#i've been talking about fusion a lot lately...

[lollytea]

Just want to bring up a question about the Grom curse thing, this implies that a curse can be made by can be made per se by strong emotions. This also may have given Belos the idea of "the dangers of wild magic" he could've conveniently corrupted people who posed a great threat to him. just a thought

Oooooh!!

I'm hesitant to call Grometheus' fate a curse because I can't say for certain if that's what it is. TOH is kinda vague about how curses in this universe work or what defines them.

It's never clarified if Belos' problem is technically a curse like he claims or just some stupid shit he did to himself, without considering the possibility that the glyph/palisman magic might be uncooperative with his (at the time) human body.

I don't imagine that what Grometheus endured was a traditional curse like Eda but rather, something more similar to Darius (and maybe Belos a bit too)

Alright so, this is just a headcanon but I've always figured that this talent Darius has for shifting his whole body, flesh, bones and all, into goo mode wouldn't be like. Standard abomination magic stuff. This track is the study of controlling goo, not becoming goo. So, the stuff he's pulling off here is near impossible for any normal witch.

So, in my opinion, Darius is simply not normal. He was born with a capacity for magic that is far beyond that of a normal witch and equates to being extremely powerful. Anyway his mastery over abominations became so natural to him, as simple as breathing that his physical body went through an innate "transfusion" of sorts where he basically became one with his magic.

Cases like these are very rare and usually only crop up if a witch has bonded their soul to one specific area of magic. So if goo is what's making Darius' bile sac overheat, goo is what he's gonna be.

So, for example, another born powerful witch like Eda, who is a jack of all trades, wouldn't have developed something like this (even if her curse hadn't hindered her.) because there's too many spells and techniques being practised but no outright obsession that is being mastered enough to completely dilute her bloodstream.

Well, possibly. It's unknown if a witch can achieve this form with mixed magic. The condition is rare enough that not a lot of data has been collected yet.

Giuls and me have been exploring the same idea with Willow

(There's a lot more in-depth biological details about how this whole thing works but Giuls will probably talk more about all that at some point)

Anyway!! Grometheus!!

So, what I imagine is that Darius is an example of a successful fusion between physical form and magic, while Grometheus was an example of the same thing Gone Terribly Wrong.

See, in Darius' case, he managed to achieve a perfect union between his own sense of identity and the magic that had become part of him.

But in Grometheus' case, that did not happen.

They began as person who collected the essence of others for their research. They hoarded fears inside their own mind for years and years, maybe even decades. That's thousands and thousands of souls that they stole those fears from.

That's far too much for a normal witch to handle. But Grometheus was not a normal witch. They were powerful enough to endure it. Or at least they thought.

It was too much. Far too much. It was like deathly bacteria damaging everything inside of you. A slow and steady rot. Think food that's gone bad that's been there for months. That was the magic inside of Grometheus.

I dont imagine that this corruption was directly caused by Grometheus' negative emotions. But rather, those emotions weakened their resistance to the swarming fear that was consuming them. Maybe if they had been stronger or happier or had people around who reminded them why they were alive, they could have realized what was happening before it was too late.

There still would have been long lasting damages. But they may have been able to find the balance between themself and the magic and kept their identity intact.

But soon enough, the fear ate away at everything else that remained of Grometheus. They lost who they were. They didn't know who they had ever been.

They were no longer a witch who collected fears. They were simply the vessel for fear itself.

It's a little unclear what this ask means but I don't imagine that Belos was the one who corrupted Grometheus, if that's what it's implying. Although yes, he probably would have used this case as effective propaganda.

At the time of Grometheus' corruption, this concept of physical form and magic fusion was unheard of. No cases had been documented yet. So Belos could conveniently twist it as an example of the dangers of wild magic.

However, as times changed and studies continued, this condition became more well known in the Healing Coven as a perfectly natural (if rare) biological evolution.

Sadly, it had not yet been theorized that Grometheus' case was anything other than a reckless use of wild magic, rather than a condition that wound up destroying them because nobody knew enough to help.

The truth doesn't come to light until after their vessel was slain in the Hexside arena, but they were hardly still alive in there anyway. The truth is delivered by Gus Porter, who saw everything through their eyes during that one moment where he dissected them with his amplifier mirror.

So now, Gus has absorbed it all. The thousands upon thousands of fears all melted together into a sickening tarry contamination. Gus inherits everything that consumed Grometheus and now it resides in his own mind.

And that's where we currently stand and now the question hangs in the air. Can Gus achieve a successful physical and magical transfusion the way Darius did? Or is he in danger of losing himself to the rot?

[another-lost-mc]

JES YOU UPDATED, the kids miss you/j

I've been busy doing a lot of nothing, if that makes sense. Well, maybe not nothing - a random assortment of rl and blog odds-and-ends that don't seem very productive but I'm going to call it self-care. lol

(read more cause this got longer than I thought it would.)

I don't usually take March Break off work, but my empty schedule this year surprised me and I didn't really know what to do with myself. I spent the first few days fending off a persistent headache, then I spent some time re-watching Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel while I worked on some crossover/fusion potential with OM. Today the headache is back and I'm dog-sitting which shouldn't be as distracting as it is. (She's only a little Boston Terrier but my cats get all worked up about it even though they're the ones stalking her around the house for no reason.)

I've also been playing Honkai Star Rail. I have no idea what I'm doing but it's kind of fun. I want to give Genshin Impact a try too, but I'm not sure I want to play both. (I know dailies are optional blah blah blah but if I'm going to spend time doing busywork like that, I might as well go back to playing WoW.)

Someone sent me another ask about my current WIPs so I think I'll just ramble about them here.

The canon cast and OC post for surgery!anon. I'm trying to balance fluff and angst and realism and make it comforting at the same time (aka what I would've wanted to read before mine). There's some overlap with a post about Solomon's humanity that's it's own separate WIP.

Naming conventions in the Devildom and CR. These are my worldbuilding ideas to explain how Solomon has an established pact with Bathin (my OC for Mephisto's younger brother) since he's part of the Ars Goetia. This also discusses how those same ideas apply to Luke.

Fleshing out the angel OC stuff with Gabriel and Uriel. They're situated in the AU where MC is sent to the CR for the exchange program and not the Devildom which is why I haven't talked about them much. I have the fem!angel OC as well but I don't know what to name her (I want her to be like Zee where she's an "ordinary" angel). To be fair, she's probably not going to show up much outside of the story I originally wrote for her.

Genderbending-the-OCs anon, you have no idea what this is doing to me. It changes their kinks and their dynamics and how they would approach MC and I am mentally screaming into a pillow right now.

I've been writing directly in my Tumblr drafts lately, but I found a holiday fic for Solomon in my google docs. I thought it was a WIP but then I re-read it and it turns out I actually finished it and somehow forgot about it? Like...how does someone even do that. Anyway, do we want a smutty Solomon Xmas-in-March fic? (It's only holiday-ish because of a corny mistletoe joke on his part.)

On a random note, part of me regrets not making separate blogs for AT and my OCs (for organizational purposes) and I'm lowkey tempted to do it anyway.

If you read all this, you get a prize! Enjoy some chibis that I've been collecting like they're for my OC Pokedex. These are by sempa and ocha respectively.

#jes.replies

[nightingaelic]

Since I’ve seen you also do fallout 4 Reacts, how about this, romanced fallout 4 companions react to synth Shaun calling the mom/dad

They had known, going into this thing they shared with Vault 111's sole survivor, that the road to a happy ending wasn't going to be easy. Love was already hard enough to navigate, even without the person on the receiving end being a pre-war relic, a figurehead of the Commonwealth, and number one most wanted on multiple factions' bounty lists. Those moments of peace they managed to snatch were fleeting, but they teased of greater things, and when their fingers and the sole survivor's intertwined atop the roof of Mass Fusion as the Institute crumbled into the Charles River below, they selfishly wondered if this meant a newfound freedom for their relationship.

Then came Shaun. Pure, naive, starry-eyed Shaun, who looked up at the sole survivor with the sweetest smile and gifted them the saddest holotape, who held out his arms for one person only and folded inward if left with anyone else. He confounded everyone, not just the sole survivor's chosen partner, but it didn't matter. His remaining parent held him close during the darkest hours, told him stories and sang him lullabies until he stopped shaking and slept. It was on one of these late nights that the sole survivor's companion resolved to do right by both of them, no matter what it took, and pressed a gentle kiss into the crown of the sleeping boy's head.

Cait: "You envy him," the sole survivor said quietly the next morning as they watched Shaun skip ahead on the road to Diamond City.

Cait swallowed. "I do," she admitted. "I've told you what my own parents were like. When I look at you, I can't help but notice every last little thing they didn't do. Everything you are doing, with him. He's damn lucky, and he doesn't even know it. Then there's me, and kids... All the ones I spent time around were just as broken as I was, older souls than they deserved to be. He won't ever know that kind of fear, and I'm fucking glad of it, but it also means I can't talk to him."

"Well, you have to start somewhere. But I get it." The sole survivor pulled her in by the waist and kissed her. "I love you, Cait. I can't tell you not to feel sad about the way things worked out- just don't take it out on him. He's been through a lot, too."

Cait rolled her eyes when they weren't looking, certain that she was always going to be the distant, red-headed stepmother to Shaun's actual parent, but her moment came sooner than expected. Batty old Moe Cronin was still hawking his baseball gear in Diamond City's town square, beckoning to anyone who wandered too close. "Swatters, right here!" he called as the sole survivor and their little family passed by, clearly aware that Shaun had perked up his ears. "Don't let down the home team! Why, even kids will appreciate a swatter in their hands, when they're traveling the Commonwealth!"

"No thanks, Moe," the sole survivor said, waving the salesman off. "He's still a little young for that kind of sport."

"I disagree," Cait cut in, putting a defiant hand on her hip. "Best to start him young, else he won't know what he's doing until it's too late."

Shaun looked between his two guardians. "Please?" he begged the sole survivor. "Mom's okay with it."

Cait could've melted, right then and there in the marketplace. Before the sole survivor had a chance to answer, she'd turned back to Moe, fumbling for her caps. "That one," she said, pointed at a lighter model splashed with indigo paint. "Seems about the right size."

Moe took it down from his display wall and presented it to the boy. "A genuine model, there. Perfect for a first-time owner. You take good care of her, kid."

Cait pulled the boy close to her hip and ruffled his hair. "He'd better. I was planning on using those caps to buy us Power Noodles."

Shaun smiled and closed his eyes as he hugged the baseball bat close. "Thanks, mom."

