#fallout rebellion

[falloutstasis]

Quest Continued - To dream and differ from the hollow lies

Boston, Massachusetts

It took almost a day, but after going though Charlton, Westborough, Wellesley, and finally, Boston. Since it was already closer to get to Concord, Kelsey dropped MacCready off there and said their goodbyes before leaving and making her way to Diamond City.

She had swiftly and successfully moved past Hangman's Alley, getting rid of any Raiders or monsters that lurked in the night.

There was a small abandoned house that was just a couple of miles away from Diamond City. No one owned it, no one had been in said house for a long time. Other than the ones who came and went to get shelter in. Kelsey can see at least two people there and didn't seem to mind her going up the stairs for getting some shut eye. They told her it was fine as long as she doesn't cause trouble.

She layed down on one sleeping bag, clutched her hang bag, and slept through the rest of the night.

When morning hit, she got up and left, seeing the two people she saw last night already gone.

Not a moment too soon, she was now in front of the gates of Diamond City.

Diamond City

There was an intercom next to the gates, so she pressed the button. There was a stature of a famous baseball player, but the stature is missing the head and the baseball bat.

"Hello, this is Diamond City Security. How can we help you?"

"Uh, hey! This is my first time in Diamond City. Can I come in?"

"What's your business in Diamond City?"

"I'm here to see a detective named Nick Valentine. Venessa Morris sent me to him."

"Ah, the mayor of Charlton. Then you must be Kelsey. We were told you were arriving. One moment."

Slowly, the green rusted gate opened with a loud metal creak. When the entrance revealed itself, three sets of stairs that lead upwards to Diamond City markets. There were already five security guards in this area. Three at the desk near the elevator and two that were guarding the stairs.

The one who greeted her at the stairs was the guard on her left side.

"The Valentine Detective Agency is on the far right of Diamond City." He said. "Don't cause any trouble, alright? Or I'll throw you out personally."

She gave out an awkward nod and made her way towards the inside of Diamond City. Once there, she stopped to take everything in, since she hasn't been here before.

Diamond City Market

"Damn." She whispered to herself. She took a couple of steps forward, taking herself near the Barber shop and it was only then that she noticed the multiple security guards all around. One on each corner.

"Geez. MacCready wasn't kidding about the guards here."

The atmosphere was just slightly cold, but not enough for a jacket. A lot of conversations happening at once, from the residents to the security.

Well, one of the guards said that the Valentine Detective Agency was at the far right of Diamond City and that's where she was going.

If it wasn't for the bright 'Valentine Detective Agency' sign at it's entrance, Kelsey would have probably be a little lost looking for his agency. After going through a hallway, she saw a door in front of her and knocked three times. From the other side of the door, she heard a woman saying, "I'm coming!"

Just only a moment later, the door opened and the woman greeted Kelsey with a smile, "Yes, can I help you?"

"Venessa Morris sent me here to help someone named Nick Valentine with a case. Is he here?"

"Oh, of course! Come in!" She opened the door wider for Kelsey to enter. As she did, the woman yelled out, "Hey, Nick! Venessa's friend is here!"

"I'll be right there!" The two could hear a male's voice from upstairs.

"My name is Ellie Perkins by the way." She held out her hand to shake. In return, Kelsey shook it. "I'm Nick's secretary. I handle all the paper work and appointments. It's nice to meet you."

"So I assume your Kelsey, right?"

Nick's voice can be heard more clearly as he came down the stairs.

"Yeah! I'm Kelsey. I usually go and help Charlton with doing local jobs around the town. I get paid, send some money for supplies. Sometimes I'm on guard duty and whatnot." She said, turning to Nick. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Likewise." Nick went over to his notes and sat down on a chair near his desk. "We've got a lot to discuss, so you might want to take a seat."

And she did just that. She took a seat and propped her legs on the other seat next to her once she saw Ellie was busy gathering files from the cabinets behind them.

"I know the quick version of the story from Venessa. People are getting kidnapped from their homes at Goodneighbor. Doors broken, personal belongings on the floor."

"Right." He nodded. "The thing is though, that these kidnappings were happening in broad daylight. Hancock says that the same thing happened during the day for the past three days. Fourth time it happened, he came straight to me with this."

He placed a ripped out patch that had 'SF' stitched on it. It's colors were grey, navy blue, and white.

"SF?" Kelsey took a closer look, letting her legs dangle while she sat. "Could this be like...a special branch of the Brotherhood of Steel?"

Nick shook his head. "No. If the Brotherhood of Steel were to infiltrate something, they would have whipped out Goodneighor in it's entirety by now."

Kelsey hummed. "Still though, I'm gonna contact Venessa to make sure. Danse should be with her too." She pulled out her walkie-talkie from her hang bag.

"Alright, go for it."

Kelsey turned on the walkie-talkie. "Hey, Pluto."

"H-Hey, Kels! What's up?" From the other end of the device, she could hear various construction noises. She couldn't help but notice that Venessa sounded a little flustered, but she paid no mind to that.

"Is Danse with you?"

"Uh, yeah. Hey, Danse! Kelsey wants to talk to you!" Kelsey could barely make out but she could hear Danse responding to her.

"This is Danse."

It's been over three years since Nick seen or heard Danse. "Ah, Paladin Danse."

"Valentine. It's just Danse now."

"That's right. You're not with the Brotherhood anymore. Speaking of which, you wouldn't know any special division within the Brotherhood under the name 'SF', would you?"

"No. At least, not that I know of. I don't think Maxson has ever created a special task force under 'SF'. There was a special group called the Brotherhood Outcasts, but they dissolved once Maxson brought them back into the Brotherhood."

Kelsey let out a big sigh when Danse mentioned the Brotherhood Outcasts.

"You were right, Nick."

"Yeah, checks out."

"About what?"

"Kelsey and I are investing a number of kidnapped people at Goodneighor and it was brought up by Hancock himself." Nick explained. "These were happening at broad daylight too."

This caused Danse to raise a brow. "Really? And when did he bring this up?"

"Two days ago."

A telephone ran from the other side of the room. "I'll get it!" Ellie rushed over to the phone to answer. "This is the Valentine Detective- Daisy? Is that you?"

Both Nick and Kelsey looked over at Ellie, but Kelsey responded. "Hey, Danse if you remember anything, let Venessa know and she'll tell me."

"Of course."

Kelsey turned off the walkie-talkie.

"Okay, Daisy calm down and tell me what happened."

Nick and Kelsey stood up and walked over to Ellie. From the looks on her face, she was very concerned, but that all went away in a instant.

"Wait, Hancock is gone?!"

"Oh no." Nick cursed and reached for the phone. Things couldn't get any worse now. It was no coincidence that Hancock just told Nick about the missing people a few days ago and now he's gone kidnapped as well.

"Here." Ellie handed Nick the phone.

"Daisy, this is Nick. Tell me everything you told Ellie."

Ellie walked over to Kelsey, clearly concerned over the well being of Goodneighbor now.

"What the hell just happened?" Kelsey asked.

"Daisy was panicking over the phone and said that Hancock was kidnapped. He never got back from Diamond City to Goodneighbor. She said that one of the Triggermen got a note from some guy in a military suit. She said that the note read 'Goodneighbor must be cleansed of it's sins.'

"What kind of cultist shit is this? What the hell are we dealing here?"

Ellie sighed. "I don't know. I just hope Hancock and the others are okay."

Nick hung up the phone after telling Daisy he'll be at Goodneighbor. He turned to Kelsey, "Sorry, for making you walk all the way out here, but could you come with me to Goodneighbor?"

"Of course!" Kelsey cheered, putting the arm of her hang back over her shoulder. "Let's head off."

"Ellie, we'll be back." As Kelsey left out of the building, before Nick would leave Ellie would respond.

"Be careful, Nick. I don't like this one bit."

"Me either, Ellie."

[thatwildwolfart]

some more doodles of Danse in his M7-97 era

[nicollekidman]

ella please please please i just wanna chat… the whole interview is incredible btw

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Jasmine and Nick: (Have gotten into an argument over Jas being reckless)

Jasmine: (Stamps her foot) “BUT DAD THATS NOT FAIR!!! YOU ARE BEING A JERK!!!”

Nick: (Patiently) “Jazzy, my word is final. Now go to your room to cool off that haughty attitude of yours.”

Jasmine: (Angsty teenage growls as she whirls around and storms off to the cabinets, reaching in for a box)

Nick: (Crosses his arms) “Jasmine- I said go to your room!”

Jasmine: (Takes the spaghetti noodles from the box and pours it into her hand, glaring over her shoulder at her father)

Nick: (Wags a finger at his daughter) “Don’t you dare-….”

Jasmine: (Snaps all of the spaghetti noodles in half while looking Nick dead in the eye)

Nick: (Bangs on his desk, rising from his chair) “NOW YOU’VE CROSSED THE LINE, MISSY.”

Ellie Perkins: (Sips her coffee) “Oh the joys of parenthood….”

[vv-ispy]

on one hand I totally understand tropes are popular but on the other hand I think Amos is a lot more compelling as a middle aged woman trying to figure out her life after a loveless relationship than a mother figure ya know

[ixar-of-the-bargains]

Ok so blowing up the Institute makes perfect sense for Maxson's Brotherhood. It makes a lot less sense for the Minutemen, given it also blows up so much of Cambridge (and, at least on theory, kills thousands of people), but I can accept it as a "we literally have no other way to ensure this doesn't happen again" hail mary decision. And it would make sense for the Railroad to blow up the Institute based on how much they're pissed about the Switchboard.

However, the Railroad version of the Nuclear Option happens in the context of a Synth rebellion. Narratively, the idea is that not only are Synths people but that they are, just as Railroad believes, slaves and what's happening is a slave revolt in which the Railroad's job mainly is to act as a counterbalance to the Coursers, who are still loyal to the Directorate and (unlike the squishy and generally-incompetent human masters of the Institute) not someone you can just gun down and dominate through basic numerical superiority.

