#unplanned variables

[cave-n-dish]

(Dis)Connection

[zeebreezin]

Before leaving for the Neath, to find his daughter’s killer, August Shaw told only one person: his wife. His letter was poorly worded, rambling, and utterly incoherent. Before leaving to complete his Ambition, heading into Parabola on a quest he does not think he will return from, Shaw did not want to make the same mistake. The following messages were addressed to (In order): @neathyingenue ‘s Silvia Salcedo, @gmalaart ‘s Emon Cavendish, @elleryhart ‘s Ellery , @viric-dreams ‘s Robin Jones, @letheology ‘s Mina Azoulai, @capn-twitchery ‘s Twitch, and @t6fs, here addressed as Logan.

[You haven’t heard from Shaw in several days, any mail you sent has gone unanswered. A letter arrives out of nowhere, written in his curling handwriting. The script is messy, blotted with ink and wine.] “Dear Silvia, I apologise for the state of myself as I write this, though you must understand that this message is of the utmost importance. The time for half truths and polite obfuscation is past, between us. I will not insult you by dancing around the truth. When I first came to London, I came with only one purpose: to avenge the death of my daughter, Lenore, and to meet my own end in the process. Since then, well. I’ve found something quite worth remaining for. I set off now to end what I have started, and I may not return. For that I am so, so sorry. You have become… so much to me, Silvia. In all your endeavours, I wish you the best. Your talent and passion for what is right has inspired me, and I’m sure you have inspired many. I am proud to consider you family, a bond not forged by blood but by ink and will. I… I hope you will be well. No matter what happens. If I do not return, know that I am deeply proud of you. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[The letter does not arrive on paper. It is scrawled across the cosmogone sky, familiar handwriting curling across the surface of parabola like a rock skipping across the surface of a lake.] “My Dearest Emon, it rends my heart to know that I cannot send you this letter. I dare not post it, knowing the reflection that takes your place.” [A few words are heavily scratched out.] “I have no idea if I will see you again, you as I know you, vibrant and sharp and maddeningly brilliant. I wish, more than anything, you were at my side. If I return from the journey I now set out to take, know that I will find you. My window of opportunity is brief, and I cannot linger, though I know how selfish it must seem. I set off now to defeat the ghosts that haunt me, to lay my daughter to rest. When I began, I thought that this would be my undoing, a death I welcomed. Now, though. I must succeed. I will find you again, Emon. These words will reach you - they must. I have to return. Wherever you may be, know that… I will find you, my love. Yours, Always, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[A stained letter is delivered to you by an anonymous urchin. It’s dated to a few days after you left on your trip… the handwriting is familiar.] “Dear Ellery Hart, I hope this letter reaches you well. I’ve scheduled it to be delivered as soon as you return, as its contents are quite important to me. Once you receive this, I will have already departed on a journey. I dare not tell you where I go, or why, but know that-” [A section of text is scratched out.] “I may not return. In such a case, I… Where do I begin? You’ve come so far in the time I’ve known you, Ellery. In all senses, I’m deeply proud of the man you’ve grown into. Wherever your path takes you after this hunt, I know you will do well. If this is goodbye, then know that I count you both amongst my finest pupils, and amongst my dearest friends. Hunt well, Ellery. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[The dead drop has remained quiet for a while now. The next missive you receive from the Black Rook isn’t encoded, or tucked away - it’s left in your mailbox, like any other letter.] “Dear Jones, I apologise for the unorthodox - or perhaps more accurately, deeply orthodox - method of communication. This message has nothing to do with our work, though I understand if you dispose of it as if it was. Simply put, I am… leaving London, for a time. This journey is not one I had expected to return from for a long time, but I know that I will be fighting to return to the city now. Should all go wrong, well, I know that we have not always seen eye to eye. I know that I may never truly win back your trust, something that would be well within your rights. But I could not leave in good conscience without saying goodbye. The letters we used to send, as Suzette and Jacques, they provided me a great deal of light during my darkest days. After everything I am, in truth, not sure what to call us. But whatever you are to me, Robin Jones, I hope I get to see you again, once all this is over. Play Well, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[Shaw hasn’t been at the university for a while, now. A letter is slipped into your desk when you return to Benthic, tucked neatly into the top drawer. No cipher, plain script - this isn’t a game.] “Dear Mina, I hope the Khante has been treating you well. I’m unsure as to when you’ll be back, and a part of me hopes that this letter will be quickly corrected by my presence at your door, but nevertheless. I’m setting off on a mission, you could say, one of great personal significance. One I am unsure if I will return from. In the case I… do not return, I leave my network to you, Mina. Take this letter to Demirkan, he will know what to do. …We can do great things with this Game we play. We have done great things. I trust you to carry on that, if I cannot. You have been a great friend to me, and a most trusted confidant. I can only hope that I do not betray that trust now. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[A letter from your former protege arrives, carried by bat. It’s uncommon enough that he’s writing to you, but the contents of the letter are stranger still.] “Dear Captain Lazaret, I must apologise for the suddenness of this letter. I hope it finds you well, and in a space where you can read it without fearing immediate retribution. Though I know we only occasionally brush paths these days, it seemed unwise to not inform you of my current state of affairs. Simply put, Captain, I’m going to be away from London for some time, and I am unsure if I will ever see home waters again. For all my gripes and bristles (and indeed, all the years I fear you’ve taken off my life) I could not have become the man I am today without your guidance. I know I may have seemed ungrateful, but… well, thank you for all you taught me. And for all the times we have spent together, many of which were at the worst lows of my time down below. You are vexing, and caustic, and I dare say my days in London would be a great deal duller without knowing you. Let none of my sarcasm lead to you forgetting this fact, Captain - as you are indeed someone I owe a great deal of happiness to. I hope to see you again. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[Shaw’s not home, when you return to London, but tonight, six apocyan eyes beckon you to the window. Laying out is a phonograph, one Nigel plays, though there’s no music recorded - just Shaw’s voice, thick with emotion.] “Logan, I- /ˈdæmɪt/, I hope this thing is working right. I hope you’re well? The Tomb Colonies, can be quite draining, I know. I… I’ve left this for you, as I didn’t quite trust my No`çuk" script, and… well, this is quite serious.” [A pause. The sound of drumming fingers on the table.] “This is harder to say than I thought, I, ah…” [A deep, shaky breath.] “The reason I first came to London was not a good one. My daughter had been- she had been taken from me. I came here for revenge, to find the one who’d… and, in all honesty, to lose myself in the process. Now, I’ve left to finish what I’ve started. If I do not return, I… Logan, you’ve become so dear to me. The kindness you’ve shown me, all of it… it is something I will never forget. You are impossible, magnificent… and I love you. Terribly so. What else is there to say?” [A laugh, clearly through tears.] “I will find you, if I make it back. I swear. Xïmo`tu`no` szokh, Muszhka`. If I can’t, I… no. I will. I love you, Logan.” [The recording ends there. Nigel offers it to you.]

