#past this tag everything is a vent apologies

[xetlynn]

Scars and Faint Memories

Vanessa Palmer x Fem!Reader

chapter five<- -> chapter six -> chapter seven

Warnings: Shauna underwire scene. Shorter chapter.

1996

You focus on your steps, purposely stepping on twigs to hear the crunch and snaps. Walking alongside Van as you guys scavenge for food. It’s been a bit more rough lately due to animals doing the same thing. Hoarding for the cold winter to come. Akilah, Mari and Lottie were right behind you. 

Mari’s stomach loudly growls. “Jesus, Mari. Turn the volume down.” Van speaks with irritation even though the girl can’t control it. You glance up at the girls. “Oh, excuse me as my body devours itself from the inside out.” Mari replies, rolling her eyes. “I told you to eat before we left.” Akilah reminds her. 

“I did, if you call bone broth food.” Mari huffs and you frown. “We all get the same rations.” Van shrugs, sick of the complaints and you place a hand on her forearm. Attempting to calm her down, her eyes look into yours apologetically. Knowing that she has somewhat of a short fuse when it comes to the others complaining. “We’ll find something soon.” You assure the group and as you say that you come across a patch of berry bushes. 

Unfortunately though there’s barely anything on them. Mari kicks at it angrily. “Seriously? How the fuck are there no fucking berries?”

“It could be birds picking them off. Or mice.” Akilah says calmly. “I’d eat the crap out of a mouse right now.” Van admits unapologetically and the three of you look at her in disgust.

“Eww.” “Gross.” Akilah and Mari mutter. 

“Some animals live off of eating their own vomit.” Lottie speaks up, you had almost forgotten that she came with you guys. “Wow, thanks for that image, Lot.” Van sarcastically says. “Did Dead Cabin Guy tell you that? Or do you guys just chat about blood and stuff?” Mari smirks and you furrow your eyebrows at her words. Even Van sends them a warning look as the two snicker. 

“We mostly just talk about how Danny Mears dumped you for his own cousin.” Lottie snaps back and you press your lips together  as she moves further into the woods. Van and you making eye contact and bursting into quiet laughter. 

You then follow after Lottie, Van right there with you. “Hey, look, ignore Mari. I don’t think she’s taken a shit in, like, two weeks.” Van tells the girl who doesn’t seem to be paying attention. “You okay, Lot?” You place a hand on her shoulder and she seems disturbed over something before slowly turning to you. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” She tells you, looking back away but you take a beat to squint at her. Trying to read her. Ever since that night it’s been a little weird. Lottie giving you quiet apologies for your arms. Her silence is what’s been bothering you though. You wanted to know what was going on inside her head. 

“Alright…” You murmur, heading back to the group without another question. Assuming she will tag along. 

2021

You sit on the motel bed, swinging your leg up to keep it somewhat elevated. Taissa stands next to you, arms crossed. It was a little awkward between the both of you. After her press conference Simone was in shock. You knew she wasn’t going to drop out of the race. You saw it that night she talked with her wife. 

Simone had vented to you shortly after it had happened. When Taissa wasn’t in the room. You feel for her but deep down you know where your loyalties lie even with everything that went down between the two of you. You stood up for Taissa at that moment. Making Simone even hesitant to continue talking with you. 

A panicked knock on the door startles the three of you from whatever you guys were thinking about. Natalie opens it and Shauna moves past her. Taissa and you watch as the two size each other up. “You look like shit.” Natalie comments. “Back atcha.” Shauna rolls her eyes. 

“Hey, it’s been ten years. Can we play nice for a minute?” Taissa speaks up, Shauna surveys the room, her eyes landing on you. “Holy shit, what happened to you?” She questions and you wave it off. “Mental crisis in Taissa’s words.” You simply answer, getting hit in the arm by the woman. 

“She was drunk and broke glass, somehow the glass got stuck in her calf.” Taissa tells Shauna swiftly, earning a small “oh.” She wants to question why the two of you seem… fine now. But instead she continues looking around the room. “So is this rock bottom, or does the elevator still go down a few more floors?” 

“Am I talking to a wall?” Taissa whispers to you, throwing her hands up in frustration to which you chuckle. “How’s Jeff? Still hawking futons?” Natalie smirks. 

“No. We are not doing this, not after all the shit we’ve been through. We’ve got a situation and we need to deal with it together.” Taissa cuts off the bitter arguing and Natalie shrugs. The two backed down. “Fine. What;s going on?” 

Natalie then shows Shauna the autopsy photos as well as the crime scene. “Is that… Travis? Oh God… is that the-” symbol. The symbol.

“Yeah. Someone strung him up and then tried to cover their tracks.” Natalie explains.

This then brings up Jessica Cruz… Day… Roberts? You couldn’t keep up with the last names anymore. “Did you not take care of her?” You look up to Taissa, Shauna also speaks up. “I thought we told you to take care of her?” 

“What was I supposed to do, kill her? I threatened a lawsuit and told her to back off.” Taissa defends herself but she avoids eye contact with you now. You stare up at her through your lashes, observing her closely.

“Okay, fuck this.” Natalie pulls out her cellphone. Finding Jessica’s card. 

“What are you doing?” Taissa inquires. “Bringing Jessica Roberts- nice fake name, by the way. To us. I’ll say I’m ready to talk.” Natalie says.

“And if it’s  not her? We’d be handing her the exact kind of story she’s looking for.” Shauna disagrees with the idea. You hum in agreement with a frown. Disappointed that you even have to agree with Shauna on this one. “Shauna’s right, Nat. Stop. Stop.” Taissa points a finger. 

Taissa and Shauna sternly lock eyes with your best friend who finally puts her phone down. 

“Can you get the money?” Shauna looks at you guys. “I’m working on it. We’re still waiting for instructions on how to make a drop.” Taissa sighs. You lay down on the bed boredly. You weren’t necessarily a part of this but you insisted that Taissa took you. Over sitting on a couch with nothing to do. 

“Once we do, we can put a GPS tracker in with the cash. Then we follow it, see what we’re dealing with.” Shauna comes up with a spot. “Together.” Shauna then adds, pointed at Natalie. The three of you nod. 

“I’m not going to be much help but I’ll definitely be there for support.” You put a thumb up and Natalie smiles at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but should we loop Misty in, too?” Shauna breathes out and you shoot up. “The fuck?” You raise a brow.

“She could be part of it.” Taissa says. 

“She’s the one who drove [Name] and I to see Travis. Well, after fucking with my car but still. She’s been helping me try to figure out what the fuck is going on.” Natalie stands up for the blonde. “Oh, right. Naturally.” Shauna huffs. 

“Anything else I should know about, or does the blackmail, Travis maybe being murdered and this one playing buddy cop with Misty fucking Quigley basically sum things up?” Shauna irritatedly asks, also giving you a passing by look. 

Something you definitely take notice of. 

“I say we keep Misty at arm’s length for now, then see how fucking weird she gets.” Natalie suggests and your shoulders slump somewhat relieved that you won’t have to deal with the girl. “And if it turns out she really is behind all this?” Taissa asks the burning question. 

“Then we deal with her.” Shauna says, the four of your trading looks.

“Yikes.” You mumble. 

“Are you ready to go back?” Taissa looks at you and you take a deep breath. “I guess.” You lift yourself up from the bed, Taissa gives you a hand just in case. The other two watch curiously until Natalie lets out a laugh. 

“This is great, when did you two make up?” Natalie motions and you deadpan in her direction. Leaning on Taissa as you situate how you’re standing.

“I’m putting my anger on hold. She was still on my emergency contact. Now she won’t leave me alone.” You grumble, limping to the door.

“Why was she even on there?” Shauna asks. 

“I needed to put someone after my mom died. I was dumped and then my siblings all moved away. Natalie was in fucking rehab or off with Travis I don’t remember. I didn’t have anyone else.” You exclaim, sort of surprising them with your words. Moving on though, you breathe in, grimacing at the feeling of standing on your leg.

“Are you two ever going to tell us what happened between the both of you?” Shauna interrogates. 

“It’s no one's concern.” Taissa speaks and you let out a scoff. “Right.”

1996

You were finishing your chore alongside Van who’s showing you how to “fold the clothes correctly.” Something that makes you laugh as she is directing you on what to do. You two were also out by yourselves.

“Look, you messed it up already.” She gently takes the shirt from your hand and you smirk. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted.” You defend yourself. 

“By what?” She rolls her eyes, folding the shirt for you instead of giving you another chance at it. “I don’t know, maybe the twinkle in your eyes.” You boldly say with a shit-eating grin and she snorts.

“That was horrible.” She shakes her head and you jut out your bottom lip dramatically. “Really? I thought it was a good one.” 

Van places the shirt down with the others. “You’re getting better but that was… okayish.” She says, folding another piece of clothing as you watch her. The two of you have been somewhat closer, you still have your guard up but spending time with her has been a wonderful distraction to the reality that you also have to face. 

There wasn’t a point in pushing her away when you were out here with no excuse to run. Right now everyone is vulnerable and doing their parts to survive. What does it hurt to… fall in lust a little...

“Just okayish? I know you secretly like it.” You rasp out, leaning into her side and she turns her head away bashfully. “Possibly,” she clears her throat. “You might just have to try a little harder.” She stands up, unclipping more of the shirts and pants from the makeshift line.

“Mind if I do a little example?” She cocks her head to the side, putting the clothes with the others. You eye her up and down as she offers her hands. 

“Hm?” She hums and you smile, taking them to help you stand up. “Go for it.” 

“Okay, okay, are you a loan?” She suddenly asks and you raise a brow. “What?” 

“Cause you’ve got my interest.” She gets out, trying not to laugh and you look taken back for a moment, trying to process what she just said. “Was that supposed to be better!?” You cackle, and she shushes you. 

“Wait, I have more.” She tells you. “Do you like Star Wars?” She inquires and you shrug your shoulders. “Eh-” 

“Cause Yoda only one for me!” She says but then pauses to give you a look. “Eh? What do you mean!?” She questions you and you just laugh at her. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen it!” You explain, emitting a gasp from her mouth immediately. 

“Oh my god! [Name]...” She drops your hands. “Have you at least seen The Goonies?” She quizzes you and you give her a sad no. “Hold on hold on, what have you seen!?” She grips onto your shoulders as if this was the most insane thing you’ve told her. “Sixteen Candles was pretty good.” You say and she backs away from you in shock. 

“The Lost Boys?” 

“Never seen it.” You clasp your hands together in front of you. “Wall Street?” 

“Nope.”

She lets out a horrid noise. “[Name] I am naming the most popular and best movies alive! Next you’re going to tell me that you haven’t seen Forrest Gump or Jurassic Park!” She throws her hands up with her rant. “I’ve seen Jurassic Park.” You say almost offended and she lets out a short chuckle. 

“But not Forrest Gump?” She crosses her arms and you smile at her. “No, sorry. I’m not a big movie person!” You announce and she snorts. “Yeah I can see that. I’m so going to have to change that when we get back.” She points at you. “Yeah?” 

She then pauses. “Would you want that?” She questions nervously. “Well it depends… How are you going to change that?” You step closer to her, putting your arms over her shoulders. Her eyes widen at your bold move.

“I was thinking, they have these drive-in theaters and they show 70s and 80s movies- the best movies there are.” She starts, building back up her confidence. 

Her hands going to your hips. “Mhm.” You hum, insinuating for her to carry on. “I could take you every other saturday. Call them dates or something…” She trails off for dramatic effect. 

“Or something.” You joke and she gives you a look. “I would love that, Van.” You look into her eyes, showing that you’re sincere. You notice her own eyes flicker down to your lips at that second. “Yeah?” She breathily asks. 

And as you lean in a little closer the two of you hear rustling from behind you. Instantly the two of you let go of one another to see Laura Lee walking forward. “Hey, you guys need some help bringing the clothes back?” She offers, not paying attention to the fear struck expressions on your faces. 

“Uhm- yeah, yeah. Here’s the folded ones.” You lift them up, handing them over to the girl. Van rushingly folding the rest of the clothes.

“Great, I finished my chore. I'm just trying to see if anyone else needs help.” She explains and you nod, letting out a breath with a forced smile on your face. The nerves make you sweat. 

“Well, we’re all good here. Thanks, Laura Lee.” Van sharply speaks, crouching down as she folds the rest of the clothes, the blonde awkwardly takes her leave and your eyes go wide as you turn to the redhead. 

She smirks up at you, keeping her lips tightly together as she tries not to laugh but the moment the silence surrounds you and you know she's gone the both of you laugh loudly.

“Holy shit! That gave me more adrenaline than during a game back home.” You place your hand over your heart dramatically. She smiles at you. “C’mon, let’s get these back before she sends everyone over here.” Van plops clothes into your arms. Nudge you as she picks up the rest. 

The two of you were handing the clothes over to their owners or putting them away in the cabin before coming back out. The girls all finish up their chores for the day as Natalie and Travis return from another unsuccessful hunting trip. 

But you all clock how they are a bit too close to one another, their hands almost slyly touching. A grin on Travis’s face. “Natalie and Travis sittin’ in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N-” 

“I think they were doing a little more than kissing, Laura Lee.” Lottie cuts her off bluntly. “Hey, Nat. What exactly are you and Flex hunting for out there, anyway?” Mari calls after the bleached blonde. You purse out your lips. “I hear it’s beaver season…” Van comments and the girls laugh, you gently hit her as you notice Travis looking embarrassed. 