Curie: Although her educational modules had only been installed for the purpose of making her a better laboratory assistant in Vault 81, Curie still had the full knowledge repository of a Miss Nanny robot to draw upon stored up in her new synthetic brain. Caring for a 10-year-old boy meant following clear developmental guidelines and standards, and she set about writing a rough curriculum for him so as to give him some semblance of schooling while he wandered the Commonwealth with his guardians.

To her delight, Curie found Shaun to be especially receptive to her lessons. He was very interested in biology and history, perhaps because of the obvious blind spots that came with spending his early life inside the Institute. He wanted to know everything there was to know about the mutated creatures that walked the wasteland, coloring in the pictures of radstags and deathclaws and bloatflies alike in Curie's battered notebook as she sketched them. For history, though, Curie had to turn to those around her. The most recent history of the Commonwealth could be found with the sole survivor, who had spent most of their post-vault life at the center of it. Further accounts came from Preston Garvey thanks to his experience with the Minutemen, and Piper Wright and Nick Valentine had quite a bit more in their extensive periodical and case records. Even Paladin Danse pitched in, offering a rather thorough recollection of the Brotherhood of Steel's history on both coasts of North America and in between that left Shaun playing at being a Scribe for over a week.

Shaun's best subject, though, was language. He had an adequate grasp of English, but he began to press Curie early on to teach him French. She added it in between her other lessons, until they could carry on basic conversations. "Pourquoi vouliez-vous apprendre le français?" Curie asked him one day when it was just the two of them, curious. "Oui, ç'est une belle langue, but it is not especially common in the Commonwealth."

Shaun smiled. "Parce que ça nous appartient, maman."

"Maman?" Curie smiled back. "I did not teach you that word."

"You did," Shaun insisted, crawling into her lap to hug her. "Oui, maman, you did."

Curie ended the lesson early and gave him her pencil and notebook to draw pictures in. When the sole survivor returned that evening from their trade excursion, she presented them with the piece of art he had made, depicting the three travelers locked in battle with a mirelurk queen. The sole survivor looked over it with a smile, ran a thumb over the words he'd scribbled next to Curie's blazing laser rifle. "'Ma maman,'" they read with a grin, drawing her into a one-armed hug. "Congratulations, mom."

Paladin Danse: "I'm a liability to you," Danse argued with the sole survivor the next day, as they packed their things to hit the road again. "To both of you. You know what will happen if a Brotherhood patrol recognizes me."

"So wear this." The sole survivor tossed him a ratty shawl and a red bandanna. "Cover your face. Plenty of people do, in these parts."

"And if they recognize my voice?" Dance argued. "Only the greenest Initiates would be fooled by a disguise this thin."

"You're giving the Brotherhood too much credit." The sole survivor straightened up from organizing their pack. "Just let me do the talking and try not to worry."

"Easier said than done," Danse grumbled, picking up their wasteland fashion offerings with obvious distaste.

They were ready to go by noon, the sole survivor's pack slung over their shoulder and Shaun's hand firmly grasped in theirs. Danse brought up the rear as they crossed the bridge out of Sanctuary, and he tugged the bandanna around his neck up to cover his face once they reached the other side of the river.

When Shaun next turned back, distracted by some dry branches creaking together overhead, he giggled in surprise. "Why are you wearing that?" he asked, pointing to the bandanna.

"It's not safe," Danse grunted, lowering his laser rifle a little.

"But why does that help keep you safe?"

The sole survivor reached down to ruffle their son's hair. "It's a little hard to explain, Shaun. Some people out here don't like Danse. He's trying to hide his face from them, so they don't know it's him."

"But there's no one here," Shaun insisted, throwing his arms out to indicate the barren landscape and its silence.

"Well, you never know," Danse said, taking the bait. "Come here. Look at that tree. That big one, see it? I'd say it's wide enough to hide a man behind it. Maybe even a raider or two, if they're skinny."

"What about that one?" Shaun asked, pointing to a larger tree.

Danse nodded solemnly. "Three raiders. Easily."

He winked at the sole survivor, who was stifling their giggles. Shaun, who was staring open-mouthed at the trees, missed it. "Can I have one too, dad?" the boy asked, tugging Danse's sleeve.

"One of what?" Danse replied, unable to keep his voice from cracking.

"A bandanna." Shaun looked up at him with a smile. "We can hide together."

Danse, lost, looked helplessly to the sole survivor. Without a word, they pulled a navy blue bandanna from their pack and handed it over. Danse knelt down and carefully tied the cloth around Shaun's face. "There you go, soldier," he said when he was finished, and the words felt softer in his mouth than any of the other times he'd said them.

Mayor John Hancock: Though he was brave enough to risk a little affection after the kid was asleep, Hancock gave Shaun plenty of space during the waking hours. He wasn't blind to the way some people looked at him. Most kids stared.

Shaun wasn't any different in that aspect, but the fact that this red-coated, tricorn-bedecked ruin of a man was keeping his parent company proved too much for his curiosity. Once the stage of open-mouthed, morbid fascination had passed, Shaun's face grew more contemplative. He started to watch closely as Hancock did basic things. Eat. Sleep. Tie some cloth over a wound. Brush his teeth. He didn't seem embarrassed when Hancock made it obvious these attentions were noticed by waggling his brows or pulling funny faces in the middle of a meal- he just looked like he was filing the information away in his head. He wasn't immune to Hancock's infectious humor though, and he eventually started to giggle and make faces back. The sole survivor rolled their eyes at the pair of them, but Hancock egged them on until they, too, succumbed to the silliness.

When the trio paid their first visit to Goodneighbor and people on the street began to greet Hancock as "mayor," Shaun's eyes grew as wide as Port-A-Diner saucers. Hancock relished the attention, stopped in at every trading stall and tipped his hat to every vagabond they passed. Though Shaun kept a tight hold of his parent's hand, it was obvious he was a little lost between the attention that the sole survivor and the returning town leader were receiving. Things came to a head when a crowd gathered around the travelers and Shaun's grip on the sole survivor's hand was jostled loose. As would-be admirers moved in and separated them, Shaun's voice was thin and high under the boisterous conversations. "Ha-Han... dad!"

"Whoa." Hancock threw his arms out, pushed the crowd back. "Give us some space, folks. Yeah, you, back up or I'll sic Fahrenheit on you."

Shaun was clinging to his leg, and he relaxed a little as Hancock lifted him up to eye level with the adults. Hancock puffed with the effort. The kid was heavier than he looked. "Now this here," he said, grunting as he re-positioned the boy on his hip, "Is Shaun. He's with me."

"Is he yours, Hancock?" teased Rufus Rubins from somewhere in the crowd.

"As good as," Hancock replied proudly. He looked at Shaun and smiled. "It's okay, kid. I've got you."

When the boy smiled back at him shyly, Hancock plopped his tricorn onto the boy's head. "Ever thought about becoming a deputy mayor?" he asked. "Don't worry. It's a pretty easy job."

Robert Joseph MacCready: More than anything, MacCready wondered if he was being fair. He'd just gotten his own son back, and Duncan's renewed presence in his life was a constant reminder of just how much he'd missed. How long had it been, since he'd left his little boy with friends and trudged north, hoping against hope that he'd find a cure for the illness that wracked his little frame? How many pounds had he put on since he'd sent the miracle medicine home? How many inches had he grown, how many questions had he missed? He couldn't help but marvel at this little boy who was so big now, so much like Lucy and so much like him.

Shaun was older, Shaun was quieter, and Shaun was watching every time MacCready felt the need to pause, staring at his own little creation in awe. He knew it. He started consciously doing the same for Shaun, just so he wouldn't feel left out, and to his surprise, taking the extra time meant he noticed things he initially hadn't. The way he looked warily at the settlements they visited, searching for hiding spots to retreat to. The way his eyes gleamed in the light of his parent's Pip-Boy, entranced by the holotape games they collected. The way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, the way he pronounced certain words, the way he tied his shoes and drew his letters and grabbed his guardians' hands when he was scared. Yes, Shaun was a miniature sole survivor in countless ways, but there was a little bit of MacCready in the way he approached the wasteland.

MacCready began to mix them up, Duncan and Shaun, and they laughed and corrected him and teased him to no end along with the sole survivor. It only made him smile wider. They were between Bunker Hill and Goodneighbor one day, playing "I spy" as they passed through the ruined city, when Duncan picked a rather obvious target for the guessing game. "I spy with my little eye... something that is... green."

"The water," the sole survivor guessed, pointing toward the Charles River. Duncan shook his head emphatically.

"It better not be a super mutant," MacCready said, only mildly concerned. The streets had been quiet for their entire trip.

"Dad's hat," Shaun guessed.

The sole survivor and MacCready stopped in their tracks. MacCready's hand went to his cap. Duncan nodded and giggled, and he squirmed with joy when his dad plopped the hat in question onto his head.

MacCready swept Shaun up into his arms. Shaun looked at him, wide-eyed, unused to the overt affection. "What?"

The sniper cocked an eyebrow at him. "Dad?"

"Yeah."

MacCready planted a scratchy kiss on the boy's cheek, reveling in the shriek of surprise it elicited. "Okay," he said with pride. "We do look alike."

"We do not."

Piper Wright: It was a promise that Piper had made once before, after her dad had been murdered and she'd been left the sole caretaker for her little sister. She and Nat had managed to navigate their new roles eventually, eked out a living in Diamond City and grown together as best they could. Piper had settled into something that wasn't quite sisterhood, parenthood, friendship or work partnership, and yet encompassed all of the above. The sole survivor had fit into that life alongside her fairly well, what with their transient inclinations, responsibilities to their associates, and being a lightning rod for Commonwealth intrigue, but Shaun presented a new challenge.

"Diamond City's the best place for him," Piper insisted to the sole survivor any chance she got. They were at Home Plate for now, but the wasteland wanderer had that look in their eye that suggested they were growing restless, unsure of their safety and the safety of their child. "There's a school, there's food, running water and a security force and oodles of people who dote on him just because he's a kid in the wasteland with manners, which is a rarity nowadays."

They always looked at her sadly. "A synth kid, Piper. People will notice eventually."

"So what? Nick's a synth, Diamond City got used to him!"

"We need to go soon, Piper, for his sake. It'll be okay."

"Stay, Blue."

The pair went around in circles like that whenever they got a spare moment, saying it every different way but getting nowhere. They were in the middle of one of these arguments when they were interrupted by Nat and Shaun, who blew into the little house with a gust of wind, rain, and flapping newspaper pages. The two kids had their arms locked at the elbows and were giggling wildly, but they stopped short when they saw the way their respective guardians were talking. "Is everything okay?" Nat asked warily.