Z1-14 isn't so much an Railroad asset as they are his collaborators in the rebellion, and much of Underground Undercover is basically "stall for time until the Synths have manufactured enough weapons and undergone through enough training in secret to stage the rebellion". By the end of Nuclear Option, the Institute is basically gone. The SRB is more or less wiped out, the other Divisions are either subdued or similarly wiped out. The Synths have won. I fully expected Z1 to, at that point backstab the Railroad and go "yeah by the way we're not blowing up all of Cambridge, thank you for your help but we can deal with it from here."

[dilfgmancoolatta]

say what u will about falliout 3 but the pitt dlc genuinely has one of the best "no good options" choice ive ever seen

[azurdlywisterious]

Love that I jumped the gun and wrote a whole sappy not-really-canon homecoming fic of Danny running into Butch again after blowing up megaton only to decide that what actually happened (him rocking up with a sledgehammer determined as hell) is way more entertaining

[amatres]

instead of the conquest, a show on the blackfyre rebellions, or even maegor would be more interesting. or even focused more on rhaena the lesbian and the black brides. idk, conquest itself just sounds bland. it's a founding myth in my mind, actually watching it play out doesn't really interest me much

[falloutstasis]

That's not where I want to be Part 2

WARNING: light descriptions of a wound

Beverly Hills Precinct Station

Veronica Briscoe was stopped in her tracks when she saw the scene before here. "What the hell is going on here?"

If Kelsey was a betting ghoul, she'd bet on the fact the she won't be getting that precinct tour she was promised.

The gang and the newly 'temporary' detective saw at least 2 Paladins in Power Armor, 3 Knights, 2 Initiates, and 1 Sentinel. That's 8 Brotherhood members who do not look happy.

□ Find out what the Brotherhood are doing at the Beverly Hills Precinct Station.

"Detective Briscoe." The Sentinel, Ezekiel Armstrong, stepped toward Veronica the moment he saw him. "You better give me a damn explanation on why we had to find out one of our own Paladins was gruesomely murdered today by one of the civilians in Beverly Hills."

The team of Detectives were all confused. "That fast, Sentinel? That crime scene happened hours ago. Today!"

The body was already taken away, so where, Kelsey didn't know. What she did know is there's not one happy camper in this room.

"We were told that you found a dog tag of the deceased Paladin."

Briscoe squinted her eyes at Ezekiel. "Who gave you that information?"

"I told you. A civilian."

"You expect us to believe that just some random person gave you information? Seriously?" Johnathan wasn't having it with the Sentinel's excuse. "You guys hardly ever go out, much less talk to anyone! Next thing you're going to tell us is that you want the dog tag right now."

"Actually, Detective Logan. We do want the dog tag. Right now."

"Alright, alright." Kelsey stepped in this time. "Look, Sentinel. That dog tag is evidence and it's not going to you guys anytime soon."

Ezekiel looked absolutely disgusted at the sight of Kelsey, you know, being a ghoul and all. "Who in the hell is this abomination and why is she in this precinct?"

Oh, if this Sentinel was going to act like this....

Kelsey grinned and got right into Ezekiel's face. "I'm going to be the knot at the pit of your stomach if you don't get the hell out of this precinct."

"Enough!"

The Captain in the group of detectives, Leonard McCoy, stepped in the precinct from his office. When everyone turned to him, he too, much like Kelsey was a ghoul.

"Detective Briscoe," He asked, his voice commanding enough to have everyone on their toes. "May I ask why are the Brotherhood are in my precinct?"

"That's a damn good question, Leo." Veronica said, keeping a straight face the whole time.

"I'm here to retrieve the dog tag. It belongs to us."

"It belongs to our John Doe." Leonard said, "I don't know who do you think you are, Sentinel, but this is my precinct. And last time I checked, this is NCR territory not the Brotherhoods. I would appreciate it if you get your little boy and girl scouts the hell out of my precinct. Or do I have to get your father in this and tell him that your interfering with an investigation."

He scoffed and said nothing to Leonard. He looked at his squad and ordered them to leave the precinct. It was amazing how no fight broke out. Kelsey didn't know what kind of leverage or impact Leonard had when it came to this precinct and NCR. The longer she stayed here, the sooner she's going to find out.

■ Find out what the Brotherhood are doing at the Beverly Hills Precinct Station.

"Hey, Vero-" Another Detective, Archie Green, had just arrived in the precinct, confusion and a slight bit of fear in him when he spotted the squad of Brotherhood soldiers coming out of the precinct.

"Did I miss the party or something? What the hell just happened?" He asked.

"Archie, you're late as usual." Veronica scolds, but not without a grin.

"Apparently, they wanted our John Doe's Brotherhood dog tag. And as per usual, our captain got us out of a jam. Big time." Johnathan said with a grin.

"Geez, it was that bad, huh?"

"Yeah! We're lucky no one got vaporized!"

Kelsey rubbed the bridge of her nose and walked slowly towards the back area of the room. "Is it me or are the Brotherhood got more annoy-"

Imagine her surprise when she see's a familiar ghoul, tapping his fingers against desk. He was sitting in an empty chair where no one is using it.

"Boss! What the hell are you doing out of the hotel that I had for us?!"

The Ghoul grinned at her. "I just wanted to see what you were doing."

"And that meant getting no rest? Like you were suppose to?"

He quickly nodded. "Yeah. I come down and see you playing Detective."

"Uh, is that who I think it is?"

Kelsey turned around to see the squad looking at the two. Archie shook his head and mumbled under his breath, "I need more coffee for this."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't 'the Ghoul'." Johnathan squinted his eyes at him, walking pass Kelsey. "If that's even your real name."

The Ghoul didn't even flinch at the sight of Johnathan's 'intimidation' tactics.

"Listen, wiseass," He pointed at him, "Just because your some hotshot bounty hunter, doesn't mean you can do whatever the hell you want, got that?"

"You got a problem with that?" He asked. "With me running my business as a bounty hunter? Minding my business?"

"I got a problem with you because you're just like any other crazy asshole shooting people willy nilly."

The Ghoul was about to get up from his chair, when Kelsey lightly shoved him back into his chair. "Hey, calm down."

She turned to the Detective. "I would appreciate it if you stop badgering my boss."

She moved behind the chair and held on to the backrest. "You guys got like a medical room? I gotta take this senior citizen for his check up on his leg."

The Ghoul looked up at her, more than offended at her comment.

Johnathan sighed and pointed at the door. "When you see an elevator, turn left, then go straight. On the left side, you should see the medical room two doors down."

"Thanks!" With that, she pushed the chair, which helped rolled The Ghoul in the means of a quick transportation to the doctor's office.

"Hey!" Johnathon yelled out. "I'm gonna need that chair back!"

It was barely audible but Kelsey yelled back, "Yeah, yeah!"

Kelsey rolled the chair all the way to the medical room, taking the directions she needed to go there. When she arrived with the Ghoul, no one was there. So she pushed him into the room and placed him near the medical table.

She patted on the leather matters that was on the table. "Up."

The Ghoul begrudgingly hopped on to the medical table and as he laid down, Kelsey brought in anti-biotics, stiches, bandages, and a rag from her bag.

She placed them all on a table beside the medical bed. When she rolled up the sleeve where his leg got shot, up to his thigh. She removed the dirty bandages, took the rag, and went to the sink to turn on the water.

"Did you wobble all the way here, boss?" She asked.

"Hey." The Ghoul only turned his head to the side to look at her. "I was walking mostly fine."

She wet the rag and turned off the water, squeezing it to let the leftover water out of the rag. "Without your crutches?"

"Like I said, I was walking mostly fine."

She returned to the table to clean the wound. She used tweezers and scissors to remove the stitches, slowly pulling them out. When she was done she cleaned it again, adding new stitches on the wound, then wrapping the wound around. She rolled back the sleeve and handed him a Nuka Coka.

"Is this for the radiation?"

"Yeah." She nodded and put everything back in her bag. "As you know, us ghouls can get healed by the radiation. A little bit goes a long way for gun shot wounds like yours."

Well, the Ghoul wasn't going to turn down a free Nuka Coka either way. As he drank it, the two can hear a knock on the door.

"Kelsey! Heads up," Archie is seen holding the door. "Veronica wants us to check out a new lead. Our John Doe has a name, Charlie Dawn, and she found where his sister lives. I'll wait for you outside."

As he left, the Ghoul raised his brow. "Well, I guess you still got to play Detective, Doctor."

"Well, I guess you still gotta play patient, Boss." Kelsey sassed back.

Before she left the room, she pointed at him. "This time, your bounty hunter butt better stay at the hotel room. I don't want you ruining that bandage."

As he usually does, he waved her off. "Yeah, yeah. I know the drill."

When she left the room, the Ghoul actually returned the chair back to the precinct. Before he went the hotel room, he took his own unofficial tour around the building, surveying the rooms before him. There was still other floors that needed to be fixed, at least two or three more before it was complete.

It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it was a different environment that what he's usually used to. When he was at the 5th floor before Kelsey, the other Detectives, and the Brotherhood got there, people were actively and actually working together. He...liked this environment more than he like to admit.

He coldly looked at her surroundings and left towards the elevator, where he would make it back to the shared hotel room in BH Hotel.

[nukaposting]

being a fan musician is fun because i can't draw awesome pictures of my ocs or favs but i can sing little songs about synth rights and hancock

[misaerabl]

Dead Girl Walking

(You do not need to watch Heathers to read this!) Ellie as JD and Reader as Veronica

SUMMARY: You just made the biggest mistake of your high school life: crossing the most popular girl in school. She was supposed to be your friend, but even you couldn’t ignore her ruthless, queen-bee ways. The fallout is inevitable—she’ll not only banish you from the social circle but will likely make your life an endless nightmare. Or worse, she might make you regret you ever dared to challenge her. Knowing that your time in this school, and maybe your life, is running on borrowed hours, you decide to do the unthinkable: live like you’ve got nothing left to lose. You’ve got 30 hours to squeeze every moment out of life before the storm hits, and there’s only one person you can imagine going to—Ellie. Something about her defiance, the way she breaks the rules but still outsmarts everyone, draws you in. If this is your last day, you’re going to spend it doing what you want, consequences be damned. WARNINGS: the characters are fucking insane, fingering, use of those strap-ons where it's double-edged, referring to strap-on as cock and dick, slapping, aggressive sex, mentions of self-harm and suicide, murder, toxic characters! A/N: you don’t really need to watch Heathers for these to make sense, but it does take place in the Heathers universe so it does help if you've watched/know heathers! Also to all the Heathers fans, this isn’t like on the dot completely the same as Heathers, of course. 

