#and Outright Discombobulation

[tainebot01]

Another Ace Attorney animatic, this time inspired by a video by @arcticflakes here!

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Have you done noivern/noibat line? They are just big fluffy bats and I think they would be great (:

Since we’re haven’t covered either, we might as well start with the first stage: the adorable noibat! Unfortunately, I must urge you to not be fooled by the B rank this pokémon earned in my algorithm: these little guys won’t be the right fit for most owners. If you are really dedicated, and don’t care too much about your ongoing ear health, then a noibat may work for you.

Even with the extra height afforded to them by their big ears, noibats are well within housepet size at just over a foot-and-a-half tall. They’re rather lightweight as well, which checks out given their aerial lifestyle. A noibat would be right at home in yours, as wild noibats are well versed in living in the tight spaces of caves (X). There is, however, a pretty extreme downside to this.

Noibats spend most of their time in the dark, meaning they rely on echolocation to navigate around the caves they make their homes in the wild, determine when their favorite foods are ripe (Ultra Moon), and to deter larger pokémon (Shield). Their ears work like organic speakers, emitting sound waves of 200,000 hertz, which bounce off of their environment and return to them, allowing them to get around without flying into anything (X, Y). This is going to make living in an enclosed space with a noibat annoying at best, and dangerous at worst. According to the pokédex, “even a robust wrestler will become dizzy and unable to stand” when exposed to these sound waves (Y). When your little friend is simply making their way from one end of the house to the other, you might find yourself greatly disoriented, which can of course be dangerous. Now, there are certainly ways to get around this issue in your day-to-day. If you provide an outdoor space for your noibat, as well as a dedicated shelter for them, you may have less issues. This would require carefully training your noibat to stay close to your home, however. These fruit-lovers are easily mistaken and will go after applins, so if any live in your area you may have issues (Scarlet).

If you do manage to get around the sound waves issue, caring for a noibat is pretty straightforward. As previously mentioned, these pokémon love fresh, ripe fruit, so providing them with a steady supply is a must. This provides a great opportunity for some enrichment play, since these pokémon are avid searchers: try hiding their food and allow them to find it using their sonar (Ultra Sun, Ultra Moon). It is important to note that this is a nocturnal species, so morning people beware (Sword)! If you want to spend some quality out-of-the-cave time with a noibat, be prepared to stay up late.

Thankfully, besides the clear sound wave issue, noibats aren’t exceptionally dangerous. They can use a few pretty dangerous Flying-Type moves, like Hurricane, but it seems to me that, if threatened, a noibat is far more likely to try and discombobulate you with their sound waves than to attack you outright. These moves played a role in the score, but not to the point that it tanked it too bad.

Overall… well… I love this pokémon, but it’s really not going to be a great fit for most owners. That being said, if you’re careful enough (and a night owl), you may be able to make it work. Expect complaints from your neighbors, though.

[aussiexlovexaffair]

american!reader meets classmate!luke in the librarywords: 2.2k! request fill: anon ask! tags: strangers to crushes tw: none! author’s note: i have nothing to say except stream mgc 1 and cth 1 <3 listen to: “unpredictable by 5 seconds of summer

Ever since you’ve transferred to a school in Australia, you’ve been a bit discombobulated. Here, the school year starts in late January compared to early September back in America. Your parents, thanks to their spur-of-the-moment decision to move, have thrown you into a college a month late.

Making friends and adjusting to the more difficult coursework has proven to be difficult. By this time of year, most people have already secured a stable friend group with no intention of opening it up to any newcomers. The homework is piling up day by day. But there is something positive about Norwest College— it has free periods.

Every week, to mimic a university’s schedule, a class will have a “free period” in which students can go to their teachers for help or catch up on work for another class. A majority of your peers use it as a time to socialize, but you’ve got too much work to do. As awful as it sounds, you have to utilize your time productively. 

So for your English class’s free period, you decide to head to the library. Upon arrival, it’s no surprise to you that students have already made themselves comfortable at various tables amongst the bookshelves. While many people use their free periods to hang out with their friends on the field or grab a snack from the cafeteria, you can always count on a few dozen students to be in the library. The librarian, a frail woman in her 70’s, purses her lips as you enter the room. Offering her a respectful smile, you begin to greet her, “Hello, Mrs—”

“The computers are only to be used for research purposes. There’s a chart on the side of the first book shelf that explains the Dewey Decimal System.” Her gnarled hands bury themselves with sorting through books that have been recently returned. She shakes her head at one of them, unfurling a dog ear bookmark that someone left behind. “And don’t let me catch you making any unnecessary noise. There’s no talking in here. There are people trying to work.”

It takes everything in you to keep the unwavering smile on your face. “...Thank you, Ma’am.” You nod your head in acknowledgement and advance further into the room. There aren’t many tables that aren’t occupied with your peers. You can’t even look for anyone that you know, as you haven’t had the chance to befriend many of them yet. Your eyes drift over the room until you spot a longer table with only one occupant. 

At the far end of the table is a blond boy with a grey hoodie pulled over his head. His eyes are cast down at an array of papers as he twiddles his blue BIC pen in one hand. His foot taps softly under the desk with every bounce of his leg. Judging by his nerves, the boy wouldn’t outright object to you sitting with him. He just might be a bit awkward. But you don’t have any plans to talk to him— not after the drill sergeant at the front desk gave you a lecture about it. You’re 95% sure she might take a ruler to your hand if you break her rules.

With a sharp inhale, you approach the other end of the table and slide the wooden chair out. The sound of the legs brushing against the carpet causes the boy to glance over out of the corner of his eye. You subtly pick up on him doing a double take, fully turning his head towards you as you sort through your backpack for your notebook. You place the black notebook in front of you and look into your bag for a pen. The blond clears his throat, “Do… you need a pen?” He hesitates to ask the question even after he’s started it, but eventually the words tumble out quietly. He eyes the librarian just in case his volume was too loud.

“Uh.. you don’t have to give me one, I’m sure mine’s in here somewhere.” The skin of your cheeks heats up as he continues to watch you search for one at the bottom of your bag. When your movements hasten in embarrassment, he slides his chair a little closer and holds out his pen. 

“I’ve got another one, you can borrow mine.” His tongue swipes over his slightly-chapped bottom lip. “S’okay, I swear.”

You hesitate for a moment before reaching out to accept it. “Thank you.” He nods, his mouth opening to get another word in before a shrill voice interrupts him.

“No talking!” The librarian leans over her desk and stares daggers into the boy. In shame, the boy brings his attention back to his papers, eyes flickering up to the old woman every now and then.

A frown forms on your lips. The blond, whoever he is, doesn’t deserve to be yelled at for helping someone. The guilt of being the reason behind her actions eats away at you. You tear out a piece of paper from your notebook, careful to be as quiet as possible, and scribble out a note on it.

sorry, i should’ve been quieter when talking to you. i didn’t mean for you to get yelled at. 

Folding it up, you slide the note across the table towards the boy. His concentration breaks from the notes he was studying and he slowly unravels the folded paper. You watch him read it over once and grab another pen from his bag. A hasty message is scrawled under your own words in black ink. After he’s done, he sends the paper your way. It reads:

it’s okay. don’t beat yourself up about it.

A little further down is an addition to the response. 

i’m luke. what’s your name?

You allow your head to turn to the side. He no longer looks at his paper, but stares vacantly at the room around him. Occasionally, he checks over his shoulder to see if you’re writing him a response. When he notices you watching him, he immediately returns to studying. His teeth catch on his lower lip nervously. You uncap your pen once again and write back.

y/n. i’m new. i’m from america.

The paper finds its way back into the blond boy’s hands. He reads silently before doing the same thing back. 

I heard the accent haha          what’s America like?

A small laugh escapes your lips at the question. Your thoughts about your home country are complicated to say the least. You return the note to him.

there are good and bad things about it. there’s a lot of diversity there, so i guess that’s cool. I don’t really know what to tell you

The corners of his lips curl up and he hesitates before writing out another sentence.

your president’s an orange asshole

Reading the words has you stifling out a laugh. You know that other countries have various thoughts on America and its political climate, but Luke’s wording is amusing. You hold in the giggles and respond.

you’ve got no idea. our vice president’s got a mean cat eye going on though

Luke’s head tilts at the words “cat eye.” He doesn’t have any sisters of his own to tell him about these terms, but he’s got enough common sense to work out what it might mean. He writes back quickly. 

i like your laugh

His hands pause before he sends the paper back to you. He awaits your response with baited breath. Based on that, you assume he doesn’t have the most experience with girls. You soothe his nerves when you grin at the comment. The blond eagerly accepts the paper back when you’re done with it.

thanks xxx you’ve got pretty eyes. and cool bracelets

His pale cheeks glow a rosy hue. He’s used to his mom and grandma calling him handsome or dashing or whatever mortifying compliment they can muster up. He isn't used to being called "pretty." Luke isn’t used to it coming from a cute girl, either. He slides the paper over to you.

thank you !! and also thank you for noticing my bracelets ! not a lot of people compliment them here

You lift your gaze from the note and frown at the end of his sentence. In Australia, you know it isn’t the most common to be goth, emo, scene, alt, or really anything that isn’t “normal.” You quickly write a reply and give the note back.

no way ˙◠˙ they’re so cool!!

You can practically see him light up at the compliment. Luke thinks quietly, eyes trained on your handwriting. His right leg bounces absentmindedly until he scribbles out another note and passes it. 

what locker number are you?

Your eyes narrow at the words, the dot of the question mark bleeding through the other side. You answer his question moments later. 

271

With the note in one hand, he uses his dominant one to jot down the number in the corners of his notes. Before he can return the note to you with another sentence written on it, the bell rings. Science class is just minutes away and you haven’t got your textbook with you. Shit. Jolting out of your seat, you stuff your things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder. You take advantage of the scuffling of shoes and sliding of chairs to speak, “I’m so sorry, I’ve got bio and I don’t have my books. I have to go.”

He nods his head, mouth agape as he watches you quietly. His brain catches up to the present and he eventually brings himself to talk. “Yeah— yeah, no. Of course. Uhm… see ya around. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He brushes a stray strand of hair away from his eyes and dips his head back down to his notes reluctantly once you head towards the exit of the library.

After a few more hours, the school day comes to a close and you make your way to your locker. Something in the vent of the metal door catches your eye. Stepping closer with a confused squint, you bring your hand to the object jammed into the slit. A metal studded bracelet hangs out of your locker with a note to the right of it. You unfold the notepaper and immediately recognize the handwriting. 

i hope this doesn’t come across as weird, but i think you’re really pretty and i was wondering if you’d like to hang out some time?

☐ yes ☐ no

p.s: you can keep the bracelet no matter what :)p.p.s: i heard people talking about a bio test, so i hope you did well on it 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke’s lanky figure hunched over as he empties his backpack and puts his belongings into his locker. You remove the same pen he loaned you from your bag and quickly mark the “yes” box on the note. Underneath his two side notes, you jot down your phone number as well. Folding it up again, you shut the door of your locker and click the lock closed. You cross the hallway silently— bracelet, note, and pen in hand. 

Tapping him on the shoulder, you hold up the pen. “Thought you’d like this back.”

He eyes you up and down slowly before palming it and placing it in his pencil case. “You didn’t really need to give it ba—”

“And this.” You cut him off and raise the note to his line of vision. The boy swallows and lets out a breathless huff.

“Did you get the bracelet? I figured that guys usually give girls something when they…” Luke’s breath hitches nervously. “..when they like a girl.” Your smile comforts him slightly. At least he isn’t making a total fool out of himself if this is the reaction he’s getting.

“I did.” Your head tilts to the side softly. “It was very sweet of you, Luke.” He blushes and focuses back on his locker, shutting it softly and locking it up. “And to answer your question— yes, I would love to hang out with you some time.”

His hand rests against the cold metal for a moment as his brain processes your words. Pulling his bag over his shoulder, he shifts his weight between his feet. “Oh!.. Uhm, okay, cool!... Yeah, I know of a pretty neat skatepark if that’s your thing. Or we can just go to the park if you don’t wanna do that. Whichever you wanna do, I’m down for anything.”

With a little giggle, you urge him to take the note. The blond accepts it and unfolds it, eyes scanning the paper. He notices the number you’ve given him at the bottom and his lips part in shock. “The skatepark sounds awesome, Luke. You just let me know when you’re free, ‘kay?” You step to the side and begin to walk away towards the doors. 

You call out to him over your shoulder with a knowing grin, “Text me!”

Swallowing his nerves, Luke nods eagerly and smiles, following your form with his gaze. “Yeah— yeah! I’ll text you!” Looking back down at the number at the bottom, he notices the small heart you’ve drawn at the end of it. 

Luke has never been so quick to save a contact in his life.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Not All Birds Fly; Ch. 2

Summary: Sometimes, denying the truth is easier than accepting it, but how far are you willing to go to live a peaceful life when she no longer exists?

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Warnings: death, blood

Words: 12190

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The loud, violent shrill of a siren cut through your slumber, startling you awake with a gasp. You sat up, eyes flying open as you immediately searched for the ear-splitting screech to silence it. You breathed out when you found your phone, shutting off the alarm before rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. Your brain was still foggy, discombobulated from the sudden disturbance from your deep, dreamless sleep.

You pulled your hands away from your face, blinking away the darkened edges of your vision, making yourself refocus on what was in front of you. You were seated at the workbench in Clint's barn-turned-house, Natasha's bracelets resting in the middle of the counter. And then it dawned on you, hitting you harder than a semi-truck: you were finished.

The bracelets were done way earlier than you had planned, ready to be tested. And the particles of sleep that were still lingering behind your eyes seemed to have vanished within seconds, replaced by the stomach-turning excitement as you got to your feet, the stool you were sitting on tumbling over. A smile cracked your stoic features, eyes widening as you carefully took one of the bracelets into your hand. 

"Nat!" You called her name out enthusiastically, the thrill of happiness rushing through your veins as you turned around, holding up the bracelet. "Nat, it's done! It's" - your voice caught in your throat when you saw that you were alone, no sign of the redheaded beauty anywhere in the vicinity, and when you finished your sentence, your voice was no longer filled with the rush of adrenaline - "done." You felt your shoulders slump in defeat, turning back to face the workbench as you chewed the inside of your cheek. She wasn't here. 

How long has it been? A day? Two? They blurred together, but you remember the last you saw of her, the anger and embarrassment mixing together at her rejection caused you to ask her to leave. But she knew you didn't mean it, right? She knew your words were only influenced by the hurt... right? Why is she still gone? You had demanded her departure before in a much harsher way and she came back within hours. 

You wanted to see her. You wanted to share the joy of completing another project. You wanted to see the proud smile on her face when you showed her. You wanted to feel her. You wanted her here. And you had an idea of how to achieve that. It worked before, it'll work again.

Grabbing the bracelets, you shoved them into your hoodie pocket as you left the barn. The house didn't seem to be lit up in the night, and you had hoped they were all asleep as you walked towards it. It'd be easier if you didn't have to face Laura or Clint, going in just to get the keys for their car. You didn't have the energy to walk all the way to the city tonight.

Much to your displeasure, you could hear the muffled noises coming from the TV in the other room when you walked through the door. You contemplated your choices for a moment. You could sneak, grab their keys and have the car back before they had any idea it was gone. Or you could just outright ask them to borrow their car. You figured it'd be better if you asked them. There’d be less guilt involved.

You shuffled towards the living room, suddenly feeling more anxious as you continued to get near. Though you had grown closer to Clint because of your job, you had always found a specific type of comfort in Laura you couldn't find in him. You figured it was just the motherly instinct she had developed after having kids. 

You stopped at the doorway, clearing your throat softly and hoping they heard it over the quiet TV. When they looked at you, making eye contact with the couple sitting on the couch, you were unexpectedly more fretful. You knew, without a doubt, that you did nothing to deserve their kindness. 

"Hey." Laura's voice was soft, welcoming. It made you feel more at ease almost instantly, your shoulders slouching with comfort as she smiled warmly at you. The concern you had felt vanished within one syllable. "How're you doing?"

"I'm okay," you said, your voice hushed. You stepped closer, suddenly aware of how heavy your hoodie pocket is becoming with the hidden bracelets. "I just… think it might be good for me to get out, take a drive around the city." You met Clint's stare and immediately looked away, already feeling the guilt begin to eat at you upon staring into his green irises. "Do you think that I could borrow the car?"