"Yeah," Piper answered quickly, hiding her expression by removing her cap to scratch her head. The sole survivor had other ideas, and took this moment as an opportunity. They got down on one knee and took Shaun's hands in theirs. "Shaun, buddy, we need... I need to go on a trip. For a while. Do you want to come with me?"

Shaun's eyes flicked between them and Piper, uncertain. "Are mom and Nat coming, too?" he asked.

Nat's eyes widened and Piper's heart leapt into her throat. The sole survivor choked on their words, and tears welled up in the corners of their eyes. They looked up at Piper, their apology plain on their face. "She- we-"

Piper dove in, wrapped Shaun in a hug and twirled him up in her ratty coat. He laughed, surprised, and the reporter beamed down at him.

When the two had ceased their little dance, Piper turned back to the sole survivor and helped them up off the rug. "Come on, Blue," she said, giving them a kiss on the cheek. "We're being stupid. Let's talk this out like a family. Nat and Shaun deserve to know what's up."

Preston Garvey: Preston had thanked his lucky stars several times over the last few months that the sole survivor had risen to the challenge of becoming General of the Minutemen, but now he found himself continually second-guessing that decision. As they pursued the Institute across the Commonwealth, unearthed horrific truth after horrific truth, he'd grieved their spouse and child with them and thrown himself into the work of rebuilding the Minutemen to help them fill that void of loss. He hadn't expected, at the end of things, that the Institute would leave them something else to help fill the void - and now, looking at Shaun, Preston couldn't help but blame himself for centering the sole survivor and leaving them with responsibilities that got in the way of caring for the boy.

So Preston did what he could. When the General was in talks with traders to negotiate caravan protections at the Castle, he took Shaun walking along the shores of Dorchester Bay, hunting for mirelurk eggs. When the General was away from Sanctuary helping settlements, he tucked Shaun into bed at night and read him stories from a worn book of fables that Sturges had bought off of Trashcan Carla. When the General came home late looking like they'd crawled through a yao guai den on their stomach, he hung up their coat, pushed them into the shower, and made dinner with Codsworth while Shaun supervised and decided whether it needed more salt.

"I don't deserve you," the sole survivor said gratefully each time.

"You do," Preston always reassured them. "You both do."

Shaun was less quick to appreciate Preston's care, but slowly he warmed up to the General's right-hand man. He remembered the best spots for picking raspberries that they found together, he started to request tales about the Minutemen as his bedtime stories, and whenever Codsworth asked him about his day, he would shyly look to Preston before relating their adventures together. It was slow going, but each time the boy looked at his parent's partner, there was less and less hesitancy.

One night after a particularly long day on the road, Preston and Shaun were pinching together some ground mole rat potstickers for soup while the sole survivor washed up. Shaun had a case of the giggles and kept leaving floury fingerprints on his own face, which Preston kept trying and failing to wipe off with a kitchen towel. As Shaun fought off another of these attempts, amidst his happy laughter, he pushed the towel away and shrieked, "Dad, stooooop!"

Preston froze. In the bathroom, something clattered to the floor. Even Codsworth paused chopping vegetables to swivel his eye stalks toward the kitchen table. Shaun made a face. "What?"

Gently, Preston put his thumb over one of the flour spots on Shaun's face and rubbed it away. He tousled the boy's hair and chuckled. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Save the razorgrain flour for the dumplings, buddy, okay?"

Porter Gage: Even compared to everything else in Nuka-World, Porter Gage knew he was the rustiest piece of equipment in the park. Well, everyone in Nuka-World was an antique of some sort, hanging onto a bygone or kitted out in tattered costume from days gone by - hell, the Overboss was practically a pre-war collectible - but Gage felt stiff and dusty, even compared to them. He was old, for a raider. Raiders didn't get old. There was safety in being overlooked because of your age and lack of ambition, but it sure didn't make you interesting to the average kid.

Eventually though, that ability to be overlooked came out in Gage's favor, when it came to Shaun. Shaun was an oddity in the park. Anyone who was stuck firmly to the side of the Overboss was an oddity, but beyond that, Shaun was a kid. Raiders didn't get old, and they definitely didn't have kids if they could help it. Most of the gangs were respectful to the Overboss and their kiddo, but when they'd passed out of earshot, they talked. A liability. A loose end. Not even human, a few of them said.

Gage didn't say anything, but he did listen, and he did tell his partner what the situation was when Shaun was asleep for the night. When they had him pressed against the wall of Fizztop Grille's reception, he spun them ideas about what to do until they told him to shut up or rendered him speechless themselves. Honestly, that told him everything he needed to know. They were at a loss for what to do about the kid, too.

If he'd been a younger man, maybe Gage could've let things play themselves out. But he wasn't, so he took the boy under his wing. He gave him his best knife and his second-best pistol and taught him how to use both on the prop cutouts in Dry Rock Gulch. He taught him how to move silently through the overgrowth of Safari Adventure. He taught him the best places to check for supplies in abandoned towns, on one particularly memorable afternoon in Bradberton, when Shaun shot his first feral and only cried for a little bit afterward.

"It's alright, kid," Gage reassured him, rubbing his shoulder while Shaun tried to calm his hiccups. "They don't know themselves anymore. There's no going back. You did him a kindness."

"Doesn't feel like it," Shaun sniffled.

Suddenly, the boy turned into Gage's shoulder, hugged him awkwardly around the metal mess of his armor. "I'm not any good at this like you, dad. I'm sorry."

Gage closed his eyes for a moment. Against his better judgment, he unbuckled his armor, put his arm around Shaun and pulled him into his chest. "No one's good at first, kiddo. But I'll be here until you are. Promise."

BONUS!

Deacon: Though Deacon would never admit it, Shaun terrified Deacon. He'd wanted a kid at some point, obviously, but that version of himself seemed so far removed from who he was now. Different place, different face, different circumstances and perspectives. He wasn't sure he could go back to that mindset now.

Much like the sole survivor though, he didn't have a choice. Shaun was here, curiously peeking at the papers on Desdemona's workstation and getting shooed out of Carrington's clinic. At least Tinker Tom was self-aware enough to tone down his swearing and more dangerous experimentation, but Deacon and the sole survivor agreed that the sooner Shaun got out of HQ, the better.

"They're all intimidated by you," Deacon whispered conspiratorially to Shaun on the day they finally packed up their things. "You're the best Railroad agent here, and they all know it."

"Really?" Shaun whispered back. "I thought you were the best Railroad agent here."

"It goes you, me, Desdemona, then your parent," Deacon counted off on his fingers. He shouldered the pack Shaun had stuffed to the brim and groaned. "Oof, you've got a lot of stuff already. That's how I know you're the best agent. You're already hanging onto supplies in case of the worst. Smart."

The sole survivor pulled Shaun into a half-hug, caressing his head. "I still rank under Desdemona, huh?"

Deacon winked. "You're getting there. Come on, we'll go out the back door."

Once the three emerged, blinking, into the North End, Shaun took one of the sole survivor's hands and one of Deacon's. "Where are we going?" he asked.

The sole survivor squinted at the buildings around them. "North," they answered vaguely.

"To a deathclaw farm," Deacon said solemnly. "Where they hatch the little lizards and teach them how to be big, ferocious beasts."

"Deacon."

"Sorry. Just a rad chicken farm that's helped us out once or twice."

Shaun looked up at Deacon. "Are deathclaw farms real, dad?"

Deacon choked on his witty response and fell into a coughing fit. The sole survivor looked shocked too, but a smile came over their face and they slapped him on the back a few times until his lungs quieted down.

"Uh, eh-heh, no, buddy," Deacon answered, gripping the boy's hand a little more firmly. "But you know what they say: Be the change you want to see in the world. If you want to go all-in on deathclaw farming, I'm right there with you."

Desdemona: Every day after that, Desdemona expected to wake up and find the sole survivor and their son gone. She couldn't leave HQ now, what with the post-Institute clean-up filling all their safehouses and gumming up the usual escape routes, and PAM changing her mind every minute about what predictions were most likely. All of that combined with the general atmosphere of uncertainty around the Railroad's future - what does the Railroad do, when all of the synths that can be rescued have been rescued? - kept her to-do list full and her mind racing. In the past, her busy periods were an invitation for her unlikely partner to depart on their own adventures, check in with things around the Commonwealth that didn't immediately concern the Railroad, and she fully anticipated this from them now that they had a child to care for, too.

But Shaun and the sole survivor stayed. Deacon's finest recruit rolled up their sleeves and joined her at the war table, read her notes back to her and pointed out strategic opportunities, discrepancies, details she might have overlooked. Desdemona was surprised by how well they managed to mesh with her style of leadership. In the past, anyone who had tried to butt in on her planning usually wound up clashing with her, prioritizing in different ways or misunderstanding critical operations they just didn't know the ins and outs of. Somehow, the sole survivor avoided all of these pitfalls and slid right into the fray next to her.

Shaun was less helpful than his parent, prone to doodling on less-important papers and humming along with the songs on Diamond City Radio, but his quiet presence was company enough. While the sole survivor was still catching up on the sleep they'd lost burying the Institute, Shaun seemed content to remain at Desdemona's side late into the night, watching her work.

It was on one of these late evenings, after all of the agents except the night watch had gone to bed, that Shaun let out a yawn as wide as the Charles River and blinked sleepily up at the Railroad leader. "Mom, I'm tired."

Desdemona paused her dead drop status review and looked down at him with a surprised smile. "I've got to stay up, Shaun. This is important."

"But I'm tired."

"Okay." Desdemona put her pencil down and picked him up. He was heavy, but not so heavy that she wasn't able to carry him to the cots in the back and deposit him gently next to the sole survivor. The movement was enough to wake them, and they pulled the boy in close and wrapped him in some of their blanket. Desdemona tucked them in and went back to the glow of the lanterns with the sound of Shaun's words ringing in her ears.

Elder Arthur Maxson: The Squires on the Prydwen tried to adopt the new boy into their number, of course, but to the sole survivor's dismay, Shaun's odd remarks about "life on the surface" soon labeled him as an outcast. The boy turned even further inward, befriending an odd group of individuals: Scribe Haylen, Paladin Brandis, Senior Scribe Neriah, Emmett the cat. All of them were kind and patient with Shaun, but none of them were exactly peers.

