#my identity issues come from her just doing whatever it takes to stand out a bit while being a tyrant
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Literally nothing in my life makes sense and there’s no escape from it. Even when I try to put my head down and ignore everything.
#my mom just told me to start going by a different last name to get a job#like it’s easy for her she’s never had a multipart religiously Muslim Arabic last name#but decided to make#all her kids have solidly Muslim Arabic names#and now because I guess she feels the effects I can just change it#????? what#she heard how horribly I was bullied daily thoughout elementary middle and high school and forced me in hijab through it all#I’m so angry at her I’m so done with all of this#she knows I plan on changing my name anyway but like.#am I just supposed to ignore the culture I was raised in???? BY HER nonetheless#i get it. i get it she never knew what she wanted to be but all she knew is she wanted to be special or stand out SLIGHTLY#she was fine with all her kids being violently harassed#and just didn’t give a singular fuck#but now this and some other things….it’s hard to deal with#my identity issues come from her just doing whatever it takes to stand out a bit while being a tyrant#while me/my brother/my sister actually tried being good Muslims.
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Everlasting Devotion - Part IX
Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.
Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Warnings: light fluff, light angst, slight violence
Words: 4817
The narrow, dimly lit alley was eerily quiet, save for the soft shuffle of boots on cobblestone. Two figures move with purposeful grace, their sharp gaze scanning the path ahead.
“Queens don’t usually involve themselves in investigations and missions like this,” Steve remarks pointedly, casting a sidelong glance at the concealed figure beside him.
“That’s not true,” Natasha counters smoothly, not breaking stride. “My parents didn’t stand on the sidelines when they were king and queen. They were always involved. Besides, she’s my sister,” she adds firmly. “It’s my responsibility to know what she’s up to.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.
“And I’m sure this has nothing to do with avoiding your mother’s request for some of your time today.”
Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, choosing to say nothing as her response, but that silence is answer enough.
Steve sighs knowingly.
“If you don’t want a big celebration for your birthday, you can just tell her.”
Natasha’s mouth twists slightly, though her hood hides the expression from him.
It wasn’t the celebration itself that she had a problem with.
The real issue was that no matter how extravagant or intimate the event, it wouldn’t change the fact that she couldn’t spend the day with the one person she wanted to celebrate it with the most.
Her thoughts flicker back to last year.
Of how the supposedly joyous occasion had instead become a day marred by chaos and trauma.
She had hoped this year could be different—a chance to create a new memory of happiness to replace the past.
But with circumstances as they are, that hope seems far-fetched.
Natasha lets out a quiet sigh, pushing the thought aside.
There was no use dwelling on it now. She’ll just accept whatever idea her mother comes up with when she returns.
Refocusing, she turns her attention to their current mission: finding Yelena and figuring out exactly what she’d gotten herself into this time.
The investigation had led them to this part of town, notorious for its shady dealings and less-than-reputable characters.
Natasha’s sharp eyes dart to the buildings they pass, noting the darkened windows and wary faces that peeked out from behind curtains.
As they go deeper into the streets, more signs of life emerge, yet it’s still strangely hushed, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Natasha notices something else, too. The way the crowd parted as they walked, people giving them a wide berth.
Suspicious glances were thrown their way, not at her—her cloak did well to obscure her identity—but at Steve.
The towering blond man was receiving a mix of wary and curious looks, and it didn’t take much to figure out why.
Natasha sighs again, this time with a hint of exasperation.
“No offense, Steve,” she begins, her voice carrying a dry edge, “but you’re terrible at blending in.”
Steve glances down at himself, confused. His attire was casual, certainly nothing out of the ordinary—simple trousers, a loose shirt, and a cloak.
“What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.
She gestures toward him.
“Your posture, your stance. The way you carry yourself. It screams ‘knight.’”
Steve straightens reflexively at her comment, clearly unsure whether to take it as a compliment or a criticism.
“I’m just walking.”
“You’re marching,” Natasha corrects, her tone flat. “Head high, shoulders back, always scanning like you’re guarding someone.”
“That’s cause I am,” Steve points out, only half-defensively.
Natasha rolls her eyes and continues down the path with her leading the way as Steve falls a step behind, attempting—unsuccessfully—to appear less imposing.
As they round a corner, the faint sound of barking reaches Natasha’s ears. Her eyes scan the area, and she spots two dogs just outside a tavern.
At first glance, their coats muddied and darkened with soot nearly fool her, but when Natasha observes them closer, she recognizes the familiarity.
Narrowing her eyes, Natasha whistles softly, a distinct sound she knew only a select few would recognize.
One of the dogs immediately perks up, its ears twitching. It turns toward her, tail wagging enthusiastically, before trotting over with a familiar bounce.
“Hey, Fanny,” Natasha greets, crouching slightly to pat the dog’s head. Her voice carries a mix of affection and exasperation. “Where’s Yelena?”
The dog barks once in response before turning toward the tavern door, her nose pointing unmistakably in its direction.
Natasha straightens with a sigh.
“I’m guessing Kate’s with her too,” Steve remarks, his eyes drifting to the other dog in the distance. He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “As a knight in training, she should know better than to let Yelena be in places like this.”
“Trust me,” Natasha says knowingly. “I’m sure she tried her best to stop her. This is Yelena we’re talking about.”
Her focus shifts to Kate's dog, Lucky, who is still barking excitedly at something high in the air.
Frowning, Natasha tilts her head, trying to glimpse whatever had captured the dog’s attention.
Her heart stops when she notices the faint outline of a bird circling above—and the unmistakable flash of red feathers on one of the wings.
“Steve,” Natasha says sharply, grabbing his arm and pointing toward the falcon. “Tell me that’s just some random bird.”
Steve follows her line of sight, his jaw tightening as he hesitates. Finally, he lets out a low, noncommittal sound, which only confirm her suspicions.
Natasha exhales a long, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, wondering why in the world you are in such a dangerous part of town.
Steve must’ve mistaken her reaction for nervousness to meet with you again after witnessing the small confrontation between you and her during the council meeting.
“You want to stay out here while I go in?” Steve offers, already stepping forward.
Natasha stops him with a wave of her hand.
“No. You’ll draw too much attention in there,” she says. “Stay here and secure the perimeter.”
Steve nods reluctantly, stepping back as Natasha moves to step inside.
The moment she enters, a wave of noise and activity hits her. Natasha’s eyes quickly scan the space, taking note of exits, potential threats, and the clusters of people gathered in conversation.
Her attention is soon drawn to a commotion at the far end of the room.
Rowdy onlookers surround a table, their cheers and jeers rising above the din. As she moves closer, fragments of conversation reach her ears, punctuated by a familiar voice.
“Aww, is the big man scared?” a teasing tone rings out, followed by a roar of laughter from the crowd.
Natasha sighs exasperatedly, muttering under her breath, “Yelena…”
The crowd shifts, giving her a clearer view of the table.
There was her sister, masked and oddly sporting black hair but unmistakable as she leaned back in her chair with an infuriatingly confident grin.
Across from her sat a burly man, his face red with anger as he glared at his cards.
Behind Yelena, another figure stands nervously—a masked woman fidgeting with the bow strapped on her back.
“Kate,” Natasha murmurs, shaking her head.
Her gaze sweeps the crowd once more until it finally lands on you.
You were blending in among the other patrons, partially obscured by the hood of your cloak, but to Natasha, you always stand out above everyone else in her eyes.
Natasha immediately moves toward you, weaving her way through the crowd.
As she approaches, she notices your body tense as your gaze locks onto something at the table.
Natasha follows your line of sight, her expression frowning when she sees what had caused your reaction.
Yelena was casually twirling a dagger in her hand, the blade catching the light.
Natasha’s frown deepens when she realizes it wasn’t just any dagger—it was the one she had lent Yelena, the one you had gifted her.
And Yelena appears to be contemplating using it as part of her wager.
At the possibility, Natasha could see the tension increase in your frame, the way you clench your fists and begin to step forward.
Not wanting you to be in the middle of a confrontation, Natasha reacts instinctively, reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you back into the cover of the crowd.
What she didn’t expect was for you to jab your elbow sharply into her side.
The sudden impact made her loosen her grip slightly, though she didn’t entirely let go.
Instead, she tilts her head to meet your gaze, her hood revealing just enough for you to recognize her.
“Natasha?” you hiss, your tone both surprised and accusatory.
Natasha rubs the spot where you’d elbowed her, a smirk tugging at her lips despite the situation.
“Not bad,” she remarks, a note of pride in her voice.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, flustered.
Moving closer, you instinctively rub soothing circles on the spot you had hit before your eyes widen in realization.
“Wait a second!” you continue, giving her a softer but reprimanding smack on the arm. “You’re not even supposed to be here! What are you doing here?”
Natasha raises an eyebrow, throwing the question right back at you.
“What are you doing here?”
Your eyes widen as if remembering the reason for your presence here, and you hesitate, your eyes darting away.
Natasha recognizes the look immediately—it was the one you always wore when you were about to dodge a subject.
Before she could press further, you shake your head and deflect the conversation.
“Why does Yelena have the gift I gave you?” you ask, your tone sharp.
