#she’s flooding the content creators with (real) (actual) content

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[misaerabl]

MUTED 𝝑𝑒 - masterlist

✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ gamer&commentary creator!e x influencer!u (enemies to lovers) SUMMARY : wc... ? ˙⋆✮˙ A lifestyle creator with a flawless feed. A reaction channel with a talent for starting drama. Your world is all soft lighting and subtle shade—Ellie Williams is loud edits, louder opinions, and a fanbase that lives for her chaos. You and Ellie were never supposed to cross paths. But one reaction stream, one too-perfect subtweet, and the internet writes its own narrative: a rivalry they can’t get enough of. You’re curated. She’s unfiltered. You go viral for routines. She goes viral for ruining them. It should’ve ended online—but now you’re stuck sharing a cabin, sharing space, sharing tension that won’t stay hidden behind screens. Ellie is frustrating. Fame is relentless. And somewhere between stolen glances and snarky remarks, the line between content and connection starts to blur. Because when everything is made to be watched, the most dangerous thing you can do is feel.

˙⋆✮ READ THE REST ON AO3!

PROLOGUE -- "not sorry"

ellie.exe is live...

The screen is dimly lit in cool purples and flickering LED strips. A soft lo-fi playlist hums beneath the click-clack of keys and the occasional irritated—

“Dude, seriously?”

Ellie, tucked into a hoodie and headset, squints at her monitor, brows furrowed in the way that makes her fans screenshot the stream and tweet things like “she’s so baby when she’s mad”.

She's midway through a stream of some hyper-buggy online multiplayer game her chat begged her to play. She’s not good at it. She’s not pretending to be good at it.

Which is, naturally, why thousands are watching.

“Okay, there is no way that hit me. Roll back the tape. That’s cheating. That’s hacking, actually. I’m reporting him.”

The chat explodes:

lmaoo classic ellie L NOOB.exe pls check out @/reader’s new vid tho omg 😭 she’d beat this game faster than u lmao grwm girl supremacy!!!

Ellie groans, tossing her controller onto her lap and reaching for the watered-down iced coffee she’s been sipping since the stream started. The condensation leaves a faint ring on her desk.

“Okay, okay—pause. I need hydration and emotional support.”

Sip. Grimace. Another sip.

“Wait, who are you all yelling about?”

The chat floods with one name: your username, a wave of heart emojis, thirst comments, and “SHIP??” spam.

“Reader?” Ellie squints at the screen. “The GRWM chick? Seriously?”

A few more keystrokes, a few clicks.

“Okay, I mean… sure. Gotta give the fans what they want.”

The game feed shrinks into the corner. A new window opens on her overlay—your latest video.

GRWM: Night Out Routine (Even If You Cancel Last Minute) 💄🍷

The video fades in. You’re cross-legged on your bed, silky robe slung off one shoulder, hair twisted up with a claw clip, all soft lighting and softer skin. You’re smiling at the camera, walking through a lineup of glassy skincare bottles like it’s second nature.

Ellie leans forward slightly. Just a bit.

“She’s giving Vogue cover, but also… does she even sweat?”

Chat starts twitching:

UR EYES R TOO WIDE STAND UP she plugs her sephora code every 3 minutes she’s got you in a chokehold already babe 😭

“Like, does her skincare budget exceed my rent?”

She pauses—lets the silence sit there a second.

“I’m not judging—I’m just confused. Does she live at Sephora?”

The chat absolutely loses it.

no bc the tension already you’re just in love just say it someone ship name this rn you guys are delusional. ellie hates people like her

Ellie lifts her hands in mock surrender.

“Chat, I’m not a hater—I’m just a broke, bitter lesbian. Calm down.”

She smirks. Just a little. The kind that makes her left cheek dimple slightly, which only makes her chat explode even more.

nah she’s BLUSHING for real

She minimizes the window. Boots her game back up.

“Anyway. I’m going back to getting absolutely smoked in this trash server. Thanks for the detour, creeps.”

But it’s already too late.

The screen recordings are circulating. TikToks are multiplying like bacteria in petri dishes. The fan edits are being born—dramatic music, soft fades, your skincare and her flustered commentary spliced together.

Meanwhile, on your end. Your phone buzzes with a flurry of DMs. Some from fans. Some from mutuals. All of them saying the same thing:

“girl... ellie.exe just reviewed your grwm and i’m SOBBING” “you gonna let her talk to you like that or...?” “you got her blushing on camera 😭”

You scroll. You find the clip. You raise a brow.

Fuck this girl. Fuck her.

You stare at your screen for a bit before hitting post on the tweet.

you @/yourhandle ✨ skincare hits different when your lighting source isn’t a 3am Twitch stream 😘

Your mentions explode. The war has begun.

You swipe through your mentions, catching glimpses of your own face edited onto Mortal Kombat fighters, people tagging Ellie and begging her to respond. You tell yourself you’re over it. That you’ve said what you needed to say. That she doesn’t matter.

And then someone DMs you again.

“uhhhh did you see her tweet 💀”

You open Twitter.

ellie @/ellie.exe some ppl act brand new just because the sun hits them once and they didn’t burst into flames. proud of you 😇

You blink. Read it again. Your jaw actually drops.

That smug, passive-aggressive, “not-a-reply-but-yes-it-is” tone practically has her signature all over it. She didn’t tag you. She didn’t have to. It’s as good as a shot fired.

Like she didn’t start this by coming for your routine with her crusty gamer hands and talking about you like you were a mall display instead of a person?

Oh, hell no.

You set your phone down. Pick it back up. Type. Delete. Type again. Your jaw clenches as you pace your room, bare feet dragging across a fluffy rug as the late afternoon sun pours across your floor—the same one she saw in your video. The one she smirked at like it offended her personally.

You finally hit post.

you @/yourhandle ✨ no hate to the gamers but if your selfcare knowledge is based on your reflection in a loading screen… maybe hush 😘

You don’t even wait to see the fallout this time. You toss your phone onto your bed like it burned you and go to pour yourself something strong and unnecessary.

By the time you come back, Twitter’s already turned your quote tweet into a meme. Your face on a skincare ad. Ellie’s on a GameStop receipt. Someone edited a fake YouTube thumbnail:

“GRWM to fight a gamer lesbian (gone wrong) (emotional)”

You try to laugh, but it comes out tight.

Your blood is hot. Not quite angry, not quite amused. It’s something in between. Something irritating and unfamiliar. Something that smells like obsession.

comments: “they’re gonna make out or kill each other, no in between.” “this is the weirdest foreplay i’ve ever witnessed and i’m here for it” “ellie.exe called her sensitive and now she’s dismantling her entire existence 💅”

You actually exhale a disbelieving, “Oh my God,” into your empty room.

She’s insufferable. Infuriating. Smug. And you hate—hate—the way her face lingered in your head after watching her watch you.

You were supposed to win this. You were supposed to make her shut up. So You make her... By Clicking the block button.

KEEP UP! KEEP UP!

prologue... (you are here!) - "blocked. not sorry" part 1. - "fuck the algorithm" part 2. - "room for conflict" part 3. - "for the record" part 4. - "under your skin" part 5. - "pull focus" part 6. - "bad timing" part 7. - ??? + more!!! (next parts will be posted daily! see you tomorrow!, please comment to be added to the taglist!)

[insomniac4000]

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

 "We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

[ginnyruin]

i'm sorry but the nurchie "art" is clearly AI generated??? can we please stop sharing and praising shit that some algorithm spat out without ever asking the original creators whose work it steals and regurgitates for their permission

- sincerely, a pissed-off artist

Hello,

I’m going to set the record straight, and I’d suggest you read carefully before making any more baseless accusations. Nurchie is an actual artist—a trained one, with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in digital art and two-dimensional studies (drawing and painting) from a prestigious university. She has 16 years of professional design/digital art experience, and a publicly documented portfolio going back well before AI art even existed.

go look at her earliest work on Deviantart and you'll see how precisely detailed she draws hands, fingers, and clothing. Everything, really.

If you had bothered to do any homework, you’d see that her work reflects thousands of hours of dedicated practice and the expertise of a seasoned digital artist.

Calling her work AI generated is BEYOND insulting. it’s lazy, dismissive, and downright disrespectful to a person who has spent years honing her craft.

She doesn’t ask for clout, she doesn’t do commissions, she doesn't have a patreon or Kofi. She only made a Twitter years ago because I asked her to share her talent with the world or she wouldn't even bother.

This tendency to label any polished work as “AI” just shows ignorance, plain and simple. Real artists deserve better than to have their skills lumped in with AI machine-generated content by people who can’t tell the difference.

Each of her digital paintings takes anywhere from 30-80+ hours. For Altered State specifically, she's been working on all these art pieces for months while I've been on a posting hiatus. Her incredible work keeps me inspired; I would have literally quit ages ago. We go back and forth on details from the writing in the fic and I see these changes she makes in real time.

She paints in her limited free time for these niche fandoms because she loves the stories and wants to support the writers in it. In a world where fandom is becoming increasingly commodified, she is a rare gem.

I didn't even want to bother Nurchie with this silly comment of yours, but she's such a good sport she just laughed at the idea that anyone could accuse her art of being AI generated. She uses a combo of adobe CC suite and clip studio to draw.

nurchie messaged me this, and I asked for her permission to share it: [I just think they are probably some struggling artist, upset that they feel replaced by soulless AI and are lashing out any time they think they see it. I'm sympathetic to their feelings, and understand the annoyance. I've been battling the improper usage of it in my workplace. AI is not AI but just a data collection tool, and I completely agree that the human eye could never be replaced by it.]

yeah, she's the most chill, sweetest person ever, too. So maybe think twice before throwing around accusations you clearly can’t back up. You're trying to hurt a real artist.

-sincerely,

A writer who knows a real artist

https://www.deviantart.com/nurchie/gallery

edit: also accusations like this drive away real fanartists. Why should they bother sharing their work if their talent and skill are being dismissed as some algorithm's output? it's toxic. fandom spaces will be flooded with AI-generated content in the future because all the true artists will have left.

[separatist-apologist]

what are your thoughts on this booktok drama https://www.reddit.com/r/RomanceBooks/comments/1i1i05p/your_thoughts_on_kallmekris_booktok_drama/ a lot of people were offended by the video (it was removed from this person's youtube channel, but internet is forever and someone uploaded the 37min video on tiktok). i get why people were upset, especially since this creator used clips of people without asking for permission and i think the OG title was T'hese Viral TikTok Smut Books Are Really Gross' which pissed off a lot of people. i just don't know if people are being overly sensitive or not to the content of the video.

yeah she makes fun of some of these popular booktok books, but people do that all the time. trash gets published so much in the guise of spicy romances so i'm not quite sure if people are conflating this creator talking shit about the books with her talking shit about them or maybe i missed something and she actually did talk shit about them. i know you have hatersbookclub (which i love, i find your commentary super funny) so i was wondering if you had a take on this drama since it's been blowing up all over tiktok and now reddit.

Okay I'm gonna be real and upfront- I'm not gonna watch the video because I don't want to be pushed anymore booktok content. However I do have general thoughts about the culture, which I am, once again, putting under the cut. blah blah blah read at your own discretion

Obligatory not all of booktok.

Without watching the video (so I lack context), one of the things I find wildly frustrating about booktok is the performative outrage. The CONSTANT performative outrage about EVERYTHING. Maybe the video was offensive but I'm betting it was a mild, but mostly fair, criticism of the culture over there and they are allergic to any nuance, and take even constructive criticism as a personal attack.

The anti-intellectualism floating around the space is deeply frustrating. "I just read for the vibes" "its a brain off read for me" "its not that deep" "let people like things" "no one ever says men are consuming too much porn" ""good" is subjective" alongside the weaponization of like, feminism and other progressive language to silence ANY critique is exhausting.