- x - x -

[starlightdraws01]

Rescue

The captian saves phineas from Tartarus

[random-ish-incorrect-quotes]

The Unplanned Variable: If you could choose someone from ‘The Odyssey’ that most resembles me, who would it be?

Vicar Max: The Hero, obviously. Odysseus. Cunning warrior, Master of disguise….and it means “Trouble” in Greek.

[5un5yst]

Om other cap! One more to go lol fml.....they/them!

[amplexadversary]

I finally finished The Outer Worlds and despite some criticisms I really enjoyed it.

I think I would have preferred if there were more interesting junk/variety of items to deal with and if my companions actually used ammo; I'm used to fairly scroungy games like Bioshock, so I ended the game with almost the maximum amount I could carry (I hit the limit and had to sell several times) as well as over 100k bits.

I also feel like a lot of the unique weapons and armor were kind of lackluster. If they had scaled better than their generic variants (which you can find better versions of later in the game), I might have been more satisfied.

Also wouldn't have minded having more places to put stuff I picked up and for the inventory/containers I did get to be easier to sort manually (I can't move things to different pages in my inventory if I'm carrying too many different things! And I can't auto-sort by consumable effect! Augh!)

I'm not great at FPS combat (I still hold that VATS from Fallout is probably the best accessibility feature ever made for an FPS and it is not close) but I feel like the balance of encounters needed a little work. Some encounters (the two bosses most notably) that I was expecting to be challenging were not, and the encounters that I did have a hard time with sometimes felt like they were difficult for the wrong reasons.

By the end of the game I was basically only using the medical inhaler in the split second I got to heal my companions before they would inevitably be downed by enemy fire because the animation was so damn long. Whenever my character needed healing it was basically necessary for me to go through the menu (faster, and I get to handpick which consumables I'm using). There is not really any good way to heal companions in this game so I essentially had to resolve myself to expect them to be downed and finish fights alone.

I like the idea of the flaw system but I wish it was more robust than being mostly enemy and damage type weaknesses with a few more interesting options (I decided to bring an anime man to this game so obviously I took the food addiction debuff.) I would likely have taken the cynophobia debuff as well if I had felt any of the perks were worth it, but those unfortunately weren't very tempting either.