“I let her borrow it,” Natasha replies simply, though her voice carries an edge of regret now.
“Well, she’s about to bet it in a game of cards,” you snap back, frustration clear.
Natasha’s brows furrow, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“I’m sure Yelena is just messing around. She wouldn’t—”
“All right, all in!” Yelena’s voice rings out, triumphant and smug.
Natasha’s jaw drops, her eyes snapping up.
“I’m going to kill her,” she growls, about to push through the crowd, but you hold her arms, stopping her in her tracks and blocking her way.
“You can’t risk revealing yourself here, Natasha,” you whisper in warning, your voice low but firm. “Think about it—one wrong move, and everyone in this room will know who you are.”
Natasha pauses, her gaze flickering between you and the other shady characters around her, weighing her options. More than half of them probably wouldn’t hesitate to attack or try to capture and use who she is for their own gain.
Knowing you’re right, she exhales sharply and gives you a curt nod in agreement to stay put.
The two of you turn to watch as the game proceeds.
Despite the precarious situation, Natasha can’t help but feel her focus shift momentarily when your hand finds hers, gently pulling it around your midsection.
The inviting gesture is instinctive–natural–as though you belong there in her arms.
Natasha’s hold tightens slightly, drawing you closer until your back rests entirely against her. Her chin dips subtly, brushing against the edge of your hood, and she allows herself a moment to simply exist in the comfort of your warmth.
The chaotic noise of the tavern fades just a little, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing.
Like always, you fit perfectly against her, a seamless connection that feels as familiar as it is grounding.
Natasha’s fingers spread against your midsection, her touch firm yet protective, as if anchoring you to her in this swirling world of chaos.
A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, one that she doesn’t even try to suppress.
If she could stay like this—holding you close, feeling your warmth and presence—she wouldn’t ask for anything more.
To stay in this moment, that would be her perfect wish for her birthday: no grand celebrations, no feasts, just you in her arms, safe and near.
But the moment is fleeting.
Natasha’s attention is pulled away when the crowd erupts with cheers and groans. She stiffens slightly, her gaze snapping back to the table.
Yelena is standing now, triumphant as she gathers her winnings, your gift safely returned to her side.
You release a sigh of relief, relaxing back against Natasha as the possible conflict appears to subside.
Her arms remain around you for a moment longer, her protective instincts keeping you close, but her eyes also focus on her sister to ensure her safety too.
As Yelena turns to leave, the burly man across from her slams his fists onto the surface. The noise reverberates through the room, silencing the crowd and drawing every gaze to him.
“You think you can just make a fool out of me, take my money, and walk away?” he growls, his face flushed with anger and humiliation. His chair scrapes loudly against the floor as he stands, towering over Yelena.
“Sit back down. We’re playing another round.”
Yelena’s masked face tilts slightly, her body language relaxed, almost amused.
“Sorry, big guy,” she says airily. “A deal’s a deal. You lost. Better luck next time.”
The man’s hand darts out, grabbing her arm in a bruising grip.
“I said sit down,” he snarls, his voice dropping to a dangerous level.
Standing just behind Yelena, Kate freezes, her hand twitching toward her bow, but she hesitates, clearly unsure how to proceed.
Natasha tenses, her protective instincts flaring as she starts to move forward.
“No,” you whisper sharply, stopping her with a firm grip on her arm. “You can’t.”
Her head snaps to you, disbelief flashing in her eyes.
“He’s threatening my sister,” she hisses, her voice low but deadly.
“And if you step in, they might recognize you, and we’ll have an even bigger problem,” you remind her, your voice calm but insistent. “Let me handle this.”
“Handle it?” Natasha repeats incredulously, her gaze flicking between you and the escalating situation at the table. “How?”
“Just trust me,” you say, already stepping forward before she can stop you.
Natasha clenches her fists, her jaw tightening as she watches you approach the table.
Her every instinct screams to intervene, but she forces herself to stay put, trusting you despite the growing knot of worry in her chest.
You slip through the crowd, your movements calm and deliberate, raising your hands in a placating gesture as you approach the table.
“Now, let’s not let a friendly game turn into something regrettable,” you say, your voice carrying just enough authority to catch everyone’s attention.
The burly man turns his glare to you, his grip on Yelena’s arm tightening. His eyes raked over you suspiciously.
“Who the hell are you?” he demands, his tone dripping with hostility.
Without a word, you reach up and lower your hood, revealing your face.
“I’m Lady Y/n Dreykov.”
Kate audibly sucked in a breath. “Oh…”
“…shit,” Yelena finishes for her, her voice tinged with surprise and apprehension.
Your house title is usually effective in any scenario, though with recent events, the response is slightly different than the previous caution and fear. Around the room, murmured whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
“Hold on…Dreykov? As in the traitors?”
“Never imagined their house would fall this low…”
Natasha’s hands curled into fists, her anger bubbling to the surface at the words directed at you.
Nearby, a particularly unpleasant man pushes forward through the crowd, his smirk leering.
“Well, if the lady wants a friend to play with, I can show her how friendly we are down here,” he slurs with a disgusting grin.
As he passes Natasha, his shoulder pushing hers, she acts in a swift, calculated motion.
With a discreet move, she stomps down hard on his foot. The man yelps, doubling over in pain, and Natasha smoothly delivers a sharp punch to his stomach. He collapses to the ground with a strangled heave, clutching his midsection as he remains in his prone position.
Natasha casually resumes her stance, her expression neutral as she glances around the room. The other patrons barely notice, dismissing the man’s collapse as the effects of too much alcohol.
Meanwhile, you remain composed and unflinching despite the murmurs around you, your attention focused solely on the man still holding Yelena’s arm.
“How about another game?” you offer, your tone calm but laced with subtle authority.
The man’s eyes narrow, suspicion and pride warring on his face. “With you?”
Without answering, you reach into your cloak and pull out a hefty pouch of coins, setting it on the table with a deliberate thud. The clinking of the coins is unmistakable, drawing the attention of the entire room.
The man’s gaze flicks to the pouch, his expression shifting slightly. The allure of more money is clear in his eyes, but so is his wariness.
After a long pause, he releases Yelena, who is quickly pulled away to a safe distance by Kate, and sits back down, gesturing to the seat across from him.
“All right,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Let’s see if you’re as lucky as that brat is.”
You smile faintly, taking your seat.
Among the crowd, Natasha watches closely, her eyes never leaving you.
Despite the situation, a light smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she watches you pick up the deck of cards and begin shuffling. She knows better than anyone that luck has little to do with your skill.
Games, puzzles, strategy—these have always been your strong suit. Natasha learned long ago never to challenge you to anything like that without careful planning or calculated risks.
“Let’s all just have a good time,” you say, your voice smooth and pleasant, as you deal the cards.
That same enchanting smile Natasha knows so well graces your lips, the kind of smile that always manages to lower defenses and captivate attention.
The game begins, and as Natasha predicted, you quickly prove yourself.
Each move you make is calculated and deliberate, a balance of strategy and subtlety. Unlike Yelena’s bold, audacious style, your approach is graceful and humble, drawing in the crowd with your calm confidence.
The tension that previously dominated the room dissipates, replaced by a calmer atmosphere of camaraderie. The cutthroat gambling match now feels more like a friendly game among peers.
Even your opponent, whose gruff exterior seemed impenetrable, starts to show hints of amusement.
Laughter and cheers ripple through the room with every round, and the growing excitement draws an even larger crowd. The press of bodies around the table pushes Natasha forward slightly, giving her a better view of the unfolding scene.
Impressed murmurs rise from the onlookers until one in particular catches her attention.
“Can you believe this, Happy?” a voice nearby cuts through the noise. “You give her some money for a drink, and she spends it on a game instead.”
Natasha’s brows furrow at the words, her gaze discreetly scanning the crowd for the source, but with so many people packed tightly around her, it’s difficult to pinpoint.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she notices something that makes her stomach tighten with unease—a faint yellow glow emanating from beneath a cloaked figure’s arm before it’s quickly concealed.
Natasha’s instincts flare. Her eyes lock onto the figure, who she realizes is weaving steadily through the crowd toward the table—toward you.
Immediately, Natasha moves to follow, her focus trained on the cloaked individual as she slips through the crowd. She edges closer toward the center, her eyes never leaving the figure, until she reaches Yelena and Kate’s position at the edge of the gathering.
Reaching their side, Natasha places a hand on Yelena’s shoulder, startling her younger sister slightly. Yelena looks up abruptly, her mouth falling open in recognition. Before Yelena can say a word, Natasha’s expression hardens, and she gives her a stern warning glare.
The message is clear: Stay quiet and stay back.
Natasha ushers Yelena and Kate behind her, positioning herself as a barrier between them and whatever threat there might be.
Her focus snaps back to the figure just as they reach the front of the crowd, their attention fixed solely on you.
At that moment, the game reaches its climax with another of your perfectly executed moves. Cheers erupt from the crowd as you lay your cards on the table.
The burly man opposite you grumbles, his frustration masked by the impressed grin he offers. Coins clink as they are added to your growing pile of winnings, and the lively energy in the room swelled.
Then it happened.