No one is saying you shouldn't be allowed to brain off read 700 books written in an hour that aren't edited and actively uphold the very patriarchal, white supremacist culture you swear you want to dismantle (only when it's time to cancel someone, though, and never when its time to do the uncomfortable internal work that forces you to ask why you only consume books in which women are referred to as "females" and are subservient to men in overtly domineering roles, though).

What people are often saying is that its frustrating the way these POORLY written (not subjective- thats an objective, measurable standard), copy cat books are peddled and often shielded from criticism under the guise of "feminism means you can never criticize anything women enjoy ever" or how if you're offering up book recs, a deluge of "Is there spice" floods the comments. Books are being marketed on fanfiction tropes rather than a PLOT, of which there very often is very little to none of.

I've seen people GENTLY try and discuss, like, the lack of media literacy and booktok is always there arguing why any reading is good reading, wholly ignoring that, often by their own admission, they ARENT reading (brain off reading means....what? You didn't absorb any of it? I don't even know what that means and I honestly don't want to), or that its good for your brain to actually pay attention to what you're reading and then THINK about it. Even your dark romance trash is saying SOMETHING.

Booktok is addicted to their own victimization.

[jtks-gh05t-g1rl]

୨⎯ "Trading 'I love you's" ⎯୧ Leviathan x fem!reader

word count: 1k

(I found this pic on Pinterest and just covered the name. Not proof read!!)

(adding my headcanons)

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Leviathan had always been insecure, this feeling was nothing new to him. He had always seen himself as less than, especially compared to his brothers. His brothers were so accomplished, so respected, looked up to. They had all built up a reputation and a life despite being hated and discriminated against when they had first fallen. Lucifer had created a reputation of being a loyal friend of Lord Diavolo. Mammon was friendly, extroverted, and fun to be around. Asmodeus was beautiful and kind to everyone around him.

When you first came to the Devildom he didn't like you. He didn't know you. He was rude and an asshole to you and he had always regretted it. Even though he acted like that he thought you were beautiful and didn't know how to approach you. He tried acting like Mammon because he saw how well you got along. That failed. It took, what felt like, years to reach friend status with you. When Asmo finally convinced him to confess to you, he felt like he had ruined it all. But when you said you liked him back his entire body froze. He was flooded by a feeling of relief and glee. Those five words had changed him, "I like you too , Leviathan.". The way you said his name made him feel like he was living a dream.

You made him feel more confident. You made him feel like he was worth something. Being with you made him feel like he could be the best version of himself. That's why he loves you. Although he felt all these great emotions , he still felt the overwhelming insecurities.

fast forward a couple of months. You and Levi are in his room, laying on his bed, your limbs are tangled with one another. You're both aimlessly scrolling on your phones.

Leviathans P.O.V.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

I had the love of my life laying in my arms and yet this one comment still bugged me.

"LMAOOO HOW DID LEVI PULL HER???? no hate but bro cmon now."

I started at my screen for a minute. Hate comments aren't uncommon, they're even expected but they still effect me.

I look down at the girl, then back to my phone. I sigh and shut my phone off.

"Did I say that I love you today?" The girl asked. I looked down at her smiling.

"Yes, many times, baby."

"Okay, just checking." she said going back to her phone. I want to talk to her about what I saw, she would know what to say but I don't want to bother her. I try to gather the courage to say something to start a conversation like that but all that comes out is a loud groan.

"You okay?" She asked, her words had a heavily concerned tone.

"Hmm, yeah, I'll be fine."

"No pressure but you know we can talk if you want to."

"I know but- I don't know.." I had a sudden change of mind.

"Actually, I do want to talk."

" Go for it."

" I know hate comments are, like, apart of being a content creator but, even though they're expected, it still bothers me. Sometimes people make me feel unworthy of being with you. People are always talking about how they don't know why you chose me when you could've had anyone of my brothers."

"I chose you because I love you, Levi. Those people don't know you, I do. I do know you and I know how great you are."

"I know, I know but sometimes I still feel like your with me because you feel bad or something, like being with you feels so dream like, it almost doesn't feel real."

"Leviathan, I love you so much, you don't understand how much I love you. Your so amazing. I love so many things about you. I love how passionate you are and get about the things you love, the way you can go on and on about all your interests is so lovable. I love how you stay loyal to your faves. The way you get so excited to play a new game, the way I'm the first person you ask to play with you. I love watching you play your games and seeing how focused you are. I love everything about you. and you're beauty speaks for itself, I don't even have to mention it, but I will. I love the color of your everything. Your eyes are absolutely breathtaking, its like looking into a pool of gold. Your hair is so soft and the color is so gorgeous and they way it falls is so pretty."

"Fuck, I wanna marry you." The second the last word left my mouth, my lips were already on hers. She giggled into the kiss, making me smile harder then I have ever before. The next few minutes are filled with quick but love filled kisses and giggling.

I pull away from her. " Can I tell you something?" She nods. "You make me feel like I'm something. You make me confident, you make me want to be a better person."

"it's not the way you act on camera or in public that makes me feel like this, it's you. You make me feel like this. Don't get me wrong I love all of you but my favorite is when you let yourself be yourself." I let out a small laugh." I don't think I'll ever understand why you keep someone like me around. I mean you're just so amazing and you don't know how grateful I am that you entered my life. I said it before and I'll say it again, being with makes me feel like I'm dreaming, and if I am then I never want to wake up."

"but it isn't, right? You're actually mine, right?"

" yes, baby, I'm all yours." She said with a giggle that sounded like music to my ears.

"I love you so, Leviathan."

"You make me so happy, I could explode."

"I love you too, MC."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

hihi!! idk how I feel abt this one >-< lmk if you see any typos plzzzzzz!! also how would we feel about gender neutral stories, I'm more comfortable writing for fem reader but I'm down to try writing for gn!!

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

i finally decided to get off instagram (for the most part, still working on it) and twitter and last night i realized i didn't need to go on either after the grammys and it was SO freeing! highly suggest it to anyone still on twitter/instagram! i have just been focusing on how exciting the grammys are and taylor looked like she was having so much fun :D

this is just it.

I won't deny that I occasionally get the impulse to re-download Twitter because it used to be the easiest way to keep up with current events like the news, so when we're in a time of tumult, it was a good aggregate of reporting sources. But that has gone downhill since it was bought out, and it's certainly been a dumpster fire since the election. I had made the mistake of re-downloading it after the inauguration to kind of keep up with what was going on (and dipped my toes in the Swiftie waters again) but I finally deleted it again last week because it's just so, so bad. The algorithm is designed to enrage and it's designed to make you addicted and react to everything. Every single thing because an Issue but it's a tempest in a teapot.

(And candidly I think the revelations in a certain legal complaint about how social media is deliberately manipulated to flood feeds with certain opinions to cause harm should be eye-opening to everyone if it hadn't already been about how these platforms use your eyeballs to do their dirty work and recognize when it's happening.)

No discourse on twitter ever actually makes it to real life, and everything is replaced by a new scandal in 24 hours. Like I've said before, if online discourse had any measurable impact on real life, there would have been a much different election result. So I think folks need to take that same principle and apply it to their fandom stanning as well. Any perceived issue that arises against their fave (whether it's Taylor or Beyonce or whoever) never really matters, so why bother arguing with strangers on the internet? Just focus on what you love. Now, obviously there are some things that breach containment and become Real Issues, but... there are also people whose jobs it is to deal with those.

I had to back off Instagram in the last year because it was making me feel like shit -- I know Instagram isn't real life, but seeing my friends and acquaintances' lives (or even creators) while I'm feeling increasingly stuck in mine was making me feel even worse about myself than usual. And it sucks because as someone who loves content creation and photography it was such a fun way to be inspired and see creative work, just like it was a great way to keep up with what my friends are up to. And now that Meta has said the quiet part out loud and proudly, I'm not interested in giving its platform more of my time than needed. (I still occasionally use it, but I can't scroll like I used to.)

If you're into social media for fandom stuff, honestly, I can't implore people enough to consider eliminating or at least reducing the use of places like Twitter or TikTok in particular. They're preying on your attention and it's only going to get worse from now on. Stop worrying about what other fans or even antis are saying, and just focus on what you actually *like*. It's as simple as that.

Anyway that's a long-winded way of saying I'm so happy you enjoyed last night!!! May we all find such pockets of joy in these extremely bleak times!

[rosetheocto]

🐙 Super Cool Intro Post 🐙

Hello!! You can call me Rose! I’m a giant nerd over a lot of things that only like 10 people know about! I’m also a self taught artist who’s trying her best! :D

Dunno where exactly on the Aro/Ace spectrum I’m at, but it’s definitely somewhere! I’m thinking Quoiromantic Bellussexual, but idk lmao

She/Her, I’m a Minor!

I have Autism, ADHD, OCD, some flavors of Anxiety/Depression, with a bit of other mental health issues mixed in! I’m also a Singlet who’s A Bit Slow & Stupid. I’m a HUUUUGE yapper too, so be prepared for that >:]

Feel free to send me asks about anything!! I’m more than happy to have an excuse to yell about whatever, especially stuff relating to interests!!

‼️ Please immediately tell me when I do something wrong!! I have good intentions, but I’m also not the smartest person out there! I tend to be unaware and forgetful at times, so I may not realize right away when I say/do/support something really stupid!! ‼️

A Bunch Of Other Things Under The Cut! :0

(Last edited June 28th, 2025)

Some Stuff I Like/The Main Fandoms!!

Failboat (More specifically, the obscure Failboat Lore that’s spanned across his channel(s)! I’m ESPECIALLY obsessed with the Miitopia/Mii Making parts! This in particular has been a special interest of mine for years and… I think it shows lmaoo. also I think I might be Chi’s biggest fan!! >w<)

Eeveelution Squad (I’m mainly talking about the webcomic by EV-Zero, but I also really like Pokémon!! Specifically/exclusively Gen 6/Kalos, love those lil dudes)

Among Us + Among Us Logic (I don’t really support GameToons/NewScapePro nowadays, but AUL always has a special place in my heart)

Those Are The Main Ones, But I Have A Handful Of Other Smaller Interests Too! (Splatoon, The Henry Stickmin Collection, My Little Pony, Spooky Month, Nintendo Fun House (kinda), Minecraft: Story Mode, Mario, Steven Universe, etc!)

Obligatory DNI List!!

Basic Criteria (Homophobic, transphobic, aphobic, ableist, racist, MAP/pedo, antisemitic/islamophobic/anything similar, pretty much just “don’t talk to me if you suck”)

Supporting Any Kind Of Genocide (This should be obvious. we know what this is about, not gonna get too political but we can all agree stuff like that is very messed up right?)

Support Ships With Pedophilia, Incest, And Other Things Of That Nature. (I just simply don’t like that kind of content, and i do think it can affect reality.)

NSFW Accounts (I am currently a minor, self explanatory)

NFT + Generative AI Supporters (Generative AI specifically takes away from actual creators. While this kind of thing could maybe be used for good someday, as of right now I just don’t like it at all)

Treating Real People Like Fictional Characters (Giving real people “headcanons”, shipping real people, etc. especially when they have said in the past that they are uncomfortable with it. However, if there’s a clear distinction between a fictional version of a content creator, like C!Failboat vs Daniel The Actual Guy, then that’s perfectly ok!!)

Things To Take Note Of!!

I Use Tone Indicators/Show My Tone Through Text Often! And I’d Appreciate It If People Use Them With Me! (If that for some reason is something you don’t like then uh, idk do what you want lol)

I’m A Multishipper!! (I love putting characters together like they’re Barbie dolls. It’s one of my fav hobbies)

I Am Critical Of Media I Like! (I promise I genuinely love the stuff I criticize most of the time, but being a hater can be fun lmaoo)

I May Reblog Donation Asks/Political Things! (Mainly the second thing, but I’m not gonna flood my blog with it! that being said, expect a few to pop up every now and then!)

