You pull back completely, breaking the moment. Standing up, you take a deep breath to steady yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart is still racing.

"I was really worried that I actually hurt you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you look anywhere but at him.

Logan sits up slowly, his movements a little stiff, but he’s already recovering. "I’m tough to get rid of," he says, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes are serious. "But thanks."

You nod, swallowing hard as you try to shake off the residual tension. "You should rest," you say, gesturing to the bed. 

He studies you for a moment, as if he’s trying to read something in your expression. Then he yields, lying back down, but not before he gives you one last look. "You need rest too, Knifey.”

"Yeah," you agree. "I will."

But as you walk away, you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his arms around you, and you can’t help but wonder what the hell just happened between you.

----

The warehouse falls into an uneasy silence after you step away from the bedside. The faint light filters through the cracks in the windows, casting shadows across the cluttered space. You move to a nearby chair, sinking into it with a heavy sigh, your mind still spinning from everything that’s happened. The weight of what you did under Shadowmind’s control sits heavily on your chest, the guilt plaguing you even as you try to focus on the immediate future.

You can hear Logan’s breathing slow and even out as he drifts back to sleep, his body needing time to recover from the ordeal. You know he’s right—both of you need rest—but you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes just yet. The memory of the fight, of your body acting against your will, is too fresh, too raw. You keep replaying the moment you slammed his head against the wall, the sickening sound of the impact still reverberating in your ears.

Time passes slowly. The warehouse is quiet, save for the occasional creak of old metal and the distant hum of the city outside. You sit there, watching over the mutant, your body refusing to relax. Eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in, and your eyelids grow heavy, but every time you start to drift off, you’re jolted awake by the memories.

After what feels like hours, the first rays of dawn begin to pierce the darkness. There isn’t much light, but it brings a sliver of comfort, a reminder that the night is over. You glance over at Logan, who is still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. Despite the bruises and the cuts that have healed, he looks peaceful—something you don’t often see.

Unable to sit still any longer, you get up and start pacing the warehouse, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been building up inside you. The physical movement helps clear your mind a little, but it doesn’t do much to ease the knot of emotions tangled up in your chest.

As you walk, your thoughts keep circling back to Shadowmind. The way she taunted you, the way she manipulated your mind so effortlessly—it’s infuriating. And then there’s the way Logan looked at you afterward, the way he didn’t want your apology. When you remember the way his strong arms around you, the way you felt so small but safe in his embrace… It sends a chill throughout your body, and you quickly shake off the thought.

Focus, you tell yourself. There’s no time for this. You have a job to do.

Yet even as you try to push those thoughts away, they keep creeping back, resurfacing whenever you’re not paying attention. The connection you felt in that brief moment of vulnerability lingers, and it’s unsettling. Your friendship with him has improved tremendously within the last week, building on trust and mutual respect, but this…this feels different, and you’re not sure how to deal with it.

By the time the sun is fully up, you’re mentally and physically exhausted. You decide to make some coffee, hoping the routine task will help ground you. The familiar sounds of the coffee maker, the scent of fresh brew filling the air, offer a small comfort. You pour yourself a cup, savoring the warmth as it spreads through your body, chasing away the last remnants of the night’s chill.

Sitting back down, cradling the mug in your hands, you hear movement behind you. You turn to see Logan stirring, his eyes blinking open as he slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position. He looks around, taking in the light streaming through the windows before his gaze settles on you.

"Morning," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," you whisper. "How’re you feeling?"

Logan stretches, wincing slightly as he does, his muscles protesting the movement. "Feels like I got hit by a truck," he mutters with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. But then, his expression softens, the humor fading from his eyes as he looks at you with genuine concern. "But I’ll be fine. You?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to answer. "I’m… okay," you finally say, though you’re not sure if that’s entirely true. After a moment, you add, "I just… I’m sorry, Logan. For what happened. For what I did."

He shakes his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it clear he doesn’t want you to carry this burden. "I told you, it wasn’t you. Shadowmind’s the one to blame, not you. You fought her as hard as you could."

"But I still—" you start, but he cuts you off with a look.

"You didn’t have a choice," he says firmly, leaving no room for argument. "And we’re going to make sure she pays for what she did. Together."

The mention of her name—Shadowmind—casts a shadow over Logan’s face. It’s the same haunted look you saw down in the tunnels, when he saw her again. There’s clearly more to the story, more to the pain that’s etched into his expression. You hesitate, unsure if you should press further, but curiosity and concern for him win out. "Logan," you ask quietly, "who is she? What’s the history between you two?"

He leans back against the wall, the tension in his body not easing but shifting as he gathers his thoughts. Sucking in a harsh breath, you can tell that whatever he’s about to say is something he rarely, if ever, shares.

"Her real name is Lorna Mallory," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of memories long buried but never forgotten. "We crossed paths years ago, back when I was with Weapon X."

"She was one of the many mutants that Weapon X experimented on," Logan continues bitterly. "She had powerful telepathic and telekinetic abilities, but the scientists wanted to push her beyond her limits, see just how much they could get out of her. They messed with her mind, twisted it, just like they did with me. But Lorna… she wasn’t like the others. She fought back, hard. She wouldn’t let them break her."

He pauses, his eyes distant, as if he’s seeing the past play out in front of him. You can almost picture it too—the cold, sterile labs, the cruel, calculating scientists, and the unending pain they inflicted on those they deemed as nothing more than tools. "I was different back then. More… feral, more under their control. They used me as their weapon, their enforcer. And when Lorna started resisting, they sent me after her."

Your heart sinks as you begin to piece together the story, the tragic and brutal connection between Logan and Shadowmind. "What did they make you do?" you ask, though part of you dreads hearing the answer.

His jaw clenches, his muscles tightening so much so it’s like he’s physically bracing himself for the confession. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes, the shame and regret palpable in the air between you. "They sent me to stop her. To… subdue her," he gets out. "I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t in control of myself any more than you were back there." 

Finally, he looks at you. "I attacked her. Hurt her badly. But she survived. Barely. The damage I did wasn’t just physical—it shattered her mind. Turned her into the monster she is now."

The room is laden with the weight of Logan’s confession.

"And now she wants revenge," you say quietly, understanding the gravity of the situation.

He nods grimly. "She’s been waiting for this chance. I think in some twisted way, she blames me for everything that happened to her. And she’s right. I was the one who pushed her over the edge."

"But it wasn’t your fault," you insist, repeating the words he had said to you earlier. You can see the parallels between your situation and his, both of you victims of forces beyond your control.  "They used you, just like she used me."

He doesn’t seem convinced. "Doesn’t change what I did. And now, she’s come back to finish what she started. She wanted to lure me out, make me suffer, and when she found you, she saw a way to do it."

You can see the pain in his eyes, the guilt that he’s been carrying for so long. It’s clear that this fight with Shadowmind isn’t just about survival for him—it’s personal. 

Reaching forward, you grab his hands in yours, holding them tightly. "We’ll stop her," you say. "We’ll find her and put an end to this."

Logan looks at you, a flicker of something softer passing through his gaze. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "We will."

----

The two of you decide to spend the next week doing nothing. There isn’t much to do anyway, you know your goal, you just have to act on it. But you don’t want to—not now. You want to savour these moments with Logan where it feels like you hadn’t tried to kill him. Where, for a little while, you can forget about the darkness that still persists in the corners of your mind.