Taking advantage of the eruption of cheers and laughter, the cloaked figure lunges forward, their gloved hand outstretched with a glowing stone aimed directly at you.
Natasha reacts immediately, her body moving faster than her thoughts as she rushes toward the attacker. Just as she is about to reach them, another blur of motion also intercepts the figure’s strike at the same time.
A stranger appears between you and the attacker.
Natasha pauses for a split second, her mind registering that this new figure was also equipped with a glove strikingly similar to the attacker’s, except without the glowing hue.
The stranger’s gloved hand shoots out, meeting the attacker’s mid-lunge, the impact emitting a sharp, resonant hum. A sudden force erupts between the gloves, repelling the attacker’s hand backward, away from you.
With the attack directed at you momentarily thwarted, Natasha seizes the opportunity.
Her hand darts out, grabbing the attacker’s wrist with a steely grip. But as her fingers brushed against the glowing stone embedded in the glove, her mind was yanked somewhere else entirely.
For a split second, she wasn’t in the tavern. Instead, she was back in that hauntingly vivid moment—that moment.
Blood spilled across her hands as you lay crumpled in her arms, your face pale and your breathing faint. The weight of helplessness and fear pressed down on her chest as she screamed your name, her voice raw and desperate.
Natasha gasps sharply, shaking herself free of the memory with a force of will. She focuses on the present, channeling her rattled emotions into action.
With a fluid, precise maneuver, she twists the attacker’s wrist and uses their momentum against them. In one seamless motion, she flips them onto the table. The wood splinters beneath the force, shattering on impact, and a bright light explodes and fills the room.
Coins scattered everywhere, clinking against the floor in a chaotic cacophony.
Immediately, the tavern erupts into chaos. Some people surge forward, scrambling for the spilled coins, while others take advantage of the confusion to pick fights. Shouts and crashes fill the air.
Natasha stands amidst the chaos, her chest heaving as her breathing turns shallow and erratic. Her gaze remains locked on the now dimming stone at the downed figure’s side, suspicion and unease growing in her chest.
The vision—the memory—lingers in her mind, vivid and suffocating. She couldn’t shake the image of your blood on her hands.
But then a warm, familiar touch cups her face gently, breaking through her spiraling thoughts.
Her wide, unfocused eyes meet yours, and though your lips are moving, she couldn’t hear the words. It felt distant, muffled by the storm raging in her mind.
Slowly, the sounds of the room begin to return—the shouting, the clamor of fists and chairs—but your voice is what brings her back.
“Natasha,” you repeat, your tone firm yet soothing. “Look at me. Are you okay?”
Her gaze locks on your searching ones, the chaotic storm in her mind settling slightly as she absently nods, grounding herself in your presence. Then her eyes dart around, taking in the havoc unfolding around you.
“We need to go,” she says abruptly, her voice regaining its strength. She grabs your hand firmly, pulling you through the crowd. With practiced efficiency, she navigates the chaos, quickly locating Kate and Yelena near the back of the room.
“Move!” Natasha commands, ushering the two younger women ahead of her as she keeps you close at her side. Together, the four of you slip out into the night, the muffled sounds of chaos fading behind you.
Outside, Natasha leads you to a quiet alley, her breathing still uneven. She leans against the wall, her hand gripping your arm as though grounding herself further.
The glowing stone haunts her thoughts, and the memory it brought up lingers in the back of her mind. But when she looks at you, alive and whole in front of her, she feels the faintest flicker of relief.
“Are you okay?” you ask softly, brushing your hand over hers.
Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, Natasha nods quick but stiffly, her lips pressing into a tight line.
“I’m fine,” she says, though the slight tremble in her voice betrayed her. “We’re fine.”
Before you could press further, Steve’s voice emerges from the shadows, his gaze scanning over the four of you with concern. “Everyone okay? What happened in there?”
“Nat started a bar fight by throwing a guy,” Yelena answers plainly, her tone far too nonchalant for the situation.
Natasha releases a deep breath, scoffing in disbelief as she straightens and turns to glare at her sister.
“You mean, saving your ass from getting killed. What were you thinking, Yelena, going into a place like that and provoking them?”
Before the argument can escalate, you step in front of Natasha, placing a calming hand on her arm. Across from you, Kate mirrors your actions, gently restraining Yelena. Together, the two of you create a barrier between the sisters, preventing the brewing storm from erupting.
A low whistle interrupts the tension, drawing everyone’s attention to the side of the group.
Natasha turns her head sharply, her eyes locking onto the same stranger who had intervened during the tavern fight. He was approaching them with another man following close behind.
“Like I said,” the stranger says with a smirk, his words Natasha realizes directed at you, “you really know how to attract trouble, huh?”
Natasha’s gaze flicks to you, finding your expression twisted into an annoyed scowl. A deep sigh escapes your lips, and your hand instinctively pushes Natasha slightly behind you, as if shielding her from view.
“You didn’t need to step in,” you say, your tone sharp and clipped.
“Clearly,” the stranger replies smoothly, his eyes flickering across the group before settling on Natasha. His gaze drops briefly to your hand on her arm, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Looks like you’ve got more people protecting you than just those little twins.”
He nudges the man beside him. “Look, Happy, she even has a knight playing dress-up.”
Natasha shoots a pointed look at Steve, her expression screaming I told you so.
Steve sighs, clearly catching her unspoken message, and shifts his attention to the stranger, his posture tightening as his eyes narrowed slightly.
“We should probably go, sir,” the man named Happy suggests quietly, eyeing the group warily.
“Yes, please do,” you snap, your irritation palpable.
Natasha’s brows furrow as she watches you. She’d never seen you this short-tempered with someone before.
The stranger’s smirk only widens at your tone.
“Fair enough,” he says, turning to leave with a wave of his hand. “Oh, and a small warning,” he adds, glancing over his shoulder, “you’d better bring her home safely. There’s a little redhead who’ll throw a tantrum if you don’t.”
Natasha catches your irritated sigh as you turn back toward her. Tilting her head slightly, she asks, “Who was that?”
You exhale deeply, running a hand over your face.
“Just ignore him,” you mutter. “He’s someone I hired to help fix the gate at my manor.”
Natasha opens her mouth to press further, but her sharp instincts catch movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns swiftly, her gaze zeroing in on the two figures attempting to slip away unnoticed.
“Don’t even think about it,” Natasha calls out, her voice sharp as a whip.
Yelena freezes mid-step, groaning loudly before turning back around to face her sister.
“What?” she asks, her tone feigning innocence as her arms crossed over her chest.
Natasha crosses her own arms, leveling an unimpressed glare at Yelena before shifting her focus to Kate, who stands awkwardly beside her. Under Natasha’s intense scrutiny, Kate caves quickly.
“Yelena made me promise not to tell you!” Kate blurts out, pointing at Yelena as if to absolve herself of guilt.
“Really, Kate Bishop?” Yelena gasps, swatting Kate’s hand down. “Where is the loyalty?”
The two begin bickering, their voices overlapping as they try to blame each other for the current situation. Natasha closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly in exhaustion.
Steve interrupts the argument with a firm clap of his hands.
“Can we continue this somewhere safer?”
You glance around the dark alley, your expression skeptical.
“Is there even such a place around here?”
Yelena raises her hand with a slight, proud smirk.
“I know one.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
a/n: Thank you for the sweet messages about this series. I'm glad to see that you all are excited whenever there's an update. Again, thanks for reading!
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#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x you#black widow x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanov x reader#natasha romanoff
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I have seen that you are very open about supporting trans people and that your pronouns are they/them. How were you able to understand that you were trans? (If you are.) I've honestly felt so confused lately and don't have anyone I can ask about this. I love your ftm ghost art. I think it is amazing. I just don't know what to do or how I'll ever be able to figure out myself. Totally not your job but was curious if you had advice.
Not sure how helpful this will be, because my trans experience is deeply interlinked with my Dissociative Identity Disorder and Autism, so I'm sorry if this is a bit confusing.
What is Dissociative Identity Disorder
Dissociative Identity Disorder - Terms and Definitions
Autism and Gender
The reason why I go by they/them is because we're literally multiple people. Our two Hosts Aiden and Lydia (aka the alters interacting most with the world outside of our own head) are a man and a woman. We spend all our time together, sharing a body and the control over it.
We used to go by he/she, but people would only view us as a girl because of our body, so we switched to they/them. It makes more sense and feels better to be acknowledged together instead of Aiden being left out all the damn time.
Now bear with me here.
Though Lydia is a cis women, she grew up never belonging anywhere because we're autistic, so she feels like an imposter and a fraud when trying to connect to her feminity. Most days we barely feel human at all because we've been othered all our life. But she still views herself as a woman - motherhood in particular is a big important part of her.
Aiden is a trans man, but he doesn't mind our feminine body and doesn't plan on getting surgery ever. Testosterone maybe, but even that isn't super important to him at the moment. To him knowing he's a man is enough, passing isn't a priority at all. And because all of our Littles are girls he's rather protective of their body - any kind of medical procedure would cause a lot of fear in them.
He realized he's trans because he preferred a male name for himself, short hair and male clothing. It happened very quickly because exploring gender has never been an issue for us, it's fun and simply felt comfortable.