Projects I’m Involved With!!

Lia: Dimensional Rebirth (A Failboat fangame and story currently being made by CitraDreamPainter, the same person behind The Devious Plan Saga! This was originally going to be submitted for one of his Kirby Change/Mod Jams before turning into something bigger. Somehow, I’ve joined Citra’s development team for this as a Fact-Checker/Writer! A Fact-Checker for what exactly? You’ll find out once the game is finished! ;])

Among Us Logic: Rewritten (A rewrite of GameToons’ old Among Us animation series that is a collaboration between me and my friend Veem! Things I make for this AU are typically under the “Among Us Logic Rewrite” tag, and is commonly shortened to AULR!!)

Chip-Related Shenanigans (Chiptopia was a Miitopia AU of the Chip Cinematic Universe, a (now discontinued) thing that old fans of ChipDoesThis impulsively decided to do since we all loved the YouTuber and the game. Note that due to the size of this collab, and how outdated it all is, that not everything in here is gonna reflect me as a person! It’s full of inside jokes, audio problems, improvised lore, tons of chaos, and is VERY very far from perfect. if you really wanna give it a watch, you can find the playlist for it here.)

My Stinky Socials!!

Reddit

ArtFight/Art Fight

YouTube (I don’t really post anything but still lmao)

If you decide to stick around this blog, I hope you have a good time here!! :]

[emi-writings]

what are some tropes that make your brain and flood fizz away.

(I’ve noticed almost all writers have at least one.

I don't know if you mean that in a good way, or bad way... so I'll answer for both!

I’ll start off with some of my favorite tropes, and then end with some of my least favorite tropes. And yes, these are all about tntduo fanfics, but they so apply to other things I enjoy.

Loved Tropes

First Kiss – If you’re writing a fanfic that doesn’t have the characters in an established relationship at the beginning… you cannot gloss over the first kiss. If the couple’s first kiss isn’t a moment, you’re doing it wrong. It doesn’t have to be a big, grandiose kiss scene… but it’s gotta at least be a little special.

Slow Burn – Surprise, surprise, I actually really like it when characters take the time to get to know each other and really bond before becoming lovers. I like seeing the moments where characters go from realizing that they actually like the other, to realizing that they’re in love.

Flirting Under Fire – I haven’t had a chance to use this trope (yet) but a battle couple that can flirt during a fight is always a plus! So long as it works for the tone of the scene, of course.

Forbidden Love – This one also is not a surprise at all, but I love Forbidden Love! It’s a great way to add conflict without needing any tropes that make me dislike the romance! It’s not the main leads that are being annoying, it’s whatever is trying to stop them from getting together! This is especially great when one half of the couple helps the other realize there is something wrong with the system and helping them escape it.

Hated Tropes

Will They, Won’t They – I just hate the on again, off again nature of this trope. First, they’re enemies, then they’re friends, then they can’t be together, but now they’re together, then something causes them to split apart, and then they’re together again, etc. It just gets real old, real fast. Especially when the cause of any split ups are because of any… miscommunication.

Miscommunication – Depending on how this one is used, I can have a lot of different feelings about it. But in romance, sometimes it can just very, very quickly get annoying. Especially if it feels contrived. And if it takes a while for it to get cleared up even when it easily could have… yeah, I’m not finishing that fic, I do not care how good it was or how good it will get.

High School aus/College aus/etc. – Technically this counts if you consider that an au is just a bunch of tropes in a trench coat. But I am so, so, so sick of seeing how popular school-based aus are. I don’t care, I won’t read it, I’m sorry. They’re never that interesting. Maybe, maybe if something else is thrown in the mix I’ll consider it (and actually enjoy it sometimes) but I just can’t be bothered otherwise.

The Needlessly Villainizing the Women Trope – I don’t know the name of this trope, but it’s where they is a female character that gets bashed and hated on simply because she could be a threat to the relationship. This doesn’t happen too often in tntduo fanfics, but I have received one comment on my fanfic hating on Sally… who is a lesbian in that fanfic, and someone Wilbur only says nice things about, despite them being betrothed since they were young. So yeah, it does happen. Considering the way the mcyt fandom treats female content creators and their characters… it’s not fun…

[lotus-flower-writes-history]

Here's further context.

I've been working on her for five years now, she was my first real project. Something that wasn't Fanfiction. In the beginning, it didn't feel like it wasn't original, it felt like I was just copying and pasting notes. That's when I put in more effort into different writing styles to breathe life into these important stories. I poured so much into myself into finding that voice, into making this book (then turned blog) into something meaningful. After the first three years of dedicated work, it felt like timing and life itself played a cruel hand. There's a unique kind of sadness that comes with pouring your heart and soul into something and feeling like it goes unnoticed, especially when you see other Creators with the same content, finding their audience and thriving, seeing their efforts blossoming, it's not about hate or envy, but about a raw feeling, like a little fish in a vast ocean, my small ripples barely making a mark. Although it felt like my voice felt like a whisper in a vast chorus, I kept going and eventually I'll find my audience.

The journey of an independent creator can be draining and sometimes isolated, there were setbacks and defeats and along the way, which I took with stride. But, shamefully to say, when my green-eyed monster truly took hold, came in my third year when seeing a published book...a book that echoed what I've been building for years. But a bigger part of me had a bittersweet happiness because the idea wasn't too out of reach. But at the time, the selfish side of me and also the writer side saw the comparison of what I lacked; the resources, the funding, and the amount of support to bring the vision to life. A vast difference between my notebook, Google, and passion. But I kept going because I shouldn't compare myself to others.

I kept going, and I pushed harder to make something out of all the hard work I put in. But as time went on, it just started to feel like no one actually cared, like really cared. I understand that not everyone is going to read my writing, no one is obligated to read my work if they want to. Not everyone is going to be interested and that's fine.

But, what I'm saying is, what us as Creators truly craves usnt just fleeting validation, it's easy to tap a heart, to drop a quick emotion, to say 'I'll check it out' without ever truly engaging with words, the research, the time and effort poured into each post/chapter, it leaves a creator feeling hollow. While appreciated on a surface level, after a while it felt like a polite dismissal rather than true engagement.

Even though I write, I often wonder if I'll ever truly feel like a real writer. I was once again struggling with the feeling that I wasn't good enough to qualify as a real writer.

And then as I expanded to other platforms, hoping to reach a wider audience and even start a small community, the audience shifted and not in a good way. The comments section became battlegrounds, flooded with racial hate,with bigots spewing accusations of spreading hate speech, of fabricating information, and even posting outright lies...about Black History...it became a disheartening and exhausting experience, and it became a constant battle against ignorance and malice.

There was a constant battle within me; I told myself that with consistent effort, if I kept writing, kept sharing as if there's a vibrant community eagerly awaiting each post, eventually become something even if it's small. But the emotional exhaustion of pouring so much energy into something that it felt like a single glass in a vast ocean.

Looking back at this five year journey, filled with both immense passion and profound disappointment, brings a bittersweet ache and it leads be to this inevitable conclusion. With a heavy heart, it's time to say goodbye to The Unofficial Black History Book. While this chapter closes with sadness, I hold onto a fragile hope that it might eventually pave the way for a fresh start where the outcome might be different ❤️‍🩹

[sweetclothes2024]

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[gothfoxgirlboy]

I'm gonna expand on this because like it's a major issue.

This will probably be pretty long so

The porn industry is made for white men. No matter what you try to do the industry that makes pornography is generally racist and sexist and transphobic and all that fun stuff.

Part of why I constantly worry about stuff like diversity in my stories is because if you really want to find stuff that doesn't make you feel gross you need to go to independent sex workers.

Everyone talks about how damaging porn is and honestly I feel like if you only use mainstream porn you'd be correct. Porn is an incredibly gentrified industry and like with everything we need diversity. Not more categories not more porn made for the white male gaze we need true diversity.

If you want the most obvious showing of this look up femdom porn and try to find something where it's clear that the woman is actually in charge she enjoys what she's doing and isn't just acting as a kink dispenser for a man. Or more blatantly look up something like cuckolding and see how often they mention race or use stereotypical names like Tyrone.

Sex workers with disabilities being visible, POC sex workers, older sex workers should all just show up in regular porn and shouldn't be relegated to their own categories. Eventually trans people should show up in regular porn searches too because these aren't categories we're all just human

Reddit is an especially bad place for this because but also and incredible place to start the change. People need to oust racist, sexist and transphobic content creators but all the biggest subreddits are so flooded with them you need to restart.

And I think this is why I adore seeing Transgirls with "weird" kinks. It's nice seeing bullying content that isn't about how "Tyrese bullies me because he's black and he fucked my girlfriend with his BBC". It's nice to see feminization content that isn't "you're a female now so you're less than a man and since you're not a real female you're less than a real woman". It's nice to see cuckolding content that talks about gay men that isn't "you're straight but I make you suck cock when I cuck you because it's humiliating to be gay".

And here's where I'm going to be honest and controversial. It's ok if you're into that stuff. But just remember it's taboo. Liking something controversial or morally wrong doesn't make you a bad person as long as you understand the boundary between reality and fiction. Liking to feel like you're unchangeably inferior to someone or a group of people because you find the idea sexy is fine as long as you understand that once the scene is over you are equals. The opposite is true too.

Just make sure you are aware of the prejudices in the porn you consume and support independent sex workers to create a much healthier environment for pornography.

God I'm in a mood™ RN. And I'm so fucking annoyed that whenever I try to find cuckold stuff it's all racist or sissy shit. Like seriously can people start making communities for this stuff that isn't dogshit

[storiesforallfandoms]

permanently ~ corpse husband

word count: 1456

request?: yes!

“Corpse husband x female reader. The reader is corpse wife but they keep there really private only a few people know that corpse is married, one day people start asking corpse if he is seeing someone and corpse doesn’t know if he wants to reveal he’s married because he worried she will get hate so he talks to the reader about it and his worries and the reader comforts him about his worries. Later corpse reveals in a video that hes married and everyone really happy and supportive of his marriage.”

description: in which he reveals a surprising secret to his fans after months of questions about his love life

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It started when his fans heard her speak during a stream.

Corpse had been careful to keep his love life a secret for so long. He loved his fans, but he knew that if he even gave the slightest indication that he was seeing someone, the more extreme of his fanbase would go looking for her. He didn’t want any hate messages sent her way, she didn’t deserve any of that.

They had been so careful. (Y/N) would stay away from Corpse’s streaming room while he was streaming, or she’d sit next to him and make zero noise. Luckily, (Y/N) wasn’t famous, so they were able to share pictures and videos on her private social media accounts.

She had slightly pushed open the door to his streaming room one night, trying her best to make as little noise as possible in case his mic was on. Corpse noticed her from the corner of his eyes and turned to look at her.

“Mic off?” she whispered. Corpse chuckled and nodded. “I sent you a text but you didn’t respond. I’m gonna go get something to eat, do you want anything picked up?”

“I’m good for now, thank you.”

(Y/N) smiled and crossed the room to give him a kiss before leaving again.

For the half hour she was gone, (Y/N) lived in ignorant bliss, unaware of the chaos happening online.

When she got home, she found her husband pacing the kitchen. Concern was written all over his face, and it deepened when (Y/N) walked through the front door.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“The mic wasn’t off,” he said.

(Y/N) knew what he meant immediately, but she still couldn’t help but ask, “What?”

“When you came in during my stream, I thought I had shut my mic off, but I didn’t. My viewers heard us talking, and they heard us kiss. The chat went wild and it’s trending on Twitter already; #corpsesmysterywoman.”