"Y/N-"

"Of course." Laura was quick to cut Clint off, causing you to pick your head up to meet her gaze. She was still smiling warmly, allowing you to breathe. Her hand rested on his shoulder, telling you that she used more than just her words to interrupt him. "On one condition."

You smiled widely, knowing it couldn't possibly be hard to do something in return for borrowing the car. "Yeah. Yeah, anything," you expressed enthusiastically, nodding quickly. 

"You eat something." You pursed your lips together as she stood up, giving her husband's hand a squeeze before leaving him on the couch. She gestured for you to follow her as she passed you, and you met Clint's eye one last time before you turned away. "You've been hiding in that barn for six days," she commented, motioning for you to sit at the table.

"Six days?" You sat down slowly, eyebrows furrowed intensely. 

"Every time I send one of the kids to bring you food, they'd come back with an untouched plate." You breathed out steadily, watching her reach into the fridge to pull out a plate. "I stopped sending them. Figured if you were hungry, you'd come to the house." She sent you a smile as she popped the food into the microwave. "Doesn't mean I stopped worrying."

"There's nothing to worry about," you assured gently, mirroring her smile, though you hoped she wouldn't see how the smile didn't meet your eyes. "I'm still the same ol' Y/N as I was before."

She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at you as she leaned against the counter next to the microwave. "You haven't had anything to eat in a week, Y/N," she pointed out. 

"I've been busy," you explained, shaking your head. 

You pursed your lips together, averting your gaze and tuning your ears to try and make out what the TV was saying, attempting to give yourself a reprieve from the tense silence. Laura watched you for a moment until the microwave released a beep, moving to give you the plate before pulling a chair out to join you at the table. She was intent on making sure you eat, giving you no choice if you wanted the car. You leaned forward, picking at the food in front of you.

"Thank you," you said quietly. You figured you'd have a few bites, eat enough to satisfy Laura, and then you'd be on your way - you couldn't delay seeing Natasha any longer - but the second your taste buds came into contact with the food, you were suddenly aware of how hungry you truly are. Laura couldn't hide her smile as she watched you become more confident in eating.

"So, what had you so busy that you couldn't eat?" She had an eyebrow raised when you looked over at her, your chewing slowing down as you straighten your posture.

You swallowed the mouthful of food before breathing out. "I was finishing a project," you told her. "I made Nat new bracelets. I added a new ability. She’s going to love them."

Laura's small smile slowly faded away when you turned back to your plate, nodding your head as you shoveled more food into your mouth. "When were you going to give her these bracelets?"

"Her birthday." Your answer was muffled through the food, to which you quickly chewed and swallowed to clear your mouth. You sent her a smile. "It's in a few months. I hope she’ll get a kick out of them. I added this sort of g-"

"How are you going to give them to her, Y/N?" Your eyes focused on Clint standing at the entrance of the kitchen behind Laura, his arms crossed over his chest tautly. 

Laura turned to face him in her chair as you slowly looked down, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Clint."

"I'm trying to help her move on."

"Move on?" You furrowed your eyebrows, looking back at him as anger rushed through your veins. You could feel the fury overwhelm your logical thoughts, the crease above your nose deepening with rage. "She didn't break up with me, Clint." His eyes softened, his shoulders slouching. You couldn't blame him for the anger he was feeling, but you weren't thinking about anything except the outrage. "I'm sorry I'm not a professional like you. I can't bury my feelings, pretend they don't exist." 

He took a step towards you, his arms uncrossing from his chest to fall back down to his sides. "Y/N-"

"I didn't ask for your help." You looked towards Laura, your jaw tightened as strong as a vise, your voice becoming softer. "Can I go?" It felt as if you were asking your mother permission to be excused from the table, seeing the way her eyes shined with worry as she nodded. "Thank you." You stood up abruptly, the chair you were sitting on scraping across the floor. You shrugged past Clint, grabbing the car keys and making your way out of the house.

You couldn't help it, pain scorching through your nerves as you banged your palm against the steering wheel. The scream that came from your chest tore your throat raw, breathing in deeply as a few hot tears escaped your eyes. You took a moment to calm down before starting the car and peeling out of the driveway.

The roads were just as vacant as the other night, which made driving around easier. Though it was a bit more difficult to see any crime when you're speeding by in a car and slowing down to get a better look could draw suspicion. It was always better to catch criminals off guard. You convinced yourself to park the car and take a walk around.

You knew the chances of finding another crime were low. It's not like the movies, there wasn't going to be one around every corner. This was real life, there weren't that many people without a conscience.

But as soon as you turned the corner, everything you had just thought was proven to be dead wrong.

You took the gauntlets out of your pocket, slipping them onto your wrists and securing them. You could feel the steady, subtle vibration of the electricity coursing through them when you powered them on, outlining an electric blue to show they were working. The bracelets brought adrenaline flowing through you, your posture straightening with confidence. 

You made your way down the sidewalk, a beeline right for the two people attempting to break into a home, one clawing at the front door as the other looked around for another way in, disappearing around the house. 

"What are you looking for?" you asked once you reached the burglar, their hands flying away from the window to face you. You saw a female in the streetlights, her arms lifting in the air in a surrender fashion. "I'm pretty sure breaking and entering is considered a crime."

She shook her head rapidly, her hands matching the pace as she stepped towards you. "No, no. I live here," she exclaimed. "This is my place. My idiot roommate locked us out." 

You furrowed your eyebrows, meeting her gaze in the artificial light. You weren't an expert at reading expressions, but you could tell by the desperation in her voice that she was telling the truth. You quickly apologized, powering down the bracelets and continued down the sidewalk, letting them handle their own problem.

Though you did keep your eye out for any sign of crime, you were also waiting for that empty feeling in your gut to be filled by Natasha's appearance. It was only a matter of time.

"Alright," you expressed quietly, your movements faltering to a stop. You threw your hands up in the air, having no idea how much time has passed since you've gone on your little neighborly patrol. You turned around, eyeing the vacant space around you. There was no sign of crime anywhere, and you were foolish enough not to keep track of all the turns you made to remember your way back to the car. You were lost…

Great.

You began scolding yourself for not paying attention on your outings with Clint's family when you came to visit. No, you spent the entire time mesmerized by Natasha. You spend every single second of the days with your redheaded girlfriend entranced in her beauty. You could be on fire and you wouldn't know if she was around. And the thought of that only made you fall to your knees, exhausted. 

You could feel the pit in your stomach grow, twisting and churning your insides painfully, as if someone were wringing a wet rag. You released a strained scream, tears threatening your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself. What did you do to deserve this agony? The scream wore down your throat until you couldn't scream anymore, the sound muffled and silent as you leaned forward to press your forehead to the cool concrete. The tears that escaped their prison when you squeezed your eyes shut burned your cheeks on the way down, hot with anguish. 

You were tired.

You were unsure of how long you had stayed in that position, the pain in your stomach having subsided what felt like forever ago. You had no motivation to uncurl yourself, but you were forced to when you felt a poke against your arm, sitting up straight and looking towards the person who had disturbed you… to see nothing but air. There wasn't a living being within a hundred yards of you. So what poked you?

There. You saw it. A flash of red hair illuminated by the streetlight above them just before they disappeared around the corner on the other side of the street. You could feel that pit of emptiness in your gut slowly fill, encouraging you to climb to your feet. There was only one person you knew who had red hair.

"Nat?" Your voice came out a soft whisper, no possible way for whoever had rounded the corner across the street would be able to hear you. The logical side of your brain - the one telling you that Natasha isn't the only person in the world with red hair and that whoever had passed by could've been quite literally anybody - was easily overpowered by your desire to see her again. You no longer hesitated to scramble after her.

She was already disappearing behind the building at the end of the street by the time you made it to the corner, a sigh escaping your throat as you made your way, chasing her with new vigor. You called out for her again, desperate to see her eyes just one last time. But you couldn't seem to catch up, turning a corner just in time to watch her disappear around another one. How far were you willing to go just to see the sea of green held in her eyes?

You didn't have time to answer the silent question. By the time you reached the end of the street, you stopped in your tracks. Though you weren't face to face with Natasha, you were presented with front-row seats in watching a crime unfold before your eyes.

You gathered yourself, sucking in a deep breath and standing tall. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears; now was not the time to show fear. Your stride was strong and confident, unwavering despite the tiny voice in the back of your head trying to scream at you to pull back. To turn around and hightail it back to the car - wherever the car is. But you shoved that voice away, deep into a small crevice of your brain as you marched forward.

There were five people, yet one of them was forced onto their knees, a knife pinned to their throat by one of the others. It was logical of you to believe that the woman on the ground was innocent, staring at the man in front of her with an anger you could see in her locked jaw. She was smart not to struggle, not with the blade pressed against her neck.

You inched closer, your heart continuing to beat rampantly against your ribcage. You could feel the nervous sweat on your palms, and your confident steps became less assured. But before you allowed your brain to convince yourself to turn back, your mouth was already forming words, "One against four? Well, I don't think that's very fair."

You're not really sure exactly how you managed not to show the fear in your voice, having said your silly little introduction with assertiveness. You were hoping your expression was doing just as well in hiding how terrified you were when all five people turned their attention to you. You were starting to worry when you could no longer hear your heart beating loudly in your ears. When you turned the bracelets on, you could feel the electricity vibrating against your skin. Yeah, you were still alive.

“This doesn’t pertain to you,” the man declared, stepping toward you, while the three you assume to be his partners, more men, stood their ground as they looked at you. The man holding the woman down kept his grip tight. “You might want to leave before you get hurt.” 

“Listen to him, Y/N.” You perked up at Natasha’s voice, loud and clear in your head, though nowhere near you when your eyes quickly roamed the area. Your first instinct was to listen to her, to turn around and leave the helpless woman to her fate, but you took a step forward regardless. No, hearing her wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to see her.

“Are you deaf?” the man declared through clenched teeth, watching you inch closer to him. “I said turn around and walk away or else.” He reached behind his back, pulling out a gun and flashing it at you. You had no choice but to halt your movements, with less than ten yards of space between you and him. He wasn’t aiming the gun, only showing it off, but you weren’t willing to take the chance. “Atta girl.” He sent you a toothy grin, proud of himself for finally getting you to cooperate. “Now, go back to where you came from. This is private business.” He waved the gun, gesturing for you to leave, but you didn’t. 

“Y/N.” Your head tilted at Natasha’s voice in your ears, chills crawling up your spine. “Please.” You were so close, you could feel it. There’s no use in turning back now.

You lifted your arm up, aiming the bracelet at the man. His grin grew wider, easygoing. He saw no threat in your glowing bracelets, and he saw no threat in you. He laughed, looking towards his partner as he pointed at you. And when he opened his mouth - presumably to make a joke about your so-called weapon - the only thing that came out was the screams of agony when you shot a taser disk at him. Only, it wasn’t the man wielding the gun who made the noise. It was the goon behind him. 

You really had to learn how to aim this thing. Natasha always made it look so easy.

The man looked back at his friend in time to watch him fall to the floor, blue sparks of electricity covering his body, before turning back to you, all humor on his face erased, replaced with pure anger. “What did you do?” he demanded. And though you missed your target, you couldn’t help but laugh at how incredibly well the bracelet works! A wide smile on your face as you looked down at your wrists for a moment.

“They work!” you announced proudly, picking your head up. The excitement didn’t last long when you made eye contact with the man… behind the barrel of the gun. You raised your hands up on instinct, your eyes wide as you saw the fire flicker in his.

“Did you kill him?” he questioned, angrier than before.

“No, no. He’s only unconscious,” you stated. “I swear, he’s breathing. Check his pulse.”

The man looked back at one of his friends and nodded his head. You watched with bated breath as he kneeled down next to the unconscious man, pressing his fingers against his neck. And when he nodded his head, you felt your stomach drop in realization. “You killed him.”

“No.” You shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I- I didn’t mean to. I must’ve gotten the voltage wrong.”

The man’s finger pressed firmly against the trigger, the gun aimed right at you, and you flinched when the gun went off, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you waited for the pain of being shot. It had to have been worse than getting kicked in the gut over and over, so why weren’t you feeling anything?

You couldn’t stop yourself from opening an eye out of curiosity, and you could feel your heart flutter when you opened them both to meet Natasha’s gaze. She had her hand wrapped around the man’s wrist, pushing his arm up to point the gun in the air, preventing the bullet from hitting you. You no longer felt any fear, watching Natasha take care of the man. Fists flew, and feet lifted off the ground. It was satisfying to watch, never having been able to witness firsthand the assassin in action. The men stood no chance, not being able to land a hit on the redhead, not even capable of seeing her with how fast she was moving. You were locked in a trance, so distracted by the way Natasha moved as fluidly as water that you didn’t even notice the woman you had saved sneak off. 

When it was all said and done, Natasha stood in the middle of three unconscious - and, unfortunately, one dead - men once again, and she was barely out of breath. You had a small sense of deja vu; only this time, you weren’t on the ground and in pain.

“That was awesome!” you expressed, walking towards her. She placed her hands on her hips, looking at you with a look of disapproval, but you managed to ignore it. “They didn’t even see you coming! How do you do that?”

“I told you to leave, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips together, the smile that had managed to grow on your face fading with realism. “I was never a very good listener, was I?”

“This is serious,” Natasha expressed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re going to get yourself hurt. What would you have done if I wasn't here in time?"

Get shot was the answer that was on the tip of your tongue, but you bit back. You really had no response to her question, knowing you should've listened to both her and the gunman. You could say the fear had cemented you to the ground, leaving you incapable of moving, which is the truth. But you also knew there was a part of you that wanted to stay, and you chose to listen to that instead. Now? Well, now you have to weasel your way out of a lecture from- Wait a damn minute…

“You are the one that led me here,” you countered. “Why would you bring me to the crime only for you to tell me to leave?” 

She sighed, taking a step towards you. "Go home, Y/N."

"Go home?" You furrowed your eyebrows, pursing your lips together as your head tilted slightly to the side. You couldn't help but laugh at the irony, the sound grim and dry as you were having trouble finding what was funny. And when you spoke, your voice held a hint of bitterness that wasn't at all subtle, "My home is dead. Yeah. Swan dived right off a damn cliff. Sound familiar?" 

"I wouldn't really call it a swan dive, per se." She sent you a smirk, an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

You stared at her, your stoic expression causing her small grin to fade away, before walking past her. You shook your head as you kneeled next to the man you had accidentally killed, pressing your fingers against his neck. You silently begged that the other man was fibbing, telling a lie just to get the action started, but your eyes closed slowly when you couldn't find what you were looking for. He was, in fact, dead. And you were the cause of it.

You felt sick.

"Why didn't you listen to me?" Natasha's voice reached your ears, her tone much softer and gentler than before. Less disappointed, more concerned. You opened your eyes and stood up, turning around to face her with a perplexed look. "That could've been avoided." She gestured to the deceased man behind you, and your jaw locked so tightly, you could've sworn you heard it click.

"Why did you listen to me?" you asked.

"You asked me to leave."

"I didn't mean it." You threw your hands up when you shrugged, hearing them slap against your legs when they fell back to your sides. "I didn't mean it, Nat." You could feel your bottom lip threaten to tremble, shaking your head as you sucked in a deep breath to try and prevent the sign of weakness. It didn't work. You had to force yourself to look away, turning to the side as your hands clenched into tight fists. Anger boiled your blood, yet sadness blurred your vision with unshed tears. You slightly flinched when you felt a hand fall onto your shoulder, as light as a feather. You breathed in deeply, releasing it slowly as you watched Natasha step in front of you, her second hand gripping your other shoulder. The next time you spoke, your voice was small, “I killed someone.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you have to leave,” she expressed. “You can’t stay here anymore. You have to go back to Barton.” You looked into her eyes, thriving on the softness and warmth you could find in the green irises, so distracted by the comfort that you had completely disregarded the way the side of her face was washed by a moving, yellow light. “Y/N, please, you need to go.”

You felt something grip your arm tightly, tugging you away from Natasha with a grunt. You looked forward, allowing the woman you had saved earlier drag you. Your mouth was glued shut with confusion, pulling you further and further as you sent a glance over your shoulder. Though Natasha was gone, you saw the fleet of vehicles pull up just before you had rounded a corner. When she finally released you, she turned to show you her face, an angry, puzzled look crossing her features. “Are you dense?” 

“...What?” 

“You didn’t hear those cars coming?”

You cleared your throat, snapping yourself out of your daze as you took a step back from her. Why was she so close? “No, I… didn’t.” You shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing as she rolled her eyes and started to walk away from you.