We do have two Agender Alters, but they don't come out in our regular daily life. They don't feel like anything really, they're deeply connected to nature and just want to exist as genderless beings, so they prefer not taking control of our body. It feels peaceful not being put into a box or defined by gender expectations and whatever other bullshit the world comes up with.
In the past we used to have another trans male Host, but he was suffering deeply from gender dysphoria. He couldn't stand the sight of our body or existing in it and became very self destructive about it. Until one day he just stopped coming out and hasn't been back since.
Before I even realized I had DID, gender wasn't really a concept to me. Same with names, it just didn't make sense to me why someone couldn't just change their name if they didn't like the one their parents gave them for whatever reason. I think of people as people, not boys and girls. Sure there are physical differences, but the meanings/genderroles we attributed to them are completely made up.
Folks love nagging me about how I draw my Ghost, but the truth is he can walk around looking like a cis girl and still be a man, I truly dgaf. So what if he's smaller and more delicate looking next to that big bear of a captain, that doesn't make him any less of a man.
The best advice I can give is you don't need to label yourself if you don't want to. You can experiment and just see what feels good. Maybe you'll find a label or make a plan along the way, but don't feel pressured to.
Common things people do is try out a different name, change their pronouns, create and play as video game characters of the opposite gender/sex (or gender non-conforming in general), listen to trans playlists/musicians, shop clothes/stuff in the other section (including underwear or things like jewelry ect), read books or watch movies about different kinds of trans characters, watch video essays about trans topics, create OCs or sonas, look at trans art and watch/read about other people's trans journeys.
Of course there are "what's my gender identity" tests you can take too, idk how helpful those are but I guess they can give you a bit more insight and maybe make you ask questions that you haven't asked yourself before.
Lastly here's a list of gender identities and definitions that might be beneficial to have a look at, as well as my trans resource list I put together last month about what can be done to change your gender in various ways
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oooh ok i have a roy question for you! you mentioned in your 'favorite thing about roy' post that him killing electrocutioner was in character for him (i think i agree), could you expand on that? also, regarding rise of arsenal*, is there anything else from it that you think has bits of good characterization, or at least could have if actually done well?
*which imo is pretty awful and poorly executed (and i hate the idea of antihero/villain roy SO much). dead cat panel my beloathed.
Hi, thanks for the ask!
I'm gonna preface this and say I totally agree with you on hating Rise of Arsenal. I know some people really like it, and I can respect that, but personally I really didn't like it. It did it's job of making me cry (every time I have to collect panels from it I tear up), but other than that it was very much just shock value and didn't show much care for any of the characters portrayed in it imo. I also didn't like the way that Roy killed the electrocutioner, I said in my original post that it felt like a villain origin story and I stand by that, it reminds me a little of the Joker movie in some ways which isn't a positive.
That being said, I do think that Roy killing the electrocutioner was in character. I don't think Roy's a killer, which is what RoA seemed to imply (very "one bad day"-esque), but I do think that Lian's death would be the one instance he'd make the conscious decision to take a life. I'm a little tipsy tonight so I can't think of any other examples and I don't have the energy to go searching through comics so take this all with a pinch of salt, but the one example that comes to mind is in his Arsenal mini, where he teams up with Vandal in order to save Lian. Sure, he ends up switching sides mid-fight, but Lian's alive and there's a very real chance that he can find another option to save her (which he does). But I think that comic demonstrates that Roy is willing to bend his moral code when it comes to Lian. I mean, in that same mini it shows something similar, him taking a life in order to protect someone else in the Checkmate flashback in issue 2.
I'm not saying that Roy's an anti-hero, in fact I think he's actually a really good symbol of what a hero should be most of the time, he's a genuinely good man who gets back up when he gets knocked down, and while he does have a reputation of being I guess 'sleazy' he's actually closer to being a boyscout. I can't remember where but it's like that issue in Outsiders where Grace says that Roy doesn't belong in the Outsiders, he's too much of a 'conventional hero' I guess.
But I also don't think his moral code is as strict as, say, Batman's. I know that Bruce did initially want to kill Joker after death in the family, but that whole comic was kinda a mess (Joker being an ambassador for Iran will always confuse the shit out of me), and the main conflict of UtRH was Bruce not killing the Joker, so I'm focusing more on what happened than intent. Although, that is actually another good comparison point for UtRH and RoA. Bruce had Clark there to stop him, whereas throughout RoA one of the biggest points (which I hate) is Roy's isolation. Dinah, who's consistently been one of Roy's biggest supporters, is barely present, and most of the people in his life either dismiss his grief or actively make things worse for him, which really made it easy to kill the electrocutioner. Anyway, I realise I've digressed a lot from the original ask.
Yeah, I do think that killing the electrocutioner was in character for Roy. Again with the Bat comparisons, excluding whatever the hell was going on after Jason died in Death in the Family, Bruce has to be Batman first. Bruce can't kill the Joker, because Batman can't kill the Joker. Roy? He's always been Roy first, at least in my opinion. A lot of the time his identity's at least somewhat public knowledge (Istg there's a panel where he says that, maybe in Titans '99, but either way he literally just wore sunglasses as his disguise for a big part of his hero career so I mean. Who's he hiding from.) Ever since Lian was born, he's been a father first hero second a lot of the time. It reminds me of that video of "would you kill for your kid", and I think Roy would. I think that without the fear of 'what'll Lian think', Roy would be pushed past that point needed to take a life. I don't think he'd become an anti-hero because of it, I hate pretty much everything post-RoA in the New Earth continuity in relation to Roy, but do I think he'd avenge his baby? Yeah.
And for the second half of your ask, the thing is I don't per se think Roy's characterisation was the issue. I think it was mostly the characterisation of everyone else around him. Roy should not have been that isolated during RoA. Plus the writing was all shit, it was just an excuse to have Roy relapse. I'm not saying that Roy relapsing was unrealistic after what happened to Lian, but it's clear that the writers genuinely didn't care about telling a story of grief and addiction when writing it, they just wanted something was maximum shock value.
So yeah. In conclusion, I hate RoA, it makes me cry and IMO it was really shitty writing, Roy would've killed the electrocutioner but not Like That, and where the fuck was his support system.
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i think 🐈⬛ and 🐆 having a type in the same type of man on different spectrums is both funny and speaks to their characters actually
(this is also deeply interconnected with my thoughts of the bp and gj considering themselves to be the same person, their other half, the one who both compliments and completes them, etc)
🐈⬛ is with♟️ who's a stark contrast to herself.
she's always up and doing something to keep herself busy because, technically, she thinks her worth is tied to how useful she can be. she doesn't want anyone to be treated the same way she was as a child (even if scenarios are different, the similarities are still there, to her), so she always makes sure those she loves wants for not and are always feeling fulfilled.
on the other hand, he's selfish. he'll do what he wants when he wants because he runs on his own clock and doesn't want to go back to doing this, that, and the third just to please someone who will never look. while stubborn, he does things for his own gain (and sometimes others, if he cared about them enough, in a poorly disguised "well, if this isn't working for you, you won't stop bugging me until it does, so.." type of way). and, while this is also, he's also, for lack of a better word, lazy. once again, he runs on his own clock. so what if you needed him somewhere yesterday? he'll get there when he gets there and you'll be happy when he does.
🐈⬛ loathes being stationary for to long. who's going to make sure her boys are fed? who's going to remind muhammed that he needs to take it easy? who's going to take care of that stack of essays mr. mozus can't do because his eyes get all strained and start making up issues that aren't there? who's going to keep her nation safe from that new villain of the week? who's—
♟️ forces her to lay down and actually sleep for once, even if she doesn't need to. yes, she's basically a hyperactive mess who's just a little better than cheka, but she doesn't need to be. while she is the bp, she is also elvira, of w.akanda. as much as it may seem to be, it isn't her only identity and she doesn't need to constantly be doing things for other people. she needs to slow down and actually live normally, and, no, traveling across dimensions like it's a field trip doesn't count.
🍰 is so different from 🐆, no words can properly articulate the shock everyone felt when they got together.
🐆 is a combination of 🐈⬛ and ♟️. she's always doing something, but it's always for her own gain (supposedly). that museum she robbed? she really wanted to try that necklace on for herself (she returned it to it's rightful owners). that gang she and group jumped? they were talking shit about her and she couldn't let them go around thinking they could do whatever (they were planning on fear-mongering every business in this mall she frequents)! she's a bad person and she owns it. she'll do whatever she needs if it means her dreams are realized and it doesn't matter what it is.
meanwhile, he's just some human who happened to meet her through a mutual friend as kids. he's the son of a couple who are bakers who has an interest in tooth health. he's nowhere near her strength or wealth and could only dream of coming close to the pedestal she stands on. he's only used to the mundane life that comes with living a life like his. the level of violence she's exposed to and bleeds out is something he'll never have to deal with and tanya's sure to make him thankful he won't.
when her day finally comes to an end, he always ready for her with open arms. he's patient and always keeps the light on his porch on for her whenever she's ready. he's the domesticity the excitement in her life can't serve to her on a tray in the mornings, or lift her feet into their lap and massage at her ankles after months of standing.