(Y/N) grabbed her phone and went into Twitter. It was the top trend and it was flooded with tweets that ran from shocked to supportive and happy to, of course, hateful.

“On the plus side,” she started, “they’ll never be able to identify me just by my voice.”

“Doesn’t mean they won’t try.”

(Y/N) sighed as she watched Corpse start to bite his fingers, something he did whenever his anxiety ran high. She felt bad for him. He shouldn’t have to worry about his fans having a negative reaction about their marriage, and he definitely shouldn’t feel like he was to blame if his fans found her, which she knew he would.

(Y/N) touched Corpse’s shoulder, causing him to stop and look up at her. She took his hands in hers, wiping away the blood he had drawn.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “We’ll get through this. Besides, I’m a big girl. I can handle this if anything happens.”

Corpse nodded. “I know, I just didn’t want you to be brought into this.”

“It was bound to happen eventually. Could’ve been worse.”

Corpse wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She hugged him back, dreading the next time he’d have to go online.

~~~~~~

A week passed and the buzz around Corpse’s “mystery woman” did not die down. The hashtag trended for two days, and his fans were still speculating on Twitter. Corpse took some time off social media in hopes it would all blow over, but it became evident very soon that it would not. Everyone was still tweeting him about it, and it even began to escalate to people would ask Corpse’s friends during their streams.

Enough was enough, and Corpse decided it was time to address the issue.

He announced he would be doing a Q&A stream on his Twitter. Within seconds, the stream was trending.

(Y/N) sat on the floor next to Corpse’s chair as he set his stream up. She could see he was shaking with anxiety over the situation. She put a hand on his leg, bringing his attention to her.

“It’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I promise.”

Corpse gave her the best smile he could muster. He laced his fingers through hers, trying to calm himself down. Before he could back out of it, he started the stream.

The chat flooded with questions immediately, most of which were asking about her. Corpse was able to avoid these questions for as long as he could, until someone donated a super chat question specifically asking about Corpse’s relationship status.

“Are you taken?” he read. “Well, I guess I can’t get around it now. The answer is yes, I am taken, and I am taken permanently.”

The chat went wild at this. Corpse’s hands began to shake again and (Y/N) squeezed the one she was holding, trying to look up at him sympathetically. His attention was focused on the screen in front of him, trying to get the words out the best he could.

“The truth is, I was seeing someone for a long time. She isn’t a content creator or famous in any way, so I wanted to keep our relationship to ourselves. We’ve made it public with her friends and family, but as far as my YouTube life goes, I wanted to keep it a secret. At first it was because I didn’t want to announce the relationship and have it go south and we break up, but the longer we kept it a secret the more I knew I wanted it that way because it was just another aspect of my life I thought would be better to keep to myself. I didn’t want to bring her into a spotlight that she didn’t want, and honestly, I didn’t want any of my fans to know who she was.

“And marriage...well, it wasn’t something I ever expected to happen to me. We weren’t even dating all that long when we both got drunk one night and I just...I asked her. We both laughed it off at the time, but the next morning when we sobered up I realized I still wanted to marry her. So I asked her again, promised her I’d get her a ring when I could, and she said yes. Flash forward about a year and...I’m a married man.”

(Y/N) leaned her head against Corpse’s leg and smiled up at him. Through his nervousness and anxiety, she could see him reminiscing on the history of their relationship, the way she liked to do sometimes. Especially on the hilarious story of their engagement.

“I won’t be giving any more details besides that,” he said. “I will not stream with her if she does not feel comfortable, I will not be publicly stating her real name, I certainly won’t be posting her face on any of my social media. Especially without her permission as she has already said she doesn’t really want a life in the public eye. I am sorry I kept this from you all for so long, but I hope you can understand my reasoning, and I hope you will all treat my wife with respect. That’s all I really want.”

He continued with the Q&A. After enough time had passed for that information to sink in, you decided to check Twitter to see what the reaction had been. The top trend, within a matter of minutes, was #wearehappyforcorpse. The hashtag was flooded with kind messages congratulating Corpse on getting married and on finding the one. A few people were sharing Corpse’s wishes and warning the extreme fans not to go looking for whoever Corpse’s wife was until one of them made her identity public. There was very little negativity and, although (Y/N) had told Corpse this would likely be the case, she was relieved to know that it actually was.

When the stream ended, (Y/N) could almost physically see the weight that had been lifted off Corpse’s shoulders. She stood from the floor to sit on his lap. He took her in his arms and buried his head in her shoulder, letting out a long sigh of relief.

“That went well,” she said. “Almost like I said it would.”

“Don’t say I told you so,” Corpse said, lifting his head to smile at her. “Although, I also knew it would go fine.”

“Even if it went different, we would’ve dealt with it together. That’s what married couples do.”

Corpse leaned forward and kissed her gently. (Y/N) smiled as she broke away and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he said.

“You are.”

Corpse chuckled and playfully squeezed her as he kissed over her neck and face.

[equipment-manifest]

#It's so funny to me that iterators seem to be built.. inside of bathtubs#that's what the retaining wall is right?#A wall that retains water for the iterator to efficiently re-sip#would also justify the facility-wide ridiculously high flooding

Retaining walls (in real life) retain soil, not water. I believe the purpose of the retaining wall is actually to keep the Iterators' rain from eroding the ground out from under them, based on Moon's comments on the Outer Expanse colored pearl:

I'm sure you've seen the world my creators left behind, then? The surface beyond the facility walls is a sea of mud, ruins, and thick plant life. The ground out there is almost like water, and few things remain stable. Ancient structures uncovered by fissures, only to be buried again.   The land around the retaining wall eroded long ago, and the subway system that connects me to my distant peers was eventually made into a network of railway bridges. They were used to ship construction material, until the surface became too dangerous.

That said, you might have been thinking of Five Pebbles' comments about the purple Shoreline pearl, which describes an artificial aquifer with the function you described.

This is very old. These are blueprints for the local aquifer that facilitated my initial construction next to my neighbor, Looks to the Moon.   She was built adjacent to a large canyon that was rich in resources. But continual operation of her facility lowered the waterbed to such an extent that the area began to wither away into an infertile state.   Continual cycles of rain from our operation forces the water into smaller localized pockets around the nearby terrain. The aquifer was meant to consolidate these distributed water systems and funnel their contents back into the canyon.  

im sure people have noticed this before, but as i was watching some gourmand playthru clips, i realized that this is probably an aerial view of Five Pebbles and Moon’s facility grounds??? The two white rectangles being pebbles and moon, with the precarious bridges between them. This really puts the sheer scale of the iterators, the layout of the areas, and also the devastation Pebble’s caused + Moon’s collapse had on the environment around it. at the veeeeeryyyyy top of the image, the other tip of the green circle thats barely coming in contact with the top of Pebble’s perimeter makes me think that that is another nearby iterator’s facility grounds. Maybe even one of the iterators we can see from The Wall

[cresvalkyrie]

Shepherd to the Stars: Ch1

First chapter: Escape from the S.S. Oceana

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Thud!

Wha-? How? Where?

Confusion overtook Hauyne as she scrambled back to her feet, absentmindedly rubbing at where her body had impacted solid ground. She frantically scanned her surroundings, trying to find something remotely familiar to reorient herself.

Something was… wrong, for a lack of a better term. She certainly wasn’t in her room anymore; last she checked, it was built on solid ground, in the outskirts of the fishing village and therefore quite some distance away from the sea. It definitely didn’t - or rather, couldn’t - sway like a baby’s cradle in time to the reposeful rhythm of a lullaby, nor would it be possible for her to hear just the faintest crashes of the waves colliding against land from there.

And that was without taking the opulent furnishings of the room into account. Hauyne frowned. It reminded her of the first-class hotels she’d seen on the Internet… though it was very unlikely she was in a hotel, with how she could feel the room shift. Was she on some sort of ship, then? A luxury liner, maybe? Not to mention that the design seemed vaguely familiar… now where has she-

Suddenly, it clicked.

It’s not just any liner… it’s the S.S. Oceana. The place where-

She hastily cut off that line of thought. Horror and dread churned inside of Hauyne as memories of the conversation she had in that faerie-ring of a forest clearing flooded her mind, twisting her gut into uncomfortable knots. That’s right… She's the Interceptor now. The deciding factor of a millennia-long conflict’s finale.

Glancing downwards, she clenched her fist, feeling her fingertips pressing against her palm. It certainly felt real enough. Not a dream, then. She really was here, on the S.S. Oceana, in the flesh.

Wait. If she’s here, does that mean…?

Bang!

Hauyne flinched, instinctively directing her gaze towards the source of the loud noise. Whatever morbid thoughts that ran through her mind had disappeared, too stunned and transfixed by the woman standing at the doorway - her posture crouched slightly in anticipation - to even think of anything else.

She was certainly a familiar face, even though Hauyne had never met her in person until now; fuchsia hair trimmed neatly into a chin-length bob, dignified white clothes, a pale face creased with laugh lines, and wine red eyes gleaming with emotion - an impossibility given what she is. Then again… like so many things in this world, Nancy was an anomaly in her own right. Yet, right now, she wasn’t smiling; if anything, her guarded expression made it seem as though she was prepared for a fight.

Hauyne tensed as Nancy’s eyes met hers. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw the briefest flicker of astonishment passing over the woman’s face, but it was quickly overridden by a look of worried concern.

Before she could even open her mouth, Nancy had already rushed to her side.

“Are you alright?” she whispered, inspecting her for any injuries.

Hauyne shook her head. “I’m fine. Just fell out of bed.”

Nancy seemed to buy the excuse, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank Arceus, I thought…” said Nancy, relieved.

She glanced away, as though trying to rein in her emotions. A sombre look clouded her features.

“...Are you okay?” asked Hauyne, tentatively. Something isn’t right here, that much she could tell.

Nancy started, as though she wasn’t expecting anyone to be concerned for her. Which is… rather depressing, actually. In the game’s storyline, the only one who gave a damn about her was the protagonist - the Interceptor. Her creator certainly didn’t care about her, other than whether she was capable of fulfilling her purpose as a caretaker. This just made her eventual fate all the more tragic.

An event which will never come to pass, if Hauyne had any say in the matter.

“Y-yes, I’m alright. Thank you, dear,” replied Nancy, a gentle smile passing over her features. “You had me worried sick when you just… shut yourself out.”

The woman let out a weary sigh. “I know I should’ve discussed this matter with you first… perhaps you wouldn’t be so upset with me if I did. I understand. It's hard leaving behind everything you’ve ever known, but it’s for the best. I promise.”

Hauyne didn’t respond, shifting her gaze downwards to conceal the turmoil of emotions raging in her eyes. Then, in a quiet voice, she spoke.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever for?” exclaimed Nancy, surprise overtaking her face.

“For making you worry,” she answered, inwardly cringing at how easily the lie had slipped past her lips. Technically, it wasn’t her who shut everyone out as part of some childish tantrum, but Nancy doesn’t, and didn’t need to, know that. She just wanted to cheer her up.

“It’s all right. I’m just glad to see that you’re fine,” said the woman, a smile lighting up her previously dark expression. “Tell you what. Why don’t you go and register for the Aevium League? I know you’ve been itching to try out the League challenge yourself.”

She donned a small smile of her own. “Sounds like a good idea.”