"I don't suppose you could order the Squires to be nicer to him," the sole survivor remarked with a hint of bitterness during one of their visits to the Elder's quarters.

"Let him find his own way," Maxson replied kindly. "If I interfere, they will only resent him for it."

It felt harsher when he said it out loud, but the sole survivor respected his judgment. Still, Maxson couldn't help but recall his own difficult childhood spent searching for friendship, for anyone who might see him as a person instead of a future Elder. When he next had free time, he visited Proctor Quinlan's library of holotapes and came away with a stack of games and transcribed books.

Later that evening, the sole survivor walked into their quarters to find Maxson and Shaun on the bed with their Pip-Boy, Maxson cheering the boy on as he navigated his band of adventurers through a dungeon level in Grognak & the Ruby Ruins. "Go left," Maxson urged. "There's a treasure chest down that hallway."

"How do you know?" Shaun asked, screwing his mouth up in concentration as he input the commands.

"I've been playing this game since before you were alive. See, in the corner over there."

The sole survivor joined them on the bed. "Watch out for goblins."

"Oh, dad showed me how to fight them off already."

Maxson stiffened, and looked quickly over Shaun's head at the sole survivor. Their eyes widened meaningfully, and they tilted their head down toward their son. "Did he show you the goblin village yet?"

Shaun looked up at Maxson. "There's a goblin village?"

"There... there is." Maxson swallowed his misgivings for the moment and directed his attention back to the game. He put an arm around the boy and tilted the Pip-Boy so he could see a little better. "Let's get through this dungeon together first."

Nick Valentine: To Nick's surprise, Shaun warmed up to him fast. He wasn't put off by his missing parts, his glowing eyes or the occasional whirring noises that emanated from inside his chest cavity like most kids. In fact, he liked to press his ear up to Nick's shirt and listen, trying to figure out what the noise was. "It's like your heartbeat," he always said.

"What's it saying?" Nick would ask. Shaun would imitate whatever noise he was hearing, and they would both laugh.

"He grew up around synths," the sole survivor reminded Nick when they were alone. "Er... well, he's been around synths for as long as he's... you get my meaning."

Nick raised his cup of tea to them. "I do. I'm just so used to kids being wary. It's a nice change of pace. How's he doing in class?"

"Great in science and math, horrible at spelling. He could use some practice that isn't just me peering over his shoulder, you know how he hates doing schoolwork if he can't relate it to the real world. Is there any way you could...?"

Nick held up his metal hand. "You don't even need to ask. I'll get him to help Ellie take notes on some cases."

The sole survivor smiled. "How's Ellie's spelling?"

"Impeccable."

A few days later, the little family was ensconced in Nick's office with Ellie poring over a case that had come in from Vault 81 about a missing person. Ellie had given Shaun his own clipboard and pencil, and the pair were scribbling furiously while Nick went over everything that had been written in the letter from the vault's overseer, Gwen McNamara. "Says here that she might have gone to seek her fortune with one of the local caravans," Nick noted. "If she hitched a ride with one, she might have paid them to cover her tracks, but it'd still be worth paying a visit to Bunker Hill to see if they've seen her. Shaun, do you know how to spell 'investigate'?"

"I-N-V-E-S-T-A-G-A-T-E," Shaun answered confidently.

"It's 'I' after T, not 'A'," Ellie corrected him.

"Oh." Shaun deflated a bit. "Sorry, dad."

Ellie dropped her pencil and the sole survivor choked on the Nuka-Cola they were drinking. Nick lowered the letter, perplexed, but when he caught the shy look on Shaun's face, he couldn't contain a grin of pride. "It's okay, son," he said. "We'll keep practicing together, okay? We've got nothing but time."

Old Longfellow: "The island's no place for a child," Longfellow told the sole survivor when they first brought the boy to the docks of Far Harbor.

"You wanted one, once," they had retorted, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and planting a kiss on his bearded face. "Were you planning to leave, once you'd had the baby?"

"That was different. Wasn't as bad then as it is now."

"Take us back to your cabin on your sand bar, old man. Shaun and I are survivors. And if it gets worse, we'll get on my boat and go back to the Commonwealth."

So Old Longfellow rowed them home to his shack under the pines, and he double- and triple-checked the fog condensers he'd bought off the scientists at Acadia. Shaun followed him around, taking in the little island's woods, beach, and craggy landscape with a pair of eyes wider than a mirelurk's shell. This relationship continued for well over a month: Daily excursions to check the traps and mechanical equipment that kept them all from dying, weekly trips into town to trade and stock up, and the occasional trudge down to the beach to see if anything interesting had washed up. Sometimes the sole survivor remained behind, skinning a radstag or shucking oysters, leaving the old man and the boy to their daily chores outside in the chilling sea breeze. On one of these occasions, Longfellow was making his way toward the wood pile he'd been stocking up and didn't realize that Shaun wasn't right behind him as usual. He might never have noticed, if he hadn't caught the quiet word on the wind at his back: "Dad."

Longfellow spun and found Shaun frozen, staring at the edge of the woods. Staring back was a radstag, glowing faintly from internal radiation, with only one head and pair of antlers.

It was a ways off, but Longfellow still moved to grab the boy and pull him out of harm's way. The movement startled the creature and it huffed before alighting into the trees, its tail flying a warning as it bounded off. Longfellow pulled Shaun close and sighed, trying to catch his breath again. "Stay close, boy."

"They all used to look like that," Shaun replied softly, watching the deer's retreat. "I never thought I'd see one without two."

"Rare as hen's teeth," Longfellow agreed. "Must be our lucky day."

X6-88: X6-88 knew that technically, his role with the director was a protection assignment, but excursions to the surface and a growing trust between them had blossomed into something else. He also knew that technically, Shaun was an assignment too, one that Father had bestowed upon the sole survivor just before his death. In the safety of their Institute quarters though, they could be something more to each other. They could talk about what it was to be a synth, to live apart from the world at large, and what within their little underground haven could be changed for the betterment of something beyond mankind.

He and the sole survivor were cautious at first to talk about these sorts of things around Shaun, but the synth boy soon proved bright enough to understand the dangers of self in this place, be they realization, expression, or actualization. "It's not fair," Shaun would say at dinner. "I want to become a scientist. I want to grow up. And I can't even talk about it anywhere else."

"We're working on it," the sole survivor always said. "Dr. Li and I have some ideas. You won't always be a child, Shaun."

X6 knew that they were doing their best, but they were hiding the fact that Dr. Li had pushed back on the project multiple times. She'd believed the synth child was a waste of time and effort from the beginning, and extending that effort would take more than just a few ideas from the sole survivor. He knew they would keep trying, but it would never be fast enough for a 10-year-old boy. And every step they took toward that goal would bring the scrutiny of the Directorate, some of whom were eager to find any reason to discredit the brand-new upstart that had passed them up to lead the Institute.

"We should leave," X6 suggested as he lay in bed next to the sole survivor after another night like this. "Before it's too late."

"We can't," they replied in a whisper. "They don't have the tech on the surface to help Shaun, and we have so much we could offer the rest of the world. If we leave, we'll never see this place again."

"It would be difficult, but we would be together."

"Just give me a little more time, X6. Please."

The Courser lay awake long after the director had gone to sleep, trying and failing to come up with a better plan. As such, he was still awake when Shaun stole into bed with them, rubbing tears from his face with his little hands. X6 settled the boy in between himself and the sole survivor and wiped the rest of the tears away with the sheet.

"I had a bad dream, dad," Shaun explained, sniffling. "I've been having them a lot."

X6 didn't have the heart to correct the child. "I know," he said instead. "I've been having them too. Dreams can't hurt you, Shaun. If they try, I'll protect you."

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 companions #fallout art #fo4 companions react #fallout 4 companions react #12 days of ficmas #love in the wasteland

[system-of-a-feather]

this probably isn't what you meant when you said people could ask you about late stage recovery stuff, but i really have no idea where/who else to ask, so i hope this is okay

so i relate a lot to how people describe their own experiences with functional multiplicity (and to some degree final fusion as well, but to a lesser degree), but i've never been in any kind of actual treatment for anything. i'm not sure if i could have DID or another dissociative disorder at all (they aren't really seen as real by psych professionals in my country, so can't be assessed), but i know i experience myselves as more than one and people i've discussed it with irl don't really understand it at all.

so i was wondering if maybe you had any thoughts to what that could be..? i doubt it could be DID since no treatment and if i even have ptsd it's very mild, but i also know my experiences aren't normal and i haven't seen anyone but late stage recovery DID systems describe anything similar

i hope it is ok to ask, you seem knowledgeable and i have no idea where else to ask. thank you for reading

I might be saying a bit of an unpopular opinion to the online community here and might get shot in the foot for it (unfortunately, but I don't care really) but I don't think you have to pathologize it if you don't find benefit to it.

What I mean is largely just that it doesn't have to inherently be DID or a dissociative disorder to experience yourself as more than one and if you aren't experiencing distress from it, there is no real need to put a medical label on it. There is a lot of rhetoric about complex dissociative disorders being the only real way to experience one's self as more than one because DID is almost exclusively seen as a result of trauma - but that's just not true if SOLELY on the fact that the experience of being one or many in a largely subjective experience and a way of how one likes to look at themselves.

There is no real valid way to accurately measure "perception of multiple selves" because biological approaches ignore the actual and practical reports of individuals and self reports ignore the real biological underpinnings of things like DID and all. And thats a lot of jargon to say "No real study can properly examine the whole breath of human experiences across cultures and biological backgrounds through all research perspectives" and just that you really shouldn't sweat people saying XYZ is unscientific cause BOTH sides will say that and BOTH sides are equally right and wrong depending on your research perspective.

That said, if it is causing you distress or posing you problems, I do strongly recommend talking about it with a therapist. Yeah some can be a bit rough around the edges and the overall mental health system still kinda sucks, but really any therapist you can develop a good rapport with should be able to help you navigate it all from the place you currently are.

Either way, (and I apologize if this is a bit disorganized, I'm in the car and my fiance is sometimes talking to me as I type so it breaks my train of thought) my personal opinion and thought on the matter is that unless its causing you distress, I don't think you really need to stress about what exactly the "not normal" experience is cause "not normal"...