🍰 is as boring as they come, and 🐆 could never be more glad.
#🐈⬛ 🖇️ 🐆 🖇️ 🦮#🍰 🖇️ 🐆#♟️ 🖇️ 🐈⬛#the whole family is an analogy for mental illness but they are literally incapable of being mentally ill
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I feel like you've shared your thoughts before on why you don't relate to settings/stories where the process of transitioning is 'solved' through what is functionally a instant button or spell etc and the character then proceeds to not need to interact with their transness again and you much prefer the approach you've taken in IKROAH, but I can't seem it find it. Any chance you know where it is or feel like elaborating on it again?
the short version is that i don't enjoy depictions of trans people who have undergone some form of sci-fi futuristic full-body transmogrification or have taken some fantasy magic transformation potion to become the person that they are (in the context of IKROAH, I used to get asked a lot, "why doesn't Agnes just get a lifetime supply of hormones/her whole body replaced by an auto-doc?") because it's a depiction of trans people that has had transition completely excised out of it. a single perfect procedure that just makes you into who you would have been if you'd been born as the other one instead. this is, to start, really boring. it makes me feel like the author views early transition people, or visibly trans non-passing people in general, as unpleasant or unsavory or otherwise worth just glossing over. meanwhile, i love such people. is there room for them in this world you've created where a perfect cis-congruent body is just one potion away? or where "transition" exclusively happens somehow conveniently off-screen, and when they come back they're all "done"? if you're going to go this route then at least tether it to some very real familiarities: how are these procedures gatekept; what structures exist that allow them to continue being gatekept; what happens to the trans people who cannot access these procedures; how do the people who get these procedures feel about this disparity; etc.
because the defining condition of my life as a trans woman is artificial scarcity. my hormones are constantly getting delayed. electrolysis costs $10,000 and is one of the most excruciatingly painful things on the planet to undergo. i feel like a silly pervert even just thinking about how i'll one day have to explain to an uncaring insurance company that a breast augmentation is actually a necessary procedure. in the meantime i just keep living. sometimes it sucks. it's a lot better than it used to be, because i've got years of experience now, but it still sucks sometimes. this is transition. the constant, perpetual process of becoming and stabilizing where your personal needs and material conditions intersect. it's beautiful and frustrating and means everything to me. these magic sci-fi/fantasy solutions that just "solve" the "issue" of being trans with no drawback, no difficulty, no viscerality, no fragility, they just leave all of these things that mean so much to me completely on the table. shapeshifters and fantasy solutions can make for interesting subtext but trying to make it text just seems so hollow because, like, i'm sorry, but no, this bears zero resemblance to how transition works for real people on the planet earth right now, you cannot have your cake and eat it too
like, in Star Trek, Jadzia Dax can stand in for a lot of trans stuff. she even has to deal, often, with the legacy of her "past identity." but before saying "she's literally trans!", what if the woman's body that the trill was put into was a trans woman, who was transitioning, who is actually literally trans. what if there was an actual literal trans woman on the ship that she could interact with, "compare notes" about such significant "life changes" as it were. i've got huge transsexual feelings about a ton of characters from random shit that just give me vibes or things to think about. and to reiterate i absolutely love transsexual subtext. but i also love it when characters in genre fiction actually put hormones in their bodies sometimes or otherwise live transsexually in settings where that isn't possible with whatever it takes. but the final thing, and this is the most crucial, is that i also don't want any of these literally transsexual characters in genre fiction to ever talk like they know what a BLÅHAJ is.
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Hey! I was just wondering what your thoughts on Janeway x Seven were? (Love your content btw, it makes me happy)
Janeway/Seven Aesthetics, Themes: God & Her Angel. Creator and Creation -> Monster Movie, It's Alive!, Works of Art. Overbearing expectation. Overwhelming conditional love. "I'd die for you, I'd do anything for you" and meaning it. Requited but Unconsummated love (to 'consummate' here has no sexual connotation but a sense of being 'complete'). Unexpressed but constant pressure. Biting the hand that feeds you. Being keenly observed. A Certain Type of Control being mistaken for care. "I know what's best for you". The lofty and the ungraspable. Teacher/Student. Ant vs Machine. Sad old timey people in photographs standing too far away to see their faces. Telling someone to 'run' while holding the scruff of their neck. Womanhood and Personhood as idealized concepts. Womanhood and Personhood as performance. Hypocrisy. Benevolent[?] Gods are still Gods in the end. Idealization of the other until they can only disappoint or awe you <- Inability to truly see eye-to-eye. Mother/Father Issues. Power Imbalance. Victorian era. The 20's. Perfection and the yearning for it. It's difficult to love someone who means and is so much to you. Who is no longer another person but a complex web of identities that sometimes clash or contradict one another.
I like Janeway/Seven but only in a very specific way! I feel like most of the ways I see it are too boring for me personally to be invested. In my mind it's a relationship that would never actually come to pass (Janeway would ultimately not allow it even if she encouraged it - mixed signals) but which would take up a large portion of both of their minds and lives. Janeway is Everything to Seven. She's her worst enemy and the love of her life and she killed her and she gave her new life and she's the reason for all her suffering, all her joy. Infuriating and exhilarating. Deeply confusing. Janeway meanwhile sees Seven as a poor little thing, as dangerous, as a work of art, as herself, as something that can be MORE than what she is now, as an attractive woman, a child, her friend, her subordinate, a concept, an ingenue, a genius etc. Are you trying to make me A woman or Your woman? Am I a human before that? Am I a person first or your subordinate first? If you're nothing like the Borg why does this feel so familiar? [Receiving orders and carrying them out, bending to your will eventually even if we bicker beforehand.] "You're free to do what you want, Seven." [Within reason.] "You don't have to obey anyone, Seven." [Except me.] "This is your life, Seven. Your identity to do what you want with." [Except when I don't agree.] Seven: I don't want this. Janeway: You don't know what you want. Seven: I don't like this. Janeway: You will, eventually. Seven: What if I want to do something else? Janeway: You won't. It's what you are, don't resist it. / Resistance is futile. Janeway says that Seven can do as she pleases but as the captain of a starship she cannot actually allow that. And as a person who has a history of strong moral opinions on what is right and wrong (and a further history of asserting these opinions as factual, rules, and to be adhered to by others) she probably wouldn't have been the best person to explore one's humanity with even if they had been equals in regards to rank. I don't mean to make Janeway a villain in saying this, I earnestly think it's a very interesting facet of her personality. Flaws build character and Janeway has a tendency to impose very high standards for herself and those around her. Whatever Seven did and does would be taken by Janeway as a reflection of herself in my mind. Seven the person exists because Janeway gave her life, after all. This is inescapable v_v No matter how far Seven strays from Janeway's original vision of/for her - she will always be in the shadow of it. It's a debt that can never be repaid and not because Janeway desires to hold it above her head (she explicitly would NOT) - it's just the nature of the thing. The situation might not be ideal but damn sure someone or something's gonna be idealized. So conclusion I very much like Seven/Janeway but only in a specific way which makes most content for it not really my thing..hEHEHE. The worst predicament.
#THANK YOU VERY MUCH~!!!!#Q&A#kind anon#I hope thismakes you happy too!!! Sorry I am like this!!#Janeway/Seven#the line 'I think you're punishing me because I don't think the way you do. I'm not becoming more like you.'#coupled with Janeways lack of response to it.......C'MOOOOONNNN AAAAAAAA~!!! /pos#I love kinda toxic dark and complicated relationships in fiction...they are so interesting and fun to explore#also y'allre gonna have to right click open image in new tab this one sorry v_v#star trek relationship aesthetic
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Tennotober 2024
My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.
Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!
The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/
Day 22: Arcade: The Purpose Of Pinball
Drifter Lēna finds herself curious about what Amir does in his spare time. He’s quite content to share it with her.
TW: None for this chapter.
With that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.
“So, what’s the purpose of these, exactly?” For a moment, she wonders if he doesn’t hear her as he continues to dart between the consoles, spending a few moments at one before switching to another, then back again. The Drifter is about to repeat her question, when she hears his voice above the odd sounds emanating from the machines.
“They’re fun. Plus, there isn’t really much to do unless we’re on missions or something needs to be fixed. Actually…Arthur mentioned one of the security cameras is acting weird again…I should probably take a look at that.” The subject change doesn’t phase her, though despite his realization, the technician doesn’t turn his attention away from the blinking screens.
“Fun, hm? And no one else has an issue with it?” The rest of the Hex seem quite focused on the task at hand, for the most part. They all have their quirks, but many of them spend their time honing their skills, or taking part in target practice or…whatever it is Lettie does to sharpen her medic knowledge. Amir continues to dash between consoles at an almost dizzying speed, but he does reply, a touch of defensiveness in his voice.
“Not really. Pretty sure they know that the alternative is me tearing apart half the tech in this mall just to see how it works. I work just as much as the rest of them anyways.” Lēna raises her hands in surrender, realizing that she’s inadvertently said something wrong—damn her abysmal interpersonal skills, she thinks—, and rushes to correct herself, her words coming somewhat awkwardly.