It was, in fact, a horrible idea in Hauyne’s sincere opinion. She knew that the life of a trainer was a hazardous one, and she liked to think that she had a working sense of self-preservation.

Sure, it was glamorous in the sense that they could befriend creatures that wielded all sorts of fantastical abilities and make use of their gifts… but it took immense skill, prudence and talent to pull it off; one wrong move, and they’ve signed their death warrants. As much as she loved to imagine herself as a trainer, particularly when she was younger, she wasn’t like the protagonists of the games - talented child prodigies who took down crime syndicates and worked miracles like it was an average Tuesday - and frankly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be proven wrong.

But then again, Hauyne wasn’t afforded a choice in the matter. If she were to survive long enough to be the butterfly that alters the course of fate, her mission as the Interceptor, she must become a trainer - a powerful one.

And the best way to do so is to conquer the Aevium League.

…She was beginning to regret every decision she had made thus far, and she had a horrible feeling that this is how it’s going to be for the entirety of her journey.

“Wonderful!” said Nancy, clasping her hands together. The seeming abruptness startled Hauyne, jolting out of her reverie; she had almost forgotten that she was still in a conversation. “The registration room is right around the corner. It’s the first room you’ll see just after the stairs.”

“Got it,” Hauyne said with a nod. “I’ll go on ahead then. See you later… Mom.”

She dashed out of the cabin just as she awkwardly uttered the last word, not wanting to see the woman’s reaction. Unbeknownst to her, Nancy had stared after her in open bewilderment, shaking her head in amused exasperation when it finally registered. Perhaps this might not be so bad after all…  

What am I doing…?

So thought Hauyne as she leaned against a wall, taking the time to catch her breath and reorganise her jumbled thoughts. It had been in the heat of the moment when she called Nancy… that, though she couldn’t say whether she regretted doing so or not. Not that she had any emotional attachments to the word, truth be told, but it still felt strange to call a woman she just met ‘Mom’.  

Hauyne looked to her side, towards the door to the registration room. She couldn’t help but feel like it was looming over her like a demented beast, despite its actual innocuous appearance, filling her with a heavy sense of dread and terror. She paused. Entering the room would commence the beginning of the storyline as she knew it, the onset of a life mired by strife and unspeakable hardships. It was something that she wasn’t quite ready to confront.

She sighed, inwardly berating herself for her impulsiveness and cowardice. She’d made her bed, so she’ll have to lay on it. There was no way she would let herself flee from the consequences of her rash decisions.

Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and went inside.

Under better circumstances, Hauyne would have found the place warm and inviting. Warm lights illuminated the room from above, creating a welcoming atmosphere that was well-complemented by the mellow tones of the room’s colour scheme. Unfortunately, in her current situation, she felt nothing but trepidation; the cheery vibes emanated by the room’s furnishings had only served to accentuate her feelings of unease even more.

Pushing all thoughts out of her mind, Hauyne made her way to the clerk’s desk. She perked up upon the sight of the teen nervously approaching her.

“Good afternoon,” greeted the clerk, donning a cordial smile. “Here to register for the Aevium League?”

“Um, yes,” stammered Hauyne, unable to keep the agitation from her voice.

“Great! Just take one of the PCs here and follow the instructions given,” instructed the clerk cheerfully, pointing at the rows of computers situated at the side of the room. “Come back here once you’re done and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Hauyne nodded, moving to the PC nearest to her to get started with the registration process. It took a while for her to boot it up, with how badly her hands were trembling and partly because of her lack of familiarity with the PC’s unintuitive interface. After a few minutes of fumbling around, she finally figured out how to use it and initiated the registration process.

God, how is it possible for this world to be simultaneously advanced and backwards?!

She exhaled, trying to release as much tension from her body as possible. This was it, Hauyne thought, as she watched the message “Registration process beginning…” flash across the screen multiple times. The dark background gradually transformed into a familiar skyline - the outline of East Gearen at night, she presumed; it was what any player would first see when they started a new game, provided that they skipped the prologue (which was a sacrilegious thing to do, in her personal opinion). And having played through the game countless times, Hauyne was rather well-acquainted with the registration process.

“‘Scuse me?” a woman’s voice - Amanda’s - rang out from the PC’s speakers. There was no sign of the person in question on the screen, however. “Can you hear me through that thing?”  

“Loud and clear,” Hauyne replied, dryly.

“Oh, good!” exclaimed Amanda. There was a faint crashing noise, followed by a series of clicks and the sound of something being jostled around. “Alright, just gimme a sec… my camera’s acting up again.”

Some moments later, a woman of dusky complexion appeared onscreen. Her eyes sparkled with exuberance, though it was somewhat diminished by how her brows were furrowed slightly from weariness. Had managing the entire Aevium League taken a toll on her? It couldn’t be, could it? If Hauyne recalled correctly, her brother Jan had shared the position of League Manager with her…

“Ah, that’s better!” sighed the woman on the computer screen. A sheepish smile spread across her face. “Sorry about the holdup. Damn camera’s got a mind of its own, I swear…”

“It’s fine. I’m in no hurry,” said Hauyne.

“Anyway, my name’s Amanda. It’s nice to meet you!” Amanda introduced herself, her enthusiasm so infectious that Hauyne couldn’t help but smile as well. “I’m what you call a scout. It’s my job to guide newcomers like you into the world of Pokémon.”

She nodded attentively.

“Before we continue, do you need any extra assistance?”

Hauyne shook her head, “No.”

“Fantastic!” Amanda’s smile widened into a beam. “Now, let’s talk about the expectations and requirements of the League.”

Amanda’s explanation was something Hauyne had already heard (read?) many times over, but she decided to listen anyway just in case. As expected, what the League scout said completely aligned with what she already knew about the Aevium League: eighteen gyms - each one specialising in one of the eighteen known Pokémon types - for the challenger to conquer, along with a gauntlet of eight elite trainers plus the Champion to tackle afterwards. Not to mention that Pokémon would not obey their trainer if they deemed them unworthy, regardless of whether the Pokémon was traded or captured/hand-raised by the trainer themself.  

Certainly a daunting challenge that would attract nothing but the most ambitious, perhaps even the toughest, of trainers to the region.

“Right, speaking of which,” began Amanda, having concluded her explanation of how the Aevium League works. “We should probably set up your Trainer’s Card now. Just to be safe, what gender do you identify as?”

“Female,” Hauyne answered without a second thought.

Though, come to think of it, wasn’t it confirmed in the latest update that the Interceptor’s appearance differs on the beholder? If so, how would she appear to others? As herself? One of the playable characters? …Maybe she should’ve said that she’s non-binary to avoid the potential confusion, or are the people here so open-minded that they wouldn’t even bat an eye if a masculine-looking person identified as female and et cetera?

“Okay, I got it!” she chirped, tapping away at her keyboard.

Well, too late for that now.

“‘Kay, so I have a few profiles on hand. Mind going through them?”

The screen, previously occupied by the video call window, was replaced by a series of profiles, each of them containing photos of people aspiring to sign up for the league. At a leisurely pace, Hauyne sifted through them, not wanting to miss out on anything by mistake. She didn’t exactly know what she was expecting to find as she went through the profiles, but she definitely wasn’t expecting this .

Snowy white waves tied back into a messy ponytail, a feathered hair accessory inlaid with cerulean gems tucked over her left temple, electric blue eyes that seemed to shine with an odd light, a petite feminine frame, and her trademark solemn frown… there was no mistaking it; this was definitely a photo of herself. The sight was nothing short of alarming to Hauyne, bordering on disconcerting even. How the hell did the Aevium League have a profile of her on hand when she didn’t even exist in this world until a few minutes ago?!  

…Still, she refused to lie and claim some random stranger’s profile as her own. As tempting as it was.

“This one,” stated Hauyne, barely keeping the stammer out of her voice.

The profile containing her headshot disappeared. The window to the video call popped back into view, showing Amanda preoccupied with something on her monitor. With a few clicks and taps of her keyboard, she processed the profile into a brand-new Trainer’s Card. Then, she turned her attention back to the video call.  

“Alright, now that we have that settled, I’m going to need a name.”

“Hauyne,” she said, curtly.

“So you’re Hauyne?” clarified Amanda.

“Yes,” she replied with a firm nod.

“Alright, everything seems settled!” Amanda said, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll see you once you get to East Gearen City, then! I’ll be waiting for you at the East Gearen Laboratory. Don’t forget! Safe travels, Hauyne.”

With that, Amanda ended the video call, a friendly wave being the last she saw of the scout before the window blinked into oblivion. Having concluded her business, Hauyne turned off the PC and returned to the clerk’s desk. The lady perked up, noticing that she was approaching her desk.

“Ah, have you finished your registration process?” she asked.

“Yeah,” responded Hauyne.

“In that case, let me print out your Trainer Card for you.”

The clerk turned to her computer behind her desk and typed something on her keyboard. Moments later, the printer behind her whirred to life, producing a gleaming rectangular object the size of an identification card into a tray. She retrieved the card without a second glance, returning her attention back to Hauyne.

“There! All done and ready for you,” she chimed, presenting a shiny new Trainer Card to Hauyne. “Please, take this.”

She accepted the card from the clerk’s hand, murmuring a quiet ‘thanks’ as she did so.  

“With this, you are officially registered,” the clerk remarked with a bright voice. “Best of luck to you!”  

Nodding once more in appreciation, Hauyne turned and headed to the exit. She brought the Trainer Card to her line of sight as she walked, carefully scrutinising its details. It was almost identical to the one she saw in the game: a light azure background, mugshot at the right, her particulars listed in four neat rows to the left, and the amount of badges she had under her belt displayed at the bottom. Which, given that she had just registered and didn’t have a Pokémon yet, was completely empty.

Strangely enough, there was absolutely no mention of the level caps on the card at all; perhaps the concept of ‘levels’ did not exist in this reality? Hauyne could only assume so.

Taking one last look at her new Trainer Card, she pocketed it, doing her utmost to quash down the torrent of conflicting emotions welling inside her chest.

“Oh, Hauyne!”

Hauyne perked, hearing her name being called. She swivelled towards the source of the voice, which turned out to be Nancy. It seemed that she had long since finished her chat with her old friend - Captain Augustus, if she were to hazard a guess - and had been patiently waiting for her to finish her errand. With a smile, Nancy walked over to her.

“I was just on my way to see how things were going,” she explained. “So how is it?”

“Smoothly,” replied Hauyne, showing her brand-new Trainer Card to Nancy.

“Is that your Trainer Card? How lovely!” exclaimed Nancy, clasping her hands together in joy. Her eyes practically lit up in delight upon seeing the card. “That means you’re officially ready to go! Aevium is a beautiful region with lots to do and see. Once we disembark at Oceana Pier, we’re off to Akuwa Town. It’s a colder, but cosy place to spend our days, you’ll see!”

Yeah, right…  

“Dear, are you feeling alright?”

The sudden question made Hauyne jump in surprise. She hastily shoved the card back into her pocket. “Um… never better. Why?”

“...Are you still upset?” asked Nancy, after a moment of hesitation. A solemn countenance fell upon her.

“I… guess?” she responded, not entirely sure on how to manoeuvre her way out of this. Nancy had somehow noticed her forlornness, but she didn’t - couldn’t - understand the reason why. She let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know.”

“I know moving is hard,” consoled Nancy, mustering up a comforting smile. It seemed that her excuse had placated the woman for the time being. “But this is for the best, I promise.”  

“Yeah, I know,” murmured Hauyne, her eyes downcast.

“In the meantime, why don’t you go and speak with the Captain?” suggested Nancy, in an attempt to cheer her up. “He’s a long time friend of mine. He can tell you more about Aevium.”