Minors and Men DNI / Word Count: 9.4k words

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The thump of the bass pulsed through Heather’s car as she sped down the dimly lit road. The night felt electric, charged with the promise of the unexpected. You leaned against the window, the cool air biting at your skin as Heather drummed her fingers to the beat, impatient as always.

A sharp turn of the wheel, and the car slid smoothly into a 7/11 parking spot. Heather didn’t look at you as she pushed a crisp hundred-dollar bill into your hand.

“Don’t take forever,” she said, her tone laced with irritation. “And get the sour cream and onion chips.”

You slipped out of the car, the chill of the night settling around you as you made your way into the brightly lit store. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in an artificial glow. As you grabbed the chips, your gaze drifted toward the register—and that’s when you saw her.

Ellie was there, leaning casually with a cherry-red Slurpee in hand, her eyes glancing lazily around the store. She was a walking contradiction—messy auburn hair in a half-up, half-down style, clothes that screamed rebellion, yet a calm confidence that belonged to someone who could take on the world. When her eyes met yours, her lips curved into a knowing smirk.

“Hey, Miss Ivy League,” she drawled, her voice a slow, teasing melody.

You felt a grin tug at your lips, despite yourself. “Ellie.” The way her name rolled off your tongue felt familiar and electric, like a spark you hadn’t known you’d been carrying.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

She took a slow sip of her Slurpee, the straw making a low, gurgling sound before she replied. “What, you think I only haunt alleyways and dive bars?” She quirked an eyebrow, the playfulness in her tone offset by something deeper. “Nah, 7/11s are where it’s at.”

You tilted your head, leaning into the banter. “Yeah? What’s so special about neon lights and convenience store hot dogs?”

Ellie chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Consistency. You know, no matter how messed up life gets, there’s always a 7/11 open at 2 a.m. A place that doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t judge.” She lifted her cup, swirling the ice around. “A brain-freeze that reminds you you're still alive, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

The way she said it, with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, made the moment heavy. For a second, it felt like she was letting you peek behind the armor, at the girl who needed the chaos to feel normal.

Before you could reply, Heather’s shout cut through the air. “Hey! I said move it!”

Ellie’s eyes flicked to Heather, and her smirk returned, more mischievous this time. She took another sip, then set the Slurpee down with an exaggerated flourish.

“Remember, Ivy League,” she said, her voice softening, “when the world tries to break you, sometimes you’ve gotta freeze your brain, just to feel something.” Her gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer, her expression almost wistful. “Build walls, but don’t let them lock you in.”

She pushed off the counter, slipping out into the night with the ease of someone who didn’t quite belong anywhere—and liked it that way. The glass door swung shut, leaving you standing there, chips in hand, with her words echoing in your head like the last note of a song.

As you made your way back to Heather’s car, the cold night felt sharper, the air humming with a feeling you couldn’t quite place.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The party at Heather Chandler’s house is blindingly vibrant, neon lights casting deep shadows across the crowded living room. The air buzzes with music and gossip, a mix potent enough to make you feel on edge. You stick to the periphery, watching as Heather Chandler moves through her domain like a queen inspecting her court. Every smile she flashes is calculated, every tilt of her head a silent command.

Then you notice her—Emily Tran, a girl from your AP History class. She’s standing near the snack table, looking uncomfortable, eyes darting around like she doesn’t belong. You remember how she once lent you her notes when you were out sick for a week, her quiet kindness making a rough time a little easier.

Heather Chandler sweeps over, her entourage in tow, McNamara and Duke smirking behind her. Heather’s voice cuts through the chatter, sharp and loud. “Oh, look who decided to show her face here. Did you get lost on your way to the library?” she sneers, the words dripping with mockery. The girls around her laugh, the sound cruel and high-pitched.

Emily’s face flushes, eyes dropping to the floor as she tries to shrink into herself. Something inside you snaps. The sickly sweetness of Chandler’s dominance, her candy-coated cruelty—it’s too much. You step forward, voice clear. “Back off, Chandler,” you say, loud enough for those around to hear. The conversations falter, whispers bubbling up in their place.

Heather Chandler’s eyes snap to yours, narrowing into slits as the music’s beat pulses around you. “Excuse me?” she says, voice cutting through the tension. “Did you just tell me what to do?” The room collectively holds its breath, eyes darting between you and the queen bee.

“Yeah, I did,” you reply, swallowing the fear climbing up your throat. “You don’t get to treat people like that.”

Heather smirks, but there’s no humor in it. Her smile is hard, saccharine, like she’s gearing up to chew you up and spit you out. “Oh, look at you, little hero. Have you forgotten who made you into this? You’ve come so far, clawed your way into my circle, and now you’re turning on me?” Her voice lifts on the last word, as if she can’t believe you would dare.

The crowd gasps, a collective inhale that adds to the pounding in your chest. Heather Duke’s grin widens, enjoying the spectacle, while McNamara looks on with a raised eyebrow, more amused than shocked.

“Do you really think you can play in my world and come out clean?” Heather taunts, louder now, making sure everyone hears. “Because if you think this is over, you’re wrong.”

The room watches, anticipation crackling in the air. Emily’s wide eyes meet yours for a moment, gratitude and worry mixing together.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say, even if your voice trembles at the edges.

Heather lets out a sharp, cold laugh. “Well, you should be,” she whispers, leaning in close enough that only you hear. “Because once I’m done, no one will remember your name.”

With a wave of her hand, she turns away, leaving you standing there, breathless and shaken. The crowd splits to let her pass, the music picking back up as if nothing happened. People shoot you looks—some impressed, some sympathetic, but most afraid to even acknowledge what just unfolded.

The adrenaline only carries you so far. You push your way out of the suffocating room, past curious eyes and muffled whispers, until the cool night air hits your face. Your heart is a drum, thundering in your chest as you move down the dark, empty street, the confrontation replaying over and over.

You didn’t think. You didn’t plan. Your feet moved on their own, driven by the panic coursing through your veins. The fight with Heather left a gnawing emptiness in your chest, every harsh word, every sidelong glance, looping over and over in your mind. Thirty hours till Monday, till consequences came crashing down. You couldn’t tell if your life was over metaphorically or if you were teetering on the edge of something far worse.

But Ellie. She was the one person who made things make sense, who managed to pull you back from the spiraling mess your mind created. You didn't know what you expected from going to her house—comfort, distraction, maybe just to see a face that didn’t make you feel like the world was caving in.

As you stumbled into her neighborhood, the streetlights casting pale glows on the pavement, your eyes caught the lone tree leaning against the side of her house. You didn’t know why you chose to climb it, only that the ache in your chest wouldn’t let you just walk up to the front door. You scrambled up, bark scraping your palms, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to just you and the rush of adrenaline. Each foothold, each rough branch digging into your skin felt grounding, tangible, and real.

At the top, you hovered by her window, the realization of what you’d done crashing in. You knocked softly, heart racing. The sheer absurdity of it all struck you; you hadn’t been to Ellie’s house before, hadn’t so much as looked up her address, and yet, somehow, you were here.

The curtain shifted, revealing Ellie’s face. Surprise sparked in her eyes before melting into worry, then something else you couldn’t quite place. She pushed the window open, her voice a whisper.

“What are you doing?” A smile flickered, half-bemused and half-concerned, tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed, caught in the mess of panic and exhaustion. You looked at her, the one steady thing left, and swallowed the tremor in your voice.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you admit, the tightness in your throat making your voice crack. You’re hyperaware of the seconds ticking by, of the clock that seems to be counting down the hours left until Monday—until everything Heather promised becomes real. But right now, in the glow of Ellie’s room, it feels like maybe the world can stop, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to catch your breath.

Ellie’s eyes shift, scanning your face as if reading every fear, every question you’re too afraid to say out loud. The look on her face—half worry, half resolve—reminds you why you came here, why you needed to see her. You need someone who knows the real you, someone who can ground you when the floor falls out from under your feet. And right now, Ellie is the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely.

She steps back, making room as you slip inside. The glow from her bedside lamp paints her room in warm golds and deep shadows. Ellie crosses her arms, eyes searching yours. 

Without thinking, you move closer to her, your heart thudding louder with each step.

Ellie pauses mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you—?”

Before she can finish, you’re kissing her, your lips crashing against hers with a sudden urgency. It’s frantic, unexpected, and entirely out of nowhere. The shock in Ellie’s eyes is evident, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she stiffens, her hands hovering uncertainly as if she’s unsure of what to do with the sudden intimacy.

You pull back just a fraction, breathing heavily, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. “I—I don’t know why I did that,” you stammer, your pulse erratic.

Ellie looks at you, confusion flashing in her eyes. “How the hell did you even find my address?”

You blink, thrown off by her question. Of course, she’d wonder. You hadn’t exactly planned this. “I—uh—Student Files…” you admit, a bit embarrassed, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s... kind of a weird story.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her confusion shifting into curiosity.

“I—well, I helped Mrs. Turner with the student records for a while. She needed an extra hand with some administrative stuff, so she let me go through the files a few times. It was mostly just sorting things, but I guess I kind of memorized some of the addresses along the way.” You swallow, trying to steady your breath. “I—I didn’t think about it at the time, but when I got here... I just remembered yours.”

Ellie stares at you for a long moment, her lips parted slightly in disbelief. “You’re telling me you broke into my address book from some random school paperwork?”

You wince, feeling a rush of heat spread across your face. “Yeah, I guess that sounds bad when you put it like that.”

She snorts, shaking her head in a mix of disbelief and amusement. “That’s... honestly a little creepy.”

“I know, I’m not proud of it,” you say quickly, guilt bubbling up, “but I swear, it wasn’t like that. I just—needed to get away from everything. And you... you’re the only person who doesn’t seem like they’ll judge me for it.”

Ellie falls silent, her eyes narrowing, but not in anger. She’s just processing, trying to make sense of what just happened. Finally, she shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess I'm stuck with you now. Might as well make the most of it."