Natalie gives you all the finger. “Sit and spin assholes.” 

Jackie then comes up to Natalie. “Is this why we don’t have any food? Because you’re running for mayor of pound town?” Jackie inquires rudely and you flinch at her words even though they’re not direct toward you. “Uh, go fuck yourself?” Natalie scrunches her eyebrows.

“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. You’re always down for a good time, aren’t you Nat?” Jackie continues and you go to step in but Van grabs onto your wrist. Stunting you. 

“I can’t magically conjure deer, Jackie. But keep talking shit, I’ll find something to shoot.” Natalie spits out in return. “Oh, wow, you’re so tough. I’m not scared of you, burn out.” Jackie laughs, you let out a heavy breath. Livid at the scene she’s causing. “No. You’re jealous. Cause you’re uptight, prudish bitch-” 

“Hey- Chill! Both of you.” Taissa steps between them, Shauna pulling Jackie away as Lottie and Mari grab Natalie. She shakes them off though.

Heading towards the cabin and you follow after her quickly. Feeling the loss of Van’s touch immediately. Misty leans to Natalie before she can enter. “I know how you feel. I have a secret boyfriend too.” Misty mutters. Natalie throws her a look as you give a confused glance but moving on from it. 

“Give me the word and I’ll beat her ass, Nat.” You speak and Natalie snorts. “You? You’re the least confrontational person here.” She shakes her head and you sigh. “Yeah well being out here seems to be changing that.” You roll your eyes, the two of you sitting at the table in the kitchen area. 

She glances up at you with a strange expression. Seemingly observing you closely. “What?” You question and she mumbles under her breath but you didn’t catch it. Natalie focuses on your eyes to which you begin to feel nervous. Peering away from her. “Sorry, thought… I don’t know.” She sucks in a breath, sitting up straight. 

“Uh, okay…” You fold your arms. 

Later that night you find yourself tossing and turning beside Shauna and Taissa. Not able to fall asleep. That’s how it’s been ever since you started sleeping up in the attic. Irritated, you throw the blankets off of you. Begrudgingly heading downstairs but still careful not to wake anyone up. Making it through the sleeping girls to outside. 

Less sleep but more energy, you didn’t understand yourself but at the same time you didn’t mind it. What bothered you is the lack of having something to do. Something to clean. You needed some sort of action. 

Some sort of change. Every day is beginning to blend with the others. You sat on the porch, knee bouncing up and down swiftly. Antsy. You were so stuck in your thoughts you didn’t hear the person coming out of the cabin behind you. “[Name]? What are you doing up?”  The voice rasps and you gasp, jumping slightly. 

“Tai?” You smile at her and she joins your side. “What are you doing out here?” She questions. You shrug your shoulders. “Can’t sleep. I want out of here.” You answer, squinting in front of you. Staring at the treeline before you. Wondering what lies beyond this area. “You and I both.” She laughs quietly. It falls silent between the both of you for a moment before you turn to her. 

“I want to go look for help.” You say, she furrows her brows. “Look for help?” She repeats. “Yes, we haven’t tried it, going south I'm sure there's something. I can go. Even if no one goes with I'm not dying here-” 

“I’ll go with you.” She cuts you off, placing her hands over yours. “Really? No explanation needed…?” You were caught off guard but secretly relieved that someone was as crazy as you. “I mean, we don’t know where the hell we are. Why not?” She says simply. You grin at her. “No one’s going to agree with us, you know that?” 

Her lips twitch upward, and you notice her eyes flicker down to your lips. Your smile falters and you stand up abruptly.

“This sounds crazy but I need to do something or else I’m gonna go crazy. Wanna go swimming with me?” You place your hands on your hips and she just stares at you curiously before smacking her knees and standing up as well. 

“Fuck it, why not?” 

The door creaks open and both of your heads snap in the direction. Van tiredly blinks at the both of you. “The fuck are you guys doing up?” She shuts the door behind her. Rubbing her eyes so they can focus clearly. “Uh…” Taissa looks to you. “Swimming.” You say and she gives you a look. “It’s the middle of the night, [Name].” 

“Best time to do it. Ever swim in a pool at night with nothing but the moonlight? Oh! Ever skinny dip?” You quiz them, talking a little fast, not letting them answer. “We gotta do it!” You laugh to yourself, suddenly feeling your nerves throughout your body.

You question your excitement but choose to ignore it by how you’ve never felt this… euphoric before and at night it really begins to shine. “I mean, why not? Who’s going to tell us no.” Taissa points out and you point at her. 

“Exactly, we might not get this freedom back home.” You say, eyeing up to Van, hoping that she joins. Practically pleading with your eyes. Her own gaze softens in your direction. She was skeptical at first, worried about the others waking up and noticing you guys missing. But then again you wouldn’t be doing anything wrong by swimming. 

“Fine, let’s go.” Van steps down from the porch and you gently clap your hands together. Leading the way to the lake. 

And as your feet touch the dirt you’re slipping your clothes off with ease. Not wasting a single second nor caring about the eyes that are on you as you do so. Van isn’t shy about her staring, admiring your figure in the moonlight. 

Taissa looks between you and the girl, slowly undressing as well. 

“Whipped.” Taissa whispers, following after you into the water and Van scoffs. She knows the girl is right though. She was utterly whipped for you and has been for a while. Way before the crash. Way before Senior year of high school. 

Van scurries after you to girls, tossing her shirt and sports bra off. The cool water hits against her skin and you swim on your back so you can look at her. 

“Wow…” You audibly let out on accident and she raises a brow. Taissa scrunches her nose but stays silent. You don’t add anything else, instead looking up at the sky. “The stars are much brighter without all the light pollution.” You hum, searching for certain constellations.

The two do the same, well Taissa does the same as a certain someone continues to eye you. Holding herself as she does so. 

“Do you think our families are up right now still trying to search for us? Or do you think  they think we’re dead and gave up?” You inquire, speaking without thinking and the two are stunned in place. 

“Way to lighten the mood.” Taissa sarcastically says with a scoff of a laugh. “Sorry, I just… I don’t think my mom cares.” You admit to them, not looking at either of them, your sight not leaving the starry night. “My siblings are probably devastated, or were. They’re young, easier to move on with grief.” 

They listened to your words, not knowing how to respond but just listening. “My mom works so much she never bonds with me- well, bonded. There’s nothing to miss. Maybe missing her free babysitter.” You snicker to yourself. “I understand how you feel.” Van lets the water engulf around her as she joins your side. “My mom’s not much of a workaholic. Just an alcoholic, some pills too. Too drunk or high to ever talk without some sort of argument.” 

She was a little tense talking about her mother but it was just you three and for some reason it was like nothing else mattered. It didn’t feel like you guys were stranded and helpless. “Moms suck sometimes.” You mumble. 

“Or all the time.” Van smirks and you huff. “Yeah…” You trail off. “You have a horrible mother too, Tai?” You look at the girl who was picking at her nails. Or underneath her nails… “How the hell did you get so much dirt under your nails?” You stand up, water slipping down your body. You shiver slightly at the feeling. 

Taking Taissa’s hands. “ I have no clue.” She continues to clean them. “You digging holes or something?” Van asks and Taissa rolls her eyes, splashing the redhead, accidentally getting you as well. 

The two of you squeal, splashing her back. Leading to the three of you attacking one another with the water. Laughing until you let out too loud of a noise and Taissa smacks a hand over your mouth. “Shhh, so loud.” 

“What? No one’s going to hear.” Van chuckles, pushing her arm away from you as you giggle. “Sorry, sorry, but Van’s right. They’re sleeping and in the cabin.” You swim around the two of them like a child. 

“You saw how they were with Travis and Natalie. If they saw the three of us- like this?” Taissa reminds you guys and you shrug. “I mean, do you, Miss Turner care about what they think? Plus we’re all friends here. Who cares?” You then quickly go under water, popping back up just as fast. 

“I don’t care what they think, just the drama that comes with it. I’m friends here, you two… whatever is going on, they might find out.You two aren’t being very discreet lately.” She points out and the two of you glance at one another. Not worriedly though. “They might find out eventually, that could happen.” Van agrees with that one statement. 

“Not if we get the hell out of here.” You speak up suddenly and Taissa shoots a warning look at you. Not thinking it’s a good idea to let Van know just yet but you don’t care. “We’re going to look for help. Find a way out of here.” You tell her confidently. “We’re literally surrounded by hundreds of miles of wilderness.” Van says. 

“How can you be sure?” Taissa chimes in. “What if there’s like, a town, or an outpost or something closer than we think? It’s not like we’re on an island. If we head south long enough…” Taissa speaks with intent, showing you just how much she’s been thinking about this. Before you have even said anything just moments before coming to the lake. 

Van shakes her head vigorously. “You two take off into the woods, how the fuck would you two survive?” She interrogates. “Hm?” She looks at you and you shrug. “I can’t tell you. But I can tell you that we don’t know what will happen if we stay. Winter’s approaching.” 

“None of us are prepared for that.” Taissa breathes out, staring off at the cabin and you frown. 

2021

You sit with Taissa as she’s on the phone. You watch Sammy sneakily giving a tater tot to biscuit. “Yes, I understand it’s a joint account. But I shouldn’t need my wife’s signature for a withdrawal of any size… Can’t I increase the cap?” Taissa questions, irritated but then Simone enters the room, kissing Sammy on the head and stealing a fry from his plate. Acknowledging you curtly as Taissa hastily ends the phone call. 

“Thank you for your help.” Taissa sarcastically mutters toward the person from the bank and you smirk. Simone pours herself a coffee, ignoring her wife. Taissa peers over to you and you get the hint.

Standing up, careful not to put your weight on your leg. “Hey, Sammy. Want to show me your room now that I can walk a bit more?” You ask and he nods. Getting up and leading you to his room. Biscuit following not too far behind. 

Once you enter the orange room he heads to his bed. Biscuit jumping up with him. You glance around the room, your eyes immediately landing on his drawings.

They were extremely… unsettling. 

“What are these, bud?” You limp towards his wall of drawings and he continues to pet his dog. “The tree lady.” He answers and you raise a brow. “Is she real or from a dream?” You question. 

“Real, I swear she’s real.” He says in defense and you look at him.

“Hey, I’m not calling you a liar, am I?” You smile at him and he observes your face, as if he’s trying to read you. To see if he can trust you. 

“She looks like mom, but it’s not her.” He quietly explains and you look back to the drawings. The lady in the tree… 

“Like Simone?” 

“No,” He shakes his head and as you stand there it hits you like a ton of bricks. “Like mom but not mom?” You repeat his words and he nods his head.

“Shit…” You mumble. He makes a noise at you cussing and you catch yourself. Apologizing automatically.

“Sorry kid, I’m sorry.” You join him on the bed, the last apology had a deeper meaning behind it though, one that you don’t even think you can get yourself to talk about. 

1996

Taissa and you slip into your blankets quietly but as you settle down Shauna whispers. “Hey.” It startled the both of you. “Where’ve both been?” She questions “Had to pee, [Name] couldn’t sleep so she came with me. What are you doing up?” Taissa responds with ease. 

“Bad dream.” Shauna frowns. “What was it this time?” Taissa asks. “Cheeseburger- baby?” You add in and she gives a grim laugh. “I should never have told you guys about that.” She then grows quiet. 

“What am I gonna do, guys?” Shauna’s bottom lip quivers and you place a hand on her arm. “I heard Katie Lindstrom did it with the underwire of her bra last year.” She suddenly says and the two of you give her a horrified expression. 

“Have you lost your mind? You’ll die.” Taissa utters, slightly sitting up so she can lean over your body. “I’ll probably die either way! I’m in the middle of nowhere and the OB-GYN on call is Misty-fucking - Quigley. At last this way I won’t die having my best friend’s-” Shauna abruptly stops herself, swallowing hard at the sound of her secret spilling. 

“What were you about to say?” Taissa asks, you let out a breath, eyes wide in disbelief. “Shauna…” You say with a hint of disappointment laced with it. “That at least I won’t die having… my best friend’s boyfriend’s baby.” 

A beat. A hard moment for the two of you to register what you were just told. 

“It’s Jeff’s?” Taissa mumbles in genuine shock. Shauna looks away, ashamed by the two of your faces. “Whoa, okay… I mean. Wow. Yeah. But still, Shauna, it’s not worth dying to keep Jackie from finding out.” Taissa tells the girl with sincerity. You then speak up.

“We have a plan. To head south and find help.” You say. 

Shauna turns back to you. “So wait… on your plan. Please promise us you won’t do anything stupid.” You grab her hand and she looks into your eyes. She nods and you press your lips together. Not knowing what else to do or say to comfort her other than being there.

2021

You sit with Taissa in her office. Observing her as she looks tired. Her and Simone have just gotten back from Sammy’s psychiatrist appointment.

You go to mention what you’ve figured out in Sammy's room but before you could, a knock on the door interrupts your chance. Taissa sits up, pretending to be working.

“In case today hasn’t been shitty enough, the bank just called. Someone pretending to be you tried to take fifty thousand dollars out of your account.” Simone announces, not really caring that you’re in the room. Lately it just seems like you’re invisible to them. Your eyes flicker to Taissa who hides her guilt. 

“Fuck. Are you serious?” 

“Yup, even knew our password.” Simone replies with a hard sigh. “Well we’ve gotta… I mean, change it and freeze the account.” Taissa says. “That’s what the Fraud Department said. I gave my authorization, but you have to call and do it, too.” Simone tells her sternly. “Right, sure.” Taissa responds absent-mindedly. 