So much has changed, you think, since the encounter with Shadowmind. From the point that he shared more about his past, it’s like the floodgates have opened. Logan no longer hides behind his rough exterior, letting you in to see who he is when his guard isn’t up. 

The small moments of bickering have turned into playful banter, the non-committal grunts have evolved into full-fledged conversations, and the sidelong glances have turned into lingering looks. What was once tension between you now feels like a quiet comfort, a connection that’s deepened with each passing day. You’ve gone from being reluctant allies to something more—something you’re not sure either of you are ready to name, but it’s there, undeniable in the way he stands a little closer, in the way his touch lasts just a little longer, in the way your heart skips a beat every time your eyes meet.

That’s why after a particularly quiet start to the day, you decide to cook something—a way repay Logan for letting you seek shelter with him, and lending his shoulder for you to lean on when you need to. But cooking has never been your strong suit, and as you stand in the kitchen, surrounded by half-chopped vegetables and a sauce that’s beginning to smell suspiciously burnt, you realize you might be in over your head.

Logan appears beside you as if summoned by the smell of impending disaster, his arms crossed over his chest, a bemused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You tryin’ to burn the place down, or what?"

Placing your hand on your hip in mock defiance, you huff, turning to face him. "I’m making dinner, obviously. Do you have eyes?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "That what you call it? Smells like you’re tryin’ to poison us both."

You roll your eyes, but there’s a playful glint in them. "Ha ha, very funny. I’m just… experimenting."

Snorting, his amusement is evident as he steps into the kitchen, surveying the scene of culinary carnage. "Experimentin’? Well, let’s see what you’ve got so far." He peers into the pan, his expression growing even more dubious. "You know, maybe I should take over before you really do burn the place down."

You make a face, reluctantly stepping aside as he moves to the stove with the confidence of someone who’s rescued more than a few meals in his time. "Fine, but only because I don’t want you to complain about my cooking for the next week."

He chuckles, shaking his head as he starts to salvage the meal, adding a few more ingredients with practiced ease, adjusting the heat, and stirring with impressive skill–and you didn’t even know that stirring required skill!

You hover nearby, more a spectator than a helper at this point, and you go to reach for something on a high shelf—maybe the salt or some spices, you’re not entirely sure—but as you stretch, you lose your balance. Before you can grab the counter to stabilize yourself, Logan’s hands are suddenly on your hips, steadying you with a gentle grip. For a moment, you just stand there, your back pressed against his chest, the world narrowing down to the steady rhythm of his breath, the solid warmth of his body anchoring you.

"You okay?" he asks lowly, close to your ear.

A bit breathless, and feeling the solid warmth of him behind you, all you can do is nod and try your best to string together a sentence. "Yeah, just… clumsy."

He doesn’t let go immediately, his hands resting on your hips for a second longer, as if to make sure you’re really steady. When he finally does, you turn to face him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks."

"Anytime,” he hums.

You both fall into a comfortable rhythm after that, working side by side in the kitchen. There’s a bit of bickering—mostly about your questionable cooking methods and his insistence on doing things his way—but it’s light, teasing, and you realize how much you love this. The ease, the banter, the way he seems to know exactly what you need without you having to say a word.

And when you sit down to eat later, the meal actually turning out better than you expected, there’s a sense of calm that settles between you. He catches your eye, and there’s something in his gaze—something warm, reassuring. "See? Told ya I’d make sure we didn’t get poisoned," he says with a small smirk.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky."

An unexpected banging on the warehouse’s metal doors shatters the quiet moment. You and Logan freeze, both of you instinctively tensing as your eyes meet in confusion and alarm.

“Does anyone know you live here?” you ask tightly, eyebrows furrowed. 

His expression darkens, his brows knitting together in a deep, foreboding frown. “Fuck no,” he growls.

The pounding on the door continues, relentless and ominous, each thud vibrating through the metal like a warning. Wordlessly, Logan moves toward the door, his steps slow and cautious, every muscle in his body taut and ready for whatever might be on the other side. You follow him closely, your senses on high alert, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation.

He reaches the door and hesitates for a fraction of a second, his hand hovering over the latch. His eyes flick to you, a silent communication passing between you—be ready. Then, with a swift motion, he unlatches the door and yanks it open.

In an instant, a mutant leaps at him with insane intensity, teeth bared and claws outstretched. Logan barely has time to react before they’re both locked in a brutal struggle, his claws flashing out as he fends off the attack. The sheer force of the mutant’s assault drives them both back a few steps.

“Logan!” you shout with urgency as you watch them grapple with each other.

But before you can even think to help, a wave of mutants surges toward the open doorway, their movements are eerily synchronized, as if driven by a single, malevolent will. Panic surges through you, your instincts screaming at you to act. You lunge forward, grabbing the nearest mutant and hurling them back with all your strength. The mutant crashes into the others, causing a brief moment of chaos among them.

“Get the door!” Logan shouts over his shoulder, his voice rough with exertion as he continues to fend off the mutant still trying to tear him apart.

You rush to the door, throwing your weight against it as you struggle to push it closed. The mutants on the other side slam into the door with relentless force, their growls and snarls mingling with the metallic screeching of the hinges, turning the warehouse into a scene of barely controlled chaos. The metal groans under the strain, the door trembling against your efforts to hold it shut.

“Logan, help me!” you cry out, your voice strained as you use every ounce of your strength to keep the door from giving way. You might have super strength, but against a hoard of mutants? Impossible.

He finishes off the mutant he was grappling with, leaving the attacker a bloody mess on the floor, then he’s at your side in an instant, hands bracing against the door as he leans his full weight into it. Together, you manage to push the door closed, the sound of the latch clicking into place reaching your ears. But the pounding on the other side continues, the door shaking under the persistant assault of the mutants.

“They’re being mind-controlled,” you gasp, your breath coming in ragged gulps as the whole situation hits you. The fear it causes seeps into your bones. The thought of these mutants being puppeted, forced to attack against their will, is horrifying enough—but the idea that Shadowmind has found you and Logan, that she’s orchestrating this, petrifies you. “But how did they find us?”

Logan grunts, his face twisted in concentration as he braces his shoulder against the door. “No clue.”

A sudden, horrifying thought strikes you, and you feel your blood run cold. “The van,” you whisper, more to yourself than anything.

Realizing the same thing your thinking, his eyes widen. “Shit… the GPS tracker.” His voice thick with anger and frustration. “They must have used it to track us down.”

You curse under your breath. “How didn’t we think of that?”

But there was no time to think of that now. The door shakes violently as the mutants on the other side continue to slam into it, their growls and snarls growing louder, more frenzied. You can feel the door beginning to buckle under the pressure. You press harder, using every ounce of strength you have, but it’s clear the door won’t hold much longer.

“Fuck,” Logan mutters, understanding washing over him as his knuckles whiten against the door. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he’s staring down a ghost. “They’re here for me.”

“What?” you snap, turning to him with wide eyes, confused and afraid. “What do you mean they’re here for you?”

“This is Lorna’s doing, for sure,” he growls. “She wants me.”

The implication behind his words isn’t lost on you. Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, a cold dread settling in. “No, no, no, don’t do this,” you plead, the desperation clear in your voice as your mind races to stop the train of thought you know is forming in Logan’s mind.