You exhale a shaky breath, relieved that she’s not freaking out. The tension between you is still there, but somehow, it feels like something else is shifting, too—a kind of quiet understanding.

You’re both sitting beside each other on her bed now, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Ellie watches you, her gaze steady, but there’s a hint of curiosity behind it. The silence stretches between you two, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders—the fight with Heather, the pressure of the thirty hours looming over you. It’s too much to handle on your own, and in this moment, you need something, anything, to make it stop.

You could still back out, apologize, and explain that you didn’t mean to make things awkward. But you don’t want to. You don’t want to walk away from this feeling like you're still running from your own choices.

In one sudden, impulsive motion, you push Ellie back onto her bed. The action is quick, almost reckless, and she gasps, taken off guard as her body sinks into the soft sheets. You move on top of her, your hands still shaking slightly as you hold yourself above her. Her eyes widen in confusion, and for a moment, she seems unsure of what just happened.

The heat rises to your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from her. For the first time in what feels like forever, you're not thinking about anything else. Your mind is too full of the chaos in your chest to focus on anything but this moment.

"What the hell?" Ellie breathes, her voice a little breathless, but there’s no anger, no rejection. There’s only surprise, and maybe something else you can’t quite place. She doesn’t push you away. Instead, she just stares up at you, lips parted, waiting for you to say something.

The room feels smaller now, the air thicker, and your pulse is pounding in your ears. You’ve crossed some invisible line, but you’re not sorry for it. You’ve gone too far to care about what happens next.

"I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore," you murmur, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "I’m done trying to please everyone."

Ellie blinks, her gaze shifting from confusion to something else—something softer, but there’s a challenge in her eyes now, like she’s trying to figure you out. “What’s gotten into you?” she asks, voice quieter, but still probing, looking for answers.

But you don’t have one. Not really. All you know is that, in this moment, you want to feel something—anything—other than the fear and pressure that’s been crushing you. You need to feel alive again, even if just for a few minutes.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

You know exactly when it all started—the moment you first felt something for Ellie. It was in the cafeteria, and you’ll never forget it. Ram and Kurt, two of the biggest assholes in school, had cornered someone—probably just because they could. The usual bullying, the usual sneers. But then, for the first time, you saw Ellie.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t hesitate. Even when they tried to intimidate her, Ellie stood her ground, her voice sharp, her posture a quiet defiance. When Ram made the mistake of getting too close, Ellie didn’t back down. She swung a fist at him—hard.

You watched the whole thing, frozen in your seat, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just the fight that caught your attention. It was the way she carried herself—the raw, unapologetic confidence she exuded, even in the heat of it. You weren’t exactly a fan of people who get into fights, but damn... in that moment, Ellie was something else.

Something that made your chest tighten, and for the first time, you weren’t sure whether you were scared or impressed.

One thing is for sure though, seeing that scene… Made you so fucking wet. 

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The moments were flooding your mind—those stolen glances, the subtle touches, the things left unsaid. They were all piling up on you, overwhelming you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It felt like everything had led to this point: you, on top of Ellie in her bed.

Her breath hitched, and for a split second, everything around you froze. Your heart hammered in your chest, the rush of blood in your ears drowning out everything else. There was something electric in the air between you two, something that had been building for what felt like ages, but you hadn’t known how to recognize it until now.

Ellie was looking up at you, her eyes wide, lips parted. But there was something in her expression that you couldn’t place—was it fear? Or was it something else? You couldn’t tell, but you couldn’t pull away now. Not when everything felt so intense, so real.

You’d spent so many nights wondering what it would be like to finally be close to her, to feel her warmth, to understand what it was that pulled you in. But now that you were here, with her beneath you, everything—every little moment, every glance—crashed down on you all at once, and you couldn’t think straight.

Her hand found your shoulder, not to push you away but to pull you closer. The world around you seemed to shrink until all that existed was you and her, suspended in a shared tension you didn’t know how to escape. There were no words, just the raw intensity of the moment, the feeling of being trapped in something you hadn’t fully understood until now.

And just like that, all your self-control, all your attempts to hold back, evaporated. You couldn’t think of anything but her—only Ellie, and the pull between you two that had been simmering in silence for so long.

Ellie’s hand tightened on your shoulder, her eyes never leaving yours. The room seemed to grow quieter, the outside world fading into nothingness. You could hear her breath catch, a clear sign that she wasn’t immune to the weight of the moment.

“You’re going to be my last meal on earth, Ellie Williams,” you whispered, your voice raw and unsteady.

Ellie's eyes darkened with desire as she watched you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. Smirking, she reached up and tore the fabric open, buttons flying everywhere. "I hope you know this is going to create one hell of a mess," she breathed, her fingers trailing down your chest.

Ellie's hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. She hooked a leg around your waist, pulling you flush against her. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" she growled, nipping at your bottom lip. I've been wanting to do this for so long.

“I know. let's fucking break this bed… You won't be getting any sleep tonight you know?” Her eyes widen at your sudden boldness, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She knows you’re not the type to throw caution to the wind like this. Something’s different about you tonight—more raw, more desperate. Ellie studies you for a moment as if trying to decipher the shift in your demeanor.

"Has that fight with Heather really gotten to you this much?" she asks, voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

You can see the question hanging in the air between you, her eyes searching for the truth. “Do you really believe the Heathers would go that far? That they'd actually try to destroy you over something this stupid?”

Her gaze is sharp, unrelenting. You’ve always known Ellie as the type who doesn’t just take things at face value—she digs, pulls, challenges. But tonight, she seems almost... protective, as if she can sense just how badly this whole mess has broken you. You didn’t come here just to escape the night. You came because you truly believed your life was about to end. 

Nobody could control you. Not even yourself. 

You tossed your shirt away, lifting yourself off Ellie for a bit to slip off your panties. Ellie lifted her hips to help you push her pants down, kicking them off the bed. "You're so impatient,”

“I need you…” You leaned in and whispered in her ear, kissing her neck aggressively. 

Ellie moaned softly, her nails digging into your back. "Well, how can I resist such a request?" she purred, unhooking your bra. 

Ellie's back arched as you pushed two fingers into her, her body clenching around them, making her hiss at the suddenness. She nipped at your breast, her moans muffled by your curves.

Ellie's free hand reached down to join yours, her thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles as she fucks herself with your fingers. The sounds of her eating your tits and the wet squelching of your fingers in her pussy fill the room. “Fuck...fuck...fuck…”

Ellie's hips bucked against your hand, her breath coming in short pants. "Harder..." she hissed, biting down on your flesh. Her hand gripped your wrist, guiding you to that magical spot inside her. 

You started moving even faster, more aggressively, making the cheap bed squeak and move. You moaned as she sucked your nipples. 

Ellie cried out sharply as an intense orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your fingers. She released your nipple with a gasp, burying her face against your neck. "Holy shit...holy shit…” 

You chuckle, staring at her as you lick your fingers. 

Ellie's eyes were glued to your mouth as you licked her juices off your fingers, her chest heaving. “You're...you're so hot," she stammered, her hand sliding down to cup you between your legs. She found you soaking. “My turn.”

Ellie pushed you onto your back, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she nestled between your thighs. She teasingly blew cooling air across your heated flesh, making you shiver.

"Make me—Make me scream so fucking loud, the neighbors will think we're murdering each other,”

Ellie winked mischievously. "Challenge accepted." She dove in, her tongue lapping at your glistening folds, probing and teasing. Two fingers plunged deep inside you, curling just right to hit that perfect spot. "Mmmm…”

Ellie pulled back, a strand of your juices clinging to her lips. She stood up, her eyes gleaming with a hungry intensity. “Why'd you fucking stop?” You asked. 

She smirked as she reached for her large strap-on, buckling it around her waist. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet. I'm just getting started." Ellie stroked the thick cock, grinning wickedly.

Ellie grabbed your legs, hiking them over her shoulders. She ran the head of the strap-on through your folds, coating it with your slick heat. She leaned forward, bracing one hand beside your head, the other gripping your thigh.

Ellie slowly pushed forward, her eyes locked onto yours as she stretched you wide. "So...tight," she grunted, feeling you clench around the intrusion. "Relax for me, baby. You can take it." She leaned down to kiss you, muffling your moans. 

“Fuck yeah I can” 

Ellie smirked against your lips, slowly pulling back before slamming forward with a grunt. "That's it, fuck yeah," she panted, setting a hard, fast pace. The room filled with the slap of flesh and your cries of pleasure. "Scream for me,”

“Let me ride your cock…” 

Ellie pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your hands and knees before grabbing your hips and pulling you back onto the strap-on. "You want to ride, huh? Then ride," She sat back, guiding you to bounce on her lap as she held your hips steady.

Her hands tightened on your hips, controlling your pace as you rode her. "That's it, bounce that ass on my dick," She growled, leaning forward to grab your hair and yank your head back. "Look at me while you ride me, damn it.”

You were in shock at her sudden demeanor, but you fucking loved it. You stared into her eyes as you made pornographic noises, gripping the sheets… 

“Fuck I think you tore my mattress” Ellie chuckled darkly, a bead of sweat trickling down her brow as you tossed your head back. 

“Just get a new one…” You mumbled. “You're not fucking sleeping tonight. Make yourself useful for me, Williams!”

"Damn, you're insatiable tonight, aren't you?" Ellie smirked, gripping your hips tighter as she rolled her own, changing the angle of penetration.

"Fuck, just like that," Ellie panted, one hand snaking around to toy with your clit as she continued to relentlessly pound into you. "You're gonna make me cum, riding my cock so good like this.”

“Yeah…? Good.” 

Her words trailed off into a growl as her other hand grabbed your thigh, spreading your legs wider to accommodate her powerful thrusts. "Shit, shit, shit..." She grunted, her body tensing up as she prepared to erupt inside you.

At this point, the only thing you two could hear were the lewd noises you were making and the bed creaking. It's as if the whole town has disappeared.

For some fucked up reason all you could think about was…

“Slap me” You mutter under your breath. 

“What?” Ellie replied confused at your request.

“I said slap me!” 

Ellie's rhythm faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked back at you. "You... you want me to slap you?" She asked, her voice hesitant, checking for consent even in the heat of the moment.