“Please make it a priority.” Simone voices. “I will.” 

“Thanks.” Simone then stands there for a moment, you notice that she wants to say more. Or as if she’s hoping her wife will. But nothing comes from either one of them and she walks out, shutting the door behind her. 

“I can give you guys the money.” You declare. Taissa rolls her eyes. “To hold over our heads later?” 

You take offense to her words, crossing your arms. “Have I ever held money over your head, Taissa?” You question with slight irritation. “I have the money. I have more than you can fucking fathom, Taissa. Let’s not play pretend on who I used to be.” You then eye her up and down. 

"Still [Name]. That's a lot of money."

“Fifty grand couldn’t dent the number in my account.” You scoff, being back on your medication was causing you to be incredibly more irritated. Not meaning to be but your fuse was cut a lot shorter than normal. “Very humble.” Taissa whispers and you laugh.

“Call Natalie and tell her you have the money.” You stand up, heading to the living room. You were done staying here. 

You didn’t want to go home either. That feeling was starting to grow on you too. 

1996

You sit on the porch, drumming your fingers on your thighs as you think to yourself. Planning out how Taissa and you were going to find help. Wondering how it would go. Making up scenarios in your head as your eyes are planted on the grass before you. 

The door bangs open and Taissa pulls you up. “C’mon, I think Shauna did it.” She rushes you, not giving you time to comprehend what’s happening. “Let’s go!” She orders and you stop letting her drag you, moving your feet faster to keep up with her. Lottie was walking in the direction of the lake and Taissa stopped her. 

“Lot, have you seen Shauna?” 

Lottie stares at the both of you and you motion with your hands. “Lottie, have you!?” You ask, repeating Tai. 

“I think I saw her go that way.” Lottie points and Taissa grabs onto your hand, the both of  you ready to run but Lottie stops you both. “Wait! Tai, were you outside last night eating dirt?” 

“What the actual fuck? No.” Taissa makes a face. “But-” 

“I can’t do crazy right now, Lot.” Taissa twists away from her, her hand still locked with yours as you guys bolt into the woods.

The two of you tear through the wilderness, passing some of the girls who were scavenging. Van being one of them.

“[Name]? Tai? Where are you going!?” Van calls out but it’s ignored as you keep running. 

“Fuck!” You screech when a branch slaps you in the face, the two of you pushing through a bush. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” Taissa mumbles under her breath, her hand squeezing yours every once in a while.

“Is that her?” You point up ahead. Tai squints and then picks up speed. “Shauna!” 

The two of you take in the scene as you approach closer. “Shit,” you practically fall to the girl's side, Taissa doing the same. 

“You’re not doing this alone. I’ll help you. If you let me.” Taissa kneels before her and you were by her head. “We’re both here.” You move her hair out of her face. Gratefully she nods, passing the wire to Taissa. 

She gets in position between Shauna’s legs. You give the girl your hand, she takes a breath in. Nodding to Taissa after squeezing your hand. You watch Taissa’s face go pale, moving the underwire toward Shauna. 

Shauna jerks, stunned by the contact. The three of you have shared the attic alone. Sleeping beside one another every night but this… this was intimate and terrifying. Truly bonding the three of you together.

Taissa stops, checking on Shauna, the two are breathing hard. “Keep going.” Shauna assures. 

Taissa hesitates but does as told. Shauna’s grip on you was tightening, starting to actually hurt you but you didn’t care. Watching the moment but making sure your friend was okay. She lets out a moan of discomfort the more and more she grew uncomfortable. 

Whimpering at the pain until she can’t endure it much longer. “Stop!” She yells and Taissa carefully removes the underwire, dropping it quickly.

“I can’t do it. I can’t do it!” She cries, looking up at you. “I don’t want to die out here, [Name], I don’t…” Tears fall from her eyes and you pull her into your arms. Taissa begins to cry as well. 

You hold the both of them in your arms, swallowing down your own emotions as you let them wet your shirt. Comforting them, rubbing your hands up and down their backs.

Whispering to Shauna that she’s okay. Closing your eyes as you talk to the both of them in a low tone.

The three of you emerge from the woods together, tears have dried but Shauna still slightly clings to your side. Something Jackie clocks, frowning with a strange jealous feeling emitting from her.

Along with Van seeing you at Taissa’s side once again like last night. Her eyebrows crease but she tries to shake the feeling away. 

Noticing Natalie and Travis returning with a massive dead deer. “Meat! Fuck yeah!” Van cheers, the others joining. Even you clap your hands together. “Oh, thank you, Lord.” Laura Lee glances up to the sky. Suddenly everyone notices its bloody shedded antlers. A couple girls gag at the sight. 

“Whoa. That thing is gnarly.” Van musters and you wince, looking away. “It’s like- Freddy Krueger and Bambi had a baby.” Akilah hisses. “I’m not eating that.” Javi joins your side, as Shauna steps away for him to do so. 

“Guys, deer shed their antlers seasonally. This is all normal.” Coach speaks with reassurance. “You want to do the honors?” He then turns to Shauna who takes out her knife. Everyone gathered around. 

She slices into its belly and immediately you see infested parasitic worms. Making the meat tainted and completely inedible. Leaving the team utterly hungry and hope draining further. 

“That normal too, Coach?” Jackie scrunches. Ben looks grossed-out, just as everyone else.

Taissa and you peer at one another and she raises her brows. You press your lips together, shrugging. A silent conversation between one another. But totally understanding what each other means. 

“We can’t do this anymore, you guys! What happens when winter gets here? We starve to death? Freeze?” Taissa asks the girls, plus the three guys. Their faces troubled in return.

“We can’t count on getting rescued anymore- we all know that is not gonna happen. We have to save us. That’s why I’m gonna find help- [Name] and I are going to find help.” Taissa takes your hand and you puff your chest out, standing taller. Van grimaces at the choice of touch. You nod sharply, agreeing with the girl's words. The girls all react, either shocked or on board with the idea.

“We’re leaving in the morning. Come with us if you want to get out of this fucking hell-hole.” 

She lets go of your hand, stalking back to the cabin and you purse out your lip. A dramatic scene, but sure to sit with the group and make them think about their choices. 

“Think about it, it’s your choice. But we have to try something other than sitting here.” You speak in a calmer manner. 

2021

You hear the door open from Taissa’s courtyard. With a raised brow you sit up, looking at the woman’s figure trying to be stealthy, quiet to not wake you up. You feel your phone buzz, Natalie texts that it’s go time. 

You stand up and go to the woman who was at her steps. “Tai, you get Nat’s message too?” You inquire, your hand holding the railing. Keeping weight off your leg.

“Oh, uh yeah. I’m gonna go get ready.” She hides her face from you. 

Along with keeping one of her hands close to her body. 

Your heart drops. “Tai…” You reach out to her and she snaps away from you. Stepping up on another stair.

“You should get ready too.” She rushes up the stairs and you bite your bottom lip. Your exact fear, and worry was becoming more and more real. 

taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

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[boneapplet]

From Rust and Bone pt.12

Chronicles of the Lost Primarch

Relationship: Rogal Dorn x oc/afab!reader

Warnings: alluded to illness

Word Count: 1508

Requested tag:@noncon-photobomb @beckyninja @blukitty40k @runin64 @ilovewolvezz

Masterlist

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14 | pt 15 | pt 16 | pt 17 | pt 18 | pt 19 | pt 20

Making camp in the lee of a weather-scoured bluff, where the stone gives just enough shelter from the sharp edge of the wind. Arravox curls low beside the firepit, while Kessa’s mount lais tethered and half-dozing.

Kessa sits cross-legged near the flames, her breath slow and deliberate as she takes the protective casing off the syringe of vent-suppressants. Unflinching as she injects it into her abdomen, but Dorn can see the lines tightening around her eyes. Her flare-up hasn’t worsened, but it clings to her like a second weight.

Lowering himself beside her, rolling his tunic’s shoulder back to expose the fresh dressing she’d applied earlier. The antiseptic she’d traded for sits nearby in a worn cloth pouch, alongside the strips of boiled bark and stitched bandages. Kessa glances over, and without a word, passes him the bottle. He works in silence, the sharp sting of the medicine grounding him more than it hurt.

After a long pause, Kessa exhales and finally says, “You’ve been quiet since the post.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he turns slightly, looking out across the flat span of land beyond the bluff. The stars overhead are faint—veiled by lingering dust—but he could still make out the black cut of the hills to the east. Past them… maybe the cliffs the trader had spoken of.

“The helmet,” he says finally. “It was real.”

Kessa doesn’t look up, but her hands still. “Most things at those posts are real. The trick’s knowing which stories to believe.”

“There was no blood. No breach,” Dorn murmurs. “Whoever wore it—left it. Like it was nothing.”

“Or everything,” Kessa quietly says.

Dorn looks at her.

“I’ve seen folks leave behind gear when it gets too heavy. Not because it doesn’t matter. Because they’re not the same person who put it on in the first place.”

Dorn is silent for a long moment, then says, “She claimed the other helm was still moving.”

“Stories like that are meant to scare children or make lonely men feel watched,” Kessa replies, but her tone lacks conviction.

“They called us myths once,” he says, voice soft. “The idea of one surviving... it’s not impossible.”

“You think he’s out there?”

“I think someone was.”

Leaning back against the rock wall, wincing faintly as the salve begin to bite. Across him, Kessa wipes her face with a strip of cloth. The worst of the tightness seemed to ease from her shoulders.

“Would you go looking for him?” she inquiries, not quite casually.

“No,” Dorn retorts, eyes on the stars. “If he wanted to be found, he’d have left more than a husk behind.”

Kessa nods slowly.

“Still,” she says, her voice just above a whisper, “it’s something, isn’t it? To know you might not be the last ghost out here.”

Dorn doesn’t reply. But in the faint firelight, his expression was no longer distant, just quiet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That morning, the wind carries something new. It carries grit from far-off slopes and the faint, mineral tang of exposed stone. A change in the land’s breath. Kessa recognizes it before she even opens her eyes fully. They are close.

Pulling herself to her feet with a stiffness she’s long stopped apologizing for, checking the straps on the medicine pouch before moving to wake her mount. The beast snorts and rises with a melodic trill, stretching out its neck and chuffing dust into the air.

Dorn is already up, rolling away the last of their bedding. He moves with the same measured care he always did now—testing wounds, adjusting weight, avoiding any sudden strain. His scars are knitting well, but even she can see how some aches have rooted deeper. The kind that doesn’t show in flesh.

Catching her watching and giving the smallest of nods.

“Final push?”

“Should be,” she replies. “If we keep good pace, we’ll reach the old storm barriers before nightfall. Ridge takes over from there.”

Arravox is already prowling near the edge of the bluff, tail twitching, eyes tracking dust-flickers in the distance. Dorn calls him with a low whistle, and the great lizard turns, responding with a low-pitched warble. He approaches and lets Dorn mount with practiced ease.

They don’t speak much once underway. The land around them begins to change. The soil hardens beneath their beasts’ feet, the wind taking on a sharpness that hints at elevation. Long ridges of black stone clawing at the sky in the distance—fossilized spines of some long-dead tectonic fury. Migrant markers had been left behind here and there—old knotted flags, wind-chimes made of scrap, a half-buried cart bleached by the sun. Ghosts of old caravans.

Every so often, Kessa coughs behind the fold of her sleeve, but less than before. The medicine is doing its work. And Dorn—he keeps to his silence, but his eyes are never still. Watching. Measuring. Thinking.

By mid-afternoon, the remnants of the storm barrier come into view—half-toppled struts and anchored fence-spines that had once held back swirling poison seasons. Beyond them, the ridge. And tucked within the folds of the higher terrain: the path to the last sheltering zone before the deep routes toward the mining grid.

Kessa lets out a long breath.

“That’s the last hard leg,” she says, her voice steadier now. “The ridge is tough, but it’s all navigable from here.”

Dorn looks across the horizon, the wind brushing his cloak aside. “And after?”

She doesn’t answer right away.

“After,” she eventually says, “there’s the Basin. And after that, the Reach. If we make it through both, there’s a place called the Rust Flats where the caravans gather and trade heavy. Lot of movement there. Even whispers of an old orbital node.”

Dorn glances at her. “Do you think we’ll find more like that helmet?”

She gives a tired smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think we’ll find something. Just not always what we expect.”

The path ahead shimmers with heat and distance. Turning toward it together, beasts stepping forward in unison. Behind them, the wind scours away their tracks. The last leg of the migration stretches long across the ridge, where the wind never stops and the shadows move too fast to trust.

The terrain narrows to knife-edge passes and brittle causeways, sheer drops on either side like the bones of a gutted world. Arravox moves with cautious grace, claws gripping the rock like it was something alive. Passing the weather-stripped remains of an old crawler—a mining hauler that had rolled sideways down a slope, half-buried in shale. Bones too. Picked clean and arranged in respectful rows. Some other migrant had honored the dead here once.

By the second dusk, clouds begin to gather low over the distant basin. Not a storm—just pressure. The kind that settles in your chest and makes silence feel heavier. Kessa doesn't say much, only gestures occasionally, leading them around memory more than markers.

When they finally crest the last high ridge, Dorn sees it. The agri-spire rises like a rusted tooth from the land—part tower, part ruin. Jagged scaffolding and long-dead grow-columns cling to it like husks of old purpose. Still, there are signs of life: recent patchwork, a secured upper walkway, defensive wiring stretched taut between twisted struts.