“Follow her.” You didn’t turn toward her voice, feeling her presence behind you as you watched the blonde walk away. You huffed lightly before following the redhead’s command, shuffling after the stranger quickly.

“Only reason I saved you is because you saved me,” she declared once she heard you catch up, maintaining your distance behind her. “Now, I don’t have a debt with a…” She stopped walking suddenly, and you had to catch yourself to prevent running into her. As she turned to face you, she looked you up and down with skepticism, an eyebrow raised dubiously. “Hey, how did you do that thing?”

“Don’t tell her.” Your lips formed a thin line at Natasha’s words, giving in to glance behind you. She stood there, sending daggers of cynicism at the blonde. When you turned back to look at her, her eyes just moved to meet yours.

You shrugged. “Do what thing?”

She squinted, crossing her arms over her chest as she measured you. “I can’t tell if you’re acting stupid or if you really are.” She shook her head, releasing a heavy sigh. “It’s really not that important to me.” She turned on her heels and continued her walk. “We can walk together for a few blocks just to be safe, then we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Hey, so, what did you do to piss those guys off?” Not that it was hard to. Less than two minutes and the one dude pulled a gun on you. She probably called him stupid, too. That most likely would’ve done it. 

“I said we can walk together,” she declared. “I didn’t say we can talk.” You breathed out softly, looking down at the bracelets wrapped around your wrists. It wasn’t much longer before she let out a heavy sigh and said, “I stole something from them.”

“What’d you steal?”

“A flash drive,” she answered, her head straight forward. You watched the back of her head, the way her long hair swayed with every step she took. 

“They’re after you for a flash drive?”

“That’s the least of your concerns,” she said. “They’re after you now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling confusion bring a wave of fog to your brain for a moment. “For what?”

“You ask that as if you didn’t just murder one of them.” You could feel your heart drop into your stomach like it was jumping off a diving board at her words, bringing back the realization that, yes, you did actually just kill someone. And his friends may have painted a target on your back because of it. “Are you done with the twenty questions now?”

“Ask her what was on the drive.”

Your head turned towards Natasha. “No.” The woman stopped walking again, turning around to face you as her arms went up in annoyance. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you cleared your throat, gripping your hips with your hands as you sent the woman a sheepish smile. “Uh… what- What was on the drive?”

“A bunch of files maybe, I don’t know,” she expressed, shrugging. “I was hired to steal it. I don’t ask my client questions.”

“I mean, aren’t you a little bit curious as to what’s on the drive?”

She stared at you, blinking as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, uh…”

“Y/N.”

“I didn’t ask.” She smiled at you, but there was a hint of irritation behind the forced grin. “As long as I get my money, I couldn’t really care less what’s on the drive.”

“You don’t really believe her, do you, Y/N?” You breathed out, watching Natasha move to stand to the side, her eyes remaining on the stranger carefully. 

"I don't know." It was said instinctively, earning a confused look from the lady. There was a part of you that wanted to believe her, there was another part - that part primely being called Natasha - was fully skeptical of the blonde. You were unsure of which to listen to. 

"You don't know?" She scoffed, and her response to your statement made you think that she had asked you something you didn't hear over Natasha's voice. She breathed out slowly, trying to keep her temper together as she squeezed the bridge of her nose.

"No, I- I wasn't talking to you." You shook her head as she removed her hand from her face, looking at you.

"Then who were you talking to?"

"Don't tell her, Y/N."

"Not you," you answered.

"There's nobody else here," she countered. “Who is it?”

"She's getting too jumpy. I don't like it."

"Shut up." The woman looked offended for a brief moment at your command, causing your eyes to widen. "No, no. Not- Not you." You cast your gaze towards Natasha, who met yours in return, giving her a look that you hoped she'd listen to. 

"Are you crazy?" You turned back to the woman to catch her slightly leaning towards you. 

"Y/N, just leave."

"No." You groaned in frustration.

The woman hummed. "I don't believe that."

You looked at Natasha. "You need to go, Y/N."

"You're talking to someone who isn't here." The blonde’s voice pulled your gaze back to her.

You averted your eyes to the ground, running your hands down your face. "Don't listen to her."

"It's just the two of us-"

"Y/N-"

“-for now.”

"-run away."

“I'm sure we'll be joined soon by the people we both crossed.”

"Both of you shut up!" Your hands flew away from your face as you picked your head up, looking at Natasha, then the blonde. You breathed out, shaking your head as the woman stared at you, and you felt yourself grow smaller underneath her analyzing eyes. She was measuring you once again, clearly trying to figure out if you were going to be a threat to her or not. But when you took a step back, her posture relaxed just a bit.

"You are crazy."

"I'm not crazy," you stated lowly, shaking your head.

"You're seeing someone who isn't there," she pointed out. "If that's not the textbook definition of crazy, I don't know what is." She watched you turn your head, and her eyes followed yours only to find an empty space. "You need to go home, Y/N."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but she's right."

"Maybe get some help." You looked back at the woman, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "Whatever you're going through, the pain will go away." 

Her movement was hesitant, but she finally managed to give in and rest a hand on your shoulder. Giving you an encouraging yet semi-awkward squeeze, she turned on her heels and walked away, watching her walk down an alley.

You didn't follow her.

“You need to stop planting doubt in my head, Nat,” you expressed as you marched forward. “Your inability to trust people is contagious.”

“You need to learn that not everybody is your friend,” she explained, easily matching your stride as you continued down the sidewalk. “There are some people who only look out for themselves, and most people won’t protect a stranger. Which is what she is to you.”

“She did save me from a bunch of people I didn’t see coming because I was a little bit distracted by a certain green-eyed redhead.”

“She said it herself,” Natasha responded with a scoff, “she only saved you because you saved her. Now she doesn’t care about you anymore. Not the way I do.”

“No, Nat, because you care about me oh so much that you just couldn’t wait to leave me all alone.” You breathed out a heavy sigh as you stopped walking, turning to face her as you pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger. “Look, I really don’t want to fight.” You didn’t want to risk saying something to make her disappear for an extended amount of time again. This version of her seemed sensitive to your words, though which ones, you were still figuring that out. “I need you with me. You clearly get me out of situations-”

“You shouldn’t be finding yourself in,” she finished. “Y/N, if you had listened to me-”

“Then that man would still be alive.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Save the speech, Nat, I know what I’m doing.” You shook your head, scoffing as you started walking once more. “I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

“How do you throw a punch then?” You found yourself stopping again, turning around to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Come on, you said you’re more than capable of handling yourself. Surely you know how to throw a punch then.” She closed the distance between you, standing within arm's length away. Her hands extended out to her sides, palms towards you, as she said, “Hit me.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I’m not going to hit you.”

“Hit me, Y/N.”

“Nat, no.”

Her movement was quick, her hand pushing against your shoulder, but it only pulled an exasperated sigh from your throat as her arms fell back to her sides. “Just hit me.”

“There’s no reason for me to-”

“Hit. Me.”

“Stop it. I’m not going to-” You stepped back at the impact of her hand against your shoulder once more, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “Nothing you do is going to make me-”

“Y/N-”

“No-”

“Throw a-”

“I’m not going to-”

“Hit me!” Your arm swung involuntarily, your teeth gritting tightly, and you surely would've hit her jaw if she hadn't pulled back an inch. She could only seem to smile as you huffed out in aggravation. “Good. Now, your posture is off just a little bit-”

With a shake of your head, you turned your back on her and started to walk away. “I’m not going to accept fighting lessons from you right now.” Your eyes burned as you instinctively squeezed them shut, feeling the adrenaline slowly start to wear off as you walked. “We just need to find the truck and head back to the house otherwise they’re not going to let me borrow it anymore and then we’ll have to just keep walking to the city.”

“Or,” Natasha started, “you could, you know, not put your life at risk every night.”

“I really don’t see that happening any time soon if I’m being honest with you.”

“You’re not Batman, Y/N.”

“Batman?” You scoffed a laugh. “That’s a comic book character, Nat. He isn’t real.”

You could hear her chuckle from behind you, and the sound alone managed to flip your stomach. “You’re saying you don’t believe in Batman?” You couldn’t help but smile as she laughed again. “You do remember what your job was, right? Building tech for heroes… such as Batman.”

“I didn’t build anything for Batman,” you corrected. “I built stuff for other people, like Hawkeye and Captain America. Sometimes even this cocky assassin that chose to go by Black Widow. Never Iron Man, although he did take my ideas to improve on them.” You huffed, shaking your head as you swiped your arms through the air. “Alright, just- Enough with the Batman. He isn’t real, end of story. Help me find the truck.”

“Just keep going straight.”

You followed her command and let the silence of the night settle over the two of you. It gave you time to think, to process what exactly had gone down. You killed a man, that tidbit of information wasn’t going to be leaving you any time soon. You couldn’t help but wonder just how many lives have been taken because of the equipment you supplied these heroes. Natasha wasn’t hesitant to take a life, and neither was Clint. But it was never you pulling the trigger like now. You took that man’s last breath. You had to get back to the house and fix the bracelets. You don’t want a replay of what happened tonight. You don’t want to take another man away from his family… if he had one.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about.” You couldn’t help but snap at her, your eyes forward as your jaw clenched. Your head shook, your lips pursing together tightly as you trudged onward. Find the truck, go back to Clint’s. That’s all you needed to do. But you could sense her eyes staring at the back of your head, radiating judgment and conjecture. Your heart ran rampant against your ribcage, and you could feel that last thread of sanity slowly coming apart. You stopped walking, turning around to face her. “Please, Nat, tell me how to fix this.”

She breathed out, her shoulders slumping as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her green eyes were sparkling and it made you feel like you weren’t so crazy after all. “You can’t, my love.” Your chin dropped to your chest in defeat, rubbing the back of your neck as your eyes squeezed shut. Exhaustion was one of the many things you were feeling right now. “The only thing you can do is keep moving forward.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You picked your head up to look at her, your arm falling back to your side as your lips formed a thin, tight line. Your eyes met hers, but you didn’t feel the relief those emeralds usually held. “What if I just want to… I want to quit.”

“Y/N-”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head rapidly. “I don’t want to move forward anymore, Nat.”

“You can’t live in the past forever.”

“Why not?” you questioned. “You’re there.” And being with Natasha is the only thing you know. You scoffed, shaking your head. “She said the pain would go away. That woman. But… she didn't know what it meant to be here without you.”

She looked at you, a sigh slightly parting her lips. 

“You know, I can’t understand you,” you admitted. “One second, you’re telling me that you’re real. Another second, you’re claiming you’re dead and that I need to just move on. Which is it, Nat? Are you dead or are you alive? And why can I see you and- and feel you? Because you… jumped off a cliff to sacrifice yourself for- for some stone and you didn’t come back. You didn’t come back, Nat.”

“Baby-”

“No!” You took a step away from her, shaking your head. “No. I’m not- I’m not crazy. Out of the entire team, I was the only one that was sane! I mean… Tony and Bruce made an artificial killing machine. You and Clint went headfirst into an alien battle with nothing but a pistol and a damn bow. You all went to war over a stack of papers! I was the only one who was logical! Who made any kind of sense! And now…” You trailed off, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth as you shook your head once again, looking into the eyes of an illusion. “Everybody else is saner than I am.”

“You’re not crazy, Y/N.”

“Says my dead girlfriend.”

“I’m here for a reason.” She took a step towards you, her hands twitching to reach for you, but they remained by her sides. “I’m here to help you process everything that’s happening. I show up at the times you need me the most.”

“You’re a figment of my imagination,” you countered. “You’re a hallucination conjured up by my mind to help me cope with this grief because I just can’t accept the fact that you’re gone, Nat.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, placing your hands on your hips as you breathed in a shaky breath.

"Why are you so much more reckless now than you were when I was here?" She raised an eyebrow, challengingly, as a smirk lifted her lips. "Where was this Y/N before?" She poked your side teasingly, but you quickly swatted her away.

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking a small step back from her. "I'm still me."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Come on, Y/N," she countered. "You're running head first into danger. You're telling people how you feel- How you really feel. You weren't doing that a month ago. What? Did my death finally pull you out of your shell?"

"Shut up," you snapped. But your attempt to be dominant didn’t get very far when she laughed at your demand; a low chuckle that caused her to shake her head slowly. You huffed, annoyed that she clearly wasn’t taking you seriously. Annoyed that she was going to continue to patronize you no matter what you say. Annoyed that her smile still caused the butterflies to get antsy in your stomach. You sighed softly, feeling your shoulders slump as you stepped toward her. “I wish we never answered that call,” you whispered, reaching for her hand to bring it in between yours. You savored the warmth of her touch, looking down at them as you allowed the feeling to calm your nerves.

“You don’t mean that.”

“No,” you countered, “I do. We were happy, Nat. Sure, half the world had dusted away, but we were happy. And then… your phone rang. I saw Tony's name…” You scoffed, shaking your head as you looked up to meet her gaze. "If I could go back, I wouldn't have answered the phone. I would've done whatever it took for you to not die because the whole world believes you're dead when you're just really good at lying."

She crossed an arm across her chest, her eyes soft as she watched you carefully. Her lips formed a thin line, yet she didn't seem to be hurt by your accusation. In a world where she's only visible to the one who held her in their heart, she had to give you free passes. "I thought you were past this stage," she commented. "Then again, grief isn't really linear." Your chin fell to your chest, pressing her knuckles against your lips.

“I wouldn’t have answered the phone…” You remembered as if it was yesterday, but your memories soon became clouded with panic when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your neck, your hands clawing at their elbow as their grip tightened. You looked at Natasha, her emerald eyes gazing at you as she watched you struggle against the hostile party.

“This is for your own protection.” A voice, a familiar voice, whispered in your ear as your fight became futile. And, as you fell into the bottomless pit of darkness, you saw the headlights of a car turn the corner at the end of the street.

━━━━━���━━━━━━━━⧗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The darkness was accepted, holding a comfort that helped you relax. You needed this. Serenity was hard to find when all you've been experiencing the past few days was nothing but stress. It calmed you down and loosened the tense pressure that had formed in your muscles. Sleeping held the same sensation as it would if one were being hugged.

But you knew this situation wasn't permanent. The darkness, as always, was only temporary. You have to enjoy it while you can, this state of tranquility, before it comes to be interrupted by the world of light. Yet it didn't last as long as you had originally hoped - the feeling of something gliding across your cheek was slowly bringing you out of this slumber. 

Your face automatically twitched away from the touch, and a peal of light laughter fanning against your ear was the cause of your consciousness. The slight pressure returned to your face, leaving a faint tingling sensation in its path, and you had to find the will to open your eyes if you wanted to locate the reason for the disturbance. But… the touch was warm. It held more comfort than the darkness ever could. And the laugh, it had brought chills to your spine. You knew who it was and it was the exact reason why you didn't want to open your eyes knowing this feeling could end, and you'd only find yourself alone in a partially empty bed.

"Wake up, Y/N." But she felt so real, her lips grazing against your earlobe, her finger sliding up and down your cheek. 

"Five more minutes." She laughed at your mumbled response, a cliche request for more sleep. Nobody ever let it fall through, and it certainly wasn't going to happen now. She seemed so adamant about you waking up, and you wondered why.

"We have a lot to do today, darling." You would be a fool to fall for this trick again, but you had to open your eyes and face reality eventually. 

You breathed out, feeling your gut twist uncomfortably as your eyes slowly fluttered open. You turned your head and felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest when you made eye contact with Natasha, her green eyes shining brighter than ever as a smile lit up her features.

"There you are," she whispered, poking your nose quickly before pulling her hand away. "It feels like you've been asleep forever."

Your mouth propped open, but you couldn't seem to find your voice. The feeling of deja vu seemed to wash over you, but your eyes were glued onto Natasha's smiling face. You couldn't look away even if you wanted to - not that you wanted to. This moment, this was real. You could feel it. 

Was everything all just a dream?

You lifted your arm, gently placing your palm against her cheek and your heart skipped a beat when she leaned into your touch. You didn't waste a second, leaning forward to press your lips against hers in a desperate kiss, urgently deepening it as you pulled her closer to you. You could feel the moment your soul felt whole again. Though your eyes were closed, you could feel the tears slip through and make their way down your cheeks, the sob escaping your chest caused her to pull away from you, her eyebrows pinched in concern as your chin fell.