“Yes! Come on just do it” You take her hands and lead them to your face.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was something you actually wanted, before finally giving in to your demand. "Fuck, alright..." She brought her hand up and slapped you across the face, the loud crack echoing through the room. "There?”

“Harder” 

Her hand came crashing down against your face again, harder this time. Her handprint was already visible on your cheek.

“Fuck… Yes!” You scream, tossing your head back, picking up your pace as you continue to ride her. 

She looked at you with confusion and fascination, her hand still stinging from the force of the slap. 

Ellie's eyes widened as she realized what was happening. A dark smirk spread across her face. "Oh, You're into that, huh?" She grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, exposing your neck which she bit down hard. 

You continued to bounce on her lap. Ellie's movements became more erratic as she struggled to keep up with your demanding pace. She slapped your face again, and again, each blow landing with a loud crack. "Fuck, what's gotten into you?!" She screamed, her voice hoarse from exertion.

Her grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your flesh as she pulled you down harder onto her with each upward thrust. Her own breathing was ragged, punctuated by grunts and growls as she fought to maintain control. "Answer me... " She hissed through gritted teeth.

“I'm a dead girl Ellie… In a few hours, I'll be nothing but a memory” 

Ellie's face contorted with emotion. She wrapped an arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back. She loomed over you, her eyes filled with a mix of passion and determination. "Then we'll make these next few hours count," she whispered hoarsely.

With a fierce intensity, she began to move inside you once more. Her touch was both tender and demanding as if she were trying to brand the moment into both of your memories. "Look at me..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of their joining.

Ellie leaned down, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath mingling with yours as she continued to fill you. Her hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing as she looked deep into your eyes. “Look at me…” She panted, her pace quickening as she neared her release.

Ellie's movements became more erratic, her grip on your throat tightening slightly as she felt her climax approaching. Her eyes, usually so fierce and intimidating, now held a vulnerability that took your breath away. "Fuck... I can't... I'm gonna…”

Her words turned into a guttural moan as she buried her face in the crook of your neck, her body convulsing as she found her release. The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your fingers digging into her back as you came undone beneath her.

Spent, Ellie collapsed on top of you, her weight grounding you in the moment as both of you struggled to catch your breath. The room was thick with the shared silence of heartbeats and whispered sighs. After a while, she shifted, rolling onto her side and pulling you into the circle of her arms so that your faces were inches apart on the same pillow. Her gaze found yours, unreadable yet intense, as though she were searching for an answer you hadn’t yet asked.

You let out a soft laugh, breaking the silence. “I should probably apologize to Heather, right?” Your words hung in the air, teasing, with a hint of guilt.

Ellie’s lips quirked up, but her eyes stayed serious, studying you as if memorizing each line of your face. “Apologize? For what? For not being a bitch like her?” She tilted her head, the question more genuine than you expected.

A silence settled between you, heavy but not unwelcome. Her hand brushed over your arm, fingertips tracing lazy patterns that sent shivers down your spine. The moment felt fragile like it could shatter under the weight of what was left unspoken.

“Maybe she’ll forgive me.” you finally said, voice softer now.

Ellie’s expression softened, the edge slipping from her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “What matters is now.” She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the touch lingering as if trying to convey everything she couldn’t say out loud.

You closed your eyes, sinking into the warmth of her, the world outside forgotten. Whatever storm awaited beyond these four walls, you knew you’d face it when the time came. But for now, in this stolen moment, the rest of the world could wait.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The sun was still low in the sky when you pulled on yesterday’s clothes, feeling the fabric cling to you like a reminder of the night before. Ellie shot you a glance from across the room, a smirk tugging at her lips as she threw on her jacket and grabbed the keys to her dad’s old car.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice husky with the remnants of sleep.

You nodded, a tightness in your stomach as the reality of facing Heather settled in. The drive was silent except for the rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, Ellie’s fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel. You caught yourself glancing at her profile, the early morning light outlining the sharp line of her jaw. It stirred a strange mix of dread and comfort in you, like everything was about to change.

Heather’s front door stood slightly ajar, swinging gently in the breeze, as if even the house was recovering from the chaos of the night before. You exchanged a quick look with Ellie before climbing the familiar steps to Heather’s room. You knocked, the sound loud in the silence. A moment later, Heather appeared, her eyes rimmed with red, bleary with sleep. Her gaze shifted between you and Ellie, confusion furrowing her brow. Then, the realization hit—betrayal mixed with something darker.

“Why are you here… with her?” Heather muttered, her voice hoarse.

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Ellie before meeting Heather’s gaze. “I came to apologize,” you said, the words tumbling out quickly, awkwardly.

Heather’s eyes narrowed, skepticism battling the exhaustion on her face. She sighed, rubbing her temple. “My head is killing me,” she groaned, dismissing the tension for the moment.

“I’ll get you something for that,” you volunteered quickly, relieved to have an excuse to escape the weight of her glare. Ellie followed you down the stairs, her presence a familiar shadow at your back.

As you rummaged through the kitchen, pulling out random ingredients in a half-hearted attempt at a hangover cure, Ellie leaned against the counter, one eyebrow raised. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” she teased.

You shot her a tired smile. “Not even a little.”

She laughed, the sound sharp and unexpected in the otherwise quiet house. She spotted something in the cabinet, a bottle in her hand, her eyes glinting with mischief. “How about we give her this?” she joked, waving it like a prize, before pouring it into a cup.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly reached out, batting her hand away. “No, fuck, I’m not going to kill Heather,” you said, exasperated. You set the cup down on the counter, the tension in your chest loosening slightly at her playful grin.

Ellie’s expression softened, and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Relax, I was just kidding.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just grab the cup and let’s go.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing the cup without a second glance as you led the way back upstairs. Heather was still sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the cup Ellie handed her. She hesitated for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously before taking a long sip.

It only took a few seconds for her face to go pale. Her eyes widened in horror, and she gasped, a strangled noise tearing from her throat before she collapsed, crumpling to the floor.

Time seemed to stop. You froze, heart hammering in your chest as reality crashed over you in icy waves.

“Oh my God, Heather!” you shouted, rushing to her side, shaking her lightly.

Ellie stood frozen, her eyes wide, the cup rolling to a stop at her feet. The room spun, and panic surged in your chest. The weight of the moment hit you all at once.

You fumbled for Heather’s wrist, your hands trembling as you felt for a pulse, even though you knew Ellie had already checked. The silence that followed was deafening, pressing in on you like a vice. Panic clawed at your throat as you stumbled backward, staring at Heather’s lifeless body on the floor.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, voice cracking. “This is it. My future… it’s over. We’re screwed.” The words rushed out in jagged breaths, and tears stung your eyes.

Ellie dropped to her knees beside Heather, her face pale but composed, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “Hey, hey. We’re not doing this,” she snapped, looking up at you. “We’re not giving up.”

You shook your head, fingers running through your hair. “Ellie, she’s dead. There’s no coming back from this. We need to turn ourselves in and tell them it was a mistake. Maybe—”

“No,” Ellie’s voice cut through your spiral like a knife. Her eyes locked onto yours, fierce and unyielding. “That won’t work, and you know it. No one’s going to believe this was an accident, especially not with our history.”

You swallowed hard, her words sinking in. She was right. It didn’t matter that it was an honest mistake; nobody would buy it. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as the reality of the situation set in.

Ellie’s gaze flicked to Heather’s desk, cluttered with remnants of last night’s party—crumpled notes, an empty bottle, a pen lying askew. An idea sparked in her eyes, wild and desperate. “We have to make this look like it was her choice,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “We need a note.”

Your stomach twisted. “What? Ellie, no. That’s insane.”

“It’s the only way,” she insisted, stepping closer. Her hands found yours, squeezing tight enough to ground you, even in the chaos. “Listen to me. You’re good at this—you know how to make it look real.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you met her eyes. They were wide with fear, but steady with resolve. You pulled away, pacing the room as her plan took shape in your mind. The thought of forging a suicide note felt sickening, but the image of everything you’d worked for slipping away was worse.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, voice cracking as you reached for the crumpled notebook on Heather’s desk. You picked up the pen, your fingers numb against the cold metal.

Ellie hovered behind you, her voice a whisper in the silence. “We don’t have a choice.”

Your hands shook as you opened Heather’s notebook, filled with neat handwriting, doodles, and half-finished notes from classes you all shared. The sight of it twisted your stomach into knots. You glanced at Ellie, who was pacing behind you, her footsteps restless on the creaking floorboards.

“Write this down,” she said, her voice strained but sharp. “Something about how no one really knows her. How they only see her for her looks, her parties, but never who she really is.”

You nodded mutely, the words flowing from the pen as if it had a mind of its own. Each sentence felt like a betrayal, but you couldn’t stop. Your mind swirled with memories of Heather—flashes of her laughter, the way her eyes crinkled when she was truly happy. The notebook beneath your hands felt like a violation, turning those memories into something twisted.

Ellie leaned over your shoulder, reading the words as they took shape. “‘I just wish someone could see me beyond the mask I wear every day,’” she added softly, a tremor in her voice.

You glanced at her, and for a moment, you saw something in her eyes—vulnerability, maybe even regret. But she didn’t look away. She couldn’t afford to.

You finished with a trembling signature, one that mirrored Heather’s, your heart pounding so hard it felt as though it was echoing in your ears. The note was done.

Ellie exhaled shakily, stepping back. “This… this has to work,” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

You stood frozen, clutching the notebook like both a lifeline and a curse. The room felt colder, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, impossible to ignore.

The note sat on Heather’s desk, the ink still drying. You and Ellie exchanged a glance heavy with fear and silent understanding. Your heart hammered in your chest, every instinct screaming for you to run, to put as much distance as possible between yourselves and this room.

“Let’s go,” Ellie whispered, her voice tight, urgent. She grabbed your hand, grounding you enough to snap you from your stupor.

You stumbled out of Heather’s room, casting one last glance at her lifeless form sprawled on the floor. The sight twisted in your stomach, but there was no time to dwell on it now. Every step down the stairs felt like an eternity, the creaking floorboards and muffled noises from the outside world blending into a nauseating symphony.