She leads them around the base, past a collapsed irrigation system now acting as a crude corral. The lower entrance is hidden beneath sloped debris and reinforced plating. She dismounts and keys in a code on an old brass panel, then shoves a wheezing pressure door open with a grunt.

Warm, recycled air hits them—a contrast to the wind-battered cold outside. The walls inside are old support ribs of carbon steel, patched with thermal cloth and soft-gasket foam. It isn’t home, exactly. But it is a place that has held against worse.

Coughing into her sleeve, leaning against a pipe with a sigh.

“Well,” she mutters. “We made it.”

Dorn helps secure the mounts below, his motions practiced. But when he returns and finds her sitting on a battered crate, head tipped back, he pauses.

“Second flare?”

“Just tired,” she retorts, though her voice cracks at the edge.

He hands her a water flask and lowers himself nearby, the floor creaking beneath his weight. For a long time, they say nothing—just listening to the faint hum of long-dead hydroponics systems and the whisper of wind ghosting through the broken tower above.

Eventually, she gestures upward.

“This place used to grow food for a whole trade route,” she informs him. “Spliced grain columns, vat-melons, engineered root lines. All gone now. But the top’s still dry and the vents still cycle. Mostly.”

Dorn studies the way her fingers tremble slightly as she rubs her temple.

“And you came here alone?”

“No one else left to come with me,” she says simply.

Outside, night falls, and with it comes a quiet. Not the brittle quiet of open migration—but the settled kind. The kind with walls, however thin. For now, they’ve reached the end of the road.

[proshippers-against-censorship]

Hello, just stumbled on this blog

For a long time, I thought I skewed more to anti, since I knew I didn't agree with or like particular pairings or topics. As such I blocked those tags and posts, or vented privately if something truly upset me

However, I was reading other blogs regarding pro, and perhaps I actually skew more pro instead? I thought pro was simply endorsing everything, while anti meant you didn't. Which therefore seemed to mean I was more anti

I never liked the 'fantasy/fiction does not influence/affect reality' arguments I've seen, but I also do not believe in harassment (or worse) when block buttons are available. Therefore I've usually avoided all shipcourse since the topic did not seem appealing or align with me

Either way, I'm feeling unsure. So I'm curious what you might say. Apologies if I seem poorly updated on this, but it's been bugging at me recently. Thanks for answering if you do reply

By definition, you are proship.

You follow DL;DR, you block and move on, you don't cruelly engage with those who create content that disgusts you.

All being proship really is is being anti-harassment and pro-'use the goddamn block button'.

You don't have to engage or even really support icky content, you just have to peacefully move past it and go on with your day.

[quillneriine]

Beneath the Surface (Chapter 2)

Optimus gets an unexpected visitor.

I contemplated whether to make a separate fic, but I decided to just make another chapter for this since it's genuinely a direct continuation from the last chapter. I do apologize though that technically I will still keep this as "Completed" cause to be honest I cannot be trusted to continue fics, and this is one of those fics that I genuinely wasn't sure I was going to continue. However, there is technically a plot, it's just a matter of getting me to write it.

I don't like leaving things on cliffhangers so I try to just make the endings vague/ambiguous as to what may happen next skskks but yeah hope you like this chapter, it gives more insights to what the Primes are and their whole schtick. Also if you notice the tags, yes I have now revealed that Optimus is Zeta and Alpha Trion's sparkling.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63873463/chapters/164757055

prev

“Has anything strange happened in the archives since last astroweek, head archivist?”

He stared up from the datapad on the desk, digits tracing the edge as he tilted his head to the side. His false Cybertronian face had an easy smile on it, the default expression that he had created for his head archivist persona. It made it easier for bots to trust him. Especially annoying bots from the senate who thought they could barge into his office without so much as an appointment.

At least his carrier had warned him to quickly transform into his Cybertronian alt before he could be spotted in his true form.

“No. Unless you count the occasional missing datapad, senator.” He chuckled, narrowing his blue optics. That really was a problem Optimus needed to fix.

“No strange energy fluctuations? No indecipherable texts in any of the databases?” The senator continued to trail off, their optics trying to maintain a level of strictness and authority that made Optimus want to laugh. He didn’t need to enter their processors to know they were scared. “With the sudden rust storm, the senate wanted to ensure—”

“I assure you, senator, that the Iaconian Archives is completely unaffected by the rust storm.” He kept an even tone, though deep down Optimus was fuming that what he was saying was true. “Every information is accounted for and the archives are functioning perfectly as ever.”

“Alright. You understand this is merely procedure, don’t you? The Iaconian Archives is one of Cybertron’s most beloved and oldest heritage sites. It also houses the entire history of Cybertron—” A lie. “And the senate deeply cares that it will not be affected by the rust storm. We haven’t had one of this magnitude in cycles. Actually… How long have you been the head archivist? I can’t seem to—”

The senator’s voice trailed off, his optics turning glassy as Optimus leaned ever so slightly forward. As the senator had continued to speak, one of the wires that made up his true form had slithered past the fake Cybertronian frame he wore and had lodged itself between the other mech’s plating. Carefully, Optimus tore through the senator’s processor - hoping to remove any of his fears so that he could get out of his office faster.

“I understand, senator.” Optimus let a genuine smile appear on his face. “I care so much for the archives.”

He loved his carrier so much, and he’d rather offline every bot in Iacon than let anything happen to Alpha Trion.

“Yes, yes… Well…” The senator shook his helm, blinking his optics as if he was trying to remember why he was there in the first place. “It appears you have everything in order here, head archivist. I shall take my leave. Please, if you find anything strange, anything at all, do not hesitate to come to the senate.”

Optimus nodded sweetly, waiting patiently until the senator stood up, disappearing behind the door panels. He let out a soft vent, leaning back against his chair as he closed his optics.

The senate needed to get off his aft.

He could almost hear his carrier chiding him at the thought, but Optimus was so tired of receiving their messages - and now a senator had chosen to visit.

It didn’t help that the rust storm was caused by one of the Primes.

Optimus tilted his helm, letting the heavy Cybertronian frame sag in the chair as his true form let loose through the panels. He never did enjoy being confined in it. 

Through the window, he could make out the heavy cloud of gold rust that enveloped the entirety of Iacon. It upset him more that because of the rust storm, he wasn’t able to see the statue of his sire. He couldn’t be too upset though because he knew this wasn’t an ordinary rust storm. His carrier didn’t need to tell him, every part of him knew that this was the doing of another Prime.

Since last astroweek, a heavy cloud had settled over Iacon, but rust storms were a naturally occurring phenomenon. What really unsettled most bots was the sudden intense feeling of being watched. Even Optimus, who was safe inside the confines of the archive, had felt that lingering gaze fall upon him before it disappeared. 

Honestly, it had excited him.

It meant that Prima Prime was awake.

It wasn’t brief lucidity from the stasis, but a full awakening. 

Even Prima Prime wasn't capable of this storm if he was locked fully into stasis. 

Optimus couldn’t help but grin.

Really, if the rust storm continued to worsen, it might break the others out of stasis. 

While he was always with his carrier and was never too far from his sire, Optimus wished to see them, not just have Alpha Trion as a voice and a connection, but to see them awake.

For cycles he’d felt so alone, unable to really bask in the presence of anyone like himself until Megatron - and even that had been short since he had to return Megatron to his creators. Optimus couldn’t wait to see him again though…

Shaking his helm, he tried to put his processor back to work. He had databases to organize and information to analyze. He knew this rust storm was Prima Prime’s doing, but that didn’t mean this would be the cycle that all Thirteen Primes would awaken. He wanted it to be but Optimus had to prepare himself for the disappointment if it wasn’t.

With one of his wires, he began to connect himself to the archives - switching off the lights in the office as he activated the curtains to automatically close around the windows, basking the room in darkness. 

He was just about to escape the false Cybertronian frame when loud banging from the door made him pause. Optimus’ wires shook, rattling in irritation as he forced himself back inside the heavy frame again. 

If it was the senator again…

He made his way across the room, his pedesteps loud and heavy as he forgot to maintain any semblance of his head archivist persona.

As the door panels slid open, Optimus had just missed the warning ping from his carrier before a punch immediately greeted him. He reared back, not so much in pain but in shock as a familiar silver frame pushed his way into his office, the door panels sliding close. Familiar yellow optics glared straight at him, though this time, they had the faint glow of gold.

Megatron stood right in front of him, his entire frame trembling. Though there was a look of rage in the other’s optics, Optimus could tell that the shaking wasn’t from his emotions. His legs were trembling, and as he took another pedestep forward, he nearly collapsed into Optimus’ arms as if he had forgotten the ability to even walk. Rough servos gripped at him, enough that Optimus was sure the other would leave dents.

“What in the name of Primus is wrong with you?!”

—

After an entire joor of Orion Pax - or Optimus as that was his real designation - trying to calm him down, Dee sat sullenly by the head archivist’s desk. It was still the same chair that the other mech - if he even was a real mech - had bought for him. His scowl didn’t waver, even as the other tried to bribe him with energon treats. No matter how starved he felt, he refused anything from Optimus.

He didn’t want to end up in the lake again.

“You’re the cause of the storm…” Optimus spoke up first before Dee could start screaming again. He had settled on top of the desk, his frame shrouded in the darkness of the room that Dee could only see his blue optics. It felt familiar somehow. As if they’d been in this position before, and if Dee was right, they probably had. “How did you get out of the lake?”

“How did I—” Dee could feel his processor start overheating. His HUD flashing warning pop-ups of an imminent breakdown if he didn’t calm down, but right now, he could hardly contain his rage. “The question, head archivist, is WHY in the pits did you push me into the lake? WHY did you leave me to drown? And… and this is very important, WHAT was in that lake?!”

He wanted to pummel the other mech, wanted to see the metal dent beneath his fists but Dee controlled himself as another burst of pain tore through his frame. He groaned, curling into himself as he tried not to purge his tanks. He hadn’t gotten a decent amount of recharge since last astroweek. Dee had been hiding in alleyways, trying to avoid the sick feeling of optics roving over his entire being. If he didn’t know any better, it was as though the presence was seeing right into his spark.

“Answer my question first.” He could hear the pout in Optimus’ voice, and Dee… he was tired.

He let out a shuddery vent, offlining his optics as he curled himself on the plush chair. Everything ached.

“After that… thing—” Dee stopped, letting out a small sob as the presence that had haunted him since he’d arrived back in Iacon pressed down against his processor, easing as fast as it had come. “After you… threw me in the lake. I couldn’t see anything but two blue optics. I felt a large servo wrap around me… my entire frame, as if any normal Cybertronian could possibly do that. The lake was murky and I don’t know if I went into stasis lock but at some point I must have went online again. There was something holding onto me and I just started fighting back. I don’t know what came over me but I… bit down on it and the shock of that must have made it let me go because somehow I made my way back up to the surface. I swam back to shore and made my way back to Iacon. My pedes are sore…”

Dee vented, recalling the long journey. It was mostly a daze since he’d been in excruciating pain for a majority of the walk back to Iacon, and by the time he had arrived, the rust storm had hit. He’d been surviving in Iacon’s alleyways, making a slow move towards the Iacon archives so he could confront the mech who had tried to offline him.

“Here, let me—” He heard the other shift closer, digits wrapping around his leg struts.

He immediately lashed out, gritting his dentae as his pede hit metal. He didn’t know if it had any effect aside from hurting himself. “Get your filthy servo off me, Optimus.”

The other mech tightened their grip, though as if thinking better of it, Optimus eventually let go. Dee let out a vent of relief, his helm sagging against the side of the chair. 

“I was only trying to help…” The other mech muttered, though almost as if he was talking to something else, and Dee realized that the overbearing presence had shifted off of him for a few kliks. “I won’t do anything… yet.”

A sudden fluctuation of energy nearly sent Dee into stasis. He pressed his helm deeper into the chair, that presence wrapping around him even more. More warning pop-ups rose in his HUD but he tried desperately to dismiss them. He didn’t want to go into stasis with Optimus in the room.

“Are you… going to answer my questions?” Dee gritted out, trying to focus on why he had come back to the archives despite the danger. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Sorry, Megatron.” Optimus let out an embarrassed laugh. Before Dee could correct him, the other mech had begun speaking again. Before, Dee might have been endeared by how quick the other spoke, but right now it was only making him more nauseous. “I told you, I was just trying to bring you back to your creators. Also, you can’t drown.”

Slowly, he reset his optics, narrowing them at Optimus who had returned to where he was sitting. He could hear the grin in the other’s tone as he continued, “And you know, for someone who claims to love the Prime mythologies, you really couldn’t recognize Megatronus Prime?”

A frown slowly made its way to Dee’s face, and he stopped himself from correcting the other mech that in his defense, he could barely see anything in the energon lake. “That… that was the Megatronus Prime?”

“Cool, right?” He heard the other mech shift closer, those blue optics glowing brighter. “I always wanted to meet him myself. Alpha Trion says he was the strongest Prime that ever lived.” 

Another fluctuation of energy, though this time much lighter as if the presence around Dee was not as angry as before. It didn’t stop him from nearly purging. He pressed a servo against his dermas, resetting his optics again.

“And what? Y-you think that…?” Dee could hardly wrap his processor around it. “Fine, I believe you, the Primes exist. Why not? Next you’ll tell me Primus also exists.”