Your hands tighten on the door, as if you can physically hold him back from whatever reckless plan he’s considering. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“Let me go,” he says firmly. “Let me see what she wants.”

“Are you out of your mind?” you exclaim. The thought of Logan walking out there alone, straight into Shadowmind’s trap, sends a new wave of terror crashing over you. “She’s going to kill you!”

He sends you a grim smirk. “I can’t die, remember?”

But the attempt at reassurance does nothing to quell the fear that’s twisting in your gut.

“Please, no,” you beg, voice breaking as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. The thought of losing him, of watching him walk into danger alone, is unbearable. “Why can’t we do this together? We’ve been through everything else side by side—don’t make me sit this one out.”

His expression softens for a split second, something tender and conflicted passing through his eyes. He reaches out as if to touch you, but stops himself short. “I can’t drag you into this any further than I already have,” he says lowly. 

“Logan, please…” you start to say, but before you can finish, he pushes you back with a shove, the suddenness of it sending you stumbling as you try to regain your balance. The door creaks under the pressure from outside, but Logan doesn’t hesitate. He yanks it open, and with one last look at you, he steps through with a determined stride.

“NO!” you scream, but the door slams shut behind him before you can reach him. You’re left standing alone in the dim light of the warehouse, your heart pounding with fear, anger, and helplessness.

Rushing to the door, you press your ear against, trying to catch any sound, any sign of what’s happening outside. The muffled sounds of the struggle reach your ears—grunts of pain, the clash of claws and flesh, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. You can hear Logan’s grunts and snarls, his feral side taking over as he fights off the attackers, but there’s something else too—a sinister laughter, one that you heard once before, that sends chills down your spine.

“Logan!” you shout, banging on the door, your fists pounding against the cold metal. “Logan, don’t do this! Don’t you dare leave me alone in here!”

But the only response is the sound of the battle raging outside, growing more distant as if being carried away by the wind. Knowing that that Logan is out there alone, on his way to face whatever horrors Shadowmind has prepared, destroys you. You sink to your knees, the cold of the warehouse floor bleeding into your skin as everything crashes down on you.

----

A/N: so….how we feeling??? some Logan POV next chapter!!

----

TFM Taglist:

@wildefire @aliisa-jones @maximumchilddreamland @peony-always

@newromantics98 @ayamenimthiriel @fandomsunited @britttzy267

@mainly-me @icantevendood @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @d3kstar

@im-a-wh0r3 @lunaticgurly @xlocalxpunkx @yjck121 @paradisedixon

@writingthroughmyass @that-one-little-soybean @whxtewolf

comment to be added!

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 5

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: after this point you don’t really see Sofia, at least for a while. Maybe at 1 point but I haven’t decided.

I don’t know what Part 2 of the season will bring but from here on out it’s just a rewrite of events that will include Maybank reader instead. Also there’s some use of Y/N here since some conversations don’t happen with her. enjoy :)

2nd note: please let me know if you like this. I love the story telling and building the plot but wanna make sure it’s doing well. Don’t want anyone getting bored :)

Not proofread

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: nothing but soft Rafe tbh and setting up story lines. Next part will be fun

“I’m going to head out for a bit, okay? I have a few things I need to take care of. How about we meet up later at my place?” He asks as you and Rafe made your way down the path. You carried the cozy blanket and picnic basket filled with remnants from your breakfast, while he cradled Vivienne, their bond already evident in the way he held her close.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, a broad grin spreading across his face.

He lovingly passed you Vivienne after showering her with a load of affectionate kisses, and then, without missing a beat, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. The warmth of that brief connection caught you off guard. You wouldn’t lie; while you had anticipated this moment, you hadn’t expected the domesticity of it all to hit you like this. It felt so natural for him, yet it brought a flurry of emotions bubbling to the surface for you.

The kiss lingered on your lips, and you could feel the warmth emanating from both Rafe and Vivienne, creating an intimate bubble that shielded you from the rest of the world. Rafe's ability to seamlessly blend fatherhood with his charming personality was surprising; he made the whole experience seem effortless, like it was second nature to him.

You couldn't help but marvel at how your relationship had transformed over the course of just a couple of days. Just a year and a half ago, Rafe was simply the bad guy, made to make your brother and his friends lives hell. Now, he was someone who shared quiet moments and laughter with you as a family. Holding the blanket and basket in your arms, you felt an undeniable connection forming. Guilt still creeping in. You wished you allowed him to experience her first year.

As you began to walk away, your mind twirled with thoughts about what the evening might hold. You both had created unforgettable memories together, but this moment felt distinct; it brimmed with the promise of something more profound. Perhaps it was the awareness that you were becoming an integral part of his world—a world filled with simple joys, late-night giggles, and unexpected kisses. As the sun raised above the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, a smile crept across your face at the thought of the future and what lay ahead.

“Say bye dada” you tell V

“Bye dada!” V yells from off the porch

Rafe yells bye back and blows her a kiss. Driving off to do his business as you head inside.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe returns to his house, his thoughts racing as he walks through the door. On the way there, he texted Sofia, asking her to meet him. The weight of the conversation ahead loomed heavy in his chest.

Sofia arrives shortly after. “Hey, Rafe,” she greets him warmly.

“Hey.”

She steps in close and pulls him into a tight, loving hug, but Rafe doesn’t return the embrace with the same intensity. Her smile falters, and she looks up at him, concern etched across her face.

“What’s wrong? Did things not go well with your daughter?” she asks softly.

Rafe shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He gestures for her to sit with him outside by the pool. Once they’re settled, he continues, his voice a little distant. “She’s… she’s perfect. Vivienne. That’s her name. She’s the most perfect little girl to ever exist. She looks just like me. She’s so beautiful, so happy.” His words trail off, but Sofia knows there’s more. She feels a knot forming in her stomach.

“I needed to talk to you about some things,” he adds, his tone turning serious.

“Okay…” Sofia replies hesitantly, her heart beginning to race.

Rafe takes a deep breath. “I want to focus on her. On Vivienne. And… um… I want to focus on my family, with both of them. I never expected things to play out this way, and I’m sorry, but this is what I want. I need to be there for them. We need to end this.”

Sofia’s face falls, the words hitting her like a punch. “Oh,” she whispers, barely audible. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it. She thought what they had was special, that he felt the same. But now, he was going back—back to Y/N, back to his family. “Maybe you should, then,” she adds quietly, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s only right.”

Rafe finally meets her gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It wasn’t planned, okay? You know that. But everything came rushing back—every memory, every feeling. And now that V is in the picture, I can’t deny it.”

Sofia doesn’t speak for a few moments, letting the weight of his words settle. She hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t imagined she’d be here, blindsided by the sudden shift in his priorities. She didn’t expect to become a ‘stepmom,’ but she had been willing to sacrifice for him—she had believed in what they had.

But now, as sadness sinks in, so does a flicker of anger. It drags her back to a few days ago, when everything still felt right—before Y/N came back into the picture. She remembers overhearing Rafe talking to Ruthie and Topper, saying she was just a hookup, that he could never be with a Pogue like that. Even though she knew it wasn’t true two times, one for you and the other her, the words had stung. They had left a mark. And now, with this revelation, they hurt even more.