As you reached the front door, morning light filtered through the glass, illuminating the remnants of the party—empty cups, forgotten jackets, a broken picture frame. You swallowed hard and pushed the door open, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

Ellie’s grip on your hand tightened as you both hurried down the driveway. She didn’t let go until you reached her dad’s car parked a few houses down. The two of you climbed inside, and Ellie fumbled with the keys, her fingers trembling as she shoved them into the ignition.

The engine roared to life, cutting through the morning silence as she pulled away with a jerky start. You couldn’t look back; you didn’t dare. The road ahead blurred as your vision swam, the reality of what you’d just done slamming into you with full force.

The silence between you and Ellie was suffocating, filled with all the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. Finally, after a long stretch of tense moments, Ellie spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

“We’re going to be okay. We have to be.”

You stared out the window, the familiar streets of your neighborhood passing by like scenes from someone else’s life. The weight of the lie you’d just created pressed down on you, an unshakable truth that would follow you both, no matter how far you drove.

The car sped down the road, the hum of the engine doing nothing to drown out the thundering beat of your heart. You clenched your fists in your lap, knuckles white as the gravity of what had happened sank in. The silence was unbearable.

Finally, the words burst out of you in a shaky gasp. “What the fuck have we done, Ellie?” Your voice trembled, cracking under the weight of your panic. Admitting it aloud made everything feel too real, like saying it would bring everything crashing down.

Ellie’s jaw tightened, her eyes fixed on the road, but you could see her hands shaking where they gripped the steering wheel. She swallowed hard, taking a breath as her neck tensed. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice fragile as the morning light seeping through the windshield. “I don’t know, but we did what we had to.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as you looked at her, searching for answers that weren’t there. “Had to? Ellie, we just—”

“Stop.” Her voice was sharp now, cutting through your panic like a knife. She glanced at you, eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. “If we break now, it’s over. We have to hold it together, alright? Just… just breathe.”

But how could you? How could you breathe when the weight of what you’d done sat so heavily on your chest? The road stretched endlessly before you, each passing moment taking you further from Heather’s house and deeper into a future you couldn’t begin to understand.

The silence that followed Ellie’s words was deafening, a chasm between you. Your vision blurred, and you turned your gaze toward the window, watching the neighborhood blur into smears of familiar shapes. Memories of Heather flooded in, each one twisting the knife deeper.

Heather Chandler. Larger than life, with her sharp sarcasm and effortless command of any room. The girl who annoyed you endlessly with her need for attention, but who had also shown up at your house with ice cream and a playlist of your favorite songs when you had a bad day. You’d shared secrets, inside jokes, late-night talks when the world felt safe.

Despite her flaws, Heather had always been your best friend. She could be self-absorbed, reckless even, but you knew behind the façade was someone just as scared and insecure as anyone else. She trusted you in ways she didn’t trust anyone else, and in a twisted irony, that trust now lay shattered on her bedroom floor.

A lump rose in your throat, guilt clawing at you with an intensity that was almost unbearable. “She was my friend, Ellie,” you choked out, your voice thick with grief. “My best friend.”

Ellie’s expression hardened, eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to the road. She didn’t say anything, and the silence that filled the car was deafening. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand; you knew Ellie well enough to know she carried her own shadows. But right now, understanding didn’t change what had been done.

Heather was your best friend, and now she was gone. A casualty of a moment that had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even breathe.

Ellie’s eyes flared with frustration, and her hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles white. She snapped her gaze to you.

"Seriously?" she barked, her voice laced with frustration. "A few hours ago, you were freaking out about Heather trying to tear you apart. You thought she was gonna come after you, right? That she was out to ruin your life, and now you're losing your shit because—what? Because she’s gone?”

The words hit you like a slap. She was right. That’s exactly how you’d felt—like Heather’s rage was a ticking time bomb, and you couldn’t breathe without thinking she was waiting for the right moment to make your life hell. But now, everything was different.

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, her voice rising, becoming sharper. “We took care of that problem, and now you're acting like it’s the end of the world?” She laughed, but it was bitter, almost a sneer. “Are you really this worried about killing someone when a few hours ago you were terrified she was gonna ruin your life?”

The truth hit you like a cold wave. You had been consumed by fear of Heather’s wrath, so focused on her anger, so terrified she’d destroy everything you’d worked for. And now, somehow, she was... gone. Just like that.

But that didn’t make this better. It didn’t make it right.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. How could you explain to Ellie that, even though Heather had been a threat, she had still been your friend? How could you say that this was a mistake, an irreversible one, no matter how much you tried to justify it?

Ellie’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, colder now than before. “Make a decision,” she said, voice steely. “Either you're with me, and we handle this, or you lose it and ruin everything. No middle ground. Pick one.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. There was no turning back. You could feel the tension crackling between you, daring you to say the wrong thing.

You stared at her, at the frantic energy in her eyes, and for a moment, you almost wanted to pull away, to scream at her to take responsibility, to make this right. But deep down, you knew that would only make everything worse. And a part of you—the part that had once feared Heather—knew that sticking by Ellie was the only way to survive this.

You took a slow, shaky breath and met her gaze, locking eyes. You didn’t speak, because you both knew there was nothing left to say. The promise was unspoken, but it was there. Both of you understood it in the silence that filled the car.

Never again. That was the promise. No one could ever know. Not Heather’s family, not your friends, not anyone. This was the end of Heather Chandler—and the end of the lives you’d known before this moment.

You could feel it, the weight of it settling in your chest. But there was no way out now. So, as much as you hated it, as much as it twisted your insides, you nodded. The promise was sealed between you and Ellie.

A promise that would haunt you both... forever?

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

A week later, it felt like the whole town was playing a part in a twisted play where everyone pretended Heather Chandler was some tragic saint. In reality, she had been anything but. Heather’s smile was sharp, a weapon she wielded as easily as a laugh. She was untouchable, rich, popular, and cruel when she wanted to be—which was often.

But now, the school halls were lined with flowers, photos of her with wide grins and perfect hair, as if she had been everyone’s best friend. As if she hadn’t left a trail of bruised egos and whispered stories behind her. The memorial was set to take place in the gym, with its polished floor and banners that Heather herself had probably ordered others to hang while she stood back with a critical eye.

You sat at your desk, the speech paper in front of you nearly crumpled from the force of your grip. You were expected to speak, to stand in front of everyone and tell them who Heather had been. Not the girl who snapped at you during rehearsals or spread rumors just for entertainment. Not the Heather who wielded secrets like knives, knowing exactly where to cut. But the version of her that the school wanted to remember—sanitized and perfect.

"Heather Chandler was... complicated," you wrote, then scratched it out immediately. The truth couldn't live in this speech; it wasn’t allowed to. What people wanted, what they needed, was a story that fit their idea of her. A tale that made sense of the mourning, justified the tears. And so you wrote a lie instead.

"Heather was a leader, a voice that demanded to be heard. She pushed those around her to be better, even when it was hard to see."

Your stomach twisted as you read it back. It was true, in a way. Heather did push people—but only when it served her. And yet, the guilt coiled tighter, because even if she had been sharp and demanding, even if she'd hurt others more times than you could count, she hadn't deserved this.

Ellie’s idea to forge the note had seemed like the only way out that morning. You’d done it, hands shaking so hard you thought the pen might break. And now, that act hung over you both like a storm cloud, pressing down on every breath.

The knock at your door barely registered. "Sweetheart, it's time to go," your mom said softly, unaware of the storm raging inside you. You forced yourself up, folding the paper into neat, straight lines, as if by making it perfect, you could convince yourself that it was okay to stand up there and tell this story.

As you walked into the gym, eyes followed you, their faces expectant, tearful, pretending that Heather had been something more than she was. Your gaze met Ellie’s from across the room, and for a moment, the mask slipped—both of you wearing the same haunted look. You knew that as you spoke the words written in shaky pen strokes, the real Heather would remain forgotten, buried under a lie that bound you and Ellie together forever.

“Heather... was my best friend,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to make it believable. The gym was silent, the air thick with the weight of collective grief and whispered memories. You took a shaky breath, feeling every eye on you, watching, waiting. “I had no idea she was struggling like this.”

The tears that welled up stung, but they weren’t for Heather. They were for the guilt gnawing at you, tearing through your chest like a beast. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be doing this. Because beneath the surface, behind the eulogy and the sympathetic nods from the crowd, you knew the truth. You knew that you were the one who had killed her—accident or not.

As the words spilled from your lips, painting a picture of a girl who was kinder, more misunderstood than she ever was, your throat tightened. You blinked rapidly, letting a tear fall, and from the murmurs and shifting bodies, you knew it had the intended effect. The speech ended with a final echo, your voice cracking at the right moment.

The teacher stepped forward, a solemn smile on her face, and spoke. “Thank you for that beautiful tribute. We know this is a difficult time for everyone. The school counselor will be available for anyone who needs to talk.”

You descended the podium, the weight in your chest pressing heavier than before. The applause felt hollow, a charade, just like everything else.

Ellie found you by the corner of the room as people began to disperse, some going up to lay flowers, others wiping tears. She sidled up next to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re such a good actor, you know that?” The words had an edge, sharp enough to make you flinch.

You raised an eyebrow, your expression hardening. “Those were real tears, Ellie. This... what we did... it’s eating me alive.”

Ellie’s smirk fell, her eyes narrowing. “She was a fucking asshole to you, to everyone. Maybe she deserved it.”

Her words struck you like a slap. Memories flooded back—the way Heather had humiliated you in front of others, the cruel jokes, the power she wielded like a weapon. But you shook your head, the panic creeping up your spine. “No, Ellie. Not like this.”

A shadow crossed Ellie’s face, and she looked away, her jaw clenched. The silence between you stretched uncomfortably. Then a thought slammed into you with such force that it made your stomach churn. That morning, before it all unraveled, Ellie had joked about giving Heather the wrong cup—the one with your experiment, the mixture that was never meant to be ingested. At the time, you’d laughed it off, thinking it was just dark humor.

But what if it wasn’t a joke? What if she hadn’t made a mistake at all?

Your heart raced, the blood thundering in your ears. What if this wasn’t an accident, but something much darker? You glanced at Ellie, whose eyes remained distant, a coldness settling there that you hadn’t noticed before. And for the first time, you realized you didn’t know her as well as you thought.