“I didn’t…Sorry, I wasn’t trying to say that you don’t. I’m just curious, is all. Where I’m from, we don’t really get a lot of opportunities to just do things for fun.” Come to think of it, what has she ever done that was actually for her own enjoyment—and wasn’t just her being reckless? Certainly nothing in Duviri fits the bill, especially considering that she was running for her life for most of her time there. The closest she’s come, the Drifter realizes, is spending time with Mag, and even then, there’s usually some serious undertone.
Especially recently.
“Do you want to give it a try?” She’s so focused on her thoughts that she nearly forgets about the other being in the room until he poses a question. Lēna tilts her head—not that he sees it, his gaze is fixed firmly on the screens in front of him—, considering it.
“You sure? I don’t want to break it or something.” She hears a noncommittal huff from the other.
“You won’t. C’mon, give it a go. It’s getting boring having no one to compete against for the high score.” The Drifter smirks, moving towards one of the larger consoles. She watches Amir for a moment, noticing how he presses the buttons on the side of the machine in quick succession, each button seeming to control small levers which he uses to control the movement of a small, metal ball within the machine. He must pick up on her intrigue, because he touches the identical console next to it, sending a jolt of electricity through the machine and causing it to come alive with colorful flashes of light. She moves to stand in front of it, pulling on the knob that shoots the metal ball into the body of the machine.
It can’t be that hard, right?
She quickly realizes that timing is important, as is figuring out how to aim the ball towards the glowing sections when the levers hit it. She groans in frustration when the ball rolls through the middle of the machine, where the levers cannot reach. The loss simply spurs her on, though, and she tries again, using the knowledge that she’s gained to better her score. She spares a glance at the other machine, and her eyes widen when she catches a look at Amir’s score.
How the fuck is it so high?
The Drifter supposes she can’t really be surprised, but she still finds it difficult to grasp just how much time the man must’ve spent playing these games. She can understand the appeal though, she realizes as her focus hones in on the sphere, on the flashing lights in the machine in front of her.
“Heh, not bad!” Amir’s voice cuts through her concentration and she hits the wrong button, causing her to lose the ball. Lēna curses under her breath, though the smirk remains stubbornly on her face. It only grows as she teases the other.
“Guess I’m just a natural. You better watch that score of yours.” Her confidence—cockiness, she begrudgingly corrects herself—causes Amir to chuckle, though he still doesn’t slow down. She launches another ball, restarting her game.
Eventually, Lēna makes it a habit to spend time playing these games with Amir, much to the chagrin of three of the other members of the Hex. Aoi and Eleanor don’t seem to mind though, the two of them often encouraging their teasing banter.
If the Drifter had to hazard a guess, she’d suspect that the others don’t really mind it either.
#warframe#mist’s writing#tennotober 2024#warframe fanfiction#warframe spoilers#drifter lēna#amir beckett warframe#also posted on my AO3 for those who’d rather read it there
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Hi. Boom. Here's long assorted sleep deprived thoughts I'm gonna be face palming at later about my current KH3 impressions.
Finished Olympus, Corona, now I'm on Toy Box.
PUNTING DONALD INTO ORBIT. And low key, Goofy, too. Like, on one hand, they're just Some Guys and also cartoon characters that make me giggle every cutscene they're in and they just try to lighten the mood or whatever. On the other hand, narratively, NOBODY is getting off Sora's case oh my god. Like, they've teased him before but it feels much more frequent and pointed this game towards the things Sora is insecure about. "Haha, you know Sora, our forgetful, stupid, careless, rash, powerless, weak, codependent idiot! We love him. <3" (exaggerated for comedy but they really don't stop with the punches and it's so uncalled for lol) And he either takes it or lightly goes "hey..." half the time. Donald keeps talking shit, Goofy just lets it happen and whenever there's actually disputes where Sora sasses back a 'lil then he steps in and it gives off vibes of "now don't make your mother angry." They're questionable guardian figures. Rehoming Sora to Supportive Dad Mickey Mouse real quick out of saltiness. That said, Goofy kind of laying a steadying hand on Sora on the Trinity Sled and when he was upset about Eugene's "death" in Corona is sweet.
The face of someone doing completely well who says "I can take it" twice in a row just to prove how well he's doing:
Bestie. You're fifteen years old and running around in a world where tripping acid on identity issues, amnesia, and listening to vague monologues from strange predatory darkness men is another Tuesday.
Sora keeps spacing out and giving thousand yard stares especially throughout this game, and when Ienzo told him "yeah, your heart's not entirely yours!" And Sora just stared blankly at the phone like "figures." I just laughed, lol. He's just constantly pivoting between being occupied by and amazed by the Wonder™ of the world/absorbed by the hype of meeting new people and the Horrors™ presented by the constant tumult of foreign emotions and memories running through his little head, clearly to such a degree that it's no surprise to be told that there's whole fuckin people within him. Teenage experience, honestly. Love coming of age narratives that are just crazy fucking magic bs manifesting in dissociation central. What a guy.
I was in tears laughing when Sora was hearing voices in Twilight Town and thought Hayner and co. were those same voices for a sec and very enthusiastically, as though to prove himself went: "See?? :DDD Voices!" SORA, HONEY.
In other news of AAA-
Way to the Dawn just fucking broke? Why was everyone so calm? Am I missing something? Riku's like "aha gives me an excuse to skill up and get a better one-" child, I am gripping you by the shoulders. This blade is manifested as an extension of your heart, they don't just BREAK. Should I be concerned about the integrity of your soul, brother?
THE SCENE WITH KAIRI AND LEA/AXEL WAS SO SWEET, I WANT MORE OF THEM. NEED MORE OF THEM, ACTUALLY. When Kairi was like ":3 hehe I'm gonna beat your ass in the ring," and when he started CRYING because he caught a glimpse of Xion in her. 😭 Her letter to Sora was so fucking sad I am heartbroken how she becomes more alienated from her friends as time goes on. She went from sending the letter as a waypoint in KH2, like "please come back, here I am" to "you know where I am, but I'm still here talking to myself anyway." I. 👏 NEED. 👏 CLOSURE. 👏 Preferably for Kairi with both Sora and Riku, but they'll probably do just Sora but I dunno I don't want to get my hopes up or down. I just... I dunno, even if things aren't necessarily the same with all of them, I'd just like there to be something affirming where they stand because like even though the care they have for each other is obviously there, you can see it with all three of them in KH1 and KH2 (drives me up the walls bonkers when Riku shielded her with his body and Sora caught her when they were flashbanged), it's also like that feeling of a dwindling group chat kind of scenario. "That's right, no more waiting for you to come back from your adventures..." Props to VA that line was delivered so laden with hollowness. I hold Kairi in hands. Devastated.
THE FOCUS ON SAVING ROXAS HAS ME EXCITED. THAT IS ALL. I WAS YELLING AT SCREEN FOR FOREVER LIKE "USE A REPLICA" and then Riku finally was like "🤔✨...Replica?" And I went and mentally hoisted him onto my shoulders for a little "hip hip hooray" because the dots are connecting with the characters, fellas. I might see at least one of my peoples, soon.
Riku's VA just sounds like he's given up for this game and it's killing me, lol. Voice direction just hasn't been in his favor so far.
Mickey Mouse and Riku bonding time in hell. Riku's like "wow, mouse dad, I feel less riddled with self doubt these days. It's pretty nice to feel like a go-getter, haha, wonder why tho?" And Mickey Mouse is like... "Well... 🏳️🌈...! :D" Riku goes: "🤔... 🏳️🌈👍." strength to protect what matters And then that's that. Back to reconnaissance mission for lost veteran. Cinematic perfection.
Sora is still a certified Disney princess, if anyone's curious. He got his dance number in for this game, and he had birds gently circle around him and land on his finger.
Marluxia: "Ah yes, we finally reunite." Sora: "who"
I still can't tell if anyone has debriefed Sora, Donald, and Goofy about what happened in Castle Oblivion yet in any way. I'm wondering why they're (writers) playing that particular plot line so close to their chest.
Adorable how well Sora and Rapunzel got along. While Sora is a friend to all and shit it's really sweet seeing how he still seems to have bonds where he personally clicks with some characters more than others. And all for good reasons- like matching with his traits. I imagine him, Rapunzel, Ariel, and Hercules get brunch at the Bistro now, and no one can take this from me. Also Hercules is such a Sora hypeman, cheering him on even when he's getting crushed by a building. He passes the vibe check 100%.
I manifested my gag attack concept from my BBS post halfway into being and I'm so happy about it, lol. Thank you Hercules from hit movie Hercules for swinging Sora around in a circle like a broadsword in your special attack. I think more people should use him as a broadsword for enrichment reasons.
THEY CUT OUT THE SNUGGLY DUCKLING FROM TANGLED. SO MUCH POTENTIAL HAS BEEN LOST FROM CANON. I WILL NEVER RECOVER.