In the days that followed, she had been tempted to meet with Hollis, after her dad suggested it. Initially, she’d rejected the idea because she had loved Rafe. She thought he loved her too. But after overhearing him she met with him. Took the money from her too. she planned to return it not being able to do it. But now, with Rafe pulling away, with him choosing another life—another woman—she has nothing to lose.

“I was thinking about that deal you mentioned,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “You should do it. I was hesitant before, but maybe it’s a good opportunity. It could be a way to build something for your daughter.”

Rafe looks at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “Maybe you’re right. I still have to decide, but I’m leaning toward going for it. It could be a good opportunity.” He shrugs, unsure of his next steps.

They sit in silence for a while, the weight of their relationship hanging in the air. Finally, Rafe turns to her. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me,” he says earnestly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just think my place is with Y/N and Vivienne.”

Sofia nods slowly, her heart aching. “I understand. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek before standing to leave.

Rafe grabs her hand gently. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Really, I am.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, her voice steady but hollow. “But you should definitely take that deal.”

Rafe smiles weakly at her, grateful for her understanding. As she walks away, leaving him alone by the pool, he takes a deep breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in. He knows he’s made his choice, but something nags at him—the way she had pushed the deal so hard. For a moment, it puzzles him, but he brushes it off as her wanting the best for him.

Sitting in the stillness, he lets his thoughts swirl before finally reaching for his phone. After some time alone, he dials your number, needing to see you, ready to move forward with the life he’s chosen.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You arrive an hour later. V wobbles into the house, running straight to Rafe. “Dada!” You both smile, the word now coming naturally to her. Rafe is completely smitten. She leans in for a kiss, then holds up her stuffed turtle for him to kiss too.

Rafe looks at you with a serious expression. “I broke up with her.”

Startled, you ask, “What?”

“I ended things with Sofia. I know what I want—it’s you and V.”

“Oh… That wasn’t my plan, Rafe. I didn’t want to ruin everything you’ve built.”

“It wasn’t mine either, but I’m sure now. Is this what you want? Please say yes, because I need to show you something.” He steps closer.

“Of course, yes.”

Rafe leads you and V upstairs. It feels strange not being at Tannyhill, a place you knew so well. You stop at a door with a wooden “V” hanging on it. Inside is a complete nursery—books, toys, a beautiful crib, and a cushioned rocking chair. One wall is covered with sea animal wallpaper, the others a clean white.

“I had an interior decorator come yesterday after I found out. I wanted it done quickly. The wallpaper went up this morning. Kelce stopped by to make sure everything was right.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You pull him in for a kiss and turn to see V already making a mess.

Later, you all head downstairs for dinner. As you eat, Rafe opens up about a deal involving Goat Island, the same place your brother and his friends recently visited.

“What are you going to do?” you ask as he clenches his fist.

“I’m not sure. It could be great—for us, for her.”

“You’ll figure it out. It does seem strange, but maybe Hollis is really looking out for you. I’ll support you no matter what.” You reach for his hand.

“I love you, Banks. You’ve always been the best to me.” Your eyes widen at the old nickname. Smiling softly, you reply, “I love you too, Cameron.”

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[lilacxquartz]

on display;

suguru geto x reader x satoru gojo

plot: satoru wanted to face time while he was gone, catching you at an awkward time, or was it a good time? — plot: poly dynamics, lap grinding, smut, phone sex/video sex, f!reader — w.c: 900ish

masterlist • ao3 • more smut

Satoru was lately often busy; always needed for missions assigned by the higher-ups who claimed that there was nobody better for the job other than him and him alone. Such inconveniently timed hiccups often left both you and Suguru together all alone—which wasn’t too bad, not at all in fact, but you both missed your frosty ray of sunshine.

Missing the connecting piece to your romantic trio often made both you and Suguru lonely, pushing the two of you to seek out physical affection from each other to numb the ache. He’d often pull you close to him, demanding that you would idly spend time together tethered at the hip or sometimes… find himself in you.

You ground into Suguru’s lap for another night, the soft rolling motions circling languidly over his already erect length that strained tight against his cotton sweatpants. His big, calloused hands hovered parallel to your hips, fiercely smacking the skin of your thighs, casting a ripple within the pillowy flesh.

“Think y’can ride me?” he softly whispered into your neck, his long, silky black hair falling forward as he leaned into you. His voice sounded needy, maybe even desperate to an extent.

You hummed and nodded against his pressed form, letting him guide you up so that you hovered over his unsheathed cock that sprang out the second that he pulled his clothes down. You wiggled down in a teasing zigzag motion, just about ready to flick your hips forward but then you heard it.

That familiar jingle.

Suguru extended his hand to dig through the fabric of your jean pockets that were tossed off somewhere along the side, fishing out your mobile phone as soon as he was able to grab hold of it. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw the caller ID, biting his lip. “Hey, it’s Satoru. Bad time, but maybe worth taking?”

Pausing for just a moment, you took hold of your phone and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning forward while quickly fixing up your hair—just a little bit. You then smiled as you picked up the call, allowing him to tune in. “Aw, hey, Satoru! How are you doing?” you asked in your usual sweet voice.

“I’m so tired like you wouldn’t believe,” he replied, sagging his shoulders into what looked like a hotel armchair. “I have been on my feel all damn day.”

“Yeah?” you replied, mirroring his pout, “they’ve been working you to the ground again?”

Satoru peeled up his blindfold, revealing his weary complexion. Deep blue and purple bags circled beneath his eyes. “You could say that again.”

He was about to say something again but then paused. His exhaustion gave way to quickly building curiosity as he took in the sight of just how… disheveled you looked—as well as the odd position you were in. With a slight raise of one of his eyebrows, he brought the phone closer as though to inspect the situation at hand.

“Are you two about to fuck?” he correctly guessed.

Immediately, you pointed the camera up to the ceiling to hide your laughter, still feeling Suguru’s cock filling out your pussy. Suguru betrayed a soft groan as you tightened around him from such convulsions, but then followed through with some laughter as well. “That obvious, huh?” you giggled, “yeah, yeah, we’re about to—”

“—I miss you both, you know,” Satoru cut you off, his voice adopting a more sultry tone. “I don’t suppose that one of you would be interested in giving me a show? It would help me unwind, you know. Maybe even relax…”

Not needing to be asked twice, Suguru pinched the phone from your grasp and then hovered the device over at a tilt that pointed at a nice, compromising overhead angle. He then mumbled something underneath his breath into your ear, smacking his free hand against the soft contours of your ass, as though to signal for you to pick up where you left off.

You, in turn, got to work right away. You ground and swivelled your hips at a hypnotic tempo, that managed to silence the two men as they watched you work your magic. Suguru couldn’t help but drive himself further into your body, thrusting in perfect rhythm with your fluid motions, letting soft grunts escape his lips as he rutted up towards your hilt. You held on tight—flinging your head forward and shuddering out breathy moans, feeling yourself—losing yourself to the blissful sensation.

Pulling back ever so slightly, you turned his chin over to face yours and pressed a heated kiss against his lips. You invaded his mouth with your tongue with loving passion, while he, too, reciprocated such passing fervour. As this happened, his phone-wielding hand drifted and panned you both out of focus, but Satoru was quick to clear his throat, reminding you both that he was still there. He tried to keep up to his best ability on the other side of the screen, after all. His shoulder slightly trembling and wiggling, hinting that he was stroking himself to the sight on display.