The silence that answered him was enough.

He let out a frustrated groan, wishing this was all some sick dream and he would wake up back at the old apartment he shared with his late carer. “But I’m not… Optimus, I’m not like them or you. Because… you are… something else, aren’t you?”

“Awww, thanks Dee. I know, I am something else.” 

He couldn’t see it, but he just knew that Optimus was giving him that annoyingly endearing smile of his. Dee didn’t return it.

Sensing that Dee was not in the mood for his nonsense, Optimus let out a small noise. “Yeah, I’m not Cybertronian. We’re not Cybertronian. It’s… it’s a long story.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dee rolled his optics, pressing deeper into the chair. Even if he wanted to - and he did - he couldn’t go anywhere without that presence following him. 

“Not that I’d let you.”

“What?”

“What?” Optimus stared back before quickly moving on, “You know how the Primes were mythical beings that Primus created and they watch over all of Cybertron? Well… that’s what the Senate wanted everyone to believe. No Cybertronian would feel safe if they knew the truth.”

“What truth?” Slowly, the pain began to disappear, though his frame still ached. The presence still lingered over him but it no longer threatened to have him fall into emergency stasis.

“The Cybertronians worship Primus, how do you think they’d react if they knew that their perfect god made mistakes?” While Optimus sounded amused, he could almost sense a layer of hurt in the other mech’s voice. “The Primes were one of his first creations. He… didn’t like how they turned out. Too many optics. Too large. Too small. Too molten. Too wire-y. The current Cybertronians that populate Cybertron today are what he considered his perfected creations.”

He’d heard Pax lecture before. He’d always held a tone of indifference, as if there was a layer between what he was stating and what he truly felt. Here, Dee could tell that Optimus wasn’t speaking based off of a database.

“So the Primes, unwanted—” Optimus rolled his optics. “Went into stasis after a few cycles of being hunted down by the senate.”

Dee thought back to the lake, to where Megatronus Prime was, and shuddered. “You woke him up though.”

“Temporarily.” Optimus insisted, “I had to return you to your creators. You shouldn’t even have been in Iacon!”

“You’re here.” Dee raised a servo, pointing an accusatory digit at him. “What? You can break the rules, but I can’t?”

“My carrier is here.” Dee really wished he could see through the darkness, because he needed to see Optimus’ face. He couldn’t tell if the other mech was lying.

“Here? I don’t remember seeing any of those mythical Primes here, Optimus.” Dee couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. “I think I would remember if I saw some thing —”

He bit his glossa, pain shooting through his processor as the presence bore down on him again. He reset his optics and as he curled even deeper into himself, he felt servos reach out for him, slipping beneath him.

Dee didn’t have the capacity to protest as he felt Optimus shift him into his arms, carrying him deeper into the office. He pressed his helm against the other’s chassis, praying that he didn’t purge his tanks because that would really be the worst. 

He heard the hiss of door panels opening and light flooded his optics as Optimus carried him into an adjoining room. Gently, he felt himself be placed down on a table before the other mech walked back into the office. After a few kliks, Optimus came back with the plush chair, carrying it with ease.

As Dee’s optics adjusted to the light, he realized that… Optimus looked differently.

He felt nauseous as he noticed the unprotected cables that came out from the other mech’s frame, the wires slithering along the floors and walls as if connecting themselves to the wall.

He had accepted that Optimus wasn’t a normal Cybertronian but to see a glimpse of what he really was…

Dee didn’t think his processor could handle it.

Placing the chair down by a large holo-display of Cybertron’s map, Optimus came back towards him, carefully lifting him up. Then he was back on the chair, the pressure disappearing as the presence stopped haunting him again.

Dee glanced up as Optimus tapped against the map.

“The Primes went into stasis and the senate covered them up.” Optimus gave him a soft smile, gesturing around them. “The Iaconian Archives is Alpha Trion, my carrier.”

Dee reset his optics, static bursting from his voice box. “WHAT?”

Optimus pointed to another location. “The lake - Tronus Lake as most mechs call it - where I threw you? That’s where Megatronus Prime resides. The mountain, or you know as they call it Prime Mountain? That’s where Prima Prime is, he’s your sire and he’s here… Sort of. Watching over you.”

Dee could hardly keep up as Optimus began to list down places, some that Dee knew from lessons he’d been taught as a sparkling about some of the more famous places in Cybertron, and which Prime resided or was that place.

Mostly, Dee was still stuck on what Optimus had said about who his creators were.

He’d known that Terminus had adopted him, even when he was just a sparkling. It was the strangest story. When the Iaconian Orphanage had taken him in, they said he had been found by one of the mines near… Tronus Lake. A miner had found a crying sparkling and had taken him back to Iacon. Nobody could pinpoint who his creators were so he was placed in the orphanage where eventually Terminus adopted him.

Was he really…?

That explained a lot.

“...And the statue that’s the heart of Iacon? That’s Zeta Prime. He’s my sire. I visit him sometimes but unlike my carrier I can’t talk to him.” There was a sadness in Optimus’ voice as he finished, his blue optics casting down to the ground. “But… thanks to you, maybe I can.”

“Huh?” Slowly, he realized that the presence that had followed him from the lake was completely gone. His frame still ached and he doubted he’d be able to make it a few pedesteps if he were to run right now.

“I didn’t think this would happen, but thanks, Megatron!” The other mech approached him, wires slithering forward with him that he couldn’t help but lean back. Optimus didn’t seem to notice his fear as he leaned closer, grabbing Dee’s servo in his own. “I really only meant to return you to your creators, but I guess a part of you just didn’t want to go into stasis, huh?”

“Optimus, what are you talking about?” He tightened his grip on the other, realizing now in the light that even as those digits began to dent underneath his hold, Optimus’ face didn’t seem to show any pain. 

If Megatronus Prime was a… merformer… What was Alpha Trion?

What was Optimus?

“So, and this is really cool, on Prime Mountain there’s a small lake on it. It’s really cool, it’s a lake inside a mountain inside of a larger lake!” Optimus laughed, as if he thought Dee would find this interesting. “Alpha Trion said that Prima and Megatronus designed it that way because you were supposed to be in that lake. He… doesn’t know how you got out of that lake but I guess you must really hate being in stasis, huh? I get it, nearly got mechnapped myself when I was a sparkling because I refused to stay in the walls with—”

There was… a lot of information that Dee needed to unpack from that but he could think about it when his processor wasn’t still hurting and when Optimus actually answered his question. He let the other mech’s servo go, reaching up to grasp Optimus by the shoulder pads. He shook him hard, “What. Are. You. Talking. About?!”

Optimus shook his helm, optics resetting as if he was just remembering what Dee had asked. 

He hated that it was a trait of his that he still found endearing.

The mech tried to drown him but Dee still found him endearing.

Primus above he hated himself.

“You woke up Prima.” The other mech admitted softly, he turned his helm to the side, and they both watched as the rust storm outside slowly began to end. Dee should feel relieved but… something about it made his spark churn inside his chassis. “Megatronus Prime can’t go on the surface. Unlike you, he’s unable to transform into a form that can walk. He must miss you. I know my carrier would be upset if I were to go too far from him.”

“What does that mean?” Dee felt like he already knew the answer.

“Well…” Optimus tilted his helm to the side. “Prima has to come get you now. Alpha Trion says that Prima gets very emotional, and the strength of his emotions alone are capable of awakening the other Primes…”

Optimus grinned, as if sharing good news.

“It’s really exciting, isn’t it, Megatron?”

[comatosebunny09]

Heya Bunny. Is everything alright?

Hello, anon, darling. Thank you for checking on me.

Fuck no, everything is not alright. Between people demanding writers write how they want, the morality police in the Love and Deepspace fandom, and people’s lack of self-awareness and manners on this app, I’m exhausted.

Writing for LADS is losing its luster to me. There is something new to complain about every day—someone new bitching, whether it be about characterization, morals, what they think is canon, dom vs sub, and things of that nature.

Every fandom I’ve been in for the past 20+ years has had some level of discourse, but LADS takes the cake. It’s no longer easy to ignore because people will intentionally tag their bitchfest posts in popular tags (i.e., sylus x reader, a tag I frequent because, hello? He’s fucking daddy) so that others can see them. I don’t even follow tags anymore because of it. Even if I’m not browsing tags, someone is intentionally reblogging something to stir the pot all over again.

I apologize, anon. I did not intend to use your ask to vent like this. I received the best advice today regarding interacting with the LADS community: don’t. I’ll post fics, interact with my moots, respond to comments, asks, and DMs, and keep it pushing. It’s mentally draining to do more than that. It’s exhausting trying to fellowship with anyone else in this fandom.

Thank you again for checking on me. I hope all is well. If you’re a follower or a mutual, thank you so much for your support.

[vinjaryou]

Oh BOY, did I love seeing this at 6:15 AM with a mug of hot coffee in my hand. And don't you go giving yourself a pat on the back for "not commenting on the post," either - I'm right here, you could've said something TO ME, but instead you chose to whine on bsky, knowing I would see it, and probably hoping that I would apologize for some reason.

Nope. No apology. I'm allowed to have my own thoughts and opinions - as you so graciously, sarcastically stated in all caps - because how dare I not bow down to the Be-All, End-All, God of All That is Vincent, apparently. For you, opinions are all fine and dandy, until it's something you don't like. Which is a hell of a lot, honestly. And you make sure that everyone knows it, too.

Like Angeal Hewley. Cid and Vincent together. The women of FFVII - but you really seem to despise Tifa especially, and Yuffie in EC. People who don't agree with your headcanons or opinions. People who ask you to tone down your attitude in your posts - because you have an extremely lofty opinion of your own thoughts, and if people dare to disagree with you, then damn they must really have it out for you, huh?

Girl, you are not the victim you think you are. You are not the God of Final Fantasy VII, and especially not of Vincent Valentine.

Drop the persecution and victim complexes. You're so goddamn high on yourself, and this is why no one wants to talk to you outside of your circle. You screaming about how someone dared to mention Angeal in a fic that they took the time out to write for one of your fandom weeks, or the snotty way you responded to a comment on your Strifentine art rather than just block and move on, is why no one wants to participate in your events. Calling a friend rude for not liking your OTP? Suddenly discovering that a character that you're apparently the expert on has hair and eye colors similar to a 'friendly acquaintance's' female OC because how dare someone ship Vincent with a woman?

Yeah, you're not subtle. But I'm a jerk. Got it.

I wasn't picking on VinVeld in my post. Honestly, I don't give a shit either way about the pair. I was giving my own opinion, on my favorite character's inclusion in a game, that I thought was an unnecessary, fanservicey cameo. But yes, let's make you feel so terrible, because you chose to keep reading my opinion and take it personally rather than just scroll past. You just HAD to run to bsky and cry about how dare I shit on yet another of your precious OTPs, one that's so rare, and I should throw myself before you and apologize for daring to think this way.

No.

This is no different than you talking about how much you dislike Valenw1nd. Or Angeal. Or Tifa. Or how people are just so stupid as to not see the "obvious chemistry" between Cloud and Vincent. Or how woefully misunderstood Genesis is. Not everything is about you, and implying that my post - my opinions - are so OBVIOUSLY, INTENTIONALLY MEAN-SPIRITED, when I wasn't thinking about you at all - is so horrifically manipulative that I just have to sit here and shake my head.

This is why people don't interact with you.

Everything's NOT about you.

I'm too fucking old for this shit. YOU'RE too fucking old for this shit.

Maybe you should take your own advice, from the wall of tags on one of the numerous fandom vents you've written: if you see any criticism of something you like as an attack, that's a problem you need to deal with on your own.

I'm done.

[king-midas-fortnite]

Hello. I assume there is little need for introduction, but I am Midas. I've recently returned from a brief..."sabbatical", shall we call it, in the Underworld.

My daughter, Jules thought it would be a good idea to keep a blog. Not sure why. Something about venting feelings, connecting with other people not in my crew, etc. Not exactly things I find very high priority, but I suppose it can't kill me. I'd know better than anyone what can, after all. And perhaps it'll make keeping tabs on people of interest easier...

Feel free to reach out, if you wish. Message me, tag me, whatever the case may be. I'll do my best to be active here. Whatever it takes to make my daughter happy. However, I am a busy man. Apologies if I miss anything.

((Keep reading for rules and notes!))

--------------------------------------------------

Rules and guidelines for interacting!

1. This blog is run by an adult. I am 26, my main is @snippydippy. Please keep this in mind when interacting with me. I ask that minors please consider a different Midas.

I will use (()) to indicate when I'm speaking out of character in any posts!

2. I don't mind NSFW content myself, but may not answer questions or reblog content pertaining to sexually explicit topics to keep things relatively appropriate.

3. This blog may contain ship content, it may not. I have ships I like, they may not be the ones you do. While my version of Midas is cis, he's not straight (bi king). If this bothers you, I don't know what to tell you.

4. My DMs and asks will always be open! Please don't be shy, Midas won't bite. I'm down to RP in the reblogs with anyone! However, DM roleplays for other adults only, please.

5. This blog will always be skewed towards a more serious vibe. I take my characterization of Midas very seriously (more so than I probably should for a FN character lol). You won't find much in the way of him being a silly guy. Even if I find it funny, if I don't think a situation would be in character for my version of him, it won't happen.

That's it as far as my rules go aside from the obvious "don't be a dick" sentiments that I feel I shouldn't have to say. Thank you for reading them! Next are just a couple notes on my headcanons for Midas.