Ellie’s eyes, once so familiar, glistened with something unreadable as the tension crackled between you. She turned back, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, the gym, the memorial, and the hushed sobs around you all faded away. It was just the two of you, bound by the secret that threatened to suffocate you both.

“I would do anything to protect you,” she said, her voice low and steady, but with a strange, fervent edge. The words sent a shiver racing down your spine as if she’d just revealed a part of herself you weren’t supposed to see.

Ellie’s words lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and suffocating. You searched her face for any hint of guilt, any sign that she was as trapped in this as you were. But instead, there was a flicker of something else—something more complicated. Protective, maybe. Defiant. But not malicious.

The realization loosened something in your chest, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter if Ellie had meant it, if the poison had only been meant as a scare tactic, a mistake. The fact remained that Heather was dead, and the weight of that truth was too much to carry.

“It’s over, Ellie,” you said, your voice hollow, almost mechanical. The words tasted bitter, final. Her eyes widened, the mask slipping for just a second to show the raw shock underneath.

“What do you mean?” Her tone cracked, breaking through the confidence she always wore like armor.

You shook your head, stepping back as if the distance could somehow cleanse the guilt seeping into your bones. “I can’t do this. I can’t look at you and pretend everything is okay. We’re done, Ellie. I don’t want any contact with you anymore.”

Her face fell, the sharp edges softening with a kind of disbelief. “But I—”

“No,” you cut her off, each word like a knife. “I don’t care what your reasons were. We crossed a line, and I can’t come back from that. I don’t want to.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched, her hands balling into fists at her sides. For a moment, you thought she might argue, try to convince you that she did what she did out of love, out of loyalty. But instead, she nodded slowly, the acceptance stinging more than any fight could have.

“Fine,” she said, voice tight and low. “If that’s what you want.”

You turned and walked away before she could see the tears that threatened to fall again—this time for everything you’d lost, everything you could never take back.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

Part Two??

Tag List : @mimasroom2 @pixelllliess @elliessgfsstuff @abandonedstars1

A/N : okay guys it's like 1am and i have to wake up at 4 for school. I hope you guys enjoy this! (ps. i only tagged people who said they wanted to get tagged!)

[itsabouttimex2]

MK and Mei’s Friendship

Wukong and Macaque’s Fallout

Mei isn’t the next “warrior”, and she would 100% beat your ass for implying she’s like Macaque

I’m going to preface this for anyone who might want to leave early- I personally dislike this theory!

Because to me, it isn’t a theory- it’s just wrong.

And usually it’s so wrong that it shatters the reality of MK’s and Mei’s character for the sake of forcing them into little “Sun Wukong” and “Macaque” shaped balls.

And so often it starts with demonizing MK/Wukong.

I see, so often, this portrayed in two ways:

1. MK loses his mind and becomes a vicious monster that must be collared and restrained for the good of all around him.

2. MK becomes obsessed with power and fighting, thus driving Mei away.

And both of these are done in an attempt to “link” the kids with the monkeys.

MK-Wukong and Mei-Macaque

We don’t really need to talk about the first two- most of the show is about MK interacting with the Monkey King and learned to handle his legacy and foes- we’d be here all day.

But, what sort of interactions do Mei and Macaque share? Well, for Mei, it’s:

1. Being a victim of his violent and murderous actions

2. Being extremely close to his other frequent victims

3. Bafflingly having no negative opinions on the man who led an assault on her people’s palace, tried to murder her friends, and forced Tang to unleash the Samadhi Fire, nearly killing her in the process.

4. Being a weaker character for her lack of hostile dynamic with someone who has hurt her again and again and again

5. Having a worthless “team-up” with Macaque without the show ever having her address what he’s done to her and her loved ones

6. Weaken her character by taking away characteristics like “willing to call people out” and “gets violent when people try to hurt the ones she loves” for the sake of a boring and short “team-up”.

…yeah, thats not a great list.

Already, Mei’s non-violent interactions with Macaque leave a lot to be desired- and don’t hint to anything even close to her being a “successor” to his story like MK is to Wukong.

Back to those two first bullet points, now, right under the read more.

Sun Wukong and MK are not; and never have been, “mindless monsters”, in spite of MK’s destructiveness in his monkey form- it is explicitly made clear that he’s in control of himself.

“There’s nothing “mindless” about this.”

And he was right. MK is completely awake and aware in his monkey form, with full mental faculties. He’s verbally capable of shredding Azure and decrying his crimes in an efficient fashion, all while kicking him around.

MK wasn’t “going insane”- he was having fun.

(That’s a rant for another day, though)

Nor did Sun Wukong solely drive Macaque away.

The crux of Wukong and Macaque’s fallout is clearly displayed in the show, in the fourth season of Monkie Kid- it started from a single fucking argument.

Now, I’d like to preface again: this is the first point that I see many, oh so many theorizers, artists, writers, etc- get wrong.

SUN WUKONG IS NOT THE “BAD GUY” IN THIS SCENE.

THEY ARE BOTH AT FAULT.

Sun Wukong is trapped. For attempting to overthrow the Jade Emperor, he is sentenced to FIVE HUNDRED YEARS trapped under a mountain.

Let me elaborate for anyone who doesn’t sympathize.

For the next five hundred years, Sun Wukong will be 75% immobile and alone under a nearly lightless mountain. There will be no noise, no stimulation, and no company. He will suffer in silence, and he will suffer alone.

But you know who ISN’T being punished for an attempt to overthrow the Jade Emperor?

Macaque.

Now, this is funny. Wukong leads a six strong band of brothers against the forces of the Celestial Realm, but only ONE of them faces consequences for the rebellion- himself.

Even five hundred years later when Wukong is set free and traveling with his fellow pilgrims…

No one else has faced consequences for the rebellion. All five of Wukong’s “brothers” (Azure Lion, Peng, Demon Bull King, Yellowtusk, and yes, Macaque) get away scot-free to continue their plans and schemes.

I would be pissed. You would be pissed. There is not ONE SINGLE PERSON in this world that would NOT be pissed about how blatantly unfair this is.

Especially not after spending five hundred years nearly immobile under a dark and lonely mountain.

So, even before all, here and now, under that mountain, before five long and lonely centuries have passed, faced with the current injustice of his predicament-

Wukong lashes out and blames Macaque.

No. Fucking. Shit.

All of us (none of us are saints, do not try to say otherwise) would have snapped in anger.

All of us would have been angry. Each and every last one.

Mostly immobile and imprisoned alone to take the blame of six guilty men, Wukong lashes out at the nearest person.

And what does Macaque do, when blamed one single time for something that is mutually the fault of six men, including himself?

He lies and runs away.

No the fuck you didn’t.

Macaque nudges the idea. He implies the idea. He hints, quietly and softly.

“You’re really going through with this?” Is not him shutting down the idea of fighting the Celestial Realm.

It’s him being a coward and trying to dance around the issue without a direct confrontation.

Not even once does Macaque say: “We shouldn’t fight the Jade Emperor.”

Macaque directly LIES to present himself as being the better person during this fight.

MACAQUE IS FUCKING LYING TO HIS BEST FRIEND’S FACE TO MAKE HIMSELF LOOK BETTER, THEN RUNS AWAY AND NEVER COMES BACK DESPITE HAVING FIVE HUNDRED YEARS TO DO SO.

(But because it’s their ‘pewfect pwecious Maccy’, the fandom blindly ate this blatant dogshit lie up and took it at face value. Y’all don’t deserve unreliable narrators and mature themes go watch cocomelon/s)

The moment something goes wrong, what do these two do?

Blame each other to absolve themselves of sin, and then one runs away and chooses to never come back.

This was fucked up and toxic from the start- Macaque was a cowardly little bitch, and Wukong was a power-hungry idiot.

And both of these dumbasses have ZERO communication skills.

You know who doesn’t fall into those categories? OUR KIDDOS.

Mei and MK fight too- as soon as the first season.

And what does Mei do when her best friend accidentally wrecks her bike and nearly costs her a race that was EXTREMELY important to her?

She forgives him almost the moment he apologizes, and he immediately works on making it up to her.

Well, hold on a minute! That doesn’t sound like, I don’t know…

Lying to make yourself look better, throwing the blame around instead of accepting it, and running away for five entire centuries?

Huh. It’s almost like, maybe, instead of being built on one-sided adoration and tenuous “brotherhood”, Mei and MK see each other as, of all things-!

Equals. Friends. Partners.

Mei will NEVER abandon her best friend. Nothing could make her. Even when facing down lethal odds, her first response will ALWAYS be to run to him.

Even if she has to be forcibly dragged away, screaming and in tears, Mei will always fight to stay by MK’s side.

Nothing in the world could tear them apart. Not a petty fight. Not a presumed death. Not demons or celestials. Not an inky scroll of eternity inscribed with the past.

There is ONE circumstance in which she runs away from him-

When she’s overwhelmed by the Samadhi Fire and terrified of hurting the person she loves most with a

DEMONIC FIRE FUSED TO HER BODY THAT COULD EASILY BE USED TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE PLANET

then, and only then… does Mei run.

That is what it takes to drive her and MK apart. Not an argument. Not a game of flinging blame. Not a mishap or a tumble.

But fear for his life.

She runs away because, even if she wants to stay- Mei loves him.

And she loves him too much to think of putting her own life and desires before his.

Mei and MK are not the “hero and the warrior”.

This is not MK and Mei. And it never will be.

This is Macaque and Wukong, two people driven apart by boldness that was brashness and cleverness that was cowardice. This is a tale of adoration and anger and heartbreak and betrayal.

This is not MK and Mei. And it never will be.

Because they love each other too much to ever be “the hero and the warrior”.

And they’re all the better for it.

[asexxxualerotica]

Open RP Starter: The Great Escape

She had known this was going to happen sooner rather than later. She had survived the fallout of Order 66, dodged Inquisitors and Imperial officers for years—but there was only so much she could get away with while lending her aid to the fledgling Rebellion. And now, after a mission gone horribly wrong, she found herself out of luck...

...and yet, even as she was carted off on the Imperial Star Destroyer, taken away for holding...she wasn't completely out of options...