Suguru’s form however soon grew sloppier and you had to take over as the camerawoman, holding the phone at the best angle you could provide. With a stifling, ending thrust, Suguru then grunted in a strained voice before at last coming undone and emptying himself into the confines of your cunt. In doing so, you nearly dropped the phone as you too, finished up, hearing Satoru’s shuddering gasps follow suit as he finally caught up to the two of you.

And after a moment of mutually shared silence, the two of you were just about comfortable enough to all lay in silence and do absolutely nothing at all—all the while Satoru recollected himself with the sight of the two people that he was completely and utterly in love with—frustratingly impossibly far from reach, missing you both extremely so.

[yumeka-sxf]

New chapter today, and even though most of it seemed to continue the silly tone from the previous one, the last few pages actually shocked me! 👀

For the first time, ANYA CONFESSED TO SOMEONE THAT SHE CAN READ MINDS! Now this doesn't necessarily mean anything crazy will happen in the series from now on, since Damian doesn't believe her (at first). But proving that you can read minds is easy to do, so the question now becomes, will Anya keep trying to prove it to Damian until he believes her? Or will she regret it later and not try to prove it, and then the plot point isn't touched on again? Regardless, this chapter definitely makes it seem like Damian will be the first person to know about her mind-reading powers.

Then there's the question of why Anya chose to confess this to Damian? I think it's a combination of a few reasons, the main one being that Damian doesn't have any connection to her family, so little risk of him telling them and thus bringing about the fear of abandonment Anya has should they find out. This might also be why she chose to tell him over Becky, since Becky already has somewhat of a relationship with Loid and Yor. The other reason could be that, as time has gone on, she's learned to trust him, at least when it comes to something like this. As hostile as he is towards her, she knows that he's not a double-crosser or a blabbermouth, and deep down he wants to do what's right. And lastly, it was the heat of a moment - her knowledge about him seemed weird so he questioned it, and perhaps at that highlighted moment, when Damian was being genuinely nice to her (since she can read minds, she knows if he's being genuine or not), she wanted to try not lying for once, just to see what happens.

Guess we'll have to wait until next time to see if anything ground-breaking comes from this...will Anya keep pursuing this, will she regret it and let Damian continue to not believe her, or will it just not be mentioned again until later? This reminded me a bit of the Mole Hunt arc where Yuri became suspicious of Loid, but the latter was able to throw him off the track. But the seed of suspicious was planted nonetheless. In this case, even if Damian continues to think Anya was lying, a seed of suspicion may have been planted in him too that could come into play much later on. We'll see!

But besides this big event, a few other notable things in this chapter was super rare soft Damian from the above page. This continues to prove what I've always thought - that Damian acts the way he does to appear "proper" in front of his peers, but when he's alone with Anya, his real feelings seep out. She's a rare person where he doesn't feel the need to put on airs around.

We also got more Henderson x Martha crumbs. Love to see it.

Also loved to see Anya getting cocky and Loid freaking out about it 😅

Overall, even though I'm not as into Damianya as I am Twiyor, I still enjoy seeing their progress, and this chapter was definitely one of the most Damianya-chapters of all~ Despite some of the "dance with Damian" challenges being a bit too silly for my taste (like, how did Emile and Ewen organize all that last minute?) the payoff at the end was worth it! Loid and Yor better get themselves together or their daughter will end up beating them in the romance department 😂

[writingwithcolor]

Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh

[bbina]

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . yearning

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ 3.6k words later my brain is absolutely FRIED with this chapter... took me a day or two and a headache later but ITS HERE. finally goddamn.. and btw im sorry zb1 stans that i've may or may not have sorta villainized your man... its just for the plot i swear!

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @nshmurarki @ennycutie @ffixtionista @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

you ignore the way your phone was buzzing like crazy inside your pockets. you couldn't stand it anymore. not even a day in with your unofficial smoking ban, you're already caving in because of some minor inconvenience in your life— "relapsing", as karina likes to call it

it's stupid, you think. why now? you were doing so well with the process of moving on but then it just hits you on a random day. what exactly are you missing? do you miss the warmth that comes with being in the arms of your lover? do you miss the stupid laugh you have when he makes you smile after a rough day?

what are you yearning for?

before you even realized it, you found yourself in front of the same convenience store you always go to. somehow this little convenience store just provided everything you needed when you need it the most such as right now

you only wanted one thing and no one is here to stop you

"one pack of–"

"i'll take these please. thank you" someone cuts you off in front of the cashier. you let out a scoff until the voice registers in your head

it was wonbin

instantly you shoot him a glare. how the fuck did he find you this quick. actually scratch that– how did he know you'll be here?

with your reaction, wonbin takes this time to pay for whatever he grabbed just before you could tell the cashier that you wanted a pack of cigarettes

the cashier eyes you two weirdly, an eyebrow raise as he is unsure on who to serve first

"uh do you still need the cigarettes..?" the cashier cautiously asks, throwing a thumb towards the display behind him

"yes"

"no!"

you and wonbin both say at the same time, confusing and irritating the underpaid cashier. he lets out a loud irritated sigh and punches in wonbin's things before hastily handing it to him

"thank you for coming, come again next time" the cashier grits his teeth as he forces himself to smile

"thanks" wonbin chirps, grabbing the plastic bag and your hand before dragging you out of the convenience store

"what the fuck, wonbin! i told you i need one right now!" you complained, yanking your hand back from his grip

"you don't. that's why i'm here so instead of smoking, you could talk it out like any normal person would" wonbin points out like it was the most obvious thing in the world

"but i don't want to" you grumbled, stopping in your tracks. "just leave me alone today. i don't want to be around anyone"

before you could say anything else, you see someone you know all too well walking towards your direction. your eyes widened and you feel your breath hitch. if your eyes aren't deceiving you, you're sure that it was gyuvin and his new partner

wonbin notices your sudden reaction and before he could ask, a much taller guy approaches the two of you

"y/n, is that you?" gyuvin asks

you felt yourself frozen in place, unsure on what to do. this was the first time in a month that you've talked to him. hell, why would you? you two are broken up in the first place and gyuvin made it sure that you two will never be a thing ever again

"it is you!" gyuvin gasps, finally reaching you and wonbin who just looked lost at the moment. is he your infamous ex boyfriend that you kept mentioning?

"how have you been?" gyuvin makes small talk, "haven't seen you in a long time"

"and why would you?" you retort, raising an eyebrow at the taller male

gyuvin scoffs and pats your head, "still feisty as ever" he comments. gyuvin then finally takes wonbin beside you and his eyes widened.

"is this the new guy you're seeing?" he asks, looking between you and wonbin, trying to piece things together

before you could answer, wonbin does it for you

"that's none of your business" he calmly states, grabbing a hold of your hand, "c'mon. the guys are waiting for us" wonbin lies, gently pulling you away in front of gyuvin

"woah man! i was just asking a simple question" gyuvin raises his hands in mock surrender, "come on babe, let's go" gyuvin cackles, walking away with his arms around his new partner who shoots you a look

you close your eyes as you process what the fuck just happened to you. this day cannot get any worse than it already is. did you really have to run into your ex like that in the open? with his new partner too?