“What about you?” asked Hauyne, feigning curiosity. Even though she already knew the answer to that question.

“I… I have somewhere else to be right now,” she replied with some hesitance. “Please take care, Hauyne. I love you.”  

After saying what she needed to, Nancy hurried down the stairs and towards the cabins. Hauyne stared after her as she disappeared from sight, wondering if she should eavesdrop on the meeting. Not that it would change anything; being at the introduction/prologue of the plot, there’s little she could alter due to her nonexistent influence. And even if she could change anything at this point, it ran the risk of derailing the entire sequence of events far beyond the point of no return and thus rendering her foreknowledge useless.

In other words, Hauyne had no other choice but to follow the plot closely. Though…

You know what, why not? It’s not like it's going to kill me.

For whatever reason that Hauyne simply couldn’t fathom, there was a hole the size of a peephole in the eastern wall of the cabin.

If this were a game, Hauyne could sort of understand it to be a deliberate design by the developers; it usually hinted that interacting with it would uncover a hidden item, lore or whatnot. But this was reality. And she’s on a luxury cruise ship. There is no reason why an interactive detail from the game would carry over to reality, since flaws like these would normally be detected and rectified quickly.

Not that she’s complaining, honestly. If anything, it only made it easier for her to spy on the conversation.

Pressing herself against the wall as silently as possible, Hauyne positioned an eye over the peephole and gazed in.

There was Crescent and her Shiny Gothitelle, which was to be expected… but there were two others present as well. Two individuals whose presence almost made Hauyne reel back in shock. One of them was a young woman - probably around Crescent’s age, judging from her outward appearance - with jade green eyes and pale silver hair worn in a low ponytail. Her face was contorted into a displeased scowl as she impatiently tapped a finger against her arm. The second… was an honest-to-god Zeraora.

What the hell?! What’s Alain doing here? She looks older than I remember… but still! And why does she have a Zeraora? This makes no sense!

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a door opening and closing, followed by nervous footfalls. Before long, Nancy appeared in her line of sight, trembling ever so imperceptibly from apprehension.

A tense silence permeated the room. Scarcely a moment after, Alain turned a sharp gaze at Nancy, causing the latter to flinch before she hesitantly broke the uneasy quiet.

“...Hauyne woke up today,” she explained. “She seems to be doing exceptionally well, all things considered. Things are looking up, I hope.”

Alain’s eyes widened in astonishment at Nancy’s words, as did Zeraora. Hauyne couldn’t see Crescent’s reaction, with her back turned to them, but from how her posture had gone rigid at the news she could hazard a guess that it had caught her by surprise as well.

Woke up? …What does she mean by that?

Then, Alain huffed, the ghost of a fond smile flitting across her face.

“It’s just like them to make the impossible happen…” mused Alain, her stiff posture relaxing somewhat.

Hauyne noted Alain’s strange choice of pronouns. Perhaps she wanted to be on the safe side? Or was this the result of Variya’s “editing” to correct any discrepancies that may arise from her transmigration? Too bad she couldn’t contact Variya to grill her about this matter.

“Do you not have faith in them?” questioned Zeraora, sending a cool glance at Alain’s way. Her mouth did not move at all despite having ‘spoken’, so she was most likely using telepathy to communicate.

Alain’s scowled, offended by the remark. “Of course I did! What kind of a stupid question is that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted Crescent, her back still turned towards the rest of the meeting-goers. “What’s most important is that Hauyne’s alright.”

“Perhaps I should go talk to them after they’ve settled down… I only hope that they’ll understand.” she heard Crescent mumble underneath her breath. How she was able to catch the near-inaudible words, Hauyne has no idea.

Zeraora's gaze locked onto hers. Hauyne froze. Her imploring stare seemed to convey a silent message.

Please leave. For your own sake.

Unnerved, Hauyne rushed out of the cabin, not at all caring that her stomps could have alerted her presence to the meeting-goers next door. Just as she was ascending the stairs, she caught a final snippet of the group’s discussion before going out of earshot.

“Kali, is there something you’re not telling us?”

“...‘Tis nothing, Crescent.”

Hauyne made a beeline straight towards Augustus’ office, her mind whirling from what she had seen.

Alain’s… alive? But how? What’s going on here?

She shook her head violently, clearing her head of the puzzling thoughts as she ascended the last of the steps. Not that she really needed the talk, to be honest, but it would suffice as a distraction.

The conversation had gone exactly as she expected it to go: Augustus warmly welcomed her, followed by a game of twenty questions. Hauyne would ask a question, and the captain would answer with an enthusiasm befitting a man passionate about his career. And since she was no longer constrained by the limitations of a game, she made sure to be extremely thorough in her inquiries, covering as much ground as she could so she wouldn’t be caught flat-footed in the future.

To her dismay, the talk did not yield any new information whatsoever. Everything Augustus had told her was nothing Hauyne didn’t already know: Aevium originally being a single large landmass before Storm-9 sundered it into four (though the kindly old captain had called it a “mysterious event” and admitted that he knew very little about the Calamity itself), how the Pokémon in Aevium tend to appear and behave differently than their counterparts in other regions, and that the S.S. Oceana should be docking at Floria Island tonight. He also briefly talked about the Aevium League, though he didn’t go into detail.

Swallowing her disappointment at the lack of new intel, she thanked Augustus for his time and ended the conversation.  

Having nothing else better to do, Hauyne decided to wander aimlessly around the S.S. Oceana. While it had been an enjoyable pastime, she soon grew bored; there was only so much she could explore, with many areas off-limits to guests and having revisited the few places she could access countless times already. The only noteworthy event was when she found a suspicious group near the cargo hold, muttering in hushed tones amongst themselves. It didn't take a genius to realise who these people were and what they’re trying to do, though Hauyne couldn’t do much to intervene so she was forced to leave them be.

…That had left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

After exhausting all of the places she could explore, Hauyne returned to the ship’s lounge - the area where the registration room was located - to catch her breath, as well as mull over how best to prepare for the arduous trials ahead.

Releasing a weary exhale, Hauyne rested her forearms against the railings, idly watching the bustle of the other guests at the lounge below her. In the heart of the area, a crowd had gathered around Piano Lady, some enraptured by her skillful performance on the piano while others fawned over the Jigglypuff singing along to her melody. She paid no mind to it, opting to lose herself in her thoughts of the future.

“Fufufu… something on your mind, dearie?”

Hauyne flinched, snapping out of her daze. She looked around wildly, trying to ascertain the source of the voice, but only found a familiar Gothitelle giggling in amusement.

“Gothitelle!” scolded Crescent. She rushed over to the duo, shooting an annoyed glare at Gothitelle as she did so. It seemed that her partner had ditched her without warning. “Don’t sneak up on Hauyne like that. Apologise to them!”

“Of course. Apologies,” apologised Gothitelle, her tone unrepentant.  

Hauyne’s breath hitched in shock. She wasn’t sure which of the two was more alarming: Crescent approaching and talking to her, or the fact that she could understand Gothitelle's words perfectly as if she were speaking English. It was extremely peculiar: she clearly heard the vocalisations that Pokémon used as the basis of their spoken language, and yet her mind was able to interpret its meaning without any difficulty whatsoever.

This… this makes no sense!

“...Are you alright?”

Hauyne shook her head, trying to clear out the confusing thoughts. “Fine.”

Crescent doesn’t seem convinced by her response, but made no attempt to press further.  

“That’s good,” she muttered. “I’m sorry about Gothitelle. She can be a bit of a prankster, but she’s harmless.”

A bit…? Gross understatement of the century, Crescent.

“If you say so,” Hauyne muttered with a shrug.

An awkward pause.

“...Hauyne, do you know who I am?” asked Crescent, breaking the silence. Her hesitation all but evident to those who listened, yet she could detect the faintest traces of hope within her words.

Hauyne bit on her lower lip, unsure of how to respond. Sure, she knew who she was, but she never knew her as a friend. It didn’t feel right to answer ‘yes’, as it would be leading her on and ultimately condemning her to bitter disappointment. On the other hand, answering ‘no’ would not only be lying, but it would also upset Crescent. The most logical choice would be to deny it and leave it at that, and yet…

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Though… you do seem familiar. Have we met?”

Well, it wasn’t a complete lie anyway. Hauyne had met Crescent before, as player and NPC, but meeting the real deal in the flesh? There was no way it could have happened until now, therefore she could say that she had no prior recollection of it.

“I-I see,” choked Crescent, her voice strained like she had just swallowed something particularly unpleasant.

She looked away, conflicted.

“...I have to go,” she blurted. “Sorry for bothering you.”

Before Hauyne could even react, Crescent had already fled the scene. Gothitelle remained briefly to giggle ominously at her, then left to find her trainer.    

Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut…

“Oh, Hauyne!” called Nancy, as she approached Hauyne. “Come along now. The banquet’s about to start. You don’t want to be late now, do you?”  

“Y-yeah,” stammered Hauyne, a pit forming in her stomach.

“Dear, are you sure you’re alright?” frowned Nancy. “You’re as pale as a sheet!”

“I’m fine, really!” she exclaimed with forced cheer.

Nancy hesitated, like she wanted to protest, but ultimately acquiesced to her ward’s wishes and led Hauyne to the banquet hall in silence.

Hauyne felt restless.

Actually, restless was a gross oversimplification of the emotions running high and wild inside her. She was terrified, apprehensive and completely on edge, but dared not move a muscle, not wanting Nancy to realise that something was wrong. Every so often, she would furtively throw a glance at the banquet hall’s exit, then at the stage, and finally a quick scan of her general surroundings.

(She noted with mild surprise that Crescent and Alain sat on separate tables, their backs turned as if they were trying to avoid each other. Weird. Weren’t they close friends? Did something cause a rift to form between them?)

So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet; Augustus had not made his appearance, so the spotlight was currently on the pianist entertaining the guests with a recital while they waited for the captain to deliver his speech.

Paranoia and last-minute regret seized Hauyne in a vice grip. Maybe she should have told someone - anyone - about the explosives. Maybe she should have told Augustus that the S.S. Oceana had been infiltrated by Team Xen grunts disguised as guests. Maybe, just maybe…

And a voice rang out, snapping Hauyne out of the swirl of ‘maybes’ that threatened to consume her whole.

“Hello everyone, I am Augustus.”

Those were the only words she heard from the captain’s opening speech; the rest had faded into the background, for she was too anxious to listen. Not that it mattered, this was only a precursor of what’s to come. And if her memory served her right, the hijack would commence…

“...I’m sure you’re all starving. So let’s beg-”

“Sorry, but there’s something that needs taking care of first.”

Now.

Deafening booms shook the hall, eliciting frightened yelps from the guests. Augustus himself was caught flat-footed by the interruption, too stunned by the spectacle to do anything but look around the vicinity with wild eyes, much less stop the trio of disguised Xen Grunts from swaggering onto the stage like they owned the place. Given the current situation, they might as well be.

Unable to contain herself, Hauyne acted.

“Mom!” she hissed. “They’re with Team Xen. They’re going to take over the ship!”

Alarm fell over Nancy’s face. Without any hesitation, she moved, and in a flash, she stood between Augustus and the disguised grunts. Hauyne didn’t see her sending out her Sylveon, but the Intertwining Pokémon was already out and ready for battle by the time Nancy had reached them. Sylveon lowered herself into a battle-ready stance, growling and hissing her fury at the Xen Grunts.

Silence descended upon the room.

“Nancy, what is the meaning of this?” demanded Augustus.

“They’re criminals, Augustus,” she replied, coldly glaring at the astonished Grunts. “They’re here to cause trouble!”

“...So you know what’s going on, huh?” sneered one of the Grunts. “In that case, there’s no point keeping up the facade!”