1) Doesn't exist cause "normal" doesn't really exist and the concept of normality, in my opinion, does little other than promote conformity and shame. (Plus in America its used to push white colonizer perspective and ideas on more subjective things like gender, experiences of self etc; experiencing yourself as more than one is actually not entirely abnormal in some cultures and I'd argue that as a Buddhist, experiencing yourself as more than one is an uncommon but absolutely normal experience)

2) Your experiences aren't defined by the labels and research of other people. Your experiences are defined inherently by how you experience them and labels are there to serve to describe you experiences, not the other way around. Same thing goes for research. Research exists to explain odd phenomenon, not to tell people that their experiences are wrong. Research should adapt to include things that don't fit in, not demands that said outliers change to fit the model / theory.

3) As long as there is held respect that your experiences of being more than one might not be the same as someone whose experiences of being more than one comes from complex trauma and/or a complex dissociative disorder, then I see little harm in just, ya know, existing as you naturally do.

I am hesitant to say "endogenic / plurality community might help you find similar people and navigate finding a label if that is important to you" cause I don't actually interact too much with the community myself and I have heard about some toxicity from there (don't touch sophie or cambrian), but I think it could be helpful with some caution.

Anyways, I am having trouble organizing my thoughts cause Im in the car and all so I'll leave it here. Feel free to ask away if you want to add anything or need clarification on my thoughts on this or whatever.

#alter: fei #syscourse #syscourse tw #ask #asks #advice

[burntheedges]

Happy one year anniversary!!!

📜fic rec - Arthur x Eames, if you please. Any rating, it can be smutty as you like, but it doesn't have to be. I don't mind angst, but prefer them being glorious antagonistic horny idiots about / for each other.

thank you!! 🥰 I cannot tell you how much I love this request. 🧡 ok I have 151 bookmarks of this pairing, so I have narrowed it down 😂 but if you want more... I have them!

...

some favs:

I've Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York) by gyzym, rated T, 18k

Arthur's a corporate lawyer, Eames owns the coffee shop across the street, and all good love stories start with a quadruple shot latte.

Note: this is my favorite and I already recced it to Kat but I'm doing it again anyway

In Our Line of Work by enjambament, rated T, 15.7k

Arthur wakes up and realizes the last ten years of his life have been a dream. He is nineteen, and he can barely remember where he is. What he can remember is the ghost of Eames’ hands pressed down on his chest trying frantically to stop the blood flooding up around his fingers as Arthur died (as he woke up). Note: a little angsty but one of my absolute favs

Laying Claim by laceymcbain, rated M, 12k

“Arthur, you've rung me at 2:30 in the bloody morning from Soho where you appear to be on a street corner and shirtless, possibly drugged. I've no doubt you're capable of handling yourself under normal circumstances, but drunken blokes aren't always the most understanding sort, especially when you're not actually selling what you look like you're selling.” Note: a lot of hurt/comfort in this one BUT they are being idiots for sure

Incipit by thehoyden, rated E, 8.5k

Arthur has been his editor from the beginning. Eames says he won't work with anyone else, and what Arthur will never tell him is that he would cut anyone who tried.

The Domestic Verse series by gyzym, overall rated E, 74.8k

first work: between my reflex & my resolve, 4.7k, rated T People you kiss in an airport baggage claim and then don't talk to for thirteen months shouldn't be able to exist, let alone make your chest do the things Arthur's chest is doing. There are rules.

The One Where They're Stars on HGTV by earlgreytea68, overall rated M, 466k

first work: Fixer-Upper, rated T, 8.7k Have you ever seen "Love It or List It"? In which Arthur is the real estate agent and Eames is the designer. Note: I admit I haven't read every work in this very long series, but it's very fun. and they are def being idiots lol

and some other ones I haven't read in a while but remember liking a lot:

The Kind You Could Sing by foxxcub, rated T, 7.4k

Eames turns to him during a simple blueprint discussion and says casually, “You settled late, didn’t you?” Or, an Inception/His Dark Materials fusion fic.

Jamais Vu by thehoyden, rated E, 6.7k

"I'm not sure what this is supposed to prove," Arthur temporizes.

Give Me the Number (if you can find it) by ifeelbetter, not rated but I'd guess T, 5.1k

Arthur and Eames accidentally switch phones in Bruges. In the few days between them realizing it and finally returning them, they each discover something unexpected about the other.

I bet Nureyev never had to deal with this shit. by cobweb_diamond, rated T, 21.4k

Modern-day AU. Arthur is a ballet dancer recovering from a serious injury, and is lucky enough to land the role of Oberon in Dom Cobb's reimagining of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

What's a Little Contract Hit Between Friends? by laceymcbain, rated T, 5.9k

“Darling, I know we've had our differences, but did you put out a contract on my life?” Arthur (accidentally) puts out a hit on Eames.

followers celebration

#bte600 #ask me anything #arthur/eames #dream husbands #fic rec

[siriannatan]

I can't draw, but I do love the vigilante sheriff au by @rhapsoddity

I'm also quite fond of the very entertaining combination of Scott, Jimmy and fWhip so I wrote a little short story :}

(it's a Tumblr exclusive :})

Scott was not too thrilled about having been saved by some rookie villain he's never heard about. He could handle the Sheriff and Stratos on his own, thank you very much. Not to mention how much his arm hurt now - not the newbie's fault but no less annoying. And there was a nasty bruise from when he tried to remove his mask. Even if he looked like a string bean under his leather jacket Tinkerer was quite strong. And knew how to avoid his hypnosis. Dangerous.

There were upsides to the situation. No, it was not Xornoth cackling at him whenever the news mentioned the new villain and a picture of Scott, in his full Spectrum outfit, in Tinkerer's arms. The good thing was that he was carried off like a princess by a potentially handsome man. Tinkerer's whole face was covered with some sort of gas mask and biking helmet fusion. And the damned googles with tinting lenses. And even though the voice manipulator he sounded nice. If a bit staticky and mechanic.

All things considered, he'd not mind meeting Tinkerer again. Mostly because unlike with other villains he doubted their goals would conflict too often. And the smoke bombs were cool. He wondered, briefly as he walked to a coffee shop near his house, what else he could make. And if maybe he could watch him one day. Watching a handsome man tinker… He never thought he'd be into the idea of being ignored but lately, he's been discovering a lot about himself.

Like that he hated crowds even more than he thought. The coffee place was packed but not so much there was nowhere to sit. He'd just have to sit with a stranger. Still beat his brother making fun of him. Everyone talking about Tinkerer was a bit of a downer but he was great at ignoring unwelcomed noises.

So, with a coffee in one hand and a plate with a couple waffles covered in whipped cream and fruits and marshmallows and sprinkles he looked for a seat. In a corner, he found an acceptable spot, with a busy maybe college student grumbling at his laptop. "This seat free?" he asked, offering the stranger a sheepish smile when he looked up. He was quite cute, a bit of a nerd type with an oversized red sweater and thick-rimmed glasses. And the prettiest bright blue eyes Scott saw in a while. And very soft, slightly curly, prettiest shade of ginger hair.

"Yeah," he nodded and refocused on whatever he was working on. He sounded tired. But when are college students ever not tired?

"Hard night?" Scott asked, sitting down and hissing when he moved his arm wrong. Damn Stratos for hurling him into a damn wall.

"More like a whole week…" the guy sighed. "Maybe it'll get better once I'm done with this cursed project… Is your arm okay? Seems like it hurts?"

Scott was slightly tempted to hypnotise the cutie to forget it but there were too many people around. "It's not that bad but I'm considering modifying some door frames, they're hard if you stumble and fall into them at midnight," he joked instead. The guy flinched a bit but his lips curled up a bit. "What's the project?" Scott carried on the conversation. He liked ginger's voice, even if it was a bit coarse from lack of sleep.

The guy sighed heavily. "Originally I had three more in my group but they dropped the subject just after the project was assigned so now I've been working alone a whole month on a thirty-minute long game because apparently, I'm masochist…"

"Couldn't you join a different group?" Scott asked sipping his caramel, coconut latte.

"No one else quit, and I prefer it this way, even if it is hard, I would be done if… I said enough…" he suddenly stopped, looking very cute as he looked down at his laptop.

"No. No it's fine, sometimes saying stuff makes if feel better," Scott smiled, he was a curious man by nature and who knew, it might be useful. You never know.

As it turns out cutie's boyfriend broke up with him for no reason last night so he stayed up all night packing his stuff and driving to his sister's apartment, pretty much on the other side of town from his ex's. Instead of finishing the project that was due midnight today… What a jerk of a boyfriend.

"And worst of all, he's not even that pretty," cuties, or fWhip as he introduced himself with one of the cutest, nerdiest smiles ever. "You're a lot cuter, though I do miss the boob window," smirked a smirk Scott saw all morning on TV… He was casually chatting with Tinkerer. And the guy instantly figured him out despite the disguise. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Tinker chuckled at Scott's shocked face.

"How did you even…"

"That's a secret," fWhip grinned closing his laptop. "But I'm done with that and have an apartment to find, I hope we can see each other again soon," he smiled and left Scott with nothing better but nibbling his waffle and glaring at fWhip, Tinkerer, on TV. He really was pretty under that helmet…

#vigilante sheriff au #spectrum #fWhip #scott #my stories #my stuff #fanfic #empires smp #empiresshipping

[cerosin-bis]

Do you have headcanons of krueger/golem ship?(any type of headcanons is welcome)😸💕

I'm so glad you asked, w the fic I've been working on for a few months I've been rotating them in my brain A LOT 😳

Before going on, it may be better to know my Krueger headcanons because their relationship, in the way I envision it, is shaped by it. And again, these are my own hcs but I do love seeing others'. Multiple headcanons coexist in my mind 🙇‍♀️

(I'll post the full drawing sometime later ok)

With that being said. Golem/Krueger headcanons [cero touch]. This got long lol sorry. I hope you like it! ♥

Obligatory: they had a thing in the KSK. There is no way Golem bailed Krueger out of custody 72h after what happened otherwise 😭 No one knew about them.

For Krueger it started out as a FWB thing that became utilitarian (Hans liked him = "Josef" gained everyone's trust in the Platoon, peers and hierarchy alike)

Golem is an affable leader figure, but he's not naive. He felt something was off with "Josef" from the start, and he's virtually the only one within the Platoon who despite their fusional relationship still had reservations in the back of his mind*.

Krueger will never admit it but he's attached, too, in his own way. Golem is the closest thing he's had to anything long-term and they genuinely have good chemistry.

He also harbours a lot of respect for him and his skills. If one asks him about the KSK, he'll say that Golem was the only one in his direct hierarchy worth his esteem - and he means it.

Despite everything and the fact that it's usually very charged, they both seek and enjoy each other's company. When they reunite 2y after the KSK it's blatant they used to be - and still are very close.