I did really enjoy the story of the game, but I feel like a huge factor in that was that I happened to bring a character who meshed really well with the setting and everyone else's problems, and I still had moments where I felt the need to ditch role-playing choices to actually engage with the game better (there are not a *ton* of side missions, and I frequently found myself thinking "okay, [character] would absolutely tell this guy to fuck off but I want the game to last more than 20h"). To offset that though there are definitely moments where the plot and my excuses as to why the guy was even there lined up really beautifully (especially on Gorgon and especially on the Hope. I'm imagining some punched-out monitors on the Hope in particular.)

Assuming the sequel is likely going to be more polished mechanics-wise and have more to do and interact with (not an unreasonable expectation in video games, sequels are more often than not an improvement on the original), I'll probably want to play it.

[chuunai]

Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool

I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14

Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo

Fire away friend

I’m sorry for making you sick : (

✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky

how can a baby control his heart?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.

Lord, she looked so much like him.

Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?

It made sense, though. Yin and yang.

Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.

He’d worked enough for today.

Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.

For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.

Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.

His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.

“She’s doing okay?”

As if his little angel would ever be harmed.

“Of course, дорогой.”

He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.

“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”

It was only fair.

You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.

In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.

Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.

He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.

And his Avdotya should have the same experience.

Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.

He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.

Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.

The finale soon came.

He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.

Not an angel like his Dunya.

Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.

Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.

A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.

A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.

Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.

Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.

Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.

While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.

Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?

Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.

He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.

Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.

“My goddess.”

His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.

And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.

And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.

That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.

They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.

But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

Help this took so long

[sanguinesky-if]

[Dev Log] December 2024

Hello, I apologize for the delay in releasing the dev log.

I'm currently away from home because a couple I'm friends with urgently asked me to pet-sit their animals while they took an unplanned business trip, so I didn't have time to prepare a post in advance.

This dev log includes:

A reminder of the release date for the public update.

An answer to the question of when to expect the next update.

Information about content that will be released this month [in honor of the New Year and the anniversary of the demo release].

A small addition to the "Secondary Rivals" section in the Romance System Overview.

Let's start from the beginning.

[Reminder] Public update release date

The public release of Chapter 3 Pt. 1 is scheduled for December 7.

Thank you for your patience and support!

A small note for my patrons: I really appreciate your help and support, but please note that saves from the Patreon demo will not work on the public release [since the files will be merged, as mentioned in the Patreon demo release post]. However, I will keep a working Patreon demo link for you where your saves will still work until the next update is released. I hope this will be helpful!

When will work begin on the next update [Chapter 3 Pt. 2]?

The work on the outline for the current draft I have for Chapter 3 Pt. 2 will begin after the New Year [a month after the public release, which is scheduled for December 7].

What was accomplished last month?

L's Side Story release.

There were some grammatical errors and a few coding inconsistencies because I used one of the variables incorrectly in the penetration moment ["the MC takes the initiative" scene]. Both issues have been fixed, and I apologize for the inconvenience. To my patrons, thank you so much for your support, patience and for helping with the errors. I'm glad if you enjoyed the story!

Bug fixes in the extended version of the demo.

There weren't many, but I still found a fixed some [mostly grammatical, as usual].

About my plans for the current month.

December 17 will mark the anniversary of the demo's release, and with the New Year approaching, I want to create something special to celebrate both occasions.

Throughout December, I'll be working on a collection of winter/New Year's themed short interactive stories, one for each of the ROs [featuring choices for the MC's name, gender, and one bold/shy flirt option].

Planned release: [Patreon]: end of December / first week of January. [Public]: a week after the release on Patreon.

I've also decided to release one of the stories in December before the full collection comes out.

It means the most-voted story and the most-voted alphabet will be released this month as bonus content on Patreon [I'm still waiting for the poll results since I released the post a little later than planned].

Secondary Rivals [a minor addition].

A small addition has been made to the Romance System Overview in the "Secondary Rivals" section:

Options marked [♡] establish relationship with the secondary rivals and unlock special scenes and narrative changes later on the story.

Thank you for reading to the end and for your support! Have a wonderful week and days after that! ♥

[redstonedust]

im not super jazzed abt cellbit being from quesadilla island but only bc ive always liked the idea that the favela five are a completely unknown variable to the federation. like they've got this controlled inescapable island experiment going on and felps literally runs a cargo ship into it. and now the feds have to account for five unplanned players they know nothing about. comedy gold to me.