"Baby? Baby, what's wrong?" She swiped at your forehead with one hand, her other hand lifting your chin to get a better look at your face. "Come on, detka, you know you can tell me anything. What happened?"

But you only shook your head, resting your forehead against hers as you breathed her in. "I really love you."

She laughed gently, it managed to soothe you as the sobs racking your chest settled down. "I love you," she returned, smiling softly. "Are you sure you're all right? Was it a bad dream?" You nodded into her, letting your eyes fly close. "It's okay," she whispered softly, a sound that automatically placed you into serenity. "It wasn't real."

"I was scared."

Her lips formed a brief frown, but she was quick to recover. She pulled away from you, stroking your cheek with her thumb as she said, "I know what'll make you feel better."

You opened your eyes, meeting her gaze only to be overwhelmed with a comfort the ghost version of Natasha couldn't reach. "What?"

"A nice, warm shower," she offered, her voice low as she moved her hand down to grip the back of your neck, "and a fulfilling breakfast." Her lips grazed across yours when she tugged you to her, feeling your breath hitch in your throat at the closeness. A ball of heat formed in your gut as you yearned for her touch, tilting your chin up in an attempt to catch her lips in yet another passionate kiss, but she only pulled away from your efforts.

You collapsed back onto the bed with a huff, your head falling into the pillows as she laughed. 

"I'll start the shower," she offered, finding your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. "Hopefully you'll be joining me in a moment." You watched as she climbed out of the bed, sending you a sly wink before vanishing into the bathroom.

Her disappearance gave you a moment to look around, and the feeling of deja vu had only grown stronger when you realized where you were. You were home. Having moved away from New York, convincing Natasha to hang up her batons and retire after the Blip. Finding a cozy little house in a nice neighborhood. Happiness, despite the circumstances, was the only thing you had felt during this time. And to see that her death was only a dream comforted you. It wasn't real. You weren't living in an old barn. You weren't seeing an illusion of Natasha summoned up by your grief-stricken brain.

You took the moment to relax. Everything you had thought you knew was all a nightmare. A seemingly never-ending nightmare. And now you were awake, and it was all going to be shoved into the back of your mind. You were going to enjoy reality with your girlfriend.

A ringing interceded your thoughts for a brief moment, pulling your attention to the nightstand opposite yours. Natasha’s phone. And, stretching your neck to get a view of the caller ID, you felt your stomach drop at Tony’s name.  You had a sneaking feeling that you knew exactly what he wanted, not having any contact with anybody from SHIELD since the fall of humanity years ago, and you remembered all too well in your nightmare about the what-if. You had answered the phone, you had admitted to Natasha exactly what the billionaire wanted despite everything in your bones telling you not to. She gave in, packed her bags and moved back to New York with you in tow. Given the chance to fix a “mistake,” you knew she was going to take it.

You ignored the call this time, sending it to voicemail before completely shutting the phone down. “Who was it?” Her voice could be heard over the water coming from the bathroom, and you chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment before giving her an answer.

“Wrong number.”

That was it. She didn’t question it further, she had no reason to. She wasn’t expecting a random call from Tony Stark. She had stopped expecting those calls years ago. And you knew they’d be perfectly fine solving this problem without her. There were still people left to help them, they could call any of them. Right now, you were going to enjoy this fix in time. Natasha didn’t have to die. And you didn’t have to lose your entire world. 

“Are you coming?”

Everything was right in the universe again.

But when your surroundings changed as your eyes opened, you found yourself confused and, ultimately, disappointed. Laying on a bench in a holding cell at the police station, you were forced to sit up when you met eyes with a large, scary-looking man who was a bit too close to you. 

Did the cops find the body? Traced it back to you and scooped you up off the sidewalk after forcefully succumbing to unconsciousness by an unknown assailant. Though now would probably be a decent time to start panicking - you're in jail for murder, what would Clint and Laura think now - you couldn't really bring yourself to get into that state of mind. It seems that you have fully given in to whatever the world has to offer you.

You rested your head against the wall, releasing a sigh as you closed your eyes once more, desperate to go back to Wonderland. You knew there was no use. You knew it was too good to be true. You did answer that phone call from Tony. You did tell Natasha what he had wanted. You did move back to New York to help the world just one. Last. Time. Only it really was one last time because you no longer had the motivation to help the thing that took her away from you.

“It was nice while it lasted, wasn’t it?” Your eyes opened, slowly turning your head to look at Natasha, who had settled onto the bench next to you. You breathed out deeply as you returned your head forward, allowing your eyes to close once again. “A world of what ifs.”

“Can you please not be your usual snarky self right now? I'm too tired.” You were unsure how long you've been out for, but you do know it wasn't long enough. 

Natasha sighed. “You don’t know how you ended up in jail, do you?”

“Not a clue,” you confessed.

“What do you remember?”

You opened your eyes, looking at her once more. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” 

She shrugged. "I'm usually in need of answers."

You huffed when she shook her head, that signature smirk of hers twitching her lips. You leaned forward, resting your elbows against your knees as you looked through the bars of the cell, watching the people in blue scurry through the room. “I remember being choked. A voice. A car. And then blackness.”

“Who’d the voice belong to?”

You fought against the mugginess happening in your brain, forcing yourself to remember. “I’m doing this for your own protection.” It was a familiar voice. Not one you’ve grown accustomed to, but one that was still fresh on your mind at the time.

“The woman.” You took a shot in the dark, there isn’t really any other way for it to be someone else.

“Right.” Natasha leaned forward to look at your face. “And then what?”

“Nat-”

“Who’d the car belong to?”

You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t remember, that was the part you had blacked out. “I was out of it at that point. How could I remember that?”

“Just think, Y/N.”

“I am thinking.” You looked towards the other occupants of the cell - the “no personal space” man from earlier was eyeing you like you were nuts (which, to be fair, you totally are), and the others seemed to be too out of it to give you any care. You turned away, burying your face in your hands as you tried to think. You lowered your voice to whisper to Natasha, “I can’t remember what I can’t see.”

“You did see it, Y/N.” She crouched down in front of you, gently tugging your hands away from your face so she could look into your eyes. She smiled at you softly, and you hated how easily you lost yourself in those pools of emeralds. "Just not the way you think." She rested her arms against your knees, her hold on your wrists gentle, bringing a comfort that nearly reached serenity. "Close your eyes and think."

A deep, heavy breath parted your lips as you slowly nodded, allowing your eyes to flutter close at Natasha's command. Your body relaxed under her touch as your mind wandered back to what had happened, darkness engulfing you in a tight hold. No, you didn't see what happened, but just because you didn't have your vision doesn't mean you didn't have your other senses. You could still feel the woman's arms wrapped around your neck, you could still smell the outside air, and you could hear the sirens.

"Cops." Your eyes flew open, and you grinned when Natasha nodded in approval. "It was a cop car. She-" Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and the redhead in front of you watched with bated breath as you tried to piece it together in your mind. "She called the cops on us? But why?" For your own protection? That's what she had said, but what did she mean by it?

Were you going to get caught? The man you had killed, the men Natasha had attacked, their gang would surely see to it that you would end up in a grave as well. No doubt they would have searched the perimeter for you and her, but it wasn't them who found you. It was the police. 

"I was too busy talking to you to keep moving," you pointed out. "She called the police on us to save us." You sat up, a small smile lifting your lips. “She saved us, Nat. Again. This just goes to show that your whole trust issue is moot.”

She sat next to you as you leaned against the wall, turning your head to look at her with a beaming grin. She released a gentle laugh, mirroring your stance. You reached for her, intertwining your fingers through hers as a soft breath parted your lips. Your thumb skated across the top of her hand as you stared into her hypnotizing eyes, your gut twisting and turning with warmth. You knew you could sit here all day with her, mesmerized by her. How the light slipping through the barred window above you cast a brilliant glow on her face, how the feeling of her felt as genuine as the dream you had, how your heart crawled up to your throat with happiness that you thought it might just explode. Sure, you were in a holding cell - presumably under the guise that you were just another bum on the street - but you were content. Because she was here, and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Y/N!” The loud voice pulled you out of your daze suddenly, turning toward the source to see a towering police officer at the entrance to the cell. “You’re free to go.” The keys jangled in his hands as he worked to unlock the door, and you were on your feet within seconds to make your way out of this prison. He guided you to the entrance, the bubbles in your chest immediately dissipating at the sight of Clint standing in the lobby the moment you turned the corner.

Dread covered your body head to toe as he uncrossed his arms from his chest to rest his hands on his waist when he spotted you. It was the cliche disappointed father stance. It didn’t go unnoticed by the entire police station, eyes lingering on the two of you as you stepped up to him. Your lips were pursed together, your fingers twiddling with each other as you anticipated the lecture you were bound to receive one of these days, but you were pulled out of that state of mind when his arms wrapped around you to bring you against his body in a tight hug. Yet it was a brief one, pulling away quickly as he cleared his throat.

“Come on.” He nodded his head for you to follow him out of the doors, but you felt yourself stagger when your eyes landed on a piece of paper pinned to the community bulletin board. Your brows knitted tightly together with confusion, your heart stopping in your chest as your mind tried to work out exactly what you were looking at. 

“Rogers?�� You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the poster, the silhouette of Captain America burning memories into your mind that caused your stomach to turn upside down. You felt someone bump against your shoulder as they stood next to you, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Natasha. “Why would they…”

“Everybody loves musicals.” Her voice was low, but you could detect a hint of amusement in her tone. 

“Y/N-” Clint traced back to you not long after he realized you had stopped, and released a hefty sigh. He didn’t hesitate to rip it off of the board, crumpling it in his fist and tossing it into a nearby trashcan before guiding you out of the building.

The ride home seemed to drag as you anticipated the lecture you had expected back at the precinct. Though he has yet to say anything since he got into the car, and you were pretty sure this was worse than being scolded. The silence seemed to suffocate you, pressing against your chest with extraordinary strength as you couldn’t seem to keep your knee still. Your eyes were glued to the window, but you’d catch yourself glancing at him every now and again.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t he expressing his disappointment? His anger? Maybe he was trying to figure out what to say. How to say it? Was he just refusing to talk to you now? Maybe he was too disappointed to conjure up the appropriate words. Too angry to put his thoughts into sentences. You couldn’t handle it. He was too quiet and you hated it.

“Calm down.” You felt your entire body relax at her voice, releasing a low breath as your knee finally stopped bouncing. “Ask him.” But you shook your head, pursing your lips together as you glanced at him in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t be the first one to break the silence. You needed him to speak before you. “Just ask him.”

“Are you angry?” The words came out of your mouth before you really had time to process much of anything.

“No.” It was a curt answer, and it told you not to push any further…

“Disappointed?” He breathed out deeply through his nose as he shook his head. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you, Y/N?” He glanced at you briefly before returning his stare to the road. “You’re acting irrationally. Getting yourself in trouble with not only the police but criminals as well.”

You shifted your gaze downward as Clint spoke, your eyes focusing on your hands. The intertwining of your fingers against your lap captivated your attention, a silent witness to the aftermath of the adrenaline that had coursed through your veins. The weight of the events from the previous night settled on your shoulders - the undeniable truth that you had taken a life. Whether intentional or not, the man’s family would never see his smile again. Hear his voice. Feel the joy of her laughter. Experience the warmth in the pit of your stomach when she brings your face between her hands to guide your lips to hers…

You quickly realized your thoughts were veering off-topic. 

Clint, silent beside you, kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Fatigue and defeat etched across his face. While you were grappling with the loss of Natasha, you acknowledged that he, too, was deeply affected. His ability to tuck away his emotions surpassed yours, and it struck you as unfair that he consistently played the role of a life buoy, keeping you afloat when he, too, needed support. He witnessed his best friend’s death, and there lingered an undeniable sense that he bore a burden of guilt, a weight he concealed with practiced skill.

Speak up. Say anything. Apologize. Let him know he’s not alone. It was your turn to be the buoy…

You turned your head to peer out the window when words failed you. 

The entire inside of your body seemed to freeze when the face of the life you had taken flashed before your eyes, standing on the side of the road as he watched you drive by. You quickly averted your gaze back to the windshield, a tight pressure forming in your chest, mirroring the grip on the handle above you. Despite your efforts to push that haunting moment from your mind, it persistently crept back, an unwelcome ghost.

An engineer by trade, you had always remained indoors, immersed in creating your next ingenious invention while professionals like Natasha and Clint dealt with the harsh realities of the world outside. The field was foreign to you, just as this feeling.

“Clint?” Your voice, soft and warm, broke the silence in the vehicle. He didn’t respond with words, but a low hum conveyed that he heard you. “You’ve taken lives before, haven’t you?” In your peripheral vision, you sensed his head move, but nervousness held you back from meeting his gaze, even briefly, as he returned his attention to the road. “How did you cope with your first kill?”

For a moment, there was only the hum of the engine and the faint whistle of the wind against the windows. You wondered if he was ignoring you, if the question was too much, too personal. Maybe it was cruel to ask him something like that - like pulling open an old wound just to see how deep it really went.

Then, he exhaled, long and slow. “You don’t,” he said finally. His voice was even, but there was a weight to it, something heavy and worn. “You don’t get over it. You just learn to live with it.”

Your fingers curled into your lap. That wasn’t the answer you wanted.

“But what if I can’t?” You didn’t mean to sound so small, but the words left you in a whisper.

Clint let the silence stretch between you, and when he spoke again, it was quieter, “Then you find a way. Or it eats you alive.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your bones. The ghost of last night still clung to you, the blood on your hands something you could still feel even though… there wasn’t technically any blood.

“Was it always like that for you?”

This time, Clint hesitated. “No.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to glance at him. His jaw was tight, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

“But it got easier?” you asked.

He let out a humorless breath. “No. You just get used to carrying it.”

That terrified you more than anything.

You turned your gaze back to your lap, your fingers twisting together as if you could wring the unease from your body. The thought of carrying this weight forever - of never truly letting it go - made your chest tighten. You weren’t built for this. You weren’t like Clint, like Natasha, like any of them. You were just a damn engineer, someone who made things to help people - not to kill them.

And yet, here you were.

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, the rhythmic click of the turn signal filling the silence between you. You could feel Clint’s gaze flicker toward you, his quiet observation pressing against the side of your face like a weight you refused to acknowledge.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

Your fingers curled in your lap, nails pressing into your palms.

“Talk to him, Y/N,” Natasha’s voice ghosted through your mind, soft yet firm, like a steady hand on your shoulder. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t have to. She was there, in the hollow of your chest, in the spaces between each ragged breath.

She was right.

But the words wouldn’t come.

You shook your head, barely moving. “No.”

Clint didn’t argue. He just nodded, his hands tightening slightly on the wheel before he turned back to the road.

The light changed. The car surged forward.

The road ahead stretched long and empty, but your mind was still trapped in that moment - frozen in the deafening stillness that followed the shot. The weight of the bracelets on your wrists. The final exhale of a life you could never take back. The way his body crumpled, like a marionette with its strings severed.

You swallowed hard, nausea curling deep in your stomach.

Clint must have noticed because he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look… I don’t have the right words to make this easier for you,” he admitted. “I wish I did.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s not your job to fix me.”

“No,” he agreed, “but it’s my job to make sure you don’t drown.”

You turned towards the window, your reflection faint in the glass, eye shadowed and hollow. “You don’t have to do that,” you murmured.

He let out a breath, a little wry, a little sad. “Yeah,” he said, “I do.”

And the worst part?

You believed him.

A sharp exhale left you, but it did nothing to loosen the tangled mess inside your head. Your thoughts crackled and sparked, a mess of wires threatening to short-circuit entirely. You had to talk. You had to let this out before it swallowed you whole. But how the hell do you open up about something like this?

You stared down at your lap, at the way your fingers twisted together, as if trying to hold yourself by sheer force. The words were right there, burning the back of your throat, but every time you tried to pull them free, they tangled - knotted tight with guilt, fear, regret.

Clint didn’t push. He just drove, steady and silent, his presence a quiet anchor. But the weight of unspoken things sat between you, thick and suffocating, like even the air was waiting for you to break.

“Just say something, Y/N,” Natasha’s voice whispered, gentle but insistent. “Anything.”

You closed your eyes, willing the world to slow down, to make sense. But it didn’t. It never did. Not anymore.

Clint’s voice cut through the silence, calm and even. “Start anywhere,” he said. “Doesn’t have to make sense.”

Your grip tightened, knuckles aching. The car felt too small, too suffocating. Your lungs felt full of smoke, your heart pounding against the weight of something too bit to hold.