"y/n" wonbin snaps his fingers in front of your face. you must've been too deep with your thoughts to even hear him calling your name

"what?" you snap back to reality

"i asked if that was that him?" he asks quietly, stealing a glance

"... yeah" you murmured, taking a deep breath "i think i'm gonna need some fresh air"

wonbin nods "and i just know the right place"

. . . ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

wonbin takes you to the rooftop of his building. the same spot he took you during the party back at his building complex. now here you were, leaning against a railing, letting the air hit your skin

wonbin was seated on the ground, waiting for you to speak. he fishes out the food that he blindly grabbed just so he could stop you in time from buying your cigarettes

hearing the plastic rustle behind you, you turned around to see him munching on some snack. in an instant, he raises the bag of chips to offer you some, only for you to shake your head no and turned back around

"... i still want a cigarette" you say out loud

wonbin chuckles, "too bad"

"you're the worst" you grumbled, pushing yourself off the railing to sit next to wonbin who only laughs at your reaction

"i'm ready when you are" you hear wonbin murmur beside you as he pulls out more snacks out of the plastic bag just in case you'll ever need it

taking a deep breath, you take a look at wonbin

"where do you want me to start?" you ask, unsure where to begin. your thoughts are messy as it is

"anywhere. just talk and i'll listen" he shrugs, licking the chip flavor off his fingers

you start fiddling with fingers, trying to think of something to start off with. being put on the spot like this isn't helping at all. maybe if you just had your trusty dusty cigarette, you would've forgotten about your little dilemma in the first place

since there was no backing out from wonbin much longer, what else is there left to lose aside from your pride and dignity from being perceived?

"i think..." you start, staring off into the distance, "... i miss having someone or more like i miss being with someone" you admit sheepishly

it's pathetic, you think to yourself now that you've said it out loud, it sounds and it is stupid now that you think about it

wonbin nods his head understandingly beside you, waiting for you to carry on

"i miss the feeling of what it feels like to love and to be loved. do you think i'm wrong for missing my ex like that?" you turn to wonbin for his opinion

your eyes both meet and he shakes his head no

"no, i don't think it's wrong for you to miss your ex. even i miss my ex sometimes" he says

"right?! it's not wrong right?! it's just normal human behavior to miss something you had" you throw your hands up in the air

"but sometimes it feels like i'm the villain in my own mind for missing what i had and it's so embarrassing to admit it out loud to my friends after all the shit talking i did" you continue, reflecting on yourself for the past month

"yes i hate him for what happened but i think miss what we had at the same time. i know this is so toxic to say but it's like playing with fire and to be honest, it feels or it felt really good" you finish

wonbin takes time to digest what you're ranting. making sure he's taking in all the words you're saying. you take notice of this and start to feel anxious again

was it too much for wonbin to take?

"what i'm getting is that you don't actually miss the person, but the feeling of security of being in a relationship" wonbin comments, making sure his words aren't hurtful or shameful to hear

you give him a weird look. what did he mean by that? did you not make it loud and clear or were you missing something?

what did he mean by that you don't miss the person? you never really had any other exclusive relationship with anyone else besides gyuvin so it would make sense that you miss gyuvin the way you are missing what its like to be in a relationship

wonbin pauses and holds a finger out. motioning you to wait

"hear me out on this. maybe the reason why you feel that way is because, you actually never felt that feeling you're looking during your time in the relationship. it was always you who was the giver right? so now that you're all on your own, you are now craving for the things you've never felt before" wonbin says gently

"in short, maybe you're yearning for familiarity. now that it's gone, you don't know what you actually want, hence you missing what it's like to be with someone and the like" he finishes, finally looking at you as you take in his words

familiarity. what a funny word.

you take a deep breath as the memories of your past relationship all comes rushing through your mind. you were always the giver or should you say you were the "pants" in the relationship. you never really did receive anything in return that amounted to the shit you did throughout the relationship

even if your ex boyfriend fucked up, you were always quick to forgive and forget

yes you had moments where you felt like you were the luckiest girl in the world but looking back now...

if you could talk to your past self, you would've told her to grow a pair and stand up for yourself to those who won't even bother to look at your direction when the time comes

you were so busy giving everything you had to the person who won't even do the same to you in return and in the end, you were left with nothing for yourself

so much that you didn't even notice that you were feeling neglected throughout the relationship. even you had needs, not only him

you cringe at the mere thought of being the one who serves your lover like it was your duty to do so. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. so that the relationship could stay afloat

but it's too late now. here you are, a month later after the break up. yearning for something that you don't even know, yet you know damn well that you'll never ever receive it

so do you actually miss your ex boyfriend? or did you just miss the feeling of being needed? do you miss the feeling of knowing that if you do your part in the relationship, they will always be there?

maybe it wasn't the familiarity that you long for?

"no.. i'm sure i miss him. at one point he was my everything so of course i miss him! it's not easy to move on from someone you've been with for over a year!" you defend yourself, trying to justify the way you feel but it just feels all wrong

you start to think about those times where it was you who was being taken care of for once. times where your ex would hold you and tell you that everything will be alright as long as you two are together. the times where it felt like the whole world was against you and that you only had him?

those were real feelings right? you had every right to miss those rare moments shared between you and your ex lover

right?

"maybe it's not him directly, but the feeling of loving somebody that you didn't notice that you were losing yourself in the process" wonbin says

you did lose yourself in the process of loving someone else. that's why you're acting the way you are now, right? you barely know how to act anymore, thinking that no one would actually understand you, get you because what else was left for you to understand yourself?

"no" you deny, furrowing your brows. “i do miss him,” you say quickly, but the words don’t feel as true as they once did.

do you really?

do you really miss him that way?

do you miss the way you had to bend your back just so you could give him what he want— exactly what he wanted?

do you miss the way that you'd spend nights trying to make amends over some dumb misunderstanding?

do you miss him the way you were slowly losing yourself that your friends had to keep you in check?

do you?

you can feel your chest tighten as the realization slowly sinks in

was that even love?

or was it a routine that you've grown used to?

maybe you didn't really miss him at all. maybe it was the comfort it brought you all along. maybe—

you were so deep into thought that you didn't notice something right in front of you. it was wonbin holding out a cigarette

"here" he says, voice soft

you look up at him with wide eyes as you glance between him and the cigarette, having an inner debate with yourself if you should take up his offer. should you?

"i'll give you a pass but only for today" he prompts, grabbing your hand as opens your palm to place the stick

with a deep sigh, you accept and held the familiar stick rest in between your fingers. using your free hand, you rummage through your bag for your lighter but wonbin beats you to it

he was already holding a lighter with his hands in front of you. wonbin flicks the lighter and a small flame emerges. you let out a little scoff but nevertheless you leaned your head toward him as he lights up your cigarette for you

for a moment, your eyes meet his, and there’s something different in the air. It’s not just the flame between you—it’s the proximity, the way his gaze lingers as you inhale.

wonbin takes notice of the bags under your eyes when you leaned closer to him. his eyes trail over your face, taking a good look when you're this close and personal to him

he fights the urge to tuck the stray hairs falling over your face

you pull back, taking in your first drag, and let the smoke swirl from your lips. you ca feel his eyes were on you so you peer your head ever so slightly to offer him a small smile

wonbin hangs his head low, smiling sheepishly to himself, tucking away his lighter back into his pockets

suddenly he feels you tap his shoulder. you were offering him the cigarette

"the deal was that if i stop smoking, you would too. but since i'm smoking right now, it's only fair for you to smoke too, right?" you say, offering him the stick

wonbin laughs in disbelief. "i guess you're right"

of course you were trying to justify your actions with the deal you two made the night prior

you were about to hand it to him, but something makes you stop. instead of giving it directly to him, you raise the cigarette to his lips yourself. his eyes flicker in surprise, but he leans in, lips brushing lightly against your fingers as he takes a drag

there’s a sudden shift in the air, something you can’t quite pin point

wonbin's a little shocked by your action. he could've held it himself but whatever. who is he to say no to a free hit?