[thefanficmonster]

please please please write something for Mickey altieri I love him sm

You know I love Mr. Altieri and I'm always happy to write for him 😉 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons darling 💕

~ Lots of love, Vy 💌

Mickey Altieri having a crush on you in college would include:

You told yourself you wouldn't date in college - for many reasons

Obviously, piles of schoolwork and many hours of studying awaited you and you couldn't imagine yourself forfeiting your future and neglecting all that work for a significant other

But also the upcoming four years are exactly the years meant for being wild and you couldn't afford missing out on any of that due to a commitment to another person

But at this point life had rudely taught you that things rarely go as you hope and plan them to

One of the variables you didn't factor into your planning was Mickey fucking Altieri

The sleek bastard

You'd caught his eye from day one - orientation day, to be exact

He was very fond to see you in his film class and with a bit of asking around he found out you too are a film major

He wasted no time pulling out every flirting trick he can ever remember working on you

All to be dismissed and rejected each and every time

But he's a persistent man, well aware of his charm and charisma

"I'm not your type, I get it. How about we start over? Friends?"

"In your dreams, Altieri." You roll your eyes at his poorly disguised attempt at poking through your guard

"How come you know my last name?"

Your eyes widen before you can stop them

You've just exposed your own snooping agenda

You'd be lying if you said you didn't conduct your own research on this man

Sure, he's attractive, fun to be around, charismatic - magnetic, almost

And, contrary to his claim, just your type

But you refuse to give in

That is until you realize that giving him a chance doesn't automatically mean establishing a relationship

Rather a dynamic

One with the potential to be quite fun and exciting at best

Interesting and eventful at worst

So, when he tries one more time, offering you nothing more than his company to a sorority party

You shock him by agreeing, retorting with a time at which you required him to pick you up from your dorm building

And pick you up he does

You roll your eyes at the corny gesture of a bouquet - or the sorry excuse for one he'd picked up on his way across campus

Still, you can't help but find it endearing

"I knew you'd like me eventually" he is getting cocky, reaching even, but as long as he's able to get a laugh out of you he's satisfied

"Don't hold your breath. I just wanted to go to a party."

"Yeah but you could've gone with anyone else. Just admit you like me, hell won't freeze over."

You narrow your eyes at him a part of you regretting the decision to accept his offer while another corner of your brain is looking forward to the evening the two of you are about to have

"Over my dead body"

Little do you know, he could easily get that arranged

But he'd never do that, not to you anyway

"Ten bucks says they disappear to make out an hour into the party." Hallie says, peering over at Sidney as the two observe their friend meet up for something they adamantly claimed wasn't a date

"You're on." Sid agrees, both girls giggling as they get back to getting ready for the party

A party you and Mickey disappear from about forty-five minutes in, earning Hallie ten dollars

The rest is history - history filled with Mickey poking fun at how quickly your resolve crumbled

Because now, four months later, you're celebrating three months of officially dating

This is one of those rare occasions when life works out a lot better than you'd originally planned it

Some things are better off unplanned

The best things in life come as a surprise, after all

[cave-n-dish]

"Uhm, Professor Shaw, should we..." "Oh, take a seat. Dr. Cavendish was just telling me about their latest discoveries. The lecture will begin shortly."

[zeebreezin]

Okay now after all that you need to imagine Shaw, gloriously wine drunk, bursting into Cavendish’s house going “Emon- Emon- I killed the king of Belgium. EMON-“

[starlightdraws01]

WIP of a new TOW drawing

[random-ish-incorrect-quotes]

Vicar Max: This is either madness…or brilliance. The Unplanned Variable: It’s remarkable how often those two traits coincide.

[5un5yst]

Redraw if my stranger....yippee! They/them pronouns pls

[thedeafprophet]

I think Josephine and September having Maighread is a really significant part of their arc, not just because I’m interested in how characters change when they become parents, but because it meaningfully shifts their relationship and worldview...

Both of them have always been people looking forward, working tirelessly toward a Future shaped by their revolutionary ideals. That future is powerful, urgent, and deeply meaningful to them, but it's also distant. It's something glimpsed on the horizon, something imagined in the moonlit woods, not yet real.

Of course, they care deeply about the people already in their lives, the friends and found family they’ve fought alongside, laughed with, grieved with. Each other. That love and connection is rooted in the present. It’s immediate, grounding.

But Maighread’s arrival, that beloved unplanned variable, forces a shift. The future is no longer a theoretical when it becomes her future. Her presence makes everything more immediate. Suddenly, that distant tomorrow they’ve been fighting for becomes personal. Fragile. Real in a way they’ve never felt before.

A tangible reason to protect the future they both fear losing