A breath, sharp and unsteady, left you.

And then, barely more than a whisper—

“I messed up, Clint…”

Chapter 3

[cartoon-buffoon]

I decided to read the Epic Mickey graphic novel—which by the way it's just chilling on the Internet Archive? Like you can read it at any time and I'd highly recommend doing so—but I noticed something very interesting in regards to the heart and the entire real plot point of Epic Mickey. I LOVE over analyzing stupid meaningless things in relation to my favorite characters so this is another stupid rant, sorry if someone has analyzed this before me it's just a neat thing I noticed.

WARNING: rant by someone who hasn't played Epic Mickey properly, sorry if the game contradicts whatever I say somehow. Also SPOILERS for the Epic Mickey graphic novel, I'd recommend reading it yourself because it's pretty cool.

Okay I'm aware the heart is a metaphor for fame, yeah the toons stuck in wasteland are stuck there because they are forgotten. However one thing I find interesting however is how the heart seemingly changes a toon's personality as well? It's for like a single panel where they show the heart does more for the toons than allowing passage in and out of wasteland. It at least affects them in some way.

This is right after Mickey gave up his heart to save Gus and Oswald who the blot had grabbed, now up until this point Mickey was very happy go lucky. Until his heart was stolen, and he suddenly lashes out at Oswald?

This is really random and out of character from what we've seen until now and in fact Mickey himself seems like he's aware he's not acting himself. As soon as the heart gets stolen we see Mickey who is generally jokey and happy suddenly get mad and outright confrontational. Look at how he gets up in Ozzie's face! Now Oswald did have a reason to be mad at Mickey, his reason was TOTALLY justified and idc if it was an accident Oswald had all the right to mistreat Mickey for ruining wasteland and killing his wife. Yet Mickey always just took on the chin, he felt remorseful yeah yet he just kinda took the insults, this is the first case of Mickey fighting back and Oswald wasn't even insulting him!

Later on when using the rocket we also see Mickey start writing his will when the plan to self destruct the rocket starts going up in flames.

Although comedic and funny this is pretty fucking grim if you look at the fact that he's just casually preparing for his death. After the rocket crashes we also see him give Oswald some slack and make a snarky remark.

Now not exactly out of character for Mickey to be funny it's still interesting how his way of being funny in this instance is taking a small jab at Oswald's piloting skills.

Later on we also see Mickey get serious and be really aggressive when fighting the blot.

Now this could just be of course Mickey deciding to right his wrongs and taking things serious, but I find it interesting that this comes AFTER he loses the heart.

This spring of sudden aggressiveness only awakens after he loses his heart and we see from the panel right after he loses it and Mickey seems dazed and discombobulated. AND THEY JUST GRAZE OVER THIS DETAIL! "I just... Feel so..." AND THEN BOOM! The comic just goes "alright keep it going, move the plot along we only got so many pages" and nothing comes of this. They never clarify what Mickey is feeling, this detail is just passed over, yet it seemingly affects the way Mickey acts for the rest of the comic (or at least until he gets his heart back). What I find so fascinating about this is Oswald and his character, we see him be pretty dynamic and go through a character arc, we learn he has resented Mickey and he built a eutopia for him and other forgotten toons until Mickey ruined it with the tinner. From there his resentment turned to full on rage due to his grief of not only losing his world yet also his wife, yet we see when Mickey tries to right his wrongs Oswald comes to realize Mickey isn't a threat and he acts a lot better. By the end of the comic we also see the two being best friends and relationship patched up.

We never really see Mickey go through a character arc though? Yeah he rights his wrongs and fixes the world he fucked up, yet that's the bare minimum and we see the wizard intended for it to play out like this.

I mean, I guess Mickey learned a lesson although I don't think "don't mess with magic and things that aren't yours" is a lesson, that's common sense. Mickey is the protagonist of the story and he fixes what he messed up and in the process rekindles his relationship with his lost brother, that's pretty much it. I find this really interesting as generally Mickey is just a tool to tell a story and he rarely shows his character. The time he DOES show character its usually not referenced by Disney or acknowledged, like Runaway Brain.

Fun fact, Runaway Brain which is one of the few instances Mickey is more of a indepth character is also referenced in this very comic!

Now of course this could be pure coincidence and I 100% think I'm reading WAYYYY to far into this, but it's still interesting to see this comic reference an instance of Mickey being a character with depth. I don't wanna talk about Runaway Brain too much as there's a YouTube video that does a better job of analyzing it better than me, but if you're unfamiliar with the movie it does something unique in the fact that it gives Mickey flaws, painting him (haha get it paint?) as a video game addict.

Got off track a bit but circling back around to my point: Mickey has never really had personality once he became a Disney mascot. In the classical shorts we see him be a lot different than the sterilized mouse we have now and it's only recently did we actually see Mickey get some of his actual charm back (I love the Wonderful World of Mickey Mouse so much and all the stuff related to it). Now as much as I love Oswald he ALSO didn't have much of a personality when being owned by Disney back in the silent era and it wasn't until Epic Mickey did we get to better understanding him and his personality considering he actually talks and he's in a setting with a genuine plot that's more than humor. Oswald in Epic Mickey is this actual character who changes as the plot happens, meanwhile Mickey stays constant UNTIL HIS HEART IS STOLEN. The games could be different or something idk, it's entirely plausible this theory is counteracted by the second game. But at least in the comics we see once that heart is snagged he acts more dynamically and becomes more than just a jolly cartoon character trying to fix his mistake.

I think the heart is more than just fame, it's also a reflection of character and a company's treatment of a character because of fame. Mickey is the mascot, he's flawless, he's the face of a corporation, his heart or aka his fame is what makes him him and it's the image Disney crafted for him. Without a heart toons end up like Oswald, old, bitter, and resentful, yet also dynamic and capable of change and I find this concept so cool yet once again in the graphic novel, IT'S A LIKE A SINGLE PANEL! This idea is kinda just discarded and left as an inference to be made and possibly entirely retconned or countered by the second game or the first game! I don't know, I haven't played either nor the awful 3Ds game.

Alright well that's all, I just wanted to make this little rant because I wanna procrastinate on some stuff I gotta do and I love coming up with theories or overanalyzing things. I don't know how to end this so have this screenshot from the graphic novel that made me go "what the fuck does that mean?"

(seriously wtf are gus and Mickey on?)

[villainintern]

I think i failed to actually say how much i enjoyed your demo when it came out but also how it left me very discombobulated lmao perfect word to use. I generally play characters that are honest and geniune and overall... good... i suppose is the word.

And in this that makes you weird. Literally every choice had me like.. oh.. 🤔

And theres so many little details and little texts which are not just funny but also like these people will kill you and think nothing of it. And then i keep having to tell myself well duh dude that's the whole point. You are playing a villain 😭😭😭😭😭

This game is an experience. I'm out here trying to make the least... evil choices as a badguy. Idk. It's such an odd feeling to play. It's fun don't get me wrong it's just extremely new.

Thank you, that's what I like to hear!!! I'm so flattered you're enjoying it!! :P

The MC is definitely less of a "stock" character than in other games. They fully want to be a villain, they act the part, they're totally into it. Which isn't the case for even other supervillain stories, but I wanted to lean into the tropes and the over-the-top fun of it all. That probably isn't the normal personality most players go for, but I'm glad people are having fun stepping into a new role!!

That said, there will absolutely be a chance for good-leaning players to change their minds and jump ship. I have a whole arc in store for regretful villains who are considering a career change. Your character will slowly start to open up and gain a conscience the more you act "nice". I keep tabs on this with some hidden stats- spoilery stuff below the cut if you're interested ⬇️

I'll be tracking your character's "doubt", which you can raise through choices that express hesitation, regret, or mercy. The higher your doubt, the easier it will be for you to quit villainy. You'll also unlock nicer options, although you may be locked out of truly evil stuff if you've established a guilty conscience.

Alternatively, the more the MC acts outright "evil" or directly takes part in villainous things, the higher their "culpability" stat will be. If their culpability gets too high, they'll have a very hard time allying with heroes or even engaging with normal society. On the flip side, a high culpability will make unrepentant villains trust you more, and you'll unlock some really sinister and evil extra choices.

[phightingaus]

bird guy back at it again with. you guessed it more birds

the idea of figuring out how phights would work has invaded my brain and also gears cause to fly either everyone got big ass wings for their weight or like hollow bones and im not drawing big ass wings on everyone that’s too much effort

this is a lot of disorganized rambling as usual because uh. yea 👍

ok anyways so for gears i think my original idea was to have them just be… really light to the user and it doesn’t hurt them to hold it (like cause banhammer poor guy would just. probably not have a fun time carrying that huge freakin hammer everywhere if they have hollow bones) but if anyone else tries to hold it it’s the normal weight (could also be a reason nobody uses other people’s gears aside from it being socially frowned upon) idk man

but anyways phights. oh boy

so if they have hollow bones um. that’s a lot of danger cause i feel like even if the phights have the best of the best healing at all times (considering there’s deities tied to it) there’s still the dangers unless it’s just like. simulation which I don’t think it would be

so maybe there’s certain restrictions with actually damaging to break bones vs damaging to strike back, like make sure you’re not permanently damaging your opponent and it’s all good :) (I feel like banhammer and the biografts would. break that rule but um. one’s the law the others aren’t sentient so uh oopsies)

with flying in the phights it’d be a 50/50 (for maps like Chaos Canyon or KotH, it’d probably be 100% ok and dandy, maybe Banland and perhaps Domino Valley could be like. you can do it but you can’t get mad if you get really hurt. then like Dodgeball , the indoor maps like the bank, arcade, mall, maybe bowling alley are No Siree you Will get hurt), but then there’s the chance that it’s a 13x in which the Maybe ones become Yes and in 6.66x matches it’s just. Go ham fly to your hearts content

^that would also unfortunately give phighters like Subspace, who can’t fly, and Rocket, who’s virtually flightless, high disadvantages if everyone else can fly, but I assume there’s ways they combat it (like Subspace’s ult and Rocket’s……. well, rockets). Would still be a slight disadvantage when all else fails though, I bet they rejoice when there’s a No Go map

it’d be generally frowned upon in the phights to go for the wings methinks. like you can accidentally hit em but if you’re outright targeting them to get them outta the sky and unable to phight basically, you’re Outta there for Timeout because that’s Not Nice.

uhhh some maps could have modifications to them like maybe more open space for some or like. maybe more or less glass idk it’d be funny if Valk and Dom chose maps with glass just to see skateboard or someone crashing into them really fast. maybe that’d be property damage actually wait

but eh discombobulated bird thoughts are the best thoughts 👍 if I think of more to make phights unique n stuff I will appear once more or something I dunno

(also there’s so much about the things with the characters im slowly piecing together that might be a big thing one day i got back into the bird mood and now they’re. they’re getting cooler…..)

guh my brain hurts rn gonna post this bc it's been here for 12 days and i heart bird anon

FUTURE ME RESPOND TO THIS PELADE 😭 @nonofficial-anon

[amethystina]

Hi <3 I just wanted to reach out and wish you all the strength and comfort in the world as you navigate this difficult time. Your writing brings so much joy to readers like me, and I hope you’re surrounded by support and love.

If you don’t mind, could you share a bit more about Yohan's thoughts in "Thou Shalt Not Covet"? I’m intrigued by your take on him as someone with darker thoughts and sides, and I’d love to understand your perspective. (you previously mentioned that he had not-so-nice thoughts, which intrigues me greatly! and i wanted to ask if u could talk a little more about them)

Thank you for all the effort you put into your stories, they’re truly inspiring!

Thank you so much 💜 Admittedly, things are still pretty rough. I keep feeling stressed and disoriented and that just adds to the overall exhaustion I'm already struggling with. But I'll get through it eventually. I always do :)

As for Yo Han and his thoughts during Thou Shalt Not Covet?

WELL.

He's a right bastard, that's what he is x'D I mean, aside from the more obvious things he does to Ga On? Like taking his phone away — which is Ga On's only way of getting a taxi AND calling someone for help should the situation escalate — more or less blocking the door to keep Ga On from leaving, and interrupting whenever Ga On tries to speak?

As if that's not enough, Yo Han also does a lot of subtle manipulations to make sure that he maintains the upper hand and that Ga On is easier to nudge in the direction Yo Han wants him. Because while Yo Han starts out confused, unsure of what's going on, he soon realises that a) Ga On is now aware of the attraction between them, b) Ga On is very insecure about said attraction, c) Ga On is unhappy with Yo Han's commitment to their attraction, and d) Ga On is outright jealous.

And that's something Yo Han can work with.

Because this is Yo Han from around episode 10 of the drama and he's not a kind or considerate man at that point in time. So while he does give both himself and Ga On what they want in the end, make no mistake — the way he goes about it is problematic.

Aside from the aforementioned physical ways Yo Han is directing the situation, he also bluntly says: "Yes, I did have sex with him." And that right there? That's him trying to throw Ga On off balance. He wants to keep Ga On in a heightened emotional state so that he's easier to manipulate. And sure, while they both want the thing Yo Han is aiming for with his manipulations, that's still a red flag. Because Yo Han doesn't have to take that route. He could be much more understanding and gentle.

But he chooses not to be.

And the main reason for that is that Yo Han still has limits to how far he's willing to go — and how much of his own pride he's willing to forsake in order to keep Ga On with him. He chose to follow Ga On back to his room, sure — which I agree is pretty monumental — but he's not giving an inch until he's sure he's actually going to be gaining something from it. He keeps asking Ga On questions, figuring the situation out, then basically launches an attack to discombobulate and convince Ga On to give a relationship a try. During the majority of that conversation, Yo Han is intentionally making Ga On more desperate because he knows that'll make Ga On more likely to succumb.

And the fact that Yo Han wants Ga On to succumb isn't just because he cares about him and wants to smooch him — far from it. Because this is Yo Han and, naturally, he's already thought through every scenario and reached the conclusion that, hey, being in a relationship with Ga On will probably be beneficial for his revenge plot because it'll tie Ga On to him more firmly. It'll make Ga On less likely to leave and Ga On is very useful to Yo Han.

(not to mention that Yo Han wants to own every tiny fraction of Ga On's body, heart, and soul)

Starting a relationship with Ga On is a good strategic move, in other words.

It's a tactical decision more so than it's an emotional one.

And, in a similar vein, Yo Han would have chosen not to pursue Ga On if he'd reached the conclusion that it would risk his plans. Because, at this point in the drama, in Yo Han's mind, Ga On — and Yo Han's own desires — are below his revenge on his list of priorities. If their relationship jeopardised his plans, he'd end it. Without hesitation.

So while it may seem pretty romantic that Yo Han follows Ga On to his room and asks him those questions that prove just how many exceptions Yo Han has made for him, you gotta remember that nothing Yo Han does is accidental. He knows just what to say to make Ga On more dependent on him and, when you look at everything he said? Yo Han never once mentioned his own emotions. It was all Ga On reading between the lines and giving Yo Han the benefit of the doubt. He even dodges Ga On's attempt to trap him with the "What do you want it to be?" question by turning it on Ga On, asking if he hasn't figured it out yet.

Not once does Yo Han give an actual verbal answer — he just asks questions and allows Ga On to fill in the blanks.

Because Yo Han knows that he's made Ga On desperate enough that Ga On will fill those empty spaces with what appeals to him the most. By not offering any words himself, Ga On will add the ones he wants to hear instead — and they'll be sweeter, more emotional, more romantic — without Yo Han having to do a thing or surrendering any more of his pride by actually admitting to caring about Ga On.

Ga On does it all by himself.

That doesn't make the emotions any less true — Yo Han does care about Ga On a great deal — but he's not willing to say it at this point in their relationship. He's not willing to leave himself vulnerable or at Ga On's mercy. Because, deep down, Yo Han isn't ready for that kind of commitment, nor does he feel that level of trust towards Ga On.

So, instead, Yo Han makes sure to remain in charge during that whole conversation and uses every trick in the book to manipulate Ga On to his liking.

And sure, that may sound harsh, but that's who Yo Han is. If you look at the drama, that's how he behaves. He is this much of an asshole. He would use Ga On's emotions against him and exploit every weakness he can spot, just to get what he wants.

He's just lucky that, this time, Ga On wants the same thing.

That's not to say that Yo Han comes out of this unscathed, by the way. He thinks he has, being all aloof and untouchable, not realising that he's put himself in quite the pickle once they actually start growing even closer, both physically and emotionally. Which they'll do much quicker than in canon.