They hook up semi-regularly. FWB 2.0.

They talk easily. They know each other's habits and nonverbal language by heart. Their late night convos, whether it is in KSK or in mw19, are akin to therapy for Golem, and feel like home for Krueger. There's a part of nostalgia in it.

Golem is conflicted because... he wanted to cut ties. His brain tells him he should but he can't bring himself to, and it's worsened by the fact that in mw19 Krueger doesn't give him any "reason" to do so because he's just... himself now. Krueger is distinctly aware of this and relishes in the fact that he has an effortless hold on the man.

Yet, Krueger finds a form of familiar tenderness in Golem's company he knows he cannot experience anywhere else because he doesn't need it. Golem is the literal exception. He'll never admit it, but even Golem knows.

It's a win-win situation for both of them because it's not official, never has been, yet it's tangible. And there is no outside liability anymore.

Golem is the literal only person with whom Krueger bottoms most of the time lol. they do switch sometimes.

Bonus: yes they still hookup even if Krueger/Nikto is a thing. In fact, it makes Nikto extremely territorial which is Immense Fun for Krueger

*it's precisely how and why Golem was drawn to him in the first place - I do hc that Golem is attracted to this exact kind of uncertainty. Which is something Krueger knows how to exploit. Golem also helped Krueger escape while not buying into his innocence claims at all.

#kruegergolem #headcanons #ask #this is a bit all over the place but I hope u can feel that I love their dynamic #whenever I am asked about my faves I cannot shut up #call of duty #krueger #golem

[discordantwords]

Hi! I was going through the entire "Alternate Universe — X-Files Fusion" tag and I read your JohnLock fic "Out There." I don't know anything about Sherlock or the pairing itself, but I found your fic to be extremely well-written, and I wanted to express my admiration for your writing through this ask.

Can I ask a few questions related to your writing process? I'm super curious about the behind-the-scenes of your story. How long did it take to write and revise each chapter? What was the most challenging part of writing "Out There"? What POV did you enjoy writing more: John's or Sherlock's? Oh, also, slightly unrelated questions: How long have you been writing fics? What was your first ever fandom? And what are some favorite fics / published novels that left a significant influence on your work?

Sorry in advance for this lengthy ask! I really enjoyed your fic.

Oh, thank you so much! I'm delighted to hear that you enjoyed Out There. It's one of the fics that's nearest and dearest to my heart. X-Files was my first fandom love, and I had a lot of fun merging elements of it with Sherlock.

Out There is sort of an outlier when it comes to my usual writing style. It's by far the longest fic I've ever written, though it only took me about two months to complete. I wrote it as part of the 2016 Sherlock Fall TV Season Challenge (@falltvseasonsherlock), where writers committed to posting "episodes" on a set schedule. Each chapter of Out There was an episode, and I posted once a week. It was a lot of writing on a very tight schedule, I was averaging about 10k words each week (mostly squeezed in in the early mornings before I left for work), which left very little time for revisions.

It was exhausting, if I'm being honest. I'm not normally a fast writer. It can take me years to pick at a story until I think it's in good enough shape to post. But having to pull together something complicated and plotty and long in such a short time period was also a fantastic challenge, and I'm very proud of the end result.

I had pretty thorough outline of the story I wanted to tell, and which elements of the X-Files and Sherlock I wanted to bring in and tie together. Once I realized how long the story was shaping up to be, I immediately cut that outline in half. If I ever get around to writing a sequel, those discarded elements will be the plot threads I pick up.

I liked writing both Sherlock and John for this story, but I've always loved writing Sherlock's POV the most. It's fun to get inside his head a little bit.

I think I mentioned earlier that X-Files was my first fandom, or at least the first fandom I sought out online. It was the late 90s, I was young and shy and didn't really interact much in fandom spaces, but I dove headfirst into fic. I read everything I could get my hands on. My enthusiasm waned in the later seasons, though I tried my hand at writing a few X-Files fics long after the show had gone off the air. Finding Sherlock reignited my passion for fic and fandom in general and I've been playing in this sandbox ever since.

Thanks for reaching out. I'm always happy to talk about the behind-the-scenes stuff. I hope I answered your questions! :)

#behind the scenes #out there #sherlock #x files fusion

[safyresky]

Hello, I need to drop this in here before Season two of TSCS drop kicks me in a few days.

But I've had Fusion Au on the mind. In the brain. And I just frankly wanna know more about it. Whatever other information you can give I will GLADLY take. (Maybe even drop the fusion height chart 👉👈 if it is to be found)

Steven Universe has permanently altered my brain chemistry and I just wanna hear you talk about this silly little au that has been fluttering around lately.

F E L T. I have been hitting the ground RUNNING for Crystal Springs just to give myself decent AC for when the series picks up again (not sure if I'm gonna post the same day of the new episodes or the day AFTER, but New CS will be there to comfort me and maybe others in my our time of need).

I am not ready. I NEVER will be. I hope and pray that the Council isn't butchered, bc if we've got three confirmed Legendary Figures, I can't see us NOT getting the others. Or, maybe it WILL just be Sandy and Cupid and EB 2.0!! But idk. Idk man. Idk. I really want the snowball that gets thrown in Scott's face in the trailer to be courtesy of Jack. I know it won't be. But I fucking WISH and HOPE and AH.

OFF TOPIC!

I have a height chart floating around somewhere, but it is a stick figure doodle, so I will ATTEMPT to give you a proper?? Chart???

I think I said that Berline is about the size of two Elles stacked on top of each other (sitting on her shoulders) so I kinda eyeballed it based on that??? (me retconning so much about heights knowing that I had Berline pick Elle up and seat her in their palm lmao) So here we go, the main line up:

I eyeballed the SHIT out of this??? I may boost them all a whole ass foot lmao but Richard was liek "DANI. SEVEN FEET IS TALL!" and I was like I GUESS.

Also, as an aside??? The height chart site has a 3D one?? That actually disturbed me??? Thank GOD I was able to switch back! If I find the shitty lil stick figure height doodle I will edit to add it. Or reblog to add it, lol. ANYWAY.

Some info, you request? Okay! Let me marinate it in my head and see what I can do throughout the day:

If the entire frost fam fused they'd be called Frost and they'd be a DELIGHT. They don't talk much except for to be polite and they will throw melty molten rock at you at the drop of a hat, so it's a GOOD THING that Jackie doesn't exists when Frost does! Because they WOULD drop their hat on purpose just to see a fire show

Frost probably freezes in place a lot while thinking since there's 6 whole ass sprites in there having a discussion, which is a very funny mental image--just this blob of ice and fire BUFFERING and then suddenly some asshole gets pompeii'd lol

They're very sweet! Very polite. Always say please and thank you!

When Fino and Fiera fuse, Fire is just the opposite of the THERE'S TWO meme. There's ONE. And they are making it YOUR PROBLEM (they also do unfuse in my head very similarly to the THERE'S TWO meme)

Fire is also the most humanoid looking fusion, for sure!

Diteline really likes flower crowns. She will make you a flower crown or a lil grass bracelet if she's left alone with no threats and a bunch of nature. She's a big old sweetie, an absolute delight

Diteline kids, meanwhile, are a pain when they learn about fusion, and incredibly hard to keep track of once they master it. Those three lil buggers will bounce from fusion to fusion, going from helping to causing trouble to wreaking havoc to trying to fix something as simple as "oh shit, mom and mater will be home soon and we DIDN'T CLEAN THE KITCHEN LIKE THEY ASKED"

Inter season squabbles take on a whole new meaning when it's "shoulder season" time, as 9/10 times it's because the two seasons have fused and are still doing their jobs 😂😂

Of all the Frosts, Fino is the least likely to fuse! It's fun but not like, a big deal, y'know? Orc Friend (who's name is, in fact, Ken, and then I saw Barbie and. Well. But I can't not see him with any other name! It's short for Kenothy) was tres relieved about this, had a whole crisis about if they'd have to fuse at all and of course, overthought it in leaps and bounds 🫠🫠🫠

Fiera and Normal Man (His name is Norm bc I am a SUCKER for a PUNNY NAME) probably would equate to the Stevonnie plotline lol. Like, they'd fuse and Fiera would be like "I DIDN'T KNOW ORDIBEINGS COULD DO THAT! WOW!" And they'd be so excited and have a regular time, bc the normal and absolutely unhinged wild crazy balance out :)

I think their fusion is named Norma lol

Blaise and Pyros never fused, ever. They were not allowed to bc it "wasn't proper" for royalty to resort to something like that

(King and Queen Frost had a very hands-off approach with...messier conflicts. There's a reason they managed to scrape by when The Call happened)

If a redemption arc ever happened for Pyros, it A) wouldn't be one like Jack's, it'd be a more "oh so this was a fucked up upbringing and I need to stop blaming others and confront myself and maybe fix my shit or maybe get worse, who's to say" kind of thing, and B) there'd deffs be a fusion related plotline in Fusion AU, potentially involving murder of parents and/or falling into a volcano.

I think, somehow, of ALL the fusions, Elline (Elle and Jacqueline) are the most chillest one. She is SO chill. She probably always has sunglasses on or on her person. She's got great advice. She'll go with you for ice cream any day! She has such good vibes it's unREAL.

I want to/am in the process of giving the inter-season fusions names. So far we've got:

Flora: Spring/Summer

Fauna: Spring/Autumn

Mud: Spring/Winter.

She's very insistent on this name presently, but I think a wintry plant would be cuter, like Winterberry or Poinsettia or Snowdrop (my personal fave tbh) but NO. She's like "I make Mud therefor I am mud."

Everyone calls her Snowdrop and she's like "No, just Mud for short is fine" It's like. None of those letters are even IN "Snowdrop" Mud, the FUCK? CAN'T YOU CHARACTERS BE NORMAL. TO A POINT.

Evergreen: Autumn/Winter

Sunflower: Summer/Autumn

(I was torn between something plain and obvious like "Harvest", or a silly crop related pun like "Melony", then I remembered that in SDV Sunflowers grow in Summer and Autumn, you know, like they do in IRL and went OH THAT'S PERFECT!)