"how do I get power of waking when it didn't work the normal way Hercules," "idk Sora maybe you've got to be in love like I am," "well shit. guess I should get me some of that love superpower. Oh btw how come happily married Mickey Mouse and my best friend Riku are the only dudes that have the power of waking I'm confused," "...idk Sora" "okay, bye herc" (can you see my sleep deprivation leaking yet, I'm connecting the dots though, I promise, trust my methods 🤣)
IT TOOK ME 7 TRIES TO CRACK A FUCKING EGG. Remy Ratatouille looks at me like a disappointed father
Weaponized amusement park ride powers are so badass actually. I love the teacups and wish I could inflict them on my enemies, too.
Sora now has GUN. "Shooting" Star, indeed.
Sora and Rapunzel splashing in da water. 💦🥰 So cute.
WHY DID THEY PUT THEIR WHOLE ASS INTO THE FAKE VIDEO GAME TRAILER IT LOOKED SO SICK. I was so confused though I saw the dude and was like... Riku?? Wtf you're HD, my guy! Wait, you've got heterochromia and are chasing after a girl, mistook you for someone else, my bad.
There is a dog on my gummi ship roof and he will stay there until I finish the game.
Twilight Town is gorgeous and I now know the answer for "if I could pick a video game place to live" that's not just Stardew or Pokemon or something.
"I can't computer so... do that." Me too, Sora. Helping him learn his phone by having him take a ton of pictures, though. I'd like to imagine he sends them to his buddies or is excited to show them later or something. That would be so <3
The Kingdom Hearts social media posts are so funny to me for some reason btw. You get surreal shit like Riku pain-posting "I wonder if I'm the reason Ansem looks the way he does :/" and. The sideway frown just sent me. No, I can't explain why. Just comedy gold. "Mfw when possession :/" "sometimes I think about when my friend was in a coma for a year :/" "y'know I wonder what my family felt when my home was overcome with darkness because of me. Did it hurt? Were they afraid? Well they're back now but I wonder that sometimes. :/"
Maleficent is me trying to track down Luxu and shake him for answers. I don't even care if it's bad she finds it, I need to know what's in the damn box.
Buzz Lightyear going "this plot sounds ridiculous and absurd. Of course you're acting like this is normal, pitiful JRPG character." Sora: ":'D"
GET IN THE ROBOT, SORA.
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Can u do a red velvet friendship dynamic reading?
please keep in mind that just because these people are in the same group doesn't mean that they are bffs who will spend the rest of their lives together. if you want my take on this: the feeling I got was that they have gone through many changes and challenges together, and are finally growing up and growing out of the boxes they were put in when they became a group. there's nothing wrong with that, imo. but, of course, to outsiders it might look a lot more dramatic and negative than what it truly is like in real life.
Dynamic || seven of wands, hanged man rx, ten of swords, three of pentacles rx: So- 2 main messages here: 1) they're currently at a point where all (or, at least, most) of the members are quite sure of themselves and of the path they want to take with their careers. It feels like they're all pushing to get their way; pushing to be heard. If previously they were more willing to listen to other people's opinions and sacrifice their own visions/wishes, they're over it already. Working as a team may not be as easy as it once was, but it's really all about their (un)willingness to see things from the others' perspectives instead of focusing so much on their own. And, 2) it's be so long already that they feel like they can let themselves go. What I mean is- do you know when in relationships, after some time, people stop caring so much about how they dress or how they act, text messages get shorter and less lovey-dovey, dates get more lowkey, etc? That's basically what I'm seeing… they're not putting in the same type of effort they once were, which results in them feeling disconnected from each other. Everybody's just like "whatever"; not asking how the other's day was or asking them out for a meal after their schedules. Honestly, it just feels like they need to find a new purpose or common goal as a group once again… Work brought them together, but also isolated them.
|| Individual members (where they stand/how they're feeling/what they're giving):
Irene || ten of swords, five of pentacles rx: She's absolutely exhausted. I do feel like there's still a bit of hope that things will magically get better, but it won't be due to her efforts. At this point, she's accepting whatever comes her way, with no expectations or big wishes. She's also not asking for more because she honestly feels like there's too many factors at play here and a looot would have to change. It's like "yeah, I'm accepting less than what I think we/I deserve or could do, but the fight is not even worth it anymore". She's just silently letting things play out, really. Out of all, I'd say she's the one who's most aware of how much they have changed over the years and how the journey has worn them down as friends and co-workers.
Seulgi || page of swords, strength rx: One of the members who tries to stay in contact with the other as often as they can. She likes knowing what they're up to and what their plans are, even if they aren't super close or spend a lot of time together. However, she's still feeling a little disconnected. The group doesn't feel as stable or "safe" as it once did, and so she's detaching herself before it all crumbles and hurts her feelings. In the past, she might've been overly depend on the group, so I do think it's wise for her to build stronger boundaries and a personal identity that doesn't rely so much of being a RV member. Once she lays a solid foundation for herself, she might be able to connect with them once again.
Wendy || lovers, star rx: She still feels super connected to them and cares a lot about the group and the members (as individuals/friends). She might even try to get them all to meet up often or stay in contact as frequently as possible. Wendy really doesn't want to lose these connections, no matter what they group's future looks like. Also, she might go as far as avoiding bringing up her own issues and worries in order to keep things light - as in, she doesn't want to feed into the pessimism and exhaustion that they are already feeling, so the light won't completely go out.
Joy || ten of wands, chariot rx: She does put in the effort, but it feels more like a duty or a burden rather than something that she truly wants or is passionate about. I do see her looking back at their achievements and being very proud, though. I really do think she's proud of the RV name and work, and that's what's keeping her engaged. However, she doesn't hold strong goals or dreams anymore when it comes to the group… at this point, it's just something that she accepted as part of her life and that she has to play her part in when she's asked. It is more work oriented, but if anyone needs her, they can count on her, for sure! She's very, very loyal - I'll tell you that much.
Yeri || queen of wands, lovers rx: Yeri feels like she has finally found her footing as an individual and/or artist after spending so many years carrying the label of "RV's maknae". She's feeling confident, enthusiastic, ready to explore her creativity; going solo or standing out on her own might not seem as scary to her as before. So, all in all, she did separate herself from the group a little, but it was for the best. However, I must say: she has to be careful not to come off as too selfish or demanding now that she's finally found her voice within the group (and personally).
(Disclaimer: all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)
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Aaaand here we are again. 🙄
Another person has blocked me on the quite mistaken assumption that I am a TERF. (Whatever that even means these days.)
Do I look like any kind of feminist? Let alone a RadFem? 🙄
I'm Pro Women and I'm Pro Men. I don't need a label for that.
I wouldn't mind. But the post in question wasn't even remotely related to the subject.
Someone had asked the question
'Are The British Real?'
I'm British (surprise, surprise ehh? 😁🇬🇧)
And I found it absolutely hilarious.
So I wanted to join in.
I joshed that we're just a figment of everyone's imagination, but that we believe in ourselves.
And that we really shouldn't be encouraged.
🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧
Evidence for The Defence continues below.
I do NOT hate trans people.
I do adhere to the long standing definitions of Manhood and Womanhood that link them with the sexual biology of the body
Man = Male
Woman = Female.
Gender Dysphoria is absolutely real, and it continues with the theme of biological sex
You're Male. Your mind has a disorder that makes you unbearably ill at ease with your Maleness.
You know that Man = Male. So, you live as a Woman, to distance yourself (as much as is possible) from the Maleness of Manhood.
You're Female your mind has a disorder that makes you unbearably ill at ease with your Femaleness.
You know that Woman = Female. So you live as a Man, to distance yourself (as much as is possible) from the Femaleness of Womanhood.
I have zero issues with any of this.
In fact I feel nothing but compassion for anyone in the middle of a battle between his/her mind and the unchangeable sexual biology of the body.
I can't imagine the feeling of living completely as a woman. Whilst knowing that my genes, my bone structure, my body processes, are all biologically male. And I can't do anything to change them. Opposite wise for a trans man.
You won't hear me oppose anything that helps you live with this dilemma.
What I do oppose
Confusing and Abusing Children and Teens - Biological Sex is real. Aside from the above situation, which needs to be thoroughly diagnosed by a reputable and ethical medical professional, and then treated in the way that best suits each patient.
Boy to Man = Male
Girl to Woman = Female
I've no idea of the full range of potential causes for a child/teen to be going through an identity crisis.
But this is exactly why we should be allowing, nay insisting that medical professionals be required to do their job fully.
They shouldn't be just taking the word of a scared and confused child/teen at face value. What kind of help is that in the long run?
Their job is to question and question again, to look at and listen to every symptom. Then they should be using their trained expertise to help this vulnerable young person discover the root of this distress.
Once there, a solution can be looked for.
If throwing 'gender transition' at every poor, confused kid after a couple of hours chatting (if even that long), were the one and only solution. Then why are we seeing so many coming forward with heartbreaking detransition stories?
Some of these children/teens will be in the Autism Spectrum, which simply means needing to find out how to live with a brain that processes differently to other people. (My own beloved sons included amongst them.)
Some will be Same Sex Attracted (yes Same Sex) and needing to learn that this is absolutely fine.
Some will have suffered trauma of some kind, and they need help to heal from that. Not to have their young, healthy bodies artificially altered, for no good purpose.
Other potential causes? I leave those to the professionals who can help discover them.