Because suddenly Yo Han will be getting fond little kisses whenever Ga On is near. And soft, warm smiles whenever Yo Han does something that makes Ga On happy. And he'll find out what sounds Ga On makes when he's so overwhelmed by pleasure that he can't even form words anymore. And he'll be struck dumb by how angelic Ga On looks in the mornings, sleeping peacefully next to Yo Han.

In short: Yo Han is doomed.

He'd soften a lot quicker than in the drama and his priorities might start shifting without him noticing. Because we all know he's helpless against Ga On's doe eyes and, sooner or later, he'll become that sappy, lovesick old man we all know and love.

So sure, Yo Han is abusive and toxic during this fic — which I don't think should be forgotten or excused — but he's also given Ga On the opening to manipulate him back. And while Ga On won't do it knowingly, Yo Han still won't stand a chance.

And I don't know about you, but I love that for him.

Yo Han won't know what hit him until it's already too late and then his only option is to accept his fate and love and cherish Ga On for the rest of their lives.

A+ scheming there, Mr. Abyss.

That didn't backfire on you at all.

[britishassistant]

The Little Golden Fox (4)

(A.k.a. A One Piece fan’s reincarnation into a Naruto AU.)

The pair of ninja startle when they hear Lee, whipping around to face them.

She can’t see the adult’s face at all, not even through the black hole in the upper left of the orange mask, but his (her?) body language is stiff.

The maskless boy (probably a teenager, but only just) outright stares at them with an expression of dawning horror.

Naruto’s grip on her sleeve tightens, and when she glances over he’s staring up at the strangers with his chin lowered, blue eyes big and unblinking.

It reminds her so much of the small fox at the bottom of the garden peering out of the bushes that her throat goes tight.

“Sh-shinobi-san…?” Lee’s gone hesitant and quiet underneath her.

Then he bobs his head sharply, a bow without risking bending and dislodging her. “I am Rock Lee, a second year at the Shinobi Academy. Mayu-chan an-and Naruto, Naruto-san are civilians. We found ourselves taken from our beds and trapped in a destroyed facility outside of the village. Please, could you direct us to the hospital? Is it far?”

The older boy tries to wrangle his face into imposing sternness. “Children like you should be in bed. What will your parents think?”

The way the mask is staring at them sets her teeth in edge, so when Lee starts to say, “Well, I’m—”

Mayu intervenes. “He’s my brother. They both are. Otou-sama and Okaa-sama adopted them, but the creepy old guy with a red eye decided to kidnap us all over it. Our parents tried to stop him, but they’re not ninja. They’re probably searching for us now.”

Lee makes a startled sound and she can feel Naruto staring at her.

It takes a great deal of self-control to stop herself there and not elaborate on all the pejoratives she’d like to apply to their scum-sucking shit-licker of a kidnapper. But like hell she’s letting these bastards know that no one knows they’re here, or that they could all be vanished as easily as they were earlier.

“A-one red eye?” The teenager says, sounding stressed. “I—that’s not possible—!”

“Is irrelevant.” The masked man cuts in. “Given that before us stands the nine-tails’ jinchuuriki.”

He points at Naruto, the spiral on his tummy clear for all to see even in the low light from far-off lanterns.

Naruto crowds closer to her and Lee, a soft warning growl trilling out of him. It sounds weird coming from human vocal cords.

The older boy’s mouth snaps shut. In the lighting, his eyes look kind of red, for some reason.

“You can prove your loyalty to Akatsuki here and now, Uchiha Itachi.” The mask declares. “If your dedication to a world without conflict is true, then you know what you must do.”

Oh, she hates the sound of that.

“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about.” She interrupts. “But I am very tired and in a lot of pain, and that’s not going to stop me against anyone who tries anything on either of these two.”

There’s a derisive scoff.

“I,” The tall man with an orange mask rumbles, “am Uchiha Madara.”

She feels Lee suck in a shocked breath, Naruto going even more tense in response—

“Who cares.” Mayu spits, throughly disgusted.

Lee squeaks under her.

“Wh—“ The man sounds entirely discombobulated.

“I’m Mr. Prince and this is Restaurant Le Shit,” She snaps at him in a falsetto. “Honored customer, do you want me to take your order?!”

The man and the older boy stare at her.

Naruto lets out semi-frightened hiccuped yips of laughter, and it sounds so familiar it makes her heart ache.

“That’s a reference, isn’t it?”

She’s yanked off of Lee’s back by a hand on her collar.

“Mayu-chan!”

When she twists to look at her captor, she wishes she hadn’t.

It almost looks like a man she’d see on a magazine cover in her past life. Generically handsome, symmetrical features, strong nose, chiseled jawline, visible muscles.

But the eyes were a hair too wide for its face. But muscles pulsed and bulged in ways they weren’t meant to, even when still. But the skin of this thing was pure white and stretched over its frame like some kind of too-tight costume.

“I don’t know what to,” The monster continues in a light, pleasant baritone. “But it’s not something a good kid from Konoha would say. So, you’re Fire’s interloper, hm?”

As neatly as pulling a bow loose, the monster jerks her collar up to toss her into the air, and catches her with a crushing grip on her throat.

She thinks she hears Lee screaming her name.

“Though, honestly.” The monster sighs. “Given the mess you made back there, it was pretty obvious. It’d be easier to count how many of us would leave Shimura Danzo alive than those who’d give in to their impulses like you.”

Mayu’s mind is racing even as she struggles to breathe. “Us”? Does that mean this monster’s—?!

There’s a wordless yell mingling with a foxlike screech.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a blur of yellow and black and white-and-green stripes rushing the monster—!

She can’t see what happens beyond a blur of white and the monster’s hand tightening sharply around her throat, but there’s pained cries that make her blood run cold.

“How embarrassing.” The monster’s tone is genial, patronizing. “I mean, no one was expecting anything from the chakraless Rock Lee, useless side character extraordinaire. But for the heroic Kyuubi container to be so weak? It’s honestly pathetic.”

“St-sto-!!” Mayu rasps.

She reaches desperately for the sensation of communing with something more than her, trying to call again on the protection that had let her save her friends not half an hour ago.

It may have been kinder to feel nothing.

The riptide of fury turned horror turned helpless dread floods her in spite of its frailty. The anguish of not having the strength left to save anyone.

Tears bead in her eyes.

“Hmm.” The monster turns her this way and that, like she’s a piece of clothing he’s checking the quality of. “…Natural genjutsu immunity. And it seems to be communicable through physical contact…this will be an excellent skill to have. I wonder, will it be immune to the Sharingan?”

“Enough, Mi—Zetsu.” The masked man says. “There are more important matters at hand than your hunger.”

The hand around her throat loosens slightly as the monster clicks his tongue.

“Truly? Are you really going to forget our duties, Madara-sama?” The monster says silkily. “I am merely trying to aid you in neutralizing a key threat to our goals. Surely you wouldn’t dishonor her wishes for a kinder world like this.”

The man stops.

His shoulders square. “Do not call my dedication into question, puppet. We will take the Kyuubi, but no blood will be shed that does not need to be.”

“Of course, Madara-sama.” The monster smiles. “I’ll deal with the interloper, we’ll leave the worthless child without chakra alive, and we’ll help Itachi-kun fulfill his destiny.”

The older boy startles, as if he’s awoken from his frozen stupor.

“My genjutsu…I fear I may have let it slip. It’s unlikely we will have the advantage when facing the rest of the Uchiha clan.”

The monster laughs. Under any other circumstances, it could be called kind.

For some reason, she can smell smoke. Something is burning.

Lots of things are burning.

“Don’t worry, Itachi-kun.” The monster says kindly. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Your family is still dying tonight.”

Rather than react with shock or fear at this pronouncement, the boy’s shoulders go slack. She would almost think he looks relieved, if not for the way his red pinwheeling eyes look completely empty.

“All except that darling brother of yours, of course.” The monster croons. “Don’t you want him to get stronger? To survive this cruel world? This is the only way, Itachi-kun. You love your baby brother. Don’t you, Itachi-kun?”

“Aa.” The child mutters.

“Wait! Please, wait!”

Rock Lee has staggered to his feet and is clutching at the older boy’s clothes.

“Shinobi-san, please!” Lee begs. “You’re being tricked!”

The boy’s shoulders hunch, but he doesn’t move.

“If something is so unyouthful as to kill the entire Uchiha clan, why would it care to stop at your brother?!” Lee shouts. “He might even get hurt trying to save his fa—!”

The masked man hits him with a huge fan-like thing made of metal.

Lee slams into the wall with a sharp cry, slumping into the dent the blow has created.

“Stay down.” The mask grunts.

Mayu can only let out a strangled gurgle, clawing at her captor’s arm as she strains towards Lee.

She’ll end them. She’ll destroy them for hurting her brother. She doesn’t know how, but—!

…there’s the odd sensation of something thick and stiff jammed under her fingernails.

She can see pale human skin and welling blood through the scratches she’s made in the arm. Scratches that the white stuff is rapidly sealing shut.

When she looks up, the cloying, patronizing, constant smile has dropped off the monster’s face.

“…you don’t deserve blissful ignorance.” He says, tone deceptively light. “Not when you’re such a little bitch.”

“Oh, quit trembling.” A sharp squeeze to her throat. “I’m not gonna kill you. That would release your soul to the Pure Lands, and your gift would be reborn in the next unlucky bastard the Sage grabs. What a waste that would be! No, no, no.”

“I’ll keep you inside me. A little battery for your abilities that will never ever drain. Unmoving. Undying.” A grin slits the monster’s face and just. Keeps. Growing. “Don’t worry, you won’t be alone. Your predecessors are waiting for you. Dissolving inside me, forever.”

The arm holding her contorts impossibly. Until it’s dangling Mayu over the monster’s now gaping mouth.

She thinks she hears two voices screaming her name.

“Thank you for the meal~”

She can see into the maw of forever, unchanging and static and endless.

It sounds like thousands of birds are screaming.

It smells like an awful mix of burnt meat and scorched vegetables.

The maw closes before her eyes as the monster chokes, liquid so dark she can’t tell what it is bubbling out of his lips.

She falls from his limp grip.

The ground slams into her with enough force to drive the little remaining air from her lungs.

She can see that Naruto’s chewing fiercely at the thick organic bars of a cage dripping from the monster’s foot, the weird white material pressing so tightly against his little body his mouth is all he can move.

Part of her notices the lines on his cheeks seem to be carved deeper, his teeth seem sharper. The rest of her focuses on clawing her way towards him.

Drops of dark liquid splatter on the ground in front of her.

“Haa-taa-kke.” Her eyes follow the sound of the monster’s rasp up, and become transfixed at the sight of the hand-sized hole punched through him.

Then there’s movement, sounds too fast for her to follow. A blur of white, moving in ways no animal should. The whining screams of birds. The maw, coming to engulf—!

“DYNAMIC ENTRY!!”

There’s black and red and orange and green and—!!

The mask standing over Lee is now crumpled on the other side of the street.

A white foot sticks out from under his body.

Between her and Naruto is…is…!

“Mayu-chan! Naruto-kun!” She’s dragged away from the, the head, and into Lee’s arms. He’s wincing as he moves and she’s not sure his pupils are dilating properly, but he’s curled over them like he wants to put himself between them and the world.

Naruto clutches at them both, a distressed whimper leaving his throat as he nuzzles into Lee’s shoulder and Mayu’s temple.

It’s very hard to not start crying.

“Uchiha Itachi.” A large man in a green jumpsuit and vest and orange leg-warmers standing over them booms. “I would advise that you come quietly, if you value your life. We do not wish to turn our blows on a comrade.”

The older boy is backing away uncertainly.

His red eyes begin pinwheeling faster and faster.

Mayu frowns.

She reaches out, and curls a hand into the thick fabric of the leg-warmer in front of her.

She doesn’t know much about this series, trying to absorb as little as she could from online flame wars.

But, despite her best efforts, she knows the Sharingan is magic red eyes that are meant to destroy all opponents.

And she knows that the monster said she could spread immunity to them, somehow.

The teen looks faintly sick as he meets her glare.

The man in the jumpsuit glances down at her. His face splits in an oddly reassuring smile and he reaches down to ruffle her hair and Lee’s.

“Worry not, blossoming youths!” He moves one hand from her head to Naruto’s so he doesn’t feel left out. “You have all shown your strength and courage in delaying these adversaries until my rival and I could arrive! Allow us to take it from here.”

Then the sound of metal meeting metal clashes behind them, and the man’s face sharpens.

He gently detangles her hand from his leg, gives them all a final quick hair ruffle and then springs into the fray with a roar of, “I WON’T LET YOU!”

The older boy blinks, pinwheeling eyes slowing. He shifts, as if he’s about to make a run for it.

“Ah, ah.” A lady with red eyes and a man with a cigarette land on either side of him, weird diamond knives to his throat. “You’re outnumbered, Uchiha. Even you can’t hope to take on every jounin in the village at once.”

Then a set of huge gate doors BANG open in front of them and a whole load of dark haired people come pouring out, led by a tiny girl about their age with pink hair.

Almost in the same breath, a choking gurgle sounds behind them, almost drowned out by the nice green spandex man’s shouting, what sounds like a dog growling, and a high feminine cackle that wouldn’t be out of place in a mad scientist’s lab.

The teenager drops his head, and raises both hands.

“Can we go home now?” Ketsugi Mayu asks plaintively.

The answer to that is no, no they may not.

They aren’t even brought to the hospital. They’re taken to a large room in the big tower in the center of the village, surrounded by guys in white masks. Green-spandex-man is there too though, along with a grey-haired man in a half-face-mask Mayu doesn’t want to recognize.

Green-spandex-man at least tries to have a doctor summoned for them, but the white masks refuse, saying that something called a “Hokage” needs to come first. The grey-haired guy just alternates between staring at Naruto and looking like he’s going to be sick.

Eventually, an old man in white robes with a weird wide hat comes in flanked by more white masks. He sits behind the desk, a glass ball in front of him.

“Well.” He says, sounding very tired. “This has been a long night.”

Mayu refuses to be swayed by humor, shifting forward as much as her aching leg will allow to put herself between Naruto and Lee and this new adult.

The old man notices her glaring at him, and tilts his head. “Is something the matter, young one?”

“This.” Mayu declares. “Is the third time we’ve been kidnapped by a strange old man and masks tonight. We’re tired. We’re hurt. I’m in my nightie. I want Otou-sama and Okaa-sama. We. Want. To. Go. Home.”

The adults in the room stare at her for a moment, as she struggles to keep her lower lip from wobbling, eyes burning.

The old man pulls out a long pipe and begins packing the bowl with tobacco. “I am sorry about this. However, I swear on my office as Hokage that you will be allowed to return to your families once we understand what has happened tonight. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

So she explains, in fits and starts, everything from waking up to being kidnapped to the giant fox-like creature to fox Naruto being turned into human Naruto. Lee jumps in to help at that point, and between them, they manage to relay the entirety of the sordid tale.

“Well.” The Hokage lets out a plume of smoke before continuing. “This tale is certainly…fantastical. Were it not for the fact that the Kyuubi’s chakra was felt throughout the village, and the two perpetrators who were killed attempting to massacre the Uchiha, I would be inclined to take this all as a child’s dreaming. You will both meet with Yamanaka-san to verify that this is the entire truth.”

“I don’t know what that means.” She complains.

For some reason that makes the old man chuckle indulgently.

The green-spandex man at least kneels down and pats her hand reassuringly. “Worry not, young blossom. All the Yamanaka are proficient in their clan’s mind-walk jutsu, but none more so than Yamanaka Inoichi-sama! He will be able to ascertain the truth you’ve told us.”

She doesn’t know that she fully likes the sound of that (what will someone going into her brain make of her past life memories?) but green-spandex man has honstely been the best and most responsible adult so far, so she gives him a brave nod and as much of a smile as she can muster.

Maybe she should ask him to take them all back to Otou-sama and Okaa-sama? She kind of hopes they’d get along.

“Only one matter remains to be resolved.” The old man says, completely going back on what he said before. “Young lady, please do not slouch or groan when I am speaking.”

“Mayu-chan!” Lee hisses, scandalized, one arm bracing his middle as best he can. She shifts upright grumpily and painfully.

He gives her a grateful smile. She smiles back at him and pointedly doesn’t look at the Hokage’s face. She didn’t do it for him.