At that declaration, all the Grunts in the hall discarded their disguises, revealing the dark uniforms underneath. The room exploded into panic and pandemonium in that instant; the civilians shrieked in panic and swarmed towards the exit, futilely trying to get as far away from the danger as possible, only to realise with horror that the doors had been locked from the outside. The trainers among the crowd stood their ground, calling upon their Pokémon to help them in the upcoming fight. The Grunts, too, sent out their own Pokémon to deal with the trainers obstructing their way.

“Crescent!” shouted Nancy. “Get Hauyne out of here!”

Hauyne snapped her gaze towards Crescent and her Gothitelle. She said nothing, but the world-traveller could clearly see the distress gleaming in her eyes. Wordlessly, she gestured at Gothitelle, her unspoken command obvious.

“Fufufufu… as the lady commands.”

Hauyne’s world shifted .

The first thing that registered was the blistering heat. Next the crimson incandescent glow, then the acrid stench of black smoke… and finally the tendrils of amber flames clawing the air. Belatedly, Hauyne realised that the world - no, the S.S. Oceana - was set ablaze.

And she was in the ruins of what was formerly Augustus’s office.  

Terror gnawed at Hauyne’s nerves; the attack has begun, and now all that’s left was to survive the rest of the onslaught and flee to fight another day. There was absolutely no time for fear or regrets. She needed to get to Nancy in time, or else everyone would be doomed.

Steeling herself, she hastened back to the banquet hall as fast as her legs could carry her.

All the lights in the ship had failed, leaving the ravaging fires the only source of light for Hauyne to navigate through the corridors. Hauyne shivered despite the rising heat; the sinister ambience produced by the conflagration and its resulting smog had gotten to her… whenever the flames faltered, the shadows distorted, making it seem as if she were stalked by something unseen . Entities incomprehensible to the human consciousness.  

Hauyne was exhausted. Her lungs burned. Her body ached . Her eyes watered in irritation. She felt clammy. The urge to wheeze and cough was unbearable. Everything hurts . Yet, she pressed on. The consequences of her failure were too daunting for her to even consider stopping.          

Mustering up a final burst of energy, she barged into the flaming hall with reckless abandon… and promptly collapsed onto her knees, panting.

“Hey, look who it is!”

Piano Lady ran up to her. She looked relieved to see her alive and relatively unharmed.

“I gotta say, kid, I’m glad to see you…” she exhaled, releasing the tension in her body. “I don’t know how you knew that these guys were up to no good, or how you managed to weasel your way out of this explosion, but kudos to you!”

Hauyne grimaced. She sluggishly forced herself upright, despite her body’s protests. “You heard that?”

“Of course!” exclaimed Piano Lady, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone did, actually. You’re not exactly quiet, you know?”

She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“A-anyway,” she stammered, both from bashfulness and fatigue. “You and the captain alright?”

“Um, yes,” said Piano Lady, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “I passed out for a bit, but otherwise fine. The Captain managed to stay conscious through all of this and doesn’t seem to be hurt, though… he isn’t responding to anything I say. I think he’s in shock.”

“I see,” nodded Hauyne, shifting her gaze towards the massive hole at where the stage used to be. “...Take care of him. There’s something I need to do. Don’t try and stop me.”

“W-wait, what are you saying kid?” yelled Piano Lady, alarm and horror setting in. “Don’t be reckless! We need to get out of here. It isn’t safe!”

Turning a deaf ear to her cries, Hauyne sprinted towards the gaping chasm and leapt in. Weightlessness took hold of her. Seconds later, her feet impacted solid ground; they buckled painfully, yet she forced herself to remain upright, gritting her teeth in silent agony, and ran like her life depended on it. Her legs shuddered from exertion and pain. She endured them through clenched teeth. Those were insignificant. What mattered was that she got to Nancy in time; she can deal with the side-effects later.

Deep down, Hauyne wished she could heed Piano Lady’s words of reason. It didn’t matter if she was risking her life through this act of recklessness; she had already lost the privilege of safety when she became the Interceptor. From the moment she accepted Variya’s contract, she must either rise up to the challenge… or fail and be forced to watch everything she held dear perish before her eyes.

And failure was never an option to Hauyne. Not if she wished to live.

The flooring collapsed as Hauyne was about to make a turn. Startled, she reeled back, lost her balance and fell painfully onto her rear. The next thing she knew in her panicked haze, a dark-skinned man in a buzzcut - Neved - leapt out of the chasm in a feat of superhuman athletics. He landed, gracefully and practically soundlessly, on the opposite side. Barely a moment later, Gothitelle emerged from the shadows below like a demented phantom, her body flaring magenta with psychic energy.

“And where do you think you’re going?” crooned Gothitelle, menacingly drifting towards Neved.

He fled. Gothitelle giggled, launched a blast of concentrated psychic energy towards him, and gave pursuit. Hauyne could feel the attack detonating even at a distance, its impact producing shockwaves that quaked the entire ship.

S-Such power! It’s unreal!

Rattled by Gothitelle’s casual display of power, Hauyne bolted. Before she knew it, she had reached the cargo hold. The place where the confrontation was set to transpire.

It seemed that she had made it in time. She watched Nastasia dart across the stacks of cargo like a shinobi, moving too fast to be seen as anything but a dark blur. Nancy, meanwhile, was too distracted by the acrobatics to notice Hauyne, her face set in a determined countenance as she warily observed her foe. In the blink of an eye, Nastasia materialised before Nancy and her growling Sylveon, regarding the latter with crossed arms and a cool stare behind the tinted lenses of her shades; it appeared she had gotten weary of toying with the fuchsia-haired woman. Was she so confident that she could take on Nancy without any effort?

For a brief moment, Nastasia locked eyes with Hauyne. The latter stilled, too apprehensive to react to the sudden attention. Without any rhyme nor reason, she averted her gaze, suddenly fascinated by the drab walls around them.  

“I’ve had enough of this!” Nancy snarled out in agitation. “No more running around! What are you doing, and why?!”

“...Perhaps you should be less concerned about me,” drawled Nastasia, eyeing Hauyne once more. “And more concerned about our guest that just joined us.”

“What?”

Confused, Nancy turned to inspect what - or rather, who - had caught Nastasia’s attention. Her eyes widened in alarm.

“Hauyne?! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, confusion and panic seeping into her tone. “I thought… Crescent. She was supposed to send you somewhere safe!”

“Sorry, safety is long gone for the both of you,” said Nastasia in a droning, almost lazy, voice. “For now, we’re going to take our target: you.”

“Me…?” parroted Nancy, bewildered.

“That’s right,” affirmed Nastasia, a hand on her hip. “Did you really think our target was Hauyne or something?”

The Xen Executive shrugged.

“Anyway, I was only going after you, but since both of you decided to just deliver yourselves to me…”

Nastasia snapped her fingers. Twin blobs materialised from thin air, rapidly taking the form of Deoxys.

“I’ll be happy to take you back to HQ on silver platters.”

Clicking her tongue in agitation, Hauyne backed away from the Deoxys clones. Nancy, too, assumed a defensive posture, angling herself to better protect her ward from further danger.

“Now do you understand?” asked Nastasia rhetorically.

“...There isn’t any future for this ship, or for anyone else you’ve put through this,” admitted Nancy, her words taking on a solemn tone.

“Glad you see things my way,”

“But I will create hope for at least one person,” declared Nancy, her voice filled with determination.

She turned to face Hauyne, donning a sickeningly familiar smile. She knew that sort of smile; it was the kind only those who had fully accepted their impending demise would wear. It was, dare she admit it, the kind of smile that she despised the most.

Because it only made their departure hurt more.

“Hauyne…” began Nancy, her tone poignant and sincere. “I know that we’ve been distant, but know that I only want you to be happy. And while it hasn’t been for a long time, I was glad to be able to share time with you on this ship.

“I will hold her off for as long as I can, but I want you to run. Even in a place as confined as this vessel, you must run anyway. Even in the times where a future seems impossible, you must keep on! For it is through that pursuit of hope, that opportunity shines through. And wherever you end up… Find new friends. New opportunities, new love. Know that no matter where you are, or what you’re doing… I’m looking upon you. Smiling. Protecting. That’s my love for you, Hauyne. A mother’s love.”

It was all she could do to not let the tears fall. She shook her head, wanting so badly to protest against the unfairness of it all… but she understood.

There was nothing she could have done to prevent this. As painful as it was to admit it.

“Go, my child. Run.”

As though possessed, Hauyne fled. She ran, faster than she had ever done in her entire life, towards the one place she knew she’d be rescued. Her vision blurred and teetered. Hot tears trickled down her face. She swept them away, barely suppressing a hiccup that threatened to escape. Without warning, the ship shuddered with a drawn out groan , the abrupt movement throwing her off-balance and into the adjacent wall. White-hot pain flared in her shoulder. She bit back an agonised scream as she slid helplessly onto the floor, one hand over her throbbing shoulder.    

Damn it… not now!

Shadows crept up behind her. Hauyne noticed, but reacted far too late. A Deoxys clone wrapped its tendrils tightly around her torso and wrists, practically squeezing the air out of her lungs. It effortlessly hoisted her up, paying no heed to its captive’s feeble struggles for freedom, and whisked her away to who-knows-where. Her heart felt as if it had plummeted into her stomach, and she struggled - this time in a more desperate fervour.

The clone’s grip remained iron-clad.

Terror and disbelief engulfed her whole. Was… was this how it was going to end? It couldn’t be! She refused!

She squeezed her eyes shut, a lump in her throat and it was all she could do to not cry in fear. As though her prayers had been answered, Hauyne felt the pressure on her torso vanish; the next thing she knew, her body hit the floor, splinters from the damaged wooden flooring digging into her exposed skin. Distantly, she could hear the clone let out an ungodly screech as something collided into it with a mighty boom like thunder. She tentatively opened her eyes. The clone was nowhere in sight, with only a smoking crater shaped suspiciously like a Deoxys within eyeshot as the only trace of its presence. Soft footfalls resounded in the silence, and a familiar Pokémon - Alain’s Zeraora - towered over her fallen form. Her eyes gleamed with an unreadable emotion.

“Go!” she commanded. “This will not delay it for long.”

Hauyne didn’t need to be told twice. Mustering up a second wind, she took off. Behind her, Zeraora yowled a challenge, and she heard the sounds of crackling electricity.

Her heart racing, Hauyne barrelled through the final exit and into the pouring rain. Thunder rumbled overhead; it seemed that a storm had begun sometime during the fiasco. Something roared under the deck, and her world tilted. She barely had time to let out a surprised yelp as the S.S. Oceana abruptly lurched to its tipping point, casting her overboard.

By reflex, Hauyne grabbed onto the damaged railings; she glanced down, a primal fear shooting up her spine. At that moment, she didn’t care about how raw her hands had gotten from the sharp metal cutting into her flesh, the warm and sticky liquid which smelled faintly of iron - blood, her blood, she belatedly realised through the haze of panic - flowing down her arms, or the painful chafing of her arms scraping against the rough, almost serrated edges of the sinking liner. All she could think of was holding on, desperate to not plummet into the grey waves below and possibly towards her death. Especially when her grip was slipping. Fast, and terrifyingly so.

“There she is!”

Hauyne didn’t know who found her. All she knew was alarm, panicked shrieks, then falling, falling, falling…

Splash!

Cold jolted Hauyne out of her stupor. She gasped, only to gag when saltwater rushed into her lungs instead of air. Instinct took hold. Raindrops pelted her face like icy needles the moment she breached the surface, gasping and looking around frantically. She could barely see past her own hands through the heavy rainfall. Thunderclaps boomed in the distance, accompanied by the eerie howls of the S.S. Oceana falling apart by its rivets. Panic surged through her as her strength began to flag-  

CRACKA-BOOOOM!

White. Pure, brilliant, blinding white. Numbness. Muscles convulsing. Sinking. Watery frigidness entombed her in its suffocating embrace. Darkness consumed all. Haunting, muffled silence soon followed. Ears ringing. Pain. So, so much pain. N-need air… But… she can’t move… Her body refused to. So, so tired… Maybe the pain will go away if she sleeps…