you watch him take a long drag before blowing the sweet smoke into the cool air. the smoke curls between the two of you. there's something intimate about this and you don't know what possessed you to do such thing

wonbin coughs a little, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste. something he isn't used to

"i still don't understand why you prefer cigarettes over vapes" wonbin makes a sour face and wipes his mouth with his arm

you shrug, taking another drag after him, "it's easier to dispose"

"fair enough" wonbin comments, grabbing your hand to take another hit which you gladly let him

it was like this for a while. just taking turns smoking until the cigarette finally dies. you squish the remains on the concrete floor before throwing it into the plastic bag from the convenience store earlier

you were feeling a lot better now that you've smoked it out. you made a silent vow to yourself that this would be the last time you'll ever do this to yourself

if it meant that you'd stop clinging onto your dead relationship, you could at least give up the same vice you picked up from the said relationship

no more clinging onto the feeling of familiarity. it was time to start fresh

wonbin leans back on the wall, staring out over the city, fiddling with a receipt. he wants to say something but he's not sure if he should

fuck it, wonbin thinks to himself before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath

wonbin's voice breaks the sudden silence

"i don't think i've told anyone this either but," wonbin begins, voice quieter, "i still think about my ex relationship"

you take a glance at him, noticing the way he his shoulders are tensed and that he was gripping what seems to be a receipt so tightly that you could see his knuckles turning white. you note that he seems to be deep in thought, gazed fixed on whatever is in front of him

"we dated for a long while," wonbin continues, there's a hint of bitterness in his tone of voice. "i thought things were going well but then she ghosted me. twice" wonbin starts to laugh

"first time, i gave her space. i chased after her and thought maybe she just needed some time to be herself or something.." wonbin trails off, "then she came back with no explanation or whatever and obviously i was so relieved like she came back so i didn't question it"

wonbin's brows furrow as he rips the receipt he was playing around with into pieces

"and then she did it again. this time, no warning or no anything. just, gone" wonbin breathes out, crumpling the ripped pieces of paper into a ball before looking up at the night sky

"i don't even know why i kept hoping for so long like a fucking idiot. i kept looking, kept searching, literally anything i could get my hands on just for an explanation on why she would do that but alas, i got nothing"

you can only stare at him in silence. shocked that he too would open up something he never told his closest friends. you can sense that there was more to this so you just kept quiet and waited for him to let it all out

"it makes you wonder what's wrong with you, you know? like was everything not enough?" wonbin smiles bitterly, "it doesn't matter how much are you willing to do because if the person won't appreciate it, then anything you do will never be enough in their eyes"

you've never felt more seen

after a moment of silence, you slowly reach out for his hand, giving it a small gentle squeeze. it's a small gesture, sure but you know damn well that it meant a lot not only for him, but for you as well. your own way of offering your support

wonbin's eyes widened when he feels your hand snake their way onto his and in that moment, it feels right

you don't really understand why you feel this way towards wonbin. was it because of the shared experience? there was something about him that just makes you gravitate towards him and vice versa

there's a moment of silence after that. just the sound of the bustling city below could be heard echoing through the cool night sky but it's comforting

"thanks for listening" your voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence. you turn to the side to see wonbin watching the stars silently. you feel a small smile creeping up your face, feeling a little better that you actually opened up to someone for once

you and wonbin suddenly make eye contact. he then reaches his hand over your face. you feel yourself flinch and close your eyes before you felt his fingers delicately tuck your hair away from your face

your heart races but there's an odd sensation of comfort in the air that it feels warm. like two people who met by fate due to the same circumstance of carrying the burden of recent heartbreaks and that,

for the first time in a long time, you don't feel so lonely

[directdogman]

Dogman, how do you write SO WELL!?!? I love all your characters and I need to know what/where you find inspo from...

Ha. Every writer is just someone who apes the creative processes of their inspirations. For video game writing specifically, there's two answers for me.

Toby Fox is always gonna be a huge inspiration for me. I've written plots and characters before and had to abandon ideas after realizing I'd accidentally written part of UT again. Even some of the ideas I used were undeniably inspired by UT in a subconscious way and ofc, I included several explicit references to UT in my last series. Toby's a very clever guy who likely pays very close attention to the art he consumes and tries to figure out how to maximize how much his work connects with his audience. Whatever his process is, it works.

The other answer is a lil funnier: Scott Cawthon, but specifically the legend, not the man. For context: Back in the earlier days of the FNaF fandom, people had a hyper-inflated view of Scott Cawthon's writing skills that largely came from how little of a presence he had back in those days. In the vacuum of Scott actually explaining his own process in detail, people got caught up in his genuinely creative way of hiding exposition in his games using cryptid and (then) unexpected methods, and a narrative formed (one that he's since refuted.)

While he never implied it tmk, fans broadly believed that he constructed these sweeping and complex narratives with tons of cohesive moving parts, with the games essentially acting like the mere tip of his lore iceberg. People even thought he wrote so much that he had whole games worth of lore outlined from the beginning! In the first Dawko interview he gave, he clarified that this wasn't the case and explained roughly what his process was (basically just outlining rough theme ideas + aesthetics for future titles.)

However, that legend made younger-me's mind run wild and any time I wrote a story, it became very difficult for me to not keep writing down ideas while completing the grunt work that followed me finishing my scripts. When I finished DSaF 1, I already had DSaF 2's draft written and by the time 2 was done, I had enough lore for a 3rd game on paper (and a lot more stuff that I didn't use.) By the time three was out, I had pages upon pages of unused concepts/story ideas and more or less just had to decide to call it quits or else I'd be pumping out entries forever!

That's why if you go back to those older games, there's references that directly refer to future plot-points in pretty casual/easy to miss ways. (Like Henry's mention in DSaF 1, Dave being heartless in DSaF 2, Jack being soulless in 1, and even Blackjack being Jack's soul in 2. Most of 3's major plotpoints are implied somewhere in 2 and some of 2's in 1.)

DT is much the same. By the time I finished writing it, I had fairly detailed drafts for arcs for each of the characters, some early material ended up getting completely recontextualized (and even modified in small ways to not conflict with the wider ideas I came up with.)

I get really into writing my stories/characters and I always wonder exactly how things ended up where they are, what characters think about but don't say, etc etc. This is why I have an obscene amount of Crown lore that I have very little to do with rn (since he impacted the whole world so deeply.)

This extra stuff also includes plenty of sequel material ideas, though I didn't think I'd even get a chance to use them since DT performed pretty meagerly before the big release and I was expecting to have to move onto something new. Though it turned out that Scott didn't actually write his games this way (by his own admission), it's the correct answer for what my core writing inspiration for writing game narratives is.

Hope this helps!