The Hokage ignores her ignoring him. “The young man between you there, Naruto, I believe you called him? We have reason to believe he may be very important to the village. Is that not so, Kakashi-kun?”

“…We’d need a more thorough test to be sure.” Grey-haired guy says slowly. “But physically, he bears too much of a resemblance to Kushina-n—Uzumaki Kushina-san to not be directly related to her. That seal is also Mi—Yondamie-sama’s work.”

Naruto fidgets with her and Lee’s fingers, eyes flicking around warily in the face of all this scrutiny.

She peers at the now perfect spiral on Naruto’s belly. “It didn’t used to look like that when he was a fox. It was kinda squished. Like a snail, or Sanji’s eyebrow.”

“Ah.” The Hokage nods. “That may be why he was trapped in that form—if the seal was imperfect, the Nine Tails’ chakra likely caused the change until it was corrected. How was that managed, by the by?”

“I kicked it.” She says. “Sanji and everyone helped me a lot.”

She watches as the old man struggles to parse this, and then visibly makes the decision to not think about it.

“Still, there is the matter of what is to be done with our young jinchuuriki. Arranging housing, a guardian, and the like.”

“We could look after him.” She pipes up. “Otou-sama and Okaa-sama want to adopt Lee too, and we were all taking care of Naruto already.”

Lee makes a small squeak of shock.

Oh. She forgot to tell him, didn’t she? Whoops.

The old man doesn’t even twitch as he demurs. “Be that as it may, a child is a large responsibility. A child who is also the jinchuuriki and aspires to become a venom of Konoha even more so. We will need to review all avenues of possibility before settling on one out of impulse.”

She doesn’t quite scowl at the man, but it’s a near thing.

“Maa.” The grey haired guy says, nonchalance not quite convincing. “Why don’t we ask the man of the hour? Rather than talking over him like this.”

“A splendid idea!” Green-spandex-man cheers, lamplight reflecting off of his teeth. “As expected of my cool and hip rival!”

“Well, Naruto-kun?” The Hokage prompts, face a mask of grandfatherly concern. “Don’t be shy. You can speak your mind here.”

Naruto glances towards her, then at Lee.

Lee grins and gives him a thumbs up. She squeezes his hand twice, tight and reassuring.

Uzumaki Naruto takes a deep breath.

“I’m gonna become King of the Pirates, believe it!”

The Hokage drops his pipe.

Ketsugi Mayu screeches.

[complete-gay-chaos]

hi I'm normal about the new niigo event cards

spoilers for the newest event on JP. eng translation is "saying goodbye to my masked self" but it sounds like one of those awkward eng translations. I just saw the cards and went a little bit nuts because there is so. much. symbolism and callback to other events and cards.

the first very obvious connection is with the cards from the imprisoned marionette event. it's nightcord's first event and it's where we really get it set up that mafuyu's sitaution with her mom is a problem.

mafuyu feels like a marionette, the strings controlling her being her mother and the pressure she feels at school and home, and the mask being hiding her emotions and pretending to handle it.

so yknow with this event's card- the cut strings, the scissors, the broken mask. she's breaking her mom's control, she is "saying goodbye to her masked self". I find it interesting that it looks like not all the strings are cut- it may just be a stylistic choice by the illustrator though.

going further into reading too deeply into things the cards for the rest of niigo are also pretty straightforward with the string thing too. but I find it interesting that in mizuki's card, all the strings are hanging loose, in ena's card she's pulling against the strings, and in kanade's card, the strings all appear to still be tight and she's huddled up in the middle.

I think it maybe represents their different relationships to control. mizuki has always been about being yourself and not being controlled, and has lightly encouraged that in mafuyu or with their personality, at least kept the door open for mafuyu- they never really push.

Ena pushes back against control a lot- she outright lies to mafuyu's mom in "Someday, this wish will transcend the morning sky" so mafuyu can stay at her house. So I think it makes sense that she's directly pulling on the "strings of control".

Kanade never really directly challenges mafuyu's mother until "Immiscible discord". She prefers to focus just on mafuyu, and is kind of tunnel-vision about songwriting and helping mafuyu, so she's not touching the strings at all and is instead focused on the crystal/heart/apple.

(ok I wrote these next slides for a friend discord server so these are a bit more discombobulated)

so apples and heart-shaped apples are pretty significant at points in niigo's story. they appear most prominently in the "Mirage of lights" event when mafuyu get sick and recalls a similar time from her childhood. the memory of eating apple cut up for her by her mom (and later, kanade) is tied to a warm feeling- and it being tied to a feeling, at all, is pretty significant for mafuyu. and the heart shape I think makes it pretty clear- apples are tied to mafuyu's feelings, or her "heart". then there's also a brief reference in the lyrics of samsa and the art for the song as well which I feel like further solidifies it.

yes I know my handwriting is unreadable 😭 I'm going to add image descriptions.

Ok so also the hearts are made out of crystals or have a crystalline look to them and that along with the poses and lighting they're in reminds me of the cards from "Someday, from the depths of despair". Given the fact that the event is about reminiscing on how they all met and the connection and friendship they now share with each other, and the lyrics to Tricologe, specifically "a little chipped pink opal/a lost lolite/a topaz covered in dust/and a lonely ametrine" (although idk how official that translation is) I think the gemstones symbolize themselves, and the memories and feelings they have for each other aka friendship.

I also think it's interesting that for mafuyu's card in that event she doesn't have a fully formed crystal like mizuki and ena do because she still struggles with finding a sense of self and experiencing/identifying her feelings.

But yeah so the crystals/hearts/apples in this event's card symbolize mafuyu, her feelings, their friendship with her, that whole package. So think the rest of the girl's cards are showing them reaching out to mafuyu and supporting them in the ways that they know.

Anyway that's just what I think, it might be inaccurate I don't speak japanese or live in japan so I don't have direct access to things in the JP sekai server or the non-translated meanings of song lyrics, event dialogues, etc. I'm just excited about my blorbos. Mafuyu's story brings me to tears every time she has a focus event istg her story is dear to me and this is the ultimate culmination of all the growth I get super sappy over.

This is event is obviously a very big step that's been built up to since nightcord's first event/main story and I love how the imagery in the cards ties back to repeating themes, other events, and the beginning of it all. It's really the icing on the cake.

[pesterloglog]

Jake English, Jane Crocker

Act 6, page 4188

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 6:05

GT: Jane!

GT: Forgive my botherations. I know this is meant to be a spanking ripsnorter of a day for you and all.

GT: But do you happen to know where the devilfucking dickens mr strider might be?

GG: Oh, that's fine!

GG: I had been meaning to message you sooner actually, but I suppose in all the hubbub today, it plumb slipped my mind.

GG: Which is a shocking fact on its lonesome, considering what I have to tell you!

GT: Egad...

GT: *Loosens collar a bit.*

GG: As for this Strider business, hrmmm. He's an elusive guy Jake. You know that.

GG: I talked to him yesterday. That's as much help as I can be!

GT: Shoot.

GT: I really need to ask him something but hes got his blasted auto responder turned on.

GG: Hoo hoo.

GG: I love that thing. :B

GT: He wouldnt be pleased to hear you say that.

GG: What do you need with him?

GG: Does this have to do with your crazy pen pal project?

GT: It most certainly does and time is of the essence!

GT: Today is the day i have to finish it and send it. Not a day later!

GT: So you see why i am feeling really friggin discombobulated at the moment.

GG: Sorry, J. :(

GG: This would be the birthday present... for your grandmother?

GT: No!

GT: It is for your grandfather simply to be *relayed* to him by my grandmother. A joint gift to him from she and i.

GG: Her and me.

GT: What? Who and you now?

GG: "A joint gift from her and me." Grammar, Jake!

GT: Oh for frigs flipping sake jane this is no time for your prudish pedantry! Leave your bookish malarkey in a dusty old library somewhere. I have an adventure to get on with!

GG: So if I have this straight, the big thing hogging up your plate today is not this marvelous new game which I have invited you to play with me, but finishing a robotic rabbit to give to my dead poppop?

GT: Bingo. *double pistols and a wink*

GG: You are a very strange and silly boy.

GT: Please jane we have addressed this.

GT: I am sending the gift back in time to when they are both alive and about our age.

GT: Or...

GT: Something like that. Something funny is going on here that i have not fully grappled yet but dag nab it if im not gonna see it through.

GG: Well,

GG: Godspeed, then! I do hope you can pull it off.

GT: Are you being fresh with me now?

GG: No!!

GT: Look jane i know youve never believed me and you think everything i say is some big cockamamie goofoff but i think today of all days is when you should start taking some things more seriously.

GT: Especially since i have always had your back. I have always believed in you!

GG: Hey! I have believed in you too.

GG: However, believing somebody isn't the same thing as believing IN somebody.

GG: But that much said...

GG: I think that maybe I am getting ready to believe some of the wild stories I've heard?

GG: Or, if not believe outright, reserve judgment on, at least.

GT: Is that so!

GG: I don't know!

GG: I'm still not sure what to think. But what I wanted to tell you this morning was...

GG: I had a really wild dream last night.

GG: And you were in it.

GT: Oh my. *glasses fog up. fumbles for kerchief.*

GG: Sh! Not like that.

GG: It was so real! I think we were in the game, even though we haven't started playing yet.

GG: I don't know what to make of it. Whether it was a vision of the future, or somewhere that exists now, or if it was just a really lucid dream due to excitement.

GT: What was i doing there?

GG: Um...

GG: Not a heck of a lot!

GG: I really want to tell you all about it, but it will take some time to explain, and we both have things to attend to.

GG: You with your time traveling rabbitwork, and I, my vigilant window gazing!

GT: Too true.

GT: Let us reconvene later and sort out all this shit at a leisurely pace.

GG: Yes, ok, good luck Jake!

GT: Okay you too jane! Bye!

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

[vancilocs]

odd numbers for kenzo and kazim?

weird numbers

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

A lot of stuff but maybe how he left his husband and the Citadel. Embarrassing

Masyaf times, stuff he's done when he was younger and very edgy

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

He's very aware of his flaws, mainly his memory and personality issues, he knows he can be kinda easily manipulated with things he likes but they haven't killed him yet so why bother

He considers a lack of eye his biggest flaw, he compensates by protecting his left side more

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

He would bend the rules but not risk outright breaking it. Or at least overtly

Very far, will abuse his leadership role/being related to a high-ranking officer

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

He became sadder and less of an asshole

He's lost plenty of edge in 10 years but he's honestly shockingly similar to what he was before

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

I don't think I have anything for Kenzo

(damn the guilt, my past is dead) / and i wait for the night / shadows protect my angel in white / time to eject these vain parasites / cast out reject the plague in all your hearts ALSO back in black / i hit the sack / i've been too long, i'm glad to be back / yes, i'm let loose from the noose / that's kept me hanging about

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Fists, knife, pistol for real emergencies, experienced with all of them

Has a sword he had his best friend sweet cheese rotten soldier steal back for him, also wields a thin little knife like the assassin wristblade, but he just doesn't have it on his wrist he holds it normally

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

They're both large intimidating men I don't care for spending time with those. At least they wouldn't try to talk to me either

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

Nope, I have like two and a half faceclaims in total of all of them

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

I dropped a building on him and broke his leg and spine, yes I dropped a building on him and broke his head but at least he didn't feel the pain from that. Unlike the leg and back

I killed his daughter and his captain/other half

How does your OC behave when enraged?

Weapons come out, either knife or a nearby bottle he breaks to make it a weapon, snarling, yelling

Cold, knives out someone will die

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

Addiction, depression, PTSD that is kinda comorbid with anxiety, also deals with chronic pain on the daily. Has prescription painkillers but self-medicates with alcohol. Takes uppers like cocaine to pull himself out of depression slumps

He has PTSD and dealt with deep depression after the whole thing of getting maimed and almost killed, easily slips into those moods. Handles it by taking walks, spending time with friends and family and talking through it with the wife

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Doesn't know what to do when scared, goes into fight mode immediately. Gets completely discombobulated if it turns into a panic attack which only makes it worse. Has a hard time expressing love of any kind.

Grief easily turns into anger, also has a hard time expressing sadness without it coming out as him being mad

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

He's a lovable sad bastard archetype, I am predictable. Also his weird fucked up but so incredibly loving relationship but not relationship with Ipes

He's so olldddd but also he's just a good guy?? He loves his parents and brother and his best friend and his wife and kids most of all and is a well-rounded little dude

[writer59january13]

Harried Harris heir still feels horrid courtesy heist he doth declare...

Earlier this merry month of May a goniff who possibly did gossip about his/her surreptitious exploits when he/she brazenly accessed ATM machine situated at 13 West Ridge Street Lansford Pennsylvania 18232 pulled off outright theft found him/herself in possession of debit card with Mastercard logo (I deduce mail meant for us - particularly the missus got sent to incorrect address) unknown person took liberty considered themselves blessed a golden opportunity became their manifest destiny initially linkedin to activate debit card immediately afterward acquired access to monies in our joint account and stuffed their pockets with moolah belonging to yours truly and the missus he/she blithely devolved into criminal mind, nevertheless mischievous person had themselves a handy dandy blue's clues field day when they considered him/herself lucky duck emptied checking account (belonging to sexagenarian husband and wife, and as the former generally identified victim) can attest to electronic record identified espying online account in question with erroneous withdrawn funds incorporating a half dozen transactions - instantaneously rendered me penniless,

the writer of these words

matter of fact pondered joining dead souls, and rider in the emotional storm hankered for eternal peace proffered courtesy "Spiritus Mundi," I suddenly felt compelled to renounce living social and (despite lack of life insurance) capitulate to the afterlife, yet restraint and being support animal of the wife checked impulse to surrender on a wing and a prayer to the divine cosmic force ideally for monetary salvation, where upon the countless rungs of each heavenly stair, presented a daunting task nevertheless these little feet of mine tirelessly climbed every mountainous step attempting to reach the elusive summit in sum re: experienced a spring in mine gait with subsequent ascendent footstep taken with increased vim and vigor as if being buoyed forth, perhaps invisible strings controlled me as a marionette ascending closer to another lightness of finally being no longer discombobulated nor distressed simian gifted with eternal blessedness to behold the infinite blinding starburst signaling out of this world magnificent phenomenal supernova, bathing, hashtagging and searing across retinas freed from cataracts courtesy opthamologist Aaron Cohn rendering vision to behold brilliant permanent images attesting to the infinite starry eyed breadth, scope, and width of the universe city of galactic accretions splayed out across the cosmos an ever expanding profound show stopper fanfare for a common man enjoying an Appalachian Spring while attending a Rodeo reinforcing nihilistic existentialism while reducing egotistical pomposity into an infinitesimal nothingness, yet in the meantime welcomes munificence videre licet largesse or more simply stated as cold hard cash for this Johnny.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 21 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Chapter: 21 - Polar Opposites

An incoming email flashed in the lower right-hand corner of my screen.

As I did with all of Mr. Johnstone's emails, I clicked on it immediately.

Mr. Johnstone didn't contact me unless it was needed.

I liked that about him.

The least I could do was read and respond promptly.

I groaned as I saw another meeting had been scheduled for tomorrow.

Considering I never went to the office and was now going twice in a span of a week, I was a bit frustrated.

I wondered if this would be my new normal.

My mind immediately conjured an image of Pierce.

I knew I had him to thank for the alterations taking place in my work life.

They weren't impossible changes.

I could cope but they still irked me.

Why all of the sudden did things need to be different?

'Chicken'

Pierce's last text flashed through my mind.

What was his game?

I hadn't been brave enough to find out and now that two days had passed it seemed a bit farfetched to try and reply now to find out.

I had ignored the message and the implied challenge.

I had gotten brave and then backed off at the last minute when Pierce had responded with his irksome one-word provocation.

For the life of me I wasn't sure why I hadn't.

The need to protect his feelings from what I had wanted to say seemed silly now.

Pierce was a big boy and he certainly dished out whatever he was thinking.

Why had I hesitated to respond in kind?

He wouldn't have fired me.

Instead, his last reply of 'chicken' kind of made it feel like he had wanted me to speak my mind but of course, that was part of the problem.

I had never been the type of person to say whatever I wanted.

I subscribed to the old-fashioned theory of, if you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all and that just because I could doesn't mean I should.

Two concepts I felt sure Piece had never met in his life.

He and I were total opposites.

I was a lump of coal and he was the hidden bright and flashy bauble beneath.

He spoke his mind, I stayed silent.

He was elegant and refined, I was boringly normal.