-Midas has some control over his Golden Touch. I think of the curse in a way that is similar to chronic pains. Some days, it is manageable, and he can touch whatever he'd like without issue. Some days, it is bad. He has to avoid people, can't eat, and struggles getting through mundane tasks without frustration.

I believe his curse may also be in part tied to his emotions. Any intense anger, sadness, or other strong feelings will make it harder to control the Touch, and it does cause him some amount of pain when it's out of control. (Doing mental gymnastics to explain why Fortnite itself isn't consistent with his power.)

-Jules means everything to Midas. He will do absolutely anything in his power to keep his daughter safe and to keep his relationship with her in good standing. He's wronged her in the past, and is doing all he can to make up for those actions and lost time.

-His time in the underworld changed him a bit. He's less cold to the people close to him. He allows more feeling than pure calculation into his thought processes, but a stranger may not be able to tell. Midas is a relatively closed off man. He does not wear his emotions on his sleeve, and doesn't often make friends without some kind of benefit to be had from the relationship. Be it power or connections. However, the friendships he does have mean a great deal to him. He is quick to provide aid in any way he can to those he cares about.

Another thing about his imprisonment in Hell: Time in the underworld was experienced differently. While we may have waited four years for Midas to return, for him it was much, much longer. Now that he is back, he is determined to never be put in chains ever again.

-This version of him obviously has not left the island after returning from the underworld, instead opting to stay as his curiosity for how things have changed has gotten the better of him. He wants to keep up with the power struggles, and find a way to insert himself back into them.

Tags I'll use!

This blog is semi-independent! Some lore is shared with @perseus-ihatemydad-fortnite in that he helped Midas escape from the Underworld, and there have been extensive lore discussions and shared ideas with the muns for @valeria-fortnite and @kado-fortnite.

TIMELINE IS A WIP

This blog is old enough now with a long and involved story that I think probably merits a simple timeline for anyone new here. I'm working on it, promise.

#Midas Answers -For asks answered in character

#Midas Posts -For interactions in character

#Gold Encounter -For interactions between other characters that are meant to be read as happening in-person/privately

#Journal Entries - For uh. For Journal Entries lol. These are, in a meta sense, private to him. They are for interactions that happen on the Discord server rather than Tumblr for reader convenience.

#Gold Reserves -In-character reblogs of art, aesthetic posts, etc.

#Shut your trap snippy -For posts like these that include me talking OOC (I know, long tag. It's just what I've been using on my main blog for years to tag my own garbage lol)

- 👑 for anon messages

Screenshot in this post and my header are from @corvidazed 💛

Thank you for getting all the way down here! I hope our interactions are fun!

[demigod-shenanigans]

"I can go into why i dislike ToA (especially Tyrant's Tomb is. a book that exists) but box of pandora. Once open good luck shutting me up" (source: your tags)

Now that you said that, i'm geniunely curious. Open the box. I dare you

This should be obvious but @ the people who really enjoyed ToA, this post is not for you. I’m not sure I’ll even tag it because this is mostly me venting into the void because two people asked and not me wanting to ruin other people’s fun. These are just my personal opinions.

I also apologize if I get any details wrong, I did recheck a lot of the things mentioned but it’s been a minute since I read ToA and might not remember everything 100% correctly. Also, obvious spoiler warning.

*claps hands together* Okay, you asked for this but heads up, it’s going to be long. Maybe grab a snack and a glass of water beforehand.

My beef with ToA can be summarized into a few key points that I’ll elaborate on below but basically:

-It tries to wrap up character arcs for some of the seven (and Reyna) but does this through the eyes of someone with zero context and also treats these characters arcs as unimportant footnotes in the larger story

-Jason’s death and everything surrounding it was handled extremely poorly.

-I cannot remember any demigods staying mad at Apollo. Redemption arcs should not mean everyone has to forgive this character for all the shit they’ve done in the past.

-The death toll. This is not helped by the fact that a lot of the deaths feel like they exist solely for the purpose of making Apollo learn death sucks over and over again (Jason is the worst example of this, but there are others)

More grievances I have but don’t have enough to say about to justify a longer explanation:

-There are a whole bunch of new minor characters on top of the old ones already struggling for screen time. I don’t remember much about any of them, which is a shame because the idea behind some of them is really compelling.

-The story is centered around the Triumvirate as antagonists, with Python as a final boss, but book four just dumps an additional antagonist on you out of nowhere? Why?

-Reyna rejecting Apollo is nice and all but I still had to put up with him crushing on her and was very uncomfortable the whole time.

-Chiron sends a bunch of new demigods into what’s potentially a death battle and tells them it’s a fun field trip (what the fuck)

-This is a personal grievance more than anything but it took me ages (book five) until I really got attached to Meg. I feel like that could have been fixed if she at least got a few POV chapters.

-Dishonorable mention to the punch line joke. Two whole camps of people lining up to hit the canonically abused kid that saved them is not funny.

Details under the cut (Pandora’s box, I did warn you)

Character arcs:

The books really do try to tell meaningful stories for people whose arcs weren’t finished in Heroes of Olympus. With some of them, you can even tell the ideas behind wrapping up those arcs were solid. But the books also tells those stories through the eyes of a character who doesn’t know these people’s pasts and quite frankly doesn’t care a lot of the time. People will voice/do something that is huge for their character and instead of going into that it’s followed up with some random Apollo anecdote that’s only tangentially related at best.

Taking Leo as an example: Apollo has no idea why Leo settling down and finding a home somewhere after everything he’s been through is meaningful. That’s a story that could have been the focus of an entire book of its own, but instead it’s just a side plot to a completely different story. And that story really should have been told through Leo’s eyes, or at least through the eyes of someone like Jason or Piper who realize why this is huge for him.

Apollo also does not care why Leo and Calypso are fighting, so it’s not something that’s properly explored. Leo’s fights with Calypso are mainly mentioned/witnessed. You get some guesses as to how they started but they never mention the exact reasons. They both say they care about each other, but only to Apollo, when the other person isn’t present. When they sort things out it happens largely off-screen. I was also not a fan of the way many of their issues ended up being pinned on Leo being sexist when it was actually way more than that.

ToA does this a lot. It gives arcs to characters who honestly deserved to be explored more, but those arcs are barely footnotes in a larger story where these characters just cameo for a hundred or so pages.

The cameo stuff works okay for Percy and Solangelo because the books are very aware they’re cameos and they get to have fun but this is not their story. But the characters the series tries to give proper plots to are all over the place.

It’s said that Jason and Thalia are really close but they never interact in the books. Jason had a bit of a chance at a normal life finally but that’s barely gone into. (More on Jason later because my god did how the books handled him piss me off massively)

Piper’s struggles with her queerness get the random Apollo anecdote treatment. There’s some stuff about her reconnecting with her dad and her heritage but that’s not explored a ton either.

Frank’s firewood burns up and he’s fine, which is just sort of hand-waved and doesn’t feel meaningful, especially because I think the fireproof pouch was already a fine solution? Congrats on being free of this, now you can get stabbed to death like all the other characters, I guess.

Reyna gets a sort of arc but it feels really weird because it happens almost entirely off-screen. She spends a large fraction of the book chiding Lavinia for leaving her post, then gets her leg broken, is off-screen for a while and then just DIPS with the Hunters after her home suffered huge casualties.

I also think her joining the Hunters is a super lame way to resolve her arc in general (she just lays down one responsibility to sign up for the next, and a character not wanting romance/not wanting romance right now should be allowed to exist without having to join the eternal maiden’s club, but that problem isn’t isolated to Reyna and could honestly be a whole post of its own)

This also comes down to the fact that I’m here mainly for the demigods. I care about these kids having good arcs and good lives. I care significantly less about Apollo having to learn really obvious shit like “murdering my pregnant girlfriend was perhaps a little messed up”

Jason’s death and everything surrounding it

Killing off a major character (especially one whose arc isn’t finished) can be a plot twist that works at times. But it has to be handled well. Doing it to a character that’s suffered horrifically and is starting to heal is also a hugely shitty move, but I understand you want meaningful deaths for the plot sometimes.

But you cannot do it the way Rick did it with Jason’s death. If he was going to kill off one of the seven, he should have done it in Heroes of Olympus, with that character narrating and their friends getting to deal with the aftermath and grieve.

Instead, Jason dies in a book that he appears in for like. A hundred pages iirc? Two-hundred at most? You get Apollo narration on it, and sure, he’s big sad about it, but he also knew this guy for two days.

Piper gets a few pages to deal with his death, then disappears from the book and comes back for a heroic rescue later. Leo gets like two pages to deal with the fact that his best friend is dead. They then proceed to fuck off to Oklahoma instead of going to the funeral. For what reason? No idea. The book doesn’t bother to explain it.

Jason gets a Camp Jupiter funeral, with none of his Camp Half-Blood friends present, because fuck the fact that him belonging to both camps was a huge part of his arc, right?

Piper and Leo know Jason is dead but they cannot be there because they’d already used up their time as ToA side characters, I guess. Percy and Annabeth can’t come, they don’t find out due to demigod communication issues until the end of the series. Thalia also doesn’t get to go to her brother’s funeral. She doesn’t find out until the funeral is already over. We don’t even really get to see her grieving, her finding out Jason died happens off-screen too.

Because this is the Apollo show, Apollo is the guy who leads the funeral procession instead of, like, Reyna, who knew Jason for years.

Also, for some reason, the person avenging Jason is Frank? Absolutely no offense to Frank, he’s a great guy and I’m sure he cared about Jason, but that choice still feels deeply comedic considering I can remember exactly one meaningful interaction him and Jason had in HoO (Jason giving Frank praetor position at the end of HoH) and not a single conversation they had beyond that. If Rick had to write Leo and Piper out of the plot, why not at least have Reyna avenge him?

Jason dies specifically because Apollo broke a stupid oath he made on the River Styx. We’re told that people around him will keep dying because of this. He dies as a chess piece in a stupid game between gods, for the sake of Apollo’s character development. He dies so he can be brought up every hundred pages for Apollo to waffle about how sad his death was but how he’d also definitely not want to be brought back (I get it, we cannot revive people constantly, but having Apollo make this point when, again, he knew the guy for two days, is still really stupid. Nico also gets to make the same point at the end just in case the reader didn’t understand before that we’re not bringing Jason back)

Apollo is forgiven by everyone

Related to the above point. Like I said, we’re outright told that Jason dying is a direct consequence of Apollo’s oath. Apollo also knew taking them along on the mission would get Jason or Piper killed and he did it anyway.

Piper gets to be mad at him very briefly, but when he tries to apologize at the end of the book, she interrupts him and tells him “it’s fine” (her voice is described as “no anger, just natural heat”)

Thalia doesn’t get to be mad at him at all. Her baby brother died and she just pats Apollo on the back and tells him “it’s fine, Jason made his own choices. That’s what heroes do.” And then it’s made about how Artemis lost Apollo when he got transformed into a human instead of. Like. The fact that Thalia just lost her baby brother for the second time in her life.

IT’S FINE?? THAT’S ALL ANYONE HAS TO SAY ABOUT THIS??

Hell, Apollo even has a sort of dream hallucination of Jason’s ghost so that ghost can forgive him too.

Was that really necessary? Why do people think that a character learning to be better means absolutely everyone has to forgive them? Wouldn’t it have been a better sticking point for a god to learn people are allowed to stay mad at you?

The death toll

A lot of people die in these books. People dying in pjo books has always been a thing, but it’s never felt this pointless or this much like it was solely happening for a single person’s character development.

Jason is the most pointed example of this, but there are more. Starting with the fact that two of Apollo’s kids almost get torched in front of his face in the first book (Austin and Kayla) and somehow that is not a sticking point. I don’t think it’s ever brought up again afterwards.

Other characters that die so Apollo can learn death sucks:

-Several Dryads die saving the grove of Dodonna

-Heloise the Griffin

-One random unnamed demigod in Dark Prophecy (mentioning them because that’s where it occurs to Apollo demigod deaths also suck)

-Money Maker (Dryad)

-Crest

-Harpocrates and the Sybil of Cumae

The death toll in Tyrant’s Tomb is completely ridiculous. Like, “feels worse than Last Olympian despite not even being the final battle”-ridiculous. And unlike how Percy at least gets to use that tragic battle to change things in a fundamental way, the Camp Jupiter demigods don’t win anything significant. Their home is only almost completely destroyed. Some of them aren’t dead. That’s it.

If you remember the name of any side character Camp Jupiter demigod from HoO, there’s a very high chance they die in this book.

We don’t get exact numbers for how many people die. The book actually explicitly refuses to give numbers, stating “We didn’t count the dead. They weren’t numbers. They were people we had know, friends we had fought with.” (Which gets even more ironic due to the fact that, again, we barely have any named CJ demigods to begin with)

The closest thing we get to numbers are that 25 demigod members of the legion died in the battle before the book started, and towards the end there are fourteen total demigods still standing of the first to third cohort combined. Even if half the missing demigods are “just” so severely wounded that they can’t fight anymore, that’s still 60 dead kids! The pre-book battle was mentioned to have been hardest on the civilians. We don’t know how many of them died, and losses among the fourth and fifth cohort are also unknown, but that is a ridiculous amount of losses. Why are there so many dead kids in this book and why are we all just supposed to be okay with this?