BAWWW!!!

Something grabbed - its grip firm but not uncomfortably so - at her shoulders. Weightlessness. The cold receded into a more tolerable chill. Sweet, sweet air filled her lungs. She coughed, hacking out the water that had clogged her airways. Harsh winds battered at her limp form and whistled its piercing melody into her ears.    

Before she could fully process what had happened, Hauyne felt the… something loosen its grip, gently depositing her onto solid ground. She fell face-first onto the surface - wooden boards, her mind supplied woozily - slipping in and out of consciousness, all while trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. In her daze, she saw a red and grey blob approaching her, talons clacking softly against the pier with every step. Something soft and feathery wriggled beneath her, carefully manoeuvring her onto itself, and carried her off to… wherever.  

Warmth blossomed in her chest.

She blinked, feeling her lightheadedness beginning to abate. Slowly, she weakly pushed herself up, glancing around through bleary eyes. Drab warehouses and docks stretched as far as the eye can see, interspersed by the occasional street lamps. It took her a while for her to realise that she was in Oceana Pier, the place where the S.S. Oceana was scheduled to dock.

“You’re awake!” said the lump beneath her, surprised and relieved in equal measure. The voice sounded masculine. “How are you feeling, kid?”

“Terrible,” rasped Hauyne, only to break out into a violent fit of coughing. The next thing she knew, she was puking up a mixture of seawater and bile.

“Arceus forfend! Don’t throw up on me!” screeched the Voice, throwing her off his back in his panic to avoid the vomit.

She slumped onto the ground, knees first. By then, she had already emptied out everything in her stomach, and was now alternating between dry retches and feeble coughs. She clumsily slapped a hand over her mouth, as though it would be of any help keeping the puke back in.

“...You done?” asked the Voice, cautiously.

“Why don’t you stick around and find out?” snarked Hauyne in between coughs. At long last, the coughing fit subsided, allowing her to breathe freely.

She looked up, curious to know the identity of her saviour. To her surprise, it wasn’t a person as she had initially assumed. He was, instead, a Talonflame. One that was currently eyeing her with suspicion and concern.

“Well… if you’re sassing me, you’re probably fine,” concluded Talonflame, shimmying in a way that almost resembled a human shrug. “That’s pretty impressive, actually. Considering you got struck by lightning. Humans don’t usually survive that, much less coming out of it relatively unscathed.”

“Excuse me, I what ?” sputtered Hauyne, dumbfounded by Talonflame’s casual bombshell.    

Talonflame snapped his head towards her, astonished. “You… you can understand me, kid?”

Just as Hauyne was about to respond to his question, they were interrupted by the sounds of a yacht docking into the pier. The shutters of a nearby warehouse opened, and out came a fetching woman with vibrant red hair - Tesla. Her eyes widened - from shock, worry or concern, maybe a combination of all three, she couldn’t say for certain - as soon as she spotted Hauyne kneeling on the ground.

“Oh dear,” she whispered in abject horror, running towards Hauyne. “When I saw the lightning, I didn’t think… Can you stand?”

“N-no,” stammered Hauyne, teeth chattering from the wet and cold. “Talonflame carried me out of the pier.”

“I see,” Tesla bit her lip, worry and concern evident on her face.

Without a second thought, she picked Hauyne up and draped an arm over her shoulders, carefully supporting the teen’s weight like a crutch. Her legs felt like they had turned into gelatin, and if she didn’t have Tesla helping her up it would be impossible for her to stand without crumpling to the ground.

“Come, let’s talk inside,” murmured Tesla, rubbing soothing circles on Hauyne’s back. “You’re going to fall sick at this rate!”

Hauyne nodded weakly. Soon, she was sitting on a couch inside the yacht, swathed head to toe in blankets and towels Tesla had dredged up from some hidden compartments. Talonflame huddled beside her, his wings wrapped around her to provide the extra warmth she needed to stave off a potential hypothermia. Tesla, on the other hand, had disappeared into the captain’s room once she was satisfied with the amount of layers she had bundled Hauyne in, muttering something about a first-aid kit.

Despite everything, she couldn’t help but quaver underneath the thick layers, an odd chill seeping into her bones.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” piped Tesla, returning with a first-aid kit in hand. She took a seat beside Hauyne, placing the box on the coffee table. “If you don’t mind, can we talk while I treat your wounds? I’ve patched up injuries like these many times in the past, so leave it to me.”

“Wounds?” repeated Hauyne, stunned.

Tesla gestured at her arms, not saying anything. Hauyne examined herself, and promptly recoiled in disgust. A gruesome assortment of bruises, scrapes, chafes and blisters splotched across her exposed flesh, almost reminiscent of an abstract painting. Patches of skin peeled off - a few still oozing pinpricks of crimson - from her forearms and hands, most likely a consequence of how she had gripped onto the broken railings like death was nipping at her heels. Congealed and freshly-shed blood alike caked her forearms in broad strokes, carving out a criss-cross of angry jagged streaks.

How did she not notice them before?

“...Oh,” said Hauyne lamely. Nodding tentatively, she raised her bloodied arms to let Tesla take a look at them.

“Thank you,” smiled Tesla, her ruby red eyes gleaming with appreciation for her cooperation. She deftly opened up the first-aid kit and got to work on patching her up. “By the way, my name is Tesla. Tesla von Brandt. I’m from Terajuma, the tropical island of Aevium. What’s your name?”

“I’m Hauyne,” she replied, hissing as her wounds stung from the disinfection. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Tesla.”

“No need to be so formal! ‘Tesla’ is fine,” giggled Tesla. “Hauyne, is it? That’s a wonderful name!”

The girl blushed at the compliment.

“Now, if you’re alright with it, can you tell me what happened?” inquired Tesla softly, her voice gentle and empathetic. “I was on my way to East Gearen when I picked up a distress call. Talonflame and I made our way to that location as fast as we could, but… well, we only managed to find one survivor - you.”

Hauyne stiffened at that reminder. Dare she reveal the truth to her? Brazenly claim that it was by fate’s design that she was the only one who managed to escape, out of the hundreds of passengers and staff that were on the S.S. Oceana? …No. That sounded far too outlandish, even in her mind and with the foreknowledge that assured her it was meant to be. And even then, it was only by Zeraora’s intervention that she actually managed to get out at all. The fact she was thrown overboard, apparently got struck by lightning and nearly drowned notwithstanding.  

The censored version it is, then.    

Letting out a tired sigh, she began to recount the events that transpired, carefully leaving out the parts that hinted at her peculiar origins. By the time her tall tale came to a close, all of her wounds had already been bandaged, and the medical equipment returned to their rightful places in the kit. Meanwhile, Tesla listened to her tale in rapt attention, as did Talonflame - judging from the way he ceased to fidget about restlessly as she spoke.

“I see…” spoke Tesla, after a long pause that followed when Hauyne finished her tale. Her eyes shone with sympathy and sorrow. “That’s a harrowing tale. I’m so sorry that you went through all of that.”

“I agree,” stated Talonflame with a solemn nod. “A kid shouldn’t have to go through all that.”

Hauyne smiled sadly at Talonflame’s statement. She didn’t dare reply verbally to his words lest she alert Tesla to her strange ability, so instead she rubbed his crest feathers in a show of appreciation. The raptor leaned into her touch, crooning softly. Hauyne idly noted that his plumage felt warm - abnormally so for a Fire-type - to the touch, like a dying ember in an open palm. She wondered if Talonflame had Flame Body as his ability; if so, it was rather unusual. Most competitive trainers would go for Talonflames with the rarer Gale Wings ability, ordinarily for a Tailwind setup or a revenge-kill sweep.  

“Judging from your description, it looks like the group that attacked the ship was Team Xen,” continued Tesla, snapping Hauyne out of her idle musings. Her expression turned solemn. “They’re a criminal organisation that seemed to just have popped up in Aevium out of nowhere. But they’re usually known to be somewhat incompetent, or at least, rarely active. That’s what is so confusing about this. I believe this is their first actual attack?”

You’d be correct. This will be the first… of many.

“Is that so?” said Hauyne, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

“Are you worried about your mother?”

Hauyne tensed. Then, she nodded, nervously averting her gaze.

“That’s alright. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Tesla smiled comfortingly. “It’s only natural that you’d be worried. But, I wouldn’t worry too much about your mother. Based on what you told me, it sounded like she’s quite strong. I have a feeling she can take care of herself.”

Hauyne already knew that. Yet, hearing the reassurance coming from someone else - especially coming from someone as compassionate as Tesla - set her mind at ease.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” said Hauyne, mustering a feeble smile. “She’s strong… she’ll find a way to survive.”

Talonflame nuzzled her side consolingly.

“Come to think about it, you’re all alone now, aren’t you?” mused Tesla, her face set in a frown. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you plan on doing now?”

“I… don’t know,” she admitted. The notion of her becoming a trainer unnerved her more than it reasonably should, for reasons she couldn’t understand. “I was supposed to go to Gearen Laboratory to finish the registration process as soon as I arrived, so I'm going to do that. Maybe I’ll have things figured out by then.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Tesla remarked with an approving smile. “The lab offers starter Pokémon for beginner trainers like you, so you’ll be able to get a Pokémon of your own from there. You’ll need one if you’re going to be travelling the Aevium region. But… I think that can wait until tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

“I know you’re eager to start your journey,” explained Tesla, her tone patient and understanding. “But you’ve had more than enough excitement for the night. Just look at yourself! You’re so exhausted that you can’t even stand. I think it’ll do you some good to get some rest.”  

“But…” Hauyne trailed off. “I don’t have a place to stay.”

“Here,” Tesla produced a plastic card from one of her pockets and offered it to her. “This is the keycard to my room in Chrisola Hotel. If you’re feeling up to it, you can head over to the hotel and rest there. Show this to the receptionist and let him know about your situation. He’ll tell you how to get there.”

“A-are you sure?” Hauyne stared at Tesla with wide eyes, taken aback by her generosity. “What about you? Don’t you need it?”

“Positive,” she replied with a firm nod. “I won’t be using the room for tonight, and you need it more than I do. So please, take the card.”

Hauyne reluctantly accepted the keycard. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I’m heading to the wreck site,” answered Tesla, a determined look on her face. “I’m going to search the area and see if I can find any more survivors.”

You’re not going to find anyone else… no one else escaped except for me. Nastasia made sure of that.

Well, except for Crescent and probably Alain. Being a Stormchaser, Crescent was likely trained to handle threats such as these and thus had the highest chance of making it out. Alain… was uncertain, being a total enigma to her, but if she was with Crescent and apparently a skilled enough trainer to earn the respect of a Mythical like Zeraora, then there’s a distinct possibility that she got out as well. Either way, Hauyne made sure to keep a lid on herself. It wouldn’t do for her to blab her secrets out for the world to hear again, even if she knew - without a shadow of doubt - that Tesla was trustworthy.

With that declaration, the Elite Eight member made her leave. Talonflame perked up from his makeshift nest of blankets, hopping down from the couch and joined her side like a faithful partner.  

Just as Tesla was about to exit the yacht, she paused, turning to Hauyne for the last time.

“Will you be alright on your own?” asked Tesla, her expression marred by worry and motherly concern. “After… what happened to you earlier.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hauyne reassured her.

Tesla didn’t seem convinced, but relents nevertheless. “If you’re sure. I just want you to know that it’s okay for you to stay here if you’re not well enough to walk to the hotel. I won’t blame you for that.

“And one more thing, Hauyne.”

“Yes?”

“Be strong, and don’t lose hope,” advised Tesla, in the kindest voice Hauyne had ever heard in her entire life. “I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Things will eventually work out if you’re patient enough.”

Having said her piece, she and Talonflame disappeared into the stormy night.

Prev < Prologue > Next

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.