Summer/Winter fusion is definitely the poster fusion for vacations, lmao. Probably I'll think of something like THAT for their name. Maybe Snowbird? Bc that's what they call people who fly south for the winter on vacations? Lol

(smacks head of Season sisters) These ladies can fit SO MUCH PUNS in 'em

Blaise and Winter I don't think really fuse with the kiddos, not until later years. I know for sure Winter and Jacqueline on occasion have! She's called Flurry and has the MOST energy ever always and is a sentient storm's WORST NIGHTMARE

Blinter the fusion. Can deffs. Pull other fusions apart. They can just pick up a fusion and be like "nope" and separate their asses. They do not abuse this power; it is just something they can do and it came in handy a LOT during the War of Succession

Which is probably actually when they first appeared! Trauma bonding 🥰🥰

So that's what I managed in a day! The heights are...average, I'd say. Not gospel, but like, the differences between the fusions? Solid. I eyeballed it 100%. I'm like MAKE EM BIG but then I'm like I WANT THEM TO BE SNEAKY AND BLEND IN WHEN THEY CAN AS JUST VERY TALL PEOPLE HUEHUEHUE. For some of them. SO YEAH. I HOPE THIS SATISFIES THE LIL ITCH? THE LIL TICKLE? THE LIL FUSION BUG??

I gotta like. Tidy Fusion AU up now that I've got Crystal Springs tidied up, too! It'll make it easier to write the Jackie Frost instalment, lol.

#dani answers #ask box shenanigans #alpharra #fusion au #anyway i hope you enjoy this!!!! #maybe i will. fusion au for you all next year. idk!!!! #we'll see! #OH ALSO i think jackie may get a glow up! #you know how harvey guillen wore that AMAZING suit with the like. skirt back???? #that but for jackie. that's rent free in my HEAD bb #okok this has been in drafts way too long today lol. enjoy!

[overobsessedfanboy23]

Episode 88 was about as good as I was expecting

I went in with high standards and my standards were well met I'd say. I've been giving every Yugioh episode (pre Go Rush) a number score lately and this one, fittingly, would be an 8/10. It was pretty great, not quite amazing, but very enjoyable and has me excited for next episode.

MORE SPECIFIC SPOILERS BELOW

Kuaidul continues to prove himself to be a great villain. With how confidently he presented himself this episode, I can honestly fully believe that Yudias taking control of the deck that had all his friends in it was either part of his master plan or something he accounted for. Kuaidul is a super campy but super effective villain and while I know what his ultimate plan is thanks to spoilers in the following episodes' summaries, I'm still left wondering how he'll execute said plan.

Also, I really like his new deck. I like that he has a new deck first and foremost, I find characters whose duelling constantly evolves to be very engaging to watch. Plus, and this is gonna be hella biased, this new deck Kuaidul is using, at least so far is the sort of deck I could see myself gravitating towards in a rush duel. Maybe I've got a bias towards light attribute decks, I'll admit, but I really like this new deck so far and it's the first Go Rush deck that's stuck out to me as one I'd like to play myself. So duelling wise, I got a lot out of this episode.

Story and character wise, there wasn't anything groundbreaking to this episode outside of the beginning when the shrunken down main cast fought the giant Kuaidul (which was hilarious) and the thirty nine characters in Yudias's cards reducing their pain through the power of love. Yeah, I know I talked about that already, but come on, that's the perfect amount of cheese for Yugioh. I found it adorable personally. Also, just, overall, this is a really cool setup for a final duel (of the arc at least). Yudias having everyone he's met throughout the series duel alongside him, as they're literally the cards themselves and have some input in the decision making. It's less than I'd want for Yuamu and Yuhi but there's seemingly another arc to go so I'll let it slide for this arc's finale since it is still really cool.

Overall, really enjoyed this one and I'm looking forward to the next two episodes. Can't wait to see how Kuaidul is gonna fuse two galaxies together as my theory of him using Extreme Fusion has already seemingly been proven wrong since that card is no longer in his deck. Should be interesting.

#yugioh go rush spoilers #go rush spoilers #yugioh go rush #go rush #kuaidul velgear #rambles #reviews #go rush episode reviews

[emblemxeno]

I was reading though your fe discourse tags(yes hi sorry for the likespam) and I saw the ones about not taking anime games to seriously

And I want to rant about it lmao

I play genshin, right? So, lately, it's story and writing has been getting so much better! The writers can write now!

And now ppl are acting like it's the Most Serious Dark Horror game ever like.

Bro! It's fucking genshin impact! Pull yourself together! It's an anime game that's awful sometimes bur its okay to like it! Jesus...

And that's what fe discourse looks like to an outsider ig

Exactly. At the end of the day, I don't want to take away people's deeper level enjoyment when looking into a game's story and such. But we gotta live in reality, y'know? Games are made to entertain, to appeal, and to sell. Finding a niche and going all in on that niche is what video game devs strive to do. No matter how serious or dark and gritty FE can get for example, it's not gonna compromise itself by potentially alienating the crowd it's made for, which is the crowd that loves neat anime-esque characters in fantasy scenarios developing camaraderie during wartime. Which is why deeper discussions of things like "Teh Systum, man" and such often result in stories being too big for their britches and ending up saying nothing despite everything.

Genshin I haven't touched, but due to its global phenomenon appeal, I've been adjacent/witness to discourse, and it doesn't surprise me that similar criticisms apply. At the end of the day, it's a fun gacha-roleplaying game fusion that wants to sell appealing characters to its playerbase, and keeps creating more content for the fans to use new toys in. Even when the writers get serious, there should be a level of objectivity that things aren't gonna like, utterly and dramatically shift gears to the point where it gets a bit unrecognizeable from a casual fan's perspective. It's definitely a strange feeling to see the fandom talk about a game you like and have no idea what the fuck they're talking about due to them putting a lot more thought into things than the product requires lol.

#queue #fire emblem discourse #video games #nonnies

[give-soup-please]

Heres a fun one! If you were to describe your Narrator when he takes on a form, what would he look like? Tall, short? Greying hair? Dark hair? Glasses? No glasses? I'm suddenly curious now.

Ah, a fun and easy question to answer. Let's see:

My narrator is taller than me. I'm 5 foot, 6 inches, and when I think about him, he usually is at least six inches taller than that, though it has been known to vary. I like tall people, they make excellent hugging partners. Especially when they do that thing where they let you rest the top of your head under their chin. Absolutely underrated.

His hair is a kind of a pale sandy brown, it was once much darker, but it's definitely starting to fade. He's got flecks of gray running through his hair, and if you gave him another five years, it would probably all turn gray by then. My mind switches between having his hair be perfectly combed and gelled, and being a mess because he runs his fingers through it when anxious or emotional, which is- most of the time. Like extreme bedhead.

He wears glasses, with no dark rims, it's all just glass. It's hard to explain their exact kind, but it's a fusion of half moon spectacles and John Lennon's famous pair. 3/4ths moon spectacles? I don't know how to describe it.

His eye color shifts, depending on my mood. Blue and brown are the most common colors, though green has been known to crop up from time to time.

He's always appeared to me as an older man, early fifties at the youngest, late sixties at the oldest. His body type is chubby. I don't know how to explain it, but he doesn't sound young or thin to me, so I don't picture him that way.

He dresses like an english professor, which is very fitting. We're talking tweed jackets and ties, turtle necks, blazers, dark slacks, the whole thing.

And I don't know how much sense this makes, but when I picture him, his form isn't 100% realistic. When I think about other fictional characters, I've got a fairly clear grasp on their form. But with him, he looks more cartoony. Like an alien getting a glimpse of a human and then being asked to make a kids show about them. Details tend to shift around a lot, so a shorthand would be:

Irritated and long suffering English professor who is in desperate need of a vacation, or retirement. He's just graded an essay on why his favorite book isn't really all that great, and he's got a migraine coming on. Grumpy old man with a soft spot under several layers of ego and anxiety.

But yeah, how I picture him tends to change a lot. If you asked me in a week's time, some of the details would be different. It's a matter of personal taste, but some interpretations I look at and instantly go, "yeah, that's him." and some I don't.

#tsp #personal

[passiveagressiveukulele]

If it's propaganda why is it making me cry?

I love internet archives. FreeMusicArchivedororg and InernetArchivedot org are my besties. Even Tumblr is an archive. Not ready to let go of 2014 yet - it gave us T Swift's 1989, a crucial year for human progress. Whenever I needed to patch something up or spice things up in a film archives have provided an answer. After all, history is cyclical. Archive's always had my back.

I've been thinking a lot about archive lately and how it can be recontextualised and used creatively by new generators. I'm very intrigued by the concept of taking something that has no emotional and historical value to the artist who is then going to re-imagine it, simply by looking at the edges of the frame and by making holes within the frame. For instance:

But then that got me thinking about archive which has no historical or emotional value to me but is still part of my personal history. For the sake of melodrama - my identity. For context here's a lil throwback to the post I wrote up last year after my visit to the French institute:

This talk has been creatively haunting me and now having seen the finished product, the film haunts me. Non-Aligned: Scenes from the Labudovic Reels is part essay, part intimate friendship, part political discourse - a 7 year long discovery and investigation of a dusty archive of a country that ceased to exist. I went to see it with my parents, they're Mila's generation, grew up in the former Yugoslavia and watched it fall apart. They grew up watching the footage Mila dug up to make her latest film. To my mum, this was the resurrection of the propaganda she was fed as a young girl. To my dad, it was a nostalgia trip - back to the time when we were someone, something on the map. And to me, well, it made me cry.

Stevan Labudović, the cameraman of Yugoslav president Tito and Mila's protagonist captures the birth of the Non-Aligned Movement. Sent on missions to film liberation wars, he plays a key role in the information battles that defined the era of decolonisation and the makings of cross continental friendships.

Given I am dealing with Eastern European racism in my dissertation, I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing in Mila's film. A better time, just like my dad always claimed and I mistook it for rose tinted glasses. A tool of propaganda perhaps, but also proof that bridging the gap between wildly different communities is possible. Cross continental comradeship - no matter the colour of the skin. It's like Mila is bringing this archive out of the shadows in a crucial moment in history when the us vs them seems to be ruling the political discourse left, right and centre be it regarding gender, race, nationality or access to healthcare. She's here to show us that we weren't always so divided and in by re-contextualising the material through the edit, she is building the groundwork for a better future. A reminder that friendship was and is possible if we open ourselves up to it.

Mila lives and works in Paris. My friend Eva, a ying to my yang in many ways (and not just because she is blonde) also lives and studies in Paris. She too met Mila and was incredibly inspired by her filmography. I just got off a 3 hour phone call with her during which we both realised Mila's plan worked. She was our wake up call. Her fusion of academic research and artistic practices calls to action, to educate and to change, starting from myself.

Reason 382826272 why I love documentary.