Jupiter explicitly forbids the other gods to intervene. The only one who does is Diana, after an offering, and she takes her sweet time to get there. That camp is named after the guy! That’s people’s kids down there! I know the gods not helping their kids isn’t exactly new, but this is on a whole other level.

There are funerals but those are largely skipped over, and Frank announces that they’ll resolve this by asking Lupa to bring in more demigods so they’ll come back stronger, which. Baffling statement. Let’s just fix the dead people by replacing them.

TL;DR: Good on Apollo for learning to be better, but I really didn’t like how it was done. There were a handful of things I liked in almost all the books, not including Tyrant’s Tomb which wins the award for rrverse book I most wanted to chuck out of a window. Some of the ideas were good. I think the first and last book are mostly solid (largely due to the fact that those don’t try to shove in entire side character arcs). But the things I did enjoy just get very heavily outweighed by everything that annoyed and upset me.

I really wish ToA had been mostly new characters with maybe some minor cameos, and other people’s arcs had been saved for different books. I also think splitting the perspective between Apollo, Meg and maybe the HoO character who was trying to have an arc in that specific book would have helped.

[someprettyname]

＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚. ❗❗GOTTA PIN IT❗❗　˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊

BEFORE YOU INTERACT

⚠️ This user vents, yaps, whines and rants a lot. ⚠️

⚠️ HANDLE WITH CARE. ⚠️

[ This post is subject to change, everytime i add a point i will reblog it so y'all know ┏⁠(⁠＾⁠0⁠＾⁠)⁠┛ ]

>>> Mira/Nami/any pretty name

Just know that you'd have a special place in my heart of you assign me a unique nickname. That's what my URL and overall blog theme is about 😌 my name is the pretty name hehe :]

>>> I spam reblog often, i have a proper tagging system but just beware of that before you follow me.

When I say spam reblogging i MEAN spam reblogging. Fanarts, analysis, fic (self written and reblogs), interactions with mutuals and others, RPing with blue lockers and/or others, thirsting - EVERYTHING. I DUMP EVERYTHING on here.

>>> Late replies (advance apologies)

If I ever don't reply to something you tagged me in that's because I might've missed it among my other notifs, not because I'm ignoring it. { I try to reply to everything, I love interacting with people. Bear with me, please. } Sometimes, replying to certain things takes me days to a week. So that too. Saying this so you know what you're getting yourself into, i wouldn't want you overthinking my reply time unless we are in a conflict/argument.

>>> SUPER SELECTIVE follow backs.

Sometimes, I love a blog but don't follow it because you might be reblogging stuff I don't want to see on my dash. Just that. No hard feelings. Related to that : If I call you my moot YOU ARE MY MOOT. That's how it is in here, i don't have to follow you back for that. In my mind you are my sweet moot. Period. I'm a believer in "moots in spirit" concept 😌 I don't mind people asking me to be moots, but if I ignore your request please do take the hint. Also, if you're asking me to be moots always send the ask off anon so I can reply privately in case I'm saying no.

>>> DO NOT DM before asking me/until I do it myself.

If I've closed my inbox then comment on any of my post/pinned post to ask me but NEVER DM me before asking me/unless I've given a green flag beforehand. If my ask box is open and you'd rather communicate over DM just shoot me an ask and if I feel like it I'll DM you first. Point to note when you're shooting me an ask for DMing is to be considerate and put the ball in my court rather than making it a yes/no consent question. There's a difference. If you ever DM me without asking and you're someone I've never talked with in DM/discord before then I WILL have to block you. Don't be surprised. As much I'd hate to do that, you've already broken my boundary once and I'm not going to sit and hope you don't do it a second time. I have already compromised once in the past with someone and it turned out ugly.

>>> NOT SPOILER FREE

Don't come at me for not tagging the spoilers.

>>> I reblog NSFW, be warned.

Minors who interact with me, please be responsible. I don't really want to have a MDNI criteria for a few bad and irresponsible cases.

>>> I self ship with multiple characters, do NOT shame me in any way.

Self shipping/thirsting/simping is my way to show an appreciation for a character, it should be obvious that it does NOT reflect how I approach things in real life so when you shame me over it any way (yes, playful jokes included) it puts me in a tough spot. It makes me uncomfortable in my skin, don't do that. Don't be the one who spoils my experience here. I'll ignore such comments, and if you keep doing it again and again know that you'd only be DAMAGING your relationship with me. Period.

>>> Journaling personal thoughts.

This place is my safe space at this point so I'll often write out and post my personal thoughts here. #shitpost - is for general light-hearted stuff/ranting, thoughts that I'm fine sharing with others. #chatter - random passing thoughts (I'm mostly being crackhead in that tag honestly) , not meant for others to see but it's fine if you see and comment on it. Idm. #diary - self explanatory, can have heavy traumatic stuff under the tag, again - not meant for others to see but it's fine if you see and comment on it. Idm. If I don't want people to see something/interact with a particular post I'll mention it in the post!! Another pointer is that I'm a sanatani through and through so I'll post about stuff related to hinduism in general (occasionally), if that triggers you or you're not a believer feel free to block the tags #desiblr and #hindublr.

[applbottmjeens]

AMERICAN TASTE

Phillip Graves x OC

tags: not super angsty, implied sex, hopeful(?) ending, Graves is a dickhead but he's in love, toxic ass relationship, MDNI anyway

summary: Phillip reminisces about how Anna used to be and who she is now.

Anna used to kiss his scars. 

An adorable gesture, and she definitely wasn't the only one who's done it. 

She didn't ask for stories, for reasons. Only soft kisses on whatever she'd find, and maybe a bite or two just to annoy him.

She took him for who he was- a cocky fuckin' asshole, a traitor, a cunning bastard who would tear her apart.

And she loved him anyway. Adored him like some misguided stray. He'd tell her he wasn't gonna cave into her charming little act so easily and she'd only hear that he called her charming.

What kind of bullshit was that? 

He knew she still loved him now. It's why she was here in his bed in the first place. Right?

But she doesn't kiss him at all. And who could blame her? 

It didn't mean he wasn't…upset by it. Offended even. 

He's said his apologies. Given her space. What about her forgiveness? He'd done so much for her. Given her this job, got her a place to hide from everyone else, got her someone she could trust to watch over the little bundle of joy that bastard from Busan had put in her before he fucked off out of the country. 

And now she couldn't even look at him. All because he said he loved her. 

She's in his bed, lying with her back turned to his as he plants gentle kisses on her back. Her muscles tense, his lips brushing over the tattoo she got in his memory when she was sure he was dead- an ace of spades card on fire, with the words: take this love to my grave.

There's a small bullet scar on her back. It's small and round like a pockmark healed near her shoulder. 

"...Gonna say anything?" He says, her silence more loud than any of the noises they'd made just minutes before.

"Annie?"

She grabs her clothes and slips them back on, not looking at him. The glimpses of her face look hurt. Numb. 

He wants to beg her to stay a little longer. Stay with him in bed, stay with him emotionally. But his pride wouldn't let him. Hadn't he begged her to join the Shadow Company? Wasn't that enough?

He'd taken his Annie for granted. 

Smiling up at him, leaning onto him, randomly sneaking kisses when she was sure nobody was there.

"There's my Phillip!" She'd grin when they were together, and smother him with hugs and he'd only roll his eyes and pretend he wasn't happy to see her too.

To him, there were two women he'd had the privilege of falling for in Annabelle. 

Annie, his adoring little thing whose rose tinted lenses made her see past the red flags. Who loved him like some hopeless teenage girl and got on his nerves for fun. Who played pranks and did everything to make him smile a little when he was around. Who looked damn pretty when she cleaned herself up, whose lipstick smudged perfectly when he messed with her.

And Sergeant Pham, who was just as good as Soap on the field and ambushed enemy soldiers hiding in crawl spaces or in the vents like some vermin. Who wasn't afraid of other people's blood and fought like she wasn't afraid of dying. Who hung onto her superior officer's words like gospel.

He lost his Annie the moment he followed his orders that November. But he gained Sergeant Pham when he'd convinced her that this job would be in her best interests for her son. Some would call it manipulation. He'd call it getting her to see what was best for her. 

Why won't she look at him?

"Hey." Phillip says quietly. "Annie." 

She turns to him, the dim lamp illuminating her face, her expression empty if not inconvenienced.

"...Stay with me." He says, and he swears he sees her eyes show some sort of emotion.

"I have to get up at-"

"Please." His voice cracks at the end. Her pause seems eternal before she crawls back into the sheets with him. She still doesn't face him, but his arms wrap around her waist and he pulls her close, sighing. 

"I love you." He says again. "I missed you so much, Ann." 

Minutes of silence. He's almost ready to just let himself hold her close until he falls asleep and wakes up without her there when he faintly hears her speak.

"...You too."

[graboidmilk]

I don’t think I could ever label my oc as a sona. Despite her being a literal exact copy of me (except for looks) everything is the same, back story, personality. All of it. Putting a sona label on it I think would make me pull away to the point I’d drop her and erase everything I have of her. I think it’s he fear of letting people know that it’s who I am? Or maybe it’s coming to terms with what’s happened to me. I don’t think there’s a single thing I haven’t been through as a female. I think it’s mostly fear.

Does labeling your sonas as sonas help you? Or is it more of just how you present art and your life? (I can’t think of the exact way to word it and those are the best words I could use, so I do apologize if it comes off wrong)

Be non apologetic, my friend.

For me, it's all of the above. I like to give people a good representation of what I look like through drawing because I hate seeing photos of myself- I hate people looking at me, but I still wanted people to be able to find that connection with me through my art.

I think, at least for personal reasons, it's also desensitization.

At the end of the day, I don't love myself.

I don't love my voice, or my laugh, or my body or my face or my anything.

I don't believe there's anything to love, so my sonas are ugly, too. White hairs and unsightly eye bruises that age them far past the youth of 23, an ugly tooth gap that should've been fixed but never was, riddled with scars both self inflicted and otherwise, just... everything I hate.

When I first started drawing my sonas, their skin was pale and simple, as thin as a twig with a flat chest, their hair was whatever colour I wanted it to be, they had piercings and smiled and looked cool as hell because that's what I wanted to look like.

but I don't look like that.

I look how I look, whether I like it or not. I can diet, I can work out and lift weights- and I do- but no matter what I do, these white hairs won't turn black again, these scars will never fully heal themselves, and this face will be mine until I die unless I want to spend thousands trying to fix it.

Tracing myself for my art has been... I don't know if I'd say 'freeing,' but it's easier to look in the mirror now.

As for their backstories- especially with all of the detail I go into for Chalcanthite- it's just venting, really. As can be expected, I don't really. talk. about my feelings much- and so it's an outlet. That's all it really is, I guess- an outlet for emotions I don't really care to name. Exposure therapy to myself, maybe. My art has always been for myself and no one else. Of course I try to keep in mind other people whenever I tag my work, but my art is for me. I don't care what people think of my sonas' backstories- I don't care what people think of my lived experiences, because no matter what anyone thinks, it will never undo what's been done to me or the life I live because of it.

So it's okay to be afraid.

It's okay to be afraid because that can be so, so terrifying to come to terms with.

And not everyone is the same- not everyone is helped by the same things.

It's okay if it doesn't help you, but if you wanted to try, I would support you. I know I'm not much, just some guy that's only been on this website for like three or four months, but I would support you in doing whatever you think is best for yourself.

Just know that no matter what, it's okay to be scared. You're worth worrying about, and fear is natural. Do whatever you have to, to keep yourself safe.

Sona or OC or Self Insert, as long as it makes you happy and you're not hurting anyone, there's no wrong way to do it. Live for yourself, my friend.