He was elite and I was... well... not.

Polar opposites yet with an undeniable attraction.

It was tortuously confounding.

One minute I wanted to run and in the next I couldn't look away.

My body reacted to his presence.

My mind shied away.

My heart beat faster and my nerves screamed.

He affected every molecule of my being so that I could feel myself now in a way I never had before, layer by layer.

If that wasn't the very definition of discombobulating, I didn't know what was.

I sighed again, something I had been doing a lot lately as my tangled thoughts beat at me.

With determination I shrugged them off and went back to work.

Numbers I understood.

Numbers made sense.

Numbers held irrefutable logic.

I needed some of that right now.

***********

I arrived at the same conference room that we had met in before.

Mr. Johnstone hadn't met me downstairs this time as I now knew where to go.

I braced myself before turning the doorknob and stepped into the room.

I needn't have been worrying.

Pierce was not present.

"Glad you could finally join us," Vernon said into the silence.

I turned to look at him with a questioning frown.

I glanced at my watch.

I was five minutes early.

His tone implied I was late.

I stepped further into the room and noted everyone from the last meeting was present except for Pierce.

Mr. Johnstone gave me his normal salutation of a brief smile and Amber beamed a welcome my way.

TJ and Vernon's expressions remained the same as they had upon our last meeting.

Possibly even a little more unwelcoming if possible.

It was apparent within minutes of my sitting down that Vernon did not like me.

He clearly resented having to report to me.

I wasn't sure why it had been set up this way and would be glad to change the setup in a heartbeat.

Displays of outright dislike only made me tense.

My mind didn't function at its best as my anxiety tried to kick in in stressful moments like this and it slowed my ability to process in a way that made me uncomfortable.

Considering I was in a work setting where I needed my mind to be functioning one hundred percent, to say I was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Mr. Johnstone directed the meeting and often cut across any of Vernon's irrelevant comments.

I felt he passed a few my way.

As the meeting progressed, I became more confused because what I had been sent had been a sketchy outline at best.

What they were discussing at great length were minute details I simply wasn't privy to.

It made participating in the conversation extremely limited.

Vernon appeared to derive pleasure from my inability to interact equally.

He consistently pointed out my lacking in understanding and the more the meeting the progressed the more muddled my thoughts became.

I could feel tiny fingers of disquiet walking up my spine.

It was frustrating and I strove to maintain my breathing so as to not to cave into its pull.

Doing so would risk my having a panic attack in front of everyone.

The thought was humiliating.

I could only imagine Vernon's smirking face as I crashed under the strain of such a simple meeting.

Measuring my breathing, in and out, I let the flow of conversation continue.

I blocked out the words and refused to allow them to upset me further.

Instead I re-grouped mentally of what I did know and I knew a lot.

Becoming more confident as I replayed the facts of what was said it soon became readily apparent, I had been set up.

I had been supplied with the barest minimum of information to purposely make me look incompetent though they were acting with Mr. Johnstone as if I had been supplied all and was up to date.

It was very simple and childish really.

I would have seen right through it if panic had not set in.

Though Vernon would have no idea I had anxiety, his shenanigans had almost worked because I did.

A small flare of anger ignited in my mind.

As I looked up and stared at a gloating Vernon who was now chatting even more expansively thinking he had won I did something I never had before with anyone that I could remember.

"So, as you can see...."

"No, I don't see," I butted in.

[bestworstcase]

o7 wrt to:

Interesting, I recall Ruby reacting with hurt and confusion in V3 when Yang was to traumatized to fill her parental role. But what were the other instances if you don't mind my asking? (I do recall her seeming a little upset during those two earl instances where Yang either let Ruby find her own way or suggested not being on the same team. Though it felt light enough in tone that I wasn't sure how deep it went.)

parentheticals are the incidents i have in mind, yeah. like you say, those times don’t feel nearly as heavy as the devastation when yang rejects her in v3, but i think that comes down to a lesser need on ruby’s part: in v1, her problem is that she’s socially anxious and feeling isolated, so she gets a bit clingy with yang (“why would i need other friends when i have you!!”), whereas in v3 she’s just woken up from a coma after witnessing the murder of two friends.

it’s different in scale. and then there’s also the factor that in v1, yang makes the right call for ruby in not indulging that clinginess—it’ll be good for ruby to meet new people and make her own friends separate from yang!—BUT handles it in a very, well, seventeen-year-old way. awkwardly ditching ruby at the entrance vs taking a few minutes to talk through the fear with her and help her figure out some ways to approach new people, which is how a hypothetical Actual Adult Parent would ideally handle the situation.

the ditching incident in particular sticks out to me because ruby reacts to it quite strongly: “WAIT! where are you going?! are we supposed to go to our dorms? where are our dorms? do we have dorms??—” while she’s depicted as literally spinning in place to represent how discombobulated she feels. and then she’s like “i don’t know what i’m doing” and falls over. & by the end of that scene she’s so overwhelmed and upset that she just sinks onto the ground again.

i think yang realized after the fact that what she did was actually pretty mean—hence saving ruby a spot and calling her over as soon as ruby comes into the hall and (awkwardly) checking in, she’s trying to make up for it.

and then in the lockers the following morning, when the same issue bubbles up again, yang gets really nervous and self-conscious because she 1. doesn’t want to hurt ruby’s feelings again, but 2. also doesn’t know how to say “i think being on separate teams would be good for both of us” without it coming across as rejecting ruby. ruby still feels rejected, plays it off as sisterly ribbing, but once they’re in the forest she’s outright on the brink of panic “gotta find yang gotta find yang” and i think the hurt from Being Ditched the day before definitely feeds into that, bc in her mind ‘yang isnt with me’ = ‘i feel lost and scared and mess everything up and strangers yell at me’

after that point it’s better because 1. yang doesn’t ever ditch her like that again and 2. ruby forms friendships with other people so she doesn’t feel the need to cling to yang anymore, and they settle into a more balanced dynamic until the next time ruby rly needs a caretaker at a point when yang isn’t able to step into that role, which is after beacon falls

but i do think those interactions in the first couple episodes are really important for establishing that this dynamic exists; on first pass it’s easy to read as normal sibling stuff but then once more context is revealed looking back it’s like—ah. that’s probably the first time ruby’s turned to yang for parent-like support in an environment where yang didn’t feel so much pressure to be a parent.

and that being like, the second major interaction they have after the scene that establishes how yang loves ruby to bits (so we know the ditching doesn’t happen bc yang sees her as an annoying tagalong, or whatever)? very much lays the groundwork to support what is gradually revealed about their home life.

similar to how the ‘light-hearted’ framing of qrow’s alcoholism—the fun drunk uncle! he’s always drunk! the inner circle’s exasperation is played for laughs! (winter is furious that he’s drunk. mercury says “he smelled like my dad.”)—sets up for when the narrative gets serious and goes no this is a real problem actually, this has always been a problem, even when the characters brushed it off.

So, regarding your Tai post,

https://www.tumblr.com/bestworstcase/748954216598470656/the-perennial-tai-discourse-is-really-interesting?source=share

I had some thoughts: I technically cover it in a separate post

https://www.tumblr.com/tumblingxelian/749060919422861312/really-solid-addition-here-much-like-with-qrows

But I'm unsure if the links will work so here is a slightly edited & expanded version:

Now, the idea that Ruby & Yang had very different childhoods is not an idea I strictly disagree with. But, I also think it is a bit inaccurate to treat it as outlined in your post.

What I mean is that while Yang is definitely more overt in the fact she feels Tai and the other adults failed them and defaults to centering family moments on Ruby. (For instance she frames the Zwei package as something to cheer Ruby up, its not for her & Ruby's the one really excited, Yang's just kind of there about it)

Despite that, Ruby herself doesn't have a simple relationship with Tai, or in fact she just might but that's not a good thing.

See, Ruby does not think about Tai very often, he's largely an afterthought in her letters for one. But more to the point he is not someone Ruby goes to for advice or guidance or even comfort.

Post Beacon, she mostly gets an update from him and is not bothered to see him go. She is OK being a bit more vulnerable around Qrow.

But the person she actually seeks out and seems utterly shocked at not receiving comfort from is Yang. It was also Yang who she questions for what to do next and Yang whom she confided her plans in before leaving.

Again she is shocked when Yang cannot supply these things to her.

Tai is her dad, but its a superficial relationship, he's nice, he can be fun, she does love him. She does not however, seem to perceive him as a reliable or responsible adult from whom she seeks protection or guidance.

The person she always defaulted to for that was Yang until she could no longer fill the role post V3 which likely fed into her issues with showing vulnerability in V9.

I tend to think she might have been more open to it in V5 given the breakdown tears & hug, but then Yang demonstrated she was still very much not all right & Ruby had no clue what to do. So she just sort of locked into her head that Yang needed 'her' protection now, not the other way around.

I would also just straight up note that even Ruby said it was Yang who raised her. Like, that wasn't even subtle, she knows who the parent was in that house and it wasn't Tai or Qrow. I don't think she'd say that if their childhoods were 'so' different that Tai was a functional parent to her but not Yang.

She definitely has a less... frosty relationship with the two grown men who she grew up around, Largely because they project the saintly Summer onto her and the Wretched Raven onto Yang.

Again, let's not forget Qrow's entirely willing to accept Yang brutalized a kid for shits and giggles or is "crazy". Or that Tai outright sees a lot of Raven in Yang, despite most of the traits he described not meshing with Yang's demonstrated or self described persona.

But even with that more positive relationship being projected onto and still raised by a sister two years your senior isn't exactly ideal. Both sisters had a shitty childhood, both were deeply neglected and failed and suffered because of that fact.

all true! but the nature of parentification is that the children experience the neglect in very different ways; the elder child is forced into an adult role, parenting the younger child, who is harmed in more invisible ways because they do have a caretaker—their sibling. anecdotally nearly every account of a childhood i’ve read by an adult who was raised as a child by older siblings has either alluded to or outright described 1. a much better childhood than their caretaking sibling(s) got, 2. because their sibling(s) shielded them from the worst neglect or abuse.

with that in mind and taking into consideration things like the different reactions to the package from tai (this will cheer ruby up vs ooh, something from home!) and yang staying behind at beacon when tai takes ruby to visit the memorial stone, and now these clear differences in how the girls feel about the boba shop (yang: unsure, downplaying the surprise, maybe it’s dumb / ruby: boba!!!) which probably reflect their emotional experience of the outings with dad (yang: fun, happy that ruby is so excited, not that special otherwise / ruby: magical)…

well, let’s put it this way:

yang did not have a real caretaker starting from age five, when she became the de facto main parent to her three-year-old sister with at best sporadic breaks when qrow wasn’t too blackout drunk / tai was having a good day.

ruby had a primary caretaker who struggled but was always there (yang) and a dad who had to work a lot but made time to do special things like the boba trips so that he could spend quality time with his family (tai). plus an uncle she sometimes needed to help her sister deal with.

yang being parentified has the effect of insulating ruby from the severity of tai’s neglect; in a functional single-income household where one parent stays home and the other works to support the family and both parents are adults who chose this dynamic and enjoy their respective roles, the working parent is not bad or neglectful simply because they aren’t around during the day to take care of the kids, and they can foster close, loving relationships with their children by making the most of the time they have at home. the childhood ruby had was a dysfunctional imitation of that dynamic.

and then factoring in the summer-vs-raven projection, when tai was around he focused on bonding time with ruby moreso than yang.

the net result is that the harm to ruby is much more invisible (yang by virtue of being a child herself could not provide ruby with healthy parent-child boundaries or the emotional stability children need from their parents to feel secure and develop good emotional regulation; tai’s favoritism of ruby being intertwined with idealizing of summer fucked ruby’s sense of self really badly; in the first few volumes ruby feels hurt and bewildered every time yang acts like her sister instead of her parent).

ruby sees clearly and states in volume nine that yang raised her; i don’t think she would have been able to articulate that so plainly in volume one, and this is something she’s come to realize after leaving home / living independently. in v1 it’s “yang used to read to me when we were little” and i’d bet that’s how ruby would phrase everything yang did—as discrete habits, not the combined pattern of “yang raised me.”

whereas yang like. the first thing she does at beacon is try to step away from ruby: encouraging her to meet new people then ditching her to catch up with friends, not wanting to partner up with her for initiation… much as yang loves her sister and enthusiastically supports her, it’s also pretty obvious that yang saw beacon as an opportunity to focus on herself for once. which says to me that she’d already grasped that their home life was messed up and that she needed to break those patterns once she left.

[ovaruling]

@non-suspiciousname @junipercastor i’m not a dietician or doctor disclaimer disclaimer if you have preexisting conditions this may not be for you disclaimer disclaimer i cannot account for every human experience disclaimer disclaimer BUT the easiest way to do this is to first learn what “high fiber foods” means.

and before i begin, here’s how much fiber we more or less need via a helpful Harvard health article.

so, to recap: for women—the ones who matter to me—that’s 25g for adult women who are 50 and under. women 50 and over, that’s 21g.

and i included the extra paragraph about Metamucil etc bc that is important to note. a lot of people do think they’re getting quality daily fiber in these powders.

here’s a helpful article abt the differences between soluble and insoluble fiber. both are important in their own ways!

and just so we’re clear on the benefits of upping your fiber intake:

so!

i recommend a quick google to see the fiber content per serving of a variety of foods that i don’t have time condense here. but, like, beans are a really inexpensive way to do this (add some rice to it and you have a complete muscle-lovin’ protein btw! all the essential amino acids are covered when you combine rice and beans 🫶). beans and legumes are incredibly rich in fiber, and they’re budget-friendly, shelf-stable, and easy to make and easy to incorporate into infinite delicious possible dishes.

but your fiber can be gotten from so many different sources! (my data here is approximate from individual checking. pls allow 1-2g of fiber for margin of error in case i mistype!)

for fruits: 1 cup of blackberries OR raspberries has 8g of fiber!!!!! 1 medium apple has around 4-5g of fiber. an average banana or a serving of strawberries have 3g of fiber. an average avocado has 10g of fiber. and so forth

for grains: steel-cut oats have 5g of fiber per 1/4 cup uncooked (oats are generally rich in fiber anyway, but steel cut in particular). a slice of whole grain bread should have around 3g fiber. brown rice contains 3.5g fiber for every cooked cup. one cup of cooked quinoa (which is also a complete protein!) contains 5g of fiber. bran is almost 15g per one cup serving.

if you’ve got access to chia seeds, a 1oz serving provides 10g fiber. here’s a yummy super easy recipe for peanut butter chia pudding!!!

nuts and seeds provide a lot of fiber too. 1oz of walnuts contains nearly 2g fiber! 1oz of almonds contains 3.5g fiber. peanuts contain 2.5g fiber for 1oz. sunflower seeds are 12g per 1 cup serving (though that’s a lot of them to eat—1/4 a cup would be closer to 3g)

and my fave prunes are 12g per one cup serving. again, that’s a lot of them to eat. 1/4 of that would be 3g.

beans/legumes are king for fiber. 1 cup of cooked black beans contains 15g of fiber. 1 cup of navy beans contains around 19g of fiber. 1 cup of kidney beans contains 11g of fiber.

split peas are i think around 8g per cup when cooked? cooked broccoli is around 5g. corn is around 4g.

i could go on but i’m literally hooked up to an IV for medication rn so i’m one-handed lol i apologize for how cramped this is

but here’s a great list from the Mayo Clinic of high fiber foods and another list of 40 foods from a women’s health mag and also another from healthline, which also has a handy chart for fiber requirements for more specific age groups based on sex

and yes, there are also high-fiber cereals, but beware of the much-touted and rightly-feared ingredient of psyllium husk. it’s more or less used as a laxative and can be outright dangerous for your digestive system and is very painful if not consumed in militant moderation. ask me how i know lol. please please be careful of psyllium husk. like, for real. just stay away from it altogether imo.

sorry this is a lot of discombobulated info, but again i’m one handed at the moment. but hopefully that helps a bit! fiber is linked to longevity and good colon health and that’s what i want for women forever

EDIT: go slow with this! if you’re not used to the recommended daily intake, you will need to gradually work up to this so as not to upset your gastrointestinal system. you may otherwise find yourself in discomfort. GO SLOW. add fiber-rich foods in small portions over time to allow your body to adjust. it is well worth the patience—but don’t overload your system by eating a ton of prunes and thinking you’re doing yourself any good that way. introduce gently and in moderation until you feel comfortable with how it makes your digestion feel!