The Other Side Of Everything

On a less existential and heroic note, I found Mila's earlier work, a documentary about her mother's flat in Belgrade and what lies behind its locked door relevant to Natalia's documentary I've gotten involved with.

Once again, it's a highly political film - her mum is probably the biggest activist Serbia has ever seen and I found myself wondering what it must be like for Mila to live up to her mother's legacy, to follow in her footsteps and almost keep the fire burning. I really enjoyed the way Mila interacts with her mother on screen, facilitating discussion which often evolves into arguments. The camera is not a sufficient barrier for these two strong minded Balkan women to go head to head. Watching it I thought about how I would have to treat my role as the cinematographer on Natalia's project to get a similar result and I realised that I might have to just step back and give Natalia the camera so she can start the conversations with her grandparents behind it. She's talked about wanting a mostly observational approach but realistically, 10 days in Poland will not be enough time for her grandparents to get used to me and I also won't pick up the language that fast so I can differentiate between what's important and what isn't. Seeing the way Mila handles family dynamics has helped me understand what is expected of me as a third party observer. Even the flies on the wall sometimes have to exit the room.

#Youtube

[system-of-a-feather]

Thank you for your long and thoughtful response to the ask I sent in earlier. ; w; (I'm the one who sent the super long ask in asking about late stage recovery.)

It's really reassuring to me that there can still be that sense of supporting one another. I couldn't quite put it into words before, but I think that and knowing we've got each other's backs and we can always count on that, is the thing that most scares me to think about the possibility of losing. I wasn't sure that could still exist if we were ever to fuse. I don't wanna emotion dump in your inbox so I'll leave it at that lol but when you were talking about that part I was like... yeah, that's what I most needed to know. I needed to know that our ability to express care for each other when it's needed wouldn't be lost. So the possibility of fusion someday, doesn't feel as scary anymore -- even if it's not the direction we currently want to go.

Yeah no I totally get it cause that was one of the largest things that terrified me about fusion as well. Growing up we really never had a single adult or family member in our life around to console or care for us and through a lot of therapy and work, our system became very much a family first and foremost that we've learned to realize that we have always had in spite our "real physical" family having not been there. By the time we were developing pretty reliable communication, I began really forgetting that my biological family was my ""actual family"" as I always thought of my parts as my dad, siblings, etc whenever topics like that came up and I'd always have to double take say at the idea that "I don't have a brother". (We only have two sisters, but our system has so many parts that feel like brothers to me so whenever I think about that I'm like 'tf i have like 40 brothers') So the idea of no longer being chronically separate parts scared me shitless cause - for the first time in my life - I felt I had a family and so it was really fucking hard to fathom final fusion without coming to this idea that I'd have to feel alone again.

And cause we were raised feeling very alone in our family for most of our life that was an extremely stressful and triggering feeling after having FINALLY earned and recovered a sense of companionship and belonging with the 'people' that have always been with my my whole life that I had just not been able to be fully aware of and in full acknowledgement of.

And of course, I'm not saying that "YOU WILL LOOSE IT" cause obviously *motions to previous post* it's really hasn't turned out that way - just really saying that its such a real and understandable fear to have. In the moment its kind of like imagining a color that doesn't exist and so you try to imagine it with what you know and its just... hard to put together until you start to get closer to that place in time and life.

But yeah, I will say with a full gut and 100% confidence upon all parts, never once - no matter how little I focus on the parts and just look at the whole or identify as a whole singular person - do I ever feel alone or like my parts that I love and care dearly for that love and care dearly for me are ever NOT here. Never once have I ever felt like I was on my own or that I didn't have anyone internally there to protect, care, support, or love me. Even in the most "zoomed out" whole moments, I never for a second loose that warm, caring intimate relationship I've had with all the parts.

And in the case of "I" - "I" means that it is something that every part agrees on in regards to every other part they've interacted with. Riku, Chunn, XIV, Ray, Lucille, Aderis, Evaline, Aya, Eva, Iris etc etc. Most of the times when I say "I" as Fei, its because it is just something I know is a system wide shared consensus and thing we agree on.

It kinda just sometimes feels like a really big big big group hug or like us all bundling up in a really cozy tent or those little rainbow parachute games they used to play in elementary school where everyone just goes under the parachute

It's honestly a really good time. I've had zero regrets and honestly lately, like the past like week straight, I've been mostly just choosing to mainly be in a state of Fei just so I can enjoy life transitions a little better as a whole and keep a wider view on how to meet our system's needs best cause for those sorts of decisions and all, having a wide lens on life and existence helps a lot more.

That said, I can still grab anyone and everyone and go "YOU - YOUR TURN" and what not (which we do for brief periods here or there, particularly in favorites activites like writing / drawing / DnD making with Riku and exercising with XIV and walks with Chunn)

#alter: fei #ask #asks #final fusion #functional multiplicity #dissociative identity disorder #actuallydid

[forthedancingandthethriving]

"CPU.." Lily runs her fingers through his hair. "Can I.. ask something?"

"Hm?" CPU tilts his head, not glancing up from his

"Uh.. what.." she hesitates before continuing. "How.. exactly did granpa and grandpa's universe.. yknow."

CPU pauses before turning his head a bit. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, it's just.." the young girl sighs. "I've been curious lately. Domain, Forum, and Juliano rarely talk about their universe, and I get why, and I don't wanna be insensitive by asking.. but at the same time, I'm really curious."

CPU hums to himself before sighing. "Alright, I'll tell you, just be sure not to tell them that I told you, okay?"

Lily lit up. "I promise!"

CPU nods before drumming his fingers against his leg. "It was just a few days after Abyssal and Umbra officially became Admins, if I remember right."

○●○

"It seemed to just be an ordinary day. Byte.. he had been giving Umbra and Abyssal sparring lessons, when apparently, by their word, he collapsed from pain."

CPU remembered that day well. Abyssal and Umbra had come rushing back in, with Byte leaning heavily onto Umbra. The two had been in a panic, not understanding why Byte was in such pain. He had been fine moments earlier, they had said.

"Crash and I came out to help while Buffer did her best to calm those two down. We got him to the medical bay and, well.. Vitality was there, and besides when she nearly had a heart attack after the whole Ozymandias thing.. I think that's the only time I've seen her express horror over a diagnosis."

Remembering how Vitality's face turned to one of horror as she looked at the command box still gave him chills.

"As it turns out, your grandpas' universe was dying. The Avatar, Juliano, had been killed by a strange monster. And while we were trying to figure that out, we heard shouting. .. Do you remember Cookie?"

"The Admin that did the weird fusion thing to try and bring back Byte?"

"Exactly. I'm sure you know now, but she was obsessed with Byte. Scarily so. And Cookie.. she was the one to send the monster to Juliano's universe, but unfortunately, Abyssal overheard her muttering about it. They called her out, and well.."

".. did Cookie hurt them?"

".. Yes. Cookie tried to kill Abyssal."

That day still made him shudder. He remembered so vividly running out of the medical bay, Crash close behind him, to witness Cookie pinning down Abyssal and trying to choke them.

She didn't manage to get far, thankfully.

"We managed to get her off of them and then put limiters on her. After that, it was a matter of figuring out what to do with Domain and Forum. Of all Admins, it was Cluster who said we should ascend them to Admins and wipe their memories."

"Back when you guys weren't as good with emotions?"

"Oh, shush it. But.. you're right, yes. We all believed that ascending them was the right thing to do. So we let Cluster do it, and then from there, we did our best to get back to normal as quickly as possible."

○●○

Lily pauses in braiding his hair. "That makes a lot of sense." She goes quiet, and before CPU can ask what's wrong, she speaks again, voice much more soft. "How.. how's Lag?"

CPU glances downward. "He's as well as he can be after learning."

".. can you tell him I hope he feels better soon?"

"I'll pass it along."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

#admin: cpu #oc: lily #fanfiction: my writing! #!posts!

[bramble-scramble]

There’s something that irks me about the creations of the hero Rabbids. An misconception everyone seems to think is right.

The Rabbid heroes weren’t fused with Mario merchandise right?

I keep rewatching the scene and Rabbid Peach gets fused with a wig and a phone.

I just get very confused about it. Basically I don’t know why people think they’re fused with merchandise

Ok sorry for the kinda late answer, I have been trying to study the cutscene here and there on my phone at work lol.

I could have sworn the cutscene was more explicit about it, because yeah most people I've talked to just assume they were made from the figurines specifically. Unlike my "Phantom was unmerged" false memory, this one seems to be a lot more widespread. I think it's because the cutscene puts a lot of focus on the inventor's figurines so people just make that assumption even if we don't see them actually being used for the fusion. It's still pretty easy to guess that's what some of the heroes we don't actually see getting merged would be made out of. To assume Rabbid Luigi was made out of the Luigi figurine, etc... I guess it's just putting the pieces together, but is a lot less explicitly canon than one might think.

But as you often do Calisto, you made me realize something I had NEVER noticed before, which is... I always just assumed the phone Rabbid Peach has was her pre-existing Rabbid phone that she just had already... But it's not, it's totally the inventor's phone isn't it!! Because if you look closely it does NOT have the ears on it before the merge... and then afterwards it does.....

How did they put so many details into the silly bunny game that I'm still learning stuff five years later!! No wonder she is so obsessed with her phone, she IS the phone in a way... the phone is also her, a little bit!

(Side note, it's always weird watching this and seeing Beep-0 without his ears/"teeth"... Forbidden bald Beep-0...)

So she was created from a Peach-themed(I guess?) phone, but Rabbid Mario was made from a Mario cap, which we can assume is indeed merchandise that belonged to the inventor. I mean she's got all kinds of cool stuff in there. I have a Mario cap too, I think it was a pre-order bonus for something, so it's not even that rare of a thing to have, although mine is kinda crappy lol. I wish my basement nerd lair was that cool....

Anyway, the other heroes we have to fill in the blanks. (I like to think she had some Yoshi pajamas lying around and that's what Rabbid Yoshi is made of, not a figurine, because he is so soft and floppy and just looks like he's wearing a kigurumi anyway.)

So in conclusion, yeah I do think they were made from Mario themed merch because the inventor had so much, but WHAT exactly in each case is a lot more open to interpretation.

(It's also fun to imagine she had at least SOME toys of other things, like maybe she had a Vault Boy bobblehead and there is just a Fallout Rabbid out there in the wasteland somewhere... Had it been my room there would be a Rabbid K. Rool and a Rabbid King Knight and Rabbid Linebeck and all sorts of things...)

#mario rpgs #mario plus rabbids #mario + rabbids #alter answers #fan analysis