[soov]

hi, i saw your post regarding the current issue that’s happening. i’m saying this in the nicest way possible: what’s very bothering is how your post makes absolutely no correlation to what’s happening. you can not compare the past to the present. society is a lot different than what it was 50 years ago. also in the tags you said if hitler and bin laden were korean, we’d support them. did you forget about kim jong-un and other several korean war criminals? you’re literally comparing people that have committed war crimes against countries to celebrities that barely have the right to speak for themselves. you’re acting as if they’re being added to history textbooks. i understand the way you connect how listening to one’s artist is the death of millions. but do NOT assume we are supporting these dying people. you can’t deny that everything we contribute to the government contributes to all the genocides. yes we can stop by not listening to the artists’ musics and avoid buying things that are straight from zionist companies. but we can’t control the money we make as a society happens to go in the hands of the countries that are killing millions. this will be rude of me, but just suck it up. we live in a world where some things we do are controlled by the government. i get it, you’re trying to advocate and that’s good, but if you’re going to do so, (and i’m not asking you to be nice with your words) please be respectful about it.

first of all, i apologize if i didn’t come as respectful, since that wasn’t my intention in any way.

second of all, who is the “we” plastered all over this ask? “we” who? who’s not supporting “these dying people”? again, i made an open post triggered by a specific post here, but it was not targeted at anyone, it was a vent post.

i made sure to put by the end of the tags that it’s not the first time i make a post like this. so, funny that the shoe fit on someone. should’ve came off anon.

regarding the rest of your post, yes, comparing past and present exists and it is called historical analogy. i would really recommend you to look into it, there’s some good books on pdf out there. and it’s really interesting for you to say “society is a lot different than what it was 50 years ago” since the israel and palestine conflict started 76 years ago (almost 77) in 1948, and ww2 (when naz1sm had its peak) 85 years ago — only 9 years apart.

the example i gave, despite being a bit maximalist, was referring to the “creator” and the problem, when they’re tightly intertwined. when i compare the h1tler and naz1sm analogy to artists who have been funding the genocide, i am simply saying that it’s no different for you to consume the things that were made and created by terrible people, even if it’s from a different font.

even if you stream their music or content through other platforms, is your mind really at peace knowing the person you’re listening to supports the state of isr4el, a “country” built upon palestinian lands? are they paying your bills to the point you can’t boycott them? they don’t know you, but you know about the people suffering in gaza. that is the main point.

when i mentioned these three disgusting and terrible men, i was talking the people who have double standards when it comes to east asian people and the rest of the world, and have blatantly supported even kim jong-un, that you mentioned, because he was north korean. i did not forget him, but i mentioned the others for everyone to realize that some people take obsession to the next level, ignoring whatever inhumane things these criminals have done.

about the “celebrities that barely have the right to speak for themselves”, why are you trying to defend them? i can list you a bunch of idols who are also from controlling companies and had the nerve to come out supporting palestine, even if subtly. the fact that your faves who were at fault aren’t speaking up is their problem. great to know they like the money in their pockets better than the ones begging for donations to survive for other ten minutes before they’re bombed again.

listening to one artist is not the cause behind the death of millions, but even if it was the cause of the death of only one person, i wouldn’t support them. is this topic only relevant to you when the artists are equal to netanyahu?

you are absolutely correct for the last part when you talked about our money going to the government. i have the privilege to live in a country who’s sending donations to palestine and supporting them amidst the conflict, but i know so many people unfortunately live in countries where that doesn’t happen. however, don’t forget that YOU CAN and SHOULD demand action from your politicians and your government.

when i talk about the boycott, i talk about what you and i can do individually to keep pressing these multimillionaire companies and millionaire artists who are living their best lives, while others are praying to their God to keep their babies alive one more day. we saw what happened to puma, so we can do the same to other companies too.

i have went to one of the two protests that happened in my city, been actively boycotting all companies i can and buying from local sellers and brands, as well as donating to the families in need whenever i get some money in my hands. even then, i do know that this is NOT enough — the opposite, that is the bare minimum i do for them — and it won’t ever be enough until the palestinians legally have their WHOLE land back with full control over what happens in it.

[lythea-creation]

Brighten My World - Tasneem x fem reader (Chapter 5)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

warnings: none, i think

word count: 937

----------------------

“Are you coming to Omar's birthday party tomorrow night? I'd really love you to be there”, Tasneem proposed.

Once again we were cuddling on her bed after school.

“Sorry, but I can't. I already have plans”, I enlightened her.

“What plans?”, Tasneem wondered, looking down at me.

I had not wanted to tell her at all, maybe after it was all over. After all she had been looking forward to Omar's birthday party for quite some time now as they were pretty good friends. Honestly it surprised me that she had waited so long to ask me to come along. Although she had probably just assumed that I would agree to tag along anyway.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's okay”, she reassured me. “It's not like you're obliged to tell me where you are just because I'm your girlfriend.”

“That's not it. I just … I'm going to a memorial for Layan. And I didn't want to tell you because I was scared that you'd feel weird about it or wouldn't be able to enjoy the party”, I admitted.

“Do you want me to come?”, she offered.

“You don't have to.”

She interrupted me: “I know. That's why I asked if you wanted me to come.”

“I don't want you to miss out and feel out of place”, I noted.

“Still not what I asked”, she reminded me.

“Okay”, I snapped. “I want you to come! Happy now?”

She gently stroke through my hair, calming me down again. “I'll come”, she promised.

I wanted to resist again. It felt like I did not deserve her kindness, her support. But at the same time I desperately tried to resonate with myself. After all it was probably my grief that was talking, the urge to isolate myself. The guilt of not being able to save Layan that was gnawing at me. The guilt that was trapping me, telling me that I deserved to suffer.

But it was all in the past. It still hurt of course and rationally thinking it should. Layan had been incredibly precious to me after all.

Yet Tasneem was with me now and I did not want to miss out on my life with her over the one I had lost with Layan. There simply was no going back in time. And considering it was making me feel torn.

Because even if I could change the past, it would mean to lose Tasneem. So the what if scenario was not soothing in the slightest.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you”, I apologized.

“It's nothing really. Hiba's way worse, you know”, she claimed.

“I still don't like it. I don't wanna hurt you”, I noted.

“Like I did when you visited me for the first time?”, she wondered.

“Is it still bothering you?”, I inquired.

I took her hand that was caressing me and turned around a bit to be able to look up at her properly.

“Kinda”, she admitted. “You didn't deserve that.”

“But you needed to vent”, I pointed out. “You were just not used to talking about your feelings. That's why you talked me down. Of course, it wasn't the right way to handle it, but you did all you could. Apologize and not repeat it. There's no need to beat yourself up over it.”

She softly smiled down at me and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

“But about Hiba”, I changed the topic, sadly making her smile falter. “I really think you should talk to her.”

“Did you forget how she treated you? She literally threatened you”, she recalled.

I had told her about the bathroom incident. Not to screw Hiba, but to get it off my chest.

“Just view it from her perspective. You two have been best friends and all of a sudden you started hanging out with Sarah, placing her over everything and everyone else, including her. I bet she feels like you replaced her and that's why she's acting out so much. She misses and needs you. Now you're spending pretty much all your time with me, which I'm not complaining about by the way. But I think it's understandable for her to be jealous and feel left out”, I considered.

There was a small moment of silence as she was taking my words in.

“Shit”, she cursed quietly. “Why do you always have to be right?”

“Naturally gifted”, I joked, earning a laugh from her. “You could ask her to spend the weekend with you.”

“But we already have plans”, she reminded me.

“Which won't disappear until the next weekend”, I remarked. “I don't want to force you to do anything, but that way you can find out how to handle the situation. You know what your therapist advised you.”

“Be blunt with the people I care about instead of holding up a facade. Yeah, I know”, she declared.

“So what do you think?”, I questioned.

“Okay, I'll try. I do miss her”, she confessed. “Although I really don't wanna leave you alone after tomorrow.”

“Maybe I can hang out with Rania”, I suggested. “I haven't seen her in a long time.”

“Who's Rania?”, Tasneem wondered.

“Layan's best friend. We also came along well, but we kinda lost each other after Layan's death. Were too busy grieving, I guess”, I enlightened her.

“I'll text Hiba then”, she proposed.

I only hoped that it would all work out.

--------------------------

Next Chapter

So what do you think?

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[possessionisamyth]

went through ur resident evil tags, saw everything and felt for the fandom part big time

what was ur experience with it like? what could u possibly NOT like about it? pour ur heart out 🙏

Every old fandom that blows up suddenly with newcomers age ranged between preteens to young 20 somethings is going to be insufferable. You get the "fandom veterans" who've been in it since the first game dropped being "well actually" about every damn thing AND the newer fans deciding to change how the narrative functions to fit into what's currently popular and modern. It's why a lot of the infighting is occurring.

I'm a newer fan, but I am older than most of the fans that have recently gotten into RE these last few years so I'm in this weird spot. I've already stated in past posts I don't give a fuck what the directors or voice actors intended to do with the characters because if the game or movie doesn't show it, then they failed in executing their goals. Leon's VA can say whatever he wants about his Cleon intentions, but since their dialogue nor the execution of it didn't ring as romantic then guess what! It's not romantic! He just has a ship preference! The directors said Death Island was supposed to be Jill's comeback, but guess who gets most of the lines? Leon! Some comeback right? Guess who FAILED in executing their intentions so it doesn't count as canon. Those guys!

I also don't care about what information is found in old game faq magazines from the early 2000s that "prove" one backstory or another. Is it interesting to now how the fandom behaved when certain games and movies dropped and their responses to it? Yes! Is it cool to look at interviews from past VA's, face claims, mocap actors, directors, and writers to understand their inspiration when it comes to creating those stories? Absolutely! Is it fun to have this knowledge because you like the media and there's a lot of fan made stuff to sift through already? Of course! Are you an asshole when you start lauding any of this information as canon without being able to point out exactly where it happens in the game I'm playing or movie I'm watching?

Yes.

Yes, you're an asshole.

I've fumbled with my own takes and interpretations. Nobody's perfect. I get information wrong sometimes and end up doubling down when I should step away. We've all done it. Sometimes the block button hits you before you can apologize, and you just gotta live with it. I interpret things differently in and out of the moment. Everyone does. Why else would there be a whole subset of people who market Piers as this really important character for shipping reasons but then decide to magically absolve him of the very real and dangerous power he had over an amnesiac Chris in RE6? Why else would there be a lack of people giving Ethan the same smoke they give Mia for not viewing Eveline as a child but a thing that needed to be killed? Why else would there be people who treat Leon like a poorly written woman character by giving him a pussy and making him a crybaby bottom who needs to be babysat and comforted and gets pregnant by Chris or Krauser, but there's also strange lack of any trans woman narratives for him despite many artists or authors being trans themselves? Different interpretations is why! :) (Side note: I love trans man Leon narratives. Most of you do not write him the way he is once you've given him a pussy tho.)

I haven't left the fandom. Like with all of my media interests, after the initial boom where it consumes me is gone, I just go to my little corner and make things I like with the hope I run into a few people who also like it. I'm still in the tags looking for news updates, finding art that I like, and skimming past other people's perspectives on the story. I'm also going to the biohazard event in USJ either this month or next month.

I don't know if you wanted a vent post with like a numbered list of issues I have with the fandom. Since you've read through my RE stuff, you've probably seen me touch on all my issues with fanon in passing at least once or twice. If you're looking for something more specific, you'll have to clarify tho. Thanks for the message!

[applepies-and-starlight]

Hi hi it's 1am here and the thoughts are Not Great so scroll past if you don't want to see the pettiest vent in your life 'k thanks ♡

So you know that post about me being scared about sharing my work if it isn't the popular opinion or anything generally commonly appealing? Yeah so as I was typing out the tags my brain threw a core memory at my face and went "you absolutely know why"

Anywau basically like, i was an undertale fan during the undertale renissance (is that how you spell it?) And i was fucking OBSESSED over glitchtale (until early season 2 + before camila was outed to be a shitbag) and thought glithtale was very very cool

Ankther thing is that i was a chronic deviantart scroller at the tjme (also on google images) and i love lovr loooooved looking at people's art

So i was like "hey i could do that too!" And started making fanart for glitchtale, specifically that final battle part where they're in The Orb™ in s1

I was doing it in school because at this point everyone was basically just hanging out (my elementary's system was 1st grade to 6th grade (i was... 5th grade iirc) And also had this weird systen where the younger half of elementary would go home 2 hours earlier than the older half (1pm), idk why) and like, because there was literally just 4 people here because small school, i showed my wip to the other 3 people present in the area

They made fun of it

Yeag,,

They made fun of. Basically Everything.

The thing that primarily stuck with me was how they teased about frisk's posing and the overall edginess of the piece, but mostly how frisk looked stypid (which, 1. Y'all play fnaf and brag that you're cool though kids you don't have room to talk; 2. It was The Orb™ fight,,, of course it was gonna be edgy,,,,)

It's somewhere in a landfill now, i threw it in the trash and never fished it out... probably decomposed by now, it's been 8 years (holy shit it's been 8 years)

I... think they apologized? Idk i just know they had a "wait shit no-" moment when i threw it in the trash but i was already mad about it so, yeag

Like... i like to say that it doesn't affect me that badly anymore but i'm pretty sure it still is? I literally can't look at my art anymore without thinking of how bad it looks compared to everyone else's and i also am physically unable to Not agree with others (i literally forced myself to hate homura akemi pmmm because a friend didn't see the nuance in her character and just relegated her to "bitch" lmao) and Good Lird i have crippling perfectionism because if 1 person hates it then everyone does right??? Lmao

Deadass nowadays i just can't bring myself to make or share any ideas or pick up anything creative because i HAVE to get it perfect in 1 go otherwise i'll be ridiculed for it; I'm Trying to outgrow these problems but it's jist So Dicking Hard akfjshdjdhr and it seriously doesn't help tjat there was a seperare (smaller) incident where i found one of my drawings crumpled on the floor by someone

Man i'm kinda fucked up am i?

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Vent. Sorta. Please don’t read based on the tags if you’re not in the right headspace to receive it.

I am over the shit involving NR. It’s spreading like wildfire, only gaining momentum, infecting spaces that were once positive areas to find safety, and I’m tired.

And maybe I was wrong in wishing to silence it. Maybe I’m biased because of the admiration I have for the man. I try to see the good in him on such a personal level that I’m willing to overlook the bad. It’s not something I’ve been innocent of in the past in my personal life.

Even though no one has expressed such, I feel like I’ve added negatively to the situation rather than anything positive. Maybe one day I’ll learn my lesson and just keep all opinions to myself unless I am 100% certain I can articulate in a beneficial way.

Regardless, this is bigger than me.

I have the last Whumptober prompt queued to post automatically on the 28th. Other than that, I will be attempting a break. I have no idea for how long. It could just be a day. It could be a month. If it goes into November, I apologize and will do what I can at that point to handle the requests I took on.

It’s my hope to return with the ability to write for myself and my readers and leave everything else out of it. Fanfiction only. I at least made a step toward that last time by removing my reviews of TWD:DD.

Once again, I find myself needing to say that I am sorry if I offended anyone or gave anyone the idea that I didn’t care about their opinion or that their feelings aren’t valid.