But Gender Dysphoria is only one, rare cause amongst many , many potential alternatives.
If it's being a TERF to care about these young people's full well being. Then my conscience is clear.
**********************
Separating Womanhood and Manhood from biology.
I'm a woman. And the only thing that makes me a woman is my female biology. That's it .
A biologically female adult human. That is WHAT I am. Womanhood is my biological reality.
Who I am within that biological reality is entirely up to me.
I could be as ultra feminine as a 1950s housewife. I could be as ultra masculine as the butchest of lesbians. I could be so androgynous that my biological sex isn't immediately apparent.
I Would Be a Woman In Every Case
A man could be the most feminine of drag queens, he could be more masculine than The Rock and Jean Claude Van Damme combined. He could be so androgynous that his biological sex is not clear.
He Would Be A Man In Every Case.
Womanhood and Manhood are solid.
Masculinity and Femininity are completely flexible.
Woman or Man are our biological framework. Within those boundaries. Who we are in our individual selves is limitless.
You are absolutely free to disagree with me about all this. Go right ahead.
In fact I don't even object to you simply blocking me, without giving me a chance to reply.
All that tells me is that you have nothing solid and rational with with to counter what I'm saying.
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In the weekly phone call with the mother, I was talking about how my partner may be coming to the end of her current bout with whatever chemical imbalance sets her off in almost non-stop anger for months, around June of each year (and to a lesser extent, October). That she, my partner, was friendly again with the same friend she bordered on seething with hatred for just a few weeks ago. I mentioned that the friend usually does not put up with this kind of nonsense, but for whatever reason, she puts up with it from my partner.
As I as saying this, I remembered that my partner’s friend is lesbian, and this was probably the main attraction from my partner. But also, my partner’s friend may have some level of attraction for my partner.
I do not decide my partner’s identity, but (the fatal “but”) she appears to be the only person who is convinced that she is strictly heteroromantic (she does not recognize the difference between heteroromantic and heterosexual, unfortunately). The fact that my partner was going out with Angela before fusion tends to raise a few questions about her attractions.
But I was talking with the mother and so I am glad I did not just blurt this out, as I nearly did.
--
If anyone is wondering, if my partner believed they would be happier with someone else, I would not stand in the way. I do caution my partner to think better about the idea, but only because her past dalliances have only ever ended good friendships with hard feelings. My persistence with my partner may give her the wrong idea of her own abilities in relationships. I do not think I am gawd’s gift to my partner, but I can take more than the average amount of abuse without responding, and forgiveness is rarely an issue from me because forgetting always is.
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I dunno but I may be off-base in this bit of drivel but I feel like of all supernatural themed shows Grimm feels more...domestic?
Like, at the beginning of the series we have Nick (planning on) proposing to a woman, right? And this woman doesn't suddenly die to move the story forward. This relationship might not have lasted but Nick has fought for it (poorly) for most of the series up until season 4-ish.
All of the characters seem to be in times of their life where they are past running around without an aim. They are fully realized characters. They aren't on a mission. They aren't necessarily lost. Nick is a career detective. His partner has had several wives (we are led to believe) but is fully identified to himself.
MONROE for Cribbage's Sake, MONROE is a fully realized character. He may be in for some serious growth, but he has already lived a life of settling into his identity and knowing what he wants. And when Rosalee comes in she is strong because she has also fought and won over her struggles and is at home in who she is.
The only characters that are coming into the show at the beginning of their identity arc are (in my perspective) Adalind and Trubel. Renard MAYBE...but he sort of wishy-washes through the entire series towards whatever identity serves him the most at the time.
To compare:
Supernatural starts out with two dudes in their twenties(?). One of whom has just seen their girlfriend explode into flames on their ceiling. And the other has lost their dad and the issues wrapped up in that are enough to prevent a man from doing, well, anything else in his life. They are constantly on the run. "Love" is a joke. Literally at times. Even at the end their development into adulthood and identity seems irreparably arrested. It's a good show, but there are differences. Buffy is placed in a high school. Nobody knows who they are. I mean, I think this one speaks for itself. Characters do become more realized but it also seems like a lot of the basic building blocks of identity and growth have been completely missed. They aren't settled characters. Once Upon A Time is literally a town of characters who don't know who they are. All of their life seems like a façade. Even though the characters are older, like Grimm there is an incompleteness that the show actually thrives on.
I could go on. Like I really could. I could compare other shows, but suffice to say I just think the reason why Grimm vibes with me (especially now as a 40-something) is because the characters know themselves BEFORE they're put into this fantastical environment. And they are always striving to keep connections with each other in a very mature-ish way. (sans Nick and Juliette's entire story arc...I hate you writers) The importance they are motivated to fulfill comes from a different place than often younger protagonists in similar shows.
And to the OP's point, Psyche is a show whose crux is comedy and is draws from the main protagonist to provide that fulfillment. Character motivation leans toward making the protagonist seem more goofy or less goofy depending on the mood the creators want to give the episode. They're pivoting on a comedic element. So, with some disappointment, it makes sense that a strong female lead would not be utilized to the full potential of the character but, rather, as a measure of balance to the main character. Shawn's personality is to step over and in front of. It's his defense and coping mechanism. And it does set the beat of the show, in a lot of ways.
IN CONCLUSION, I think there are a lot of good reasons why Rosalee was allowed to be a strong female character consistently in Grimm. The writers let her have had a full life experience that she could take with her. They gave both her and Monroe a balance for the other so that they could stand in the spotlight equally. They gave her individual thoughts and feelings and ideas that didn't necessarily agree with what either the audience (or Monroe) thought was best. But they did so without making her a villain and while still giving her an ally in Monroe. (I'm thinking specifically of the Grausen episode.) And she was able to embody all of this because Grimm was written with characters that were fully realized. Thank you for coming to my Teddy Bear Talk. Please enjoy complimentary lollipops and sparkling water. Have a nice night!
I think that Rosalee might have knocked Juliet O'Hara from Psych down from my favorite female tv character. They are really similar in that they're both really gentle and caring but capable of protecting the ones they love at any cost. They're both really smart and confident. But Juliet gets smothered under Shawn's (and everyone else's) personality a lot, which I don't fault her for, she's a subtle character surrounded by very big personalities. The way that Rosalee meshes so well with the other characters is really nice. The cast really feels like a big family by the end. I can imagine all 5 kids end up having 6 parents plus big sister Trubel raising them and I really like that dynamic.
#nbc grimm#psych#juliet o'hara#rosalee calvert#supernatural#buffy#once upon a time#monroe grimm#strong women characters#women characters with autonomy#please have more supernatural shows with an older cast
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Happy Halloween! Anything full metal alchemist?
Pretending to be a boy is the easy and obvious thing to do.
Mustang already thinks she is one - apparently the paperwork he'd found on her had only called her Ed and he'd decided that was short for Edward. It's not like there was anything feminine about her while she was lying in bed trying not to bleed to death.
The military might agree to take a twelve year old boy, but will never consider the same for a twelve year old girl. It's safer, too, for people not to know what she is.
"I don't like this, Sister," Al says as she transmutes a heavy coat to wear over her thick leather pants and chunky boots. She almost cuts her hair, but their father had long hair, and she's already lost two limbs. If her hair is what gives her away, then clearly she has bigger problems.
"Remember that it's Brother once we get on the train to central," she warns.
He can't make facial expressions anymore, but the mulishness to his silence is easy for her read. She's his big sister, after all. “It’s just until we get our bodies back, Al. It’s fine.”
“Won’t it bother you to be called a boy?” he asks. “It would bother me to be called a girl.”
Yes. “Not really. It’s just temporary, and you and Winry and Granny know. It’s fine.”
Eden isn’t looking forward to it, but her brother doesn’t have his body because of her. She has to fix this, and whatever it is she has to do in service of that is what she’ll do.
~
They get to Central and meet Mustang again and his office and Maes Hughes and his very nice wife and no one even bats an eyelash at calling her a boy, or when Al calls her Brother, or at referring to her as Edward. She can at least tell them she goes by Ed, which is true.
The physical that disqualified Al might be an issue except she’s twelve and they don’t ask her to take her boxers off. Standing there shirtless feels weird, even though her chest is completely flat, but they’re more interested in her automail than in questioning her gender.
She’s dubbed the Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and the victory is bittersweet for more than one reason.
~
Sometimes, in the beginning, when they’re far from central she’ll take down her hair and transmute a dress and just go out and be a girl for a little bit. Soon, that becomes too risky, because she’s so well known, because Al makes her identity obvious.
Al stops calling her Sister except when they’re in a room alone and she tells herself it doesn’t bother her.
When she’s fourteen, the jokes about her voice not having dropped yet start at around the same time as she starts having to bind her chest to keep it looking flat. The baggy jacket worked for a while, but now she needs an extra step. She’s fifteen when she really starts to hate it, when her chest is large enough that flattening them constricts her movements and makes it so she can’t expand her lungs fully. It’s too much of liability. She wears a sports bra and gets a baggy tank top and saves the binding for when she has to report into Mustang.
Nearly three years of no one guessing anything and then they’re in Liore when Rose takes one look at her and says, “I thought the Fullmetal Alchemist was a boy