"Hey there, big boy~" Ahsoka purred, pressing herself against the hardlight wall and staring out at the guard stationed outside. The force field gave off a soft red light, and as she had stripped down to only her underwear and stockings, it made her orange skin almost seem to glow. "It's a long flight where you're taking me—why don't the two of us find a way to pass the time~?"

[constantfragmentation]

Arcane S2 Thoughts

I've had a week to digest this season and well, I guess I have the unpopular opinion of being very disappointed. After the initial flash of gorgeous animation and some ooo's and awe's.... I was left with a bitter aftertaste. I can rewatch S1 loads of time. I don't think I can watch S2 again.

I'm happy for the fans that loved it and got what they wanted or the shippers that got what they wanted. I'm happy for you. Do your thing.

Me? Not so much. Even as a Silco fan (and I admit to squeeing for any footage of him at first), I'm not pleased. Yeah, my young Silco is a nerd, man-bun hottie, but that's where it ended for me. His entire characterization was nothing like the character I fell head over heels for in S1.

Vander's Flashback: I honestly don't find Felicia's inclusion necessary at all. In fact, I think it waters down everything between Silco and Vander. Their knowing her and the kids creates more questions, plotholes, and problems than it supposedly solves.

Why is Vander only in those memories with the kids? It's before the fallout with Silco. Why don't the kids know or remember nice Silco? Why do they only fear him (obv that's from Vander and Benzo, yes?)?

Why doesn't Silco seem to know Powder at Vander's dead body? Why would he kill Felicia's kids? None of it makes any fucking sense if he cared about Felicia. He hates Vander so much, he hates the kids too because he adopted them?

How the hell does S2 Young Silco turn into S1 Silco? Riot really messed this one up. Vander's attempted murder didn't change his entire personality.

It was a rebellion battle. People were going to get hurt and killed. They had to know this. So, whether Silco accidentally killed Felicia (as some fans are debating) or she died, is so damn dumb for Vander to solely blame Silco. Takes the kids, becomes a pacifist FIRST and then decides to (shave and grow younger) kill his brother for the greater good. Doesn't make one lick of sense narratively.

The narrative, characterization and animation inconsistencies don't help from S1 either. The drowning scene doesn't fit the S2 explanation. They're too young. Vander had a beard and appears much older on the bridge. Hell, S2 Young!Silco looks older than S1 Young!Silco. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. If people want to kiss Riot's ass, fine, but there was too much that was straight up lazy writing.

Silco's death is just glossed over considering how important he is. Silco did what Vander couldn't. Even without Shimmer, the Underground was thriving. Cait's mother's death/burial/statue gets more screen time and Silco gets dumped in the river. No one seems to question his death or what happened? Yeah, ok.

I'll use this moment to complain about the excessive music video montages this season too. I watched S1 again and the writing and use of music worked in unison and enhanced scenes. S2 felt like scenes in between music videos and it was irritating.

There was so much screentime wasted that could have been good dialogue heavy scenes that S1 was great at. Instead, time wasted on poorly executed plotlines that needed way more time to flesh out (Mel, Ekko and Viktor) and we have slowmo music videos and MCU fight scenes. Hermie's guitar song and Mission Impossible jokster crap was laughable and not in a good way.

Riot tried to pack too much into one season, and it was a mess. This season felt like watching a Marvel movie. Cool action sequences with little to no substance. All the nuance and grit from last season were gone in favor of the 'good vs. bad' trope. All the political-societal issues in S1 were abandoned that were far more fascinating to explore.

Mel has superpowers now? It feels all out of place. Her, Ambessa, and the Black Rose plot have zero time to make it interesting and plausible. She was introduced as this master manipulator/politician and her sage persona feels so forced.

Jesus Demigod Viktor was too much. I was excited for the Machine Herald and the psychedelic Arcane magical multiverse took me out. Making him to be the big baddie and timeloop it around to Jayce felt like a big cop out. Viktor deserved better. Hell, Jayce deserved better.

So much was sacrificed to make the whole Arcane magic THE point of the series when it was one of the least interesting aspects of the show. Hextech for weapons and the continuing problems between Piltover and Zaun was RIPE for storytelling. It seems each act needed several episodes to cover.

Ekko sure as fuck deserved better than that half assed time warp with Hermie. The AU really bothered me. Everything felt wrong. EVERYTHING. Nothing was explained well at all. It felt like complete fan service at the expense of the characters. Before people rip me saying "well duh! It was an AU!". You don't assassinate characters and plot to have a happy ending that insults your viewers.

They turned Zaun (its own cool character) into the bargain basement of Piltover. How is it sunny and pretty? Really? Mirror tricks? Everyone just forgave Piltover after years of oppression?

You're telling me Vi's death saved humanity? Fuck that shit right now. Piltover just stopped because a kid died? Suddenly everything became better? What happened to Jayce? Viktor? Hell, Hermie after decades didn't give two shits about Zaun, so what changed with the Council? Where's Singed? I don't buy it.

I don't buy Jinx/Powder being super normal smart girl. I LOVE JInx, but I believe she had mental issues prior breaking into Jayce's apartment. I don't think Vi's death made that go away (as I don't believe Silco's death did either). As someone who battles with mental health, this is insulting to me as a viewer.

I hated AU Silco. There. I said it. He just forgave Vander? Really? Bullshit. The reason Vander tried to kill him is stupid. A simple letter changed Silco? That fluffy-haired softy is not Silco. I can't imagine that Silco being the one who fought a rebellion. He probably would not have become a mob boss peddling drugs but this AU softboi dad feels so wrong. I never would have stanned AU Silco. Not in a million years.

S1 Silco's traits didn't magically appear because Vander betrayed him. The young S1 Silco had to be similar in many ways to older S1 Silco. Drive, ambition, ruthlessness, willing to die for a cause. I don't see Felicia's death changing that. I certainly don't see Vi's death changing that.

If Vander needed to kill Silco to stop the violence, etc, it's because he saw Silco as a threat to him or society as a whole. S1 Vander is known as The Hound. So, he seems to be violent as well. He takes credit for building the Underground when Felicia credits both 'bozos' for it. So Vander being upset she died and blaming Silco to the point of murder is a slap in the face to fans' intelligence.

I do hate that by Vi's death, everything is magically better. I can't express how much I hate that. AU Powder was irritating and was nothing like my Jinx that I love. Again so much wasted time that could have been better spent on good character driven scenes that actually advance the plot.

Pointless characters. Introduce Isha (who I adored). Make her seem important to Jinx. Kill her and never mention her again. So what was the point of her inclusion this season? Just to make Jinx suicidal? I hated that also. Again WASTED SCREENTIME.

Oh, and Caitvi was a disgrace. I think shippers deserved better here, too. Caitlyn goes crazy dictator because of guilt over her mom. Granted, Caitvi only knew each other for a week-ish? Not a lot of time to make their relationship serious past an infatuation. Cait turns from all her good points last season to Ambessa's padawan.

Don't get me started on that side piece Maddie. Really? Cait you were that hard up? And that long awaited sex scene was a big eye roll. Vi goes to her sister, and shit goes to hell, and a few minutes later, she's fucking Cait in the same cell. Vi was reduced to shit this season.

I mean, these characters just got shafted in every way for a high speed train wreck ending that we've seen a million times in Disneyfied stories. Action sequences were more important than actual character development and plot.

You can't make me believe that one speech from Jayce 'seeing a possible future' suddenly got Zaun to work with and dress up as Piltover soldiers? Really?

I had high hopes for Sevika, and the girl got shit nothing to do except in two episodes. Her seat on the Council feels like a last-minute decision and not worthy enough to expand on.

What made S1 so great was the class divide between Zaun and Piltover and how it affected the characters. S2 decided to scrap that and go with the easy good vs evil trope instead. Even the parallels didn't have the same hit as last season.

I did like Jinx talking to her 'ghost' Silco in the jail cell. He was calming to her in contrast to Milo/Claggor except the implication that she should die (that's what I got out of that).

We didn't even get much from Singed. Yeah, he got his daughter back (in some form) but his story was so blah. We didn't get nearly enough of him and Warwick and what made Warwick.

I guessed a few years ago it was going to be Vander but I didn't like how it was handled.

Too many plotlines all rushed together without getting any decent screentime and explanations that don't confuse or insult viewers intelligence. OR you have to be a LOL fan/player to understand. I never played LOL before S1 and wasn't confused as to the main plot.

I loved all the characters in S1 and felt they were pretty much watered down or assassinated in S2 for an apocalyptical Demigod villain vs humanity battle done to death finale.

The Zaun/Piltover political-societal problems, parallels, corruption, science going wrong, pathway to hell paved with good intentions themes from S1 was so much better in every single aspect.

I'm still a fan of S1 and the characters and frankly, I'm going to ignore 95% of S2.

[eyeofwitness]

THE INSANITY OF NORMALITY: TOWARD UNDERSTANDING HUMAN DESTRUCTIVENESS by ARNO GRUEN According to Sigmund Freud, man is born with an innate tendency to destruction and violence; in THE INSANITY OF NORMALITY, the psychoanalyst Arno Gruen challenges that assumption, arguing instead that at the root of evil lies self-hatred, a rage originating in a self-betrayal that begins in childhood, when autonomy is surrendered in exchange for the "love" of those who wield power over us. To share in that subjugating power, we create a false self, an image of ourselves that springs from a powerful and deep-seated sense of fear. Gruen traces this pattern of adaptation and smoldering rebellion through a number of case studies, sociological phenomena - from Nazism to Reaganomics - and literary works. The insanity this attitude produces, unfortunately, goes widely unrecognized precisely because it has become the "realism" that modern society inculcates into its members. Gruen warns, however, that escape from this pattern lies not simply in rebellion, for the rebel remains emotionally tied to the object of his rebellion, but in the development of a personal autonomy. His elegant and far-reaching conclusion is that while autonomy is not easily attained, its absence proves catastrophic to both individual and society. "With compassion and conviction Dr. Gruen carefully exposes the undiagnosed and undisclosed insanity unwittingly accepted as normality... This is a text for leaders and followers, for conformists and rebels alike, for members of the healing professions who seek to repair the destructive fallout from our pursuit of normality and for all who strive for a more compassionate and saner social order."