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

I'm Kinda Terrified to Ask, But... Questions I NEED to Ask After You Read My Writing

I understand that many writers feel hesitant about sharing their work. It can be unnerving to think about others critiquing your writing. However, sharing your writing is crucial, especially if you're seeking feedback or thinking about publishing your work for a wider audience. Personally, I've only shared my work with a select few friends.

If you're thinking about doing the same, or if your friend has already read your entire piece, it might be helpful to ask them some questions to get their feedback and opinion on your writing. Here are a few questions you can consider asking them.

(Disclaimer: This is not my original concept; rather, it was inspired by something I saw on Pinterest. However, I did ask several friends who had read my work these exact questions, so I thought I'd share them with you all as well. Please let me know if you are able to locate the original creator of the concept on Pinterest.)

 Now That You've Read It, I Have Some Burning Questions

"So, uh, you finished reading my story... 👀"

• What was your overall impression? Did you enjoy it? Was it...you know, good? 😅

• Which character did you like the most? The least? And why?

• Was the pacing okay? Did the story drag at any point or move too quickly?

• Did the dialogue feel natural and authentic? Or did it sound a bit forced?

• Were there any plot points that confused you or didn't make sense?

• What was your favorite scene or moment? The one that really stood out to you.

• If you could change one thing about the story, what would it be?

• On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate it overall?

And the big one... 😨 Would you actually read more of my writing in the future?

anxiously awaits response

Before you go, why not join us at The Write Right Society? We're a supportive Tumblr community where writers lift each other up. Whether you're a newbie or a pro, we'd love to have you! Share your work, get feedback, and connect with writers and aspiring authors. 

[caffedrine]

Chevalier Michel - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present – Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

As usual, Emma brings tea and sweets to the garden pavilion for Chevalier. Unusually, she brings enough for a third person. Once she arrives, she apologizes for making the two wait.

Chevalier and kid!Chevalier do not look up from their respective books. The atmosphere between them remains the same.

It had been surprising to run into kid!Chevalier in but, looking at them side by side, it is clear that this really is the child version of Chevalier.

She explains that she brought Chevalier’s tea without milk or sugar as usual, but maybe kid!Chevalier would like something different? Maybe something sweeter?

Kid!Chevalier tells her that he already said she wasn’t required to behave considerately towards him. Emma agrees that he did say that, but even if it wasn’t required, she still wants to take care of him. She offers some scones that she baked earlier, adding that they would go well with the tea.

Kid!Chevalier does not look impressed.

(Just imagine this but three feet shorter)

Emma gestures at the pile of books that seems to increase every time they are out of her direct line of sight and asks if kid!Chevalier found anything useful. She imagines kid!Chevalier is looking for a way to return to his original time, and she wonders how close he is to finding it.

Chevalier tells Emma that it’s impossible to find. At Emma’s confused expression, Chevalier explains that he has already read every book in the imperial court, and there is nothing about time travel. This is something Emma should have figured out for herself.

Emma asks what the pile of books is for, and Chevalier muses that kid!Chevalier must be bored.

Kid!Chevalier adds that he doesn’t have anything else he needs to do.

Emma is surprised at how calm the child is. On the other hand, there are lots of books that kid!Chevalier has never read, so she hopes that this will be interesting to him.

Chevalier tells her to go ahead and leave the child be. He knows how to take care of himself – he might look like a child but he’s not all that different from adult!Chevalier. Emma is confused, and Chevalier asks if this looks like a normal child to her.

Well, yes. Maybe because she’s spent a lot of time around adult!Chevalier, but kid!Chevalier, despite how well-mannered he is, is still pretty childish.

Both Chevaliers are appalled.

Emma muses that their reaction is the exact same.

Moving on, Emma asks if there’s anything she can help kid!Chevalier with.

Nope.

Emma asks if she can take care of him.

She’s bothering him.

Emma explains that if there is anything that is bothering him, she wants to help him.

Kid!Chevalier ignores her.

Chevalier explains that he’s just not used to being doted on. As a child, there was no one like her who would take care of him, and so he has no idea how to handle her affection.

Kid!Chevalier remarks that his adult self seems to enjoy pointless chatter. Chevalier muses that he might be right. Sulkily, kid!Chevalier doubts he will ever become like Chevalier. Chevalier agrees that the way his life turned out surprised even him.

Awh, adult!Chevalier is eating the scones. Unfortunately, kid!Chevalier shows no interest in them at all.

Suddenly kid!Chevalier asks why Chevalier is eating the scones so carelessly. Chevalier asks if Emma seems like someone who would poison him?

Oh, what about an accidental poisoning?

Chevalier thinks that if Emma was able to poison the scones, accidentally or not, then it’s his fault for not being able to detect poison. However, he is not so unskilled that he would make that kind of mistake.

Chevalier notes that kid!Chevalier doesn’t have that much confidence in his own skills. He recalls that he couldn’t detect poison that well as a child either. But don’t worry, Chevalier had experienced enough poisonings that he can tell these scones are safe.

Kid!Chevalier muses over this information, it sounds like even a monster like himself can grow to some extent.

Emma snaps that Chevalier is not a monster.

Oops, she didn't mean to be so loud. But still, this is a point that is important to her. In a more normal tone, she explains that it's normal for humans to be cautious and grow from their experiences. Kid!Chevalier asks if she thinks he looks like a human child.

Of course!

Chevalier snorts and notes that Emma is a bit simple. Kid!Chevalier snorts and agrees. Emma decides to take this as a compliment from the two of them, her heartwarming at the sound of amusement from kid!Chevalier.

Suddenly, kid!Chevalier stands up from the table, and Emma asks where he’s going. He explains that he’s finished reading all the books here, so he’ll head out to the library. Emma offers to accompany him, but he tells her she is unnecessary.

But what if a book he wants is in a high place? She could reach it for him!

Kid!Chevalier predicts that Emma will fall off the ladder reaching that high book for him. Emma assures him it has been over 16 hours since she last fell. Chevalier laughs at this, startling kid!Chevalier.

He explains that he never thought that he’d be able to laugh like that. Emma explains that she fell in love with Chevalier’s laugh and smile.

Kid!Chevalier shakes his head, this is nonsense. He’s merely a beast wearing a human’s skin.

Emma disagrees, it's more like he’s a human who is wearing the skin of a beast. Of course, the same goes for kid!Chevalier.

Kid!Chevalier grumbles that she is a very strange person. Emma tells him that she’ll consider that a compliment as well.

Kid!Chevalier returns to his seat, and Chevalier asks if he wasn’t planning on getting more books. Kid!Chevalier explains that he has changed his mind, he’s decided he can read books whenever he wants. Then he reaches out, plucks up a scone, and eats it. Emma gushes over him, asking if he minds it, if it suits his taste. He will admit that it is edible.

Emma proffers the jams available, telling him to choose whatever he likes. Kid!Chevalier grumbles that she is something to make such a fuss over jams. Emma explains that she’s really happy, kid!Chevalier looks like he thinks the scone was delicious.

Chevalier agrees, he never objectively looked at himself as a child, but right now, kid!Chevalier’s emotions are on his face.

Kid!Chevalier looks grumpy as Chevalier notes that he just has no experience.

Kid!Chevalier grumbles that they’re acting like he’s just some kid. Emma agrees and asks him to let her pamper him more.

Emma has long believed that the reason Chevalier is the way he is was due to his environment rather than his talent. If so, she wants both the adult and the child to know that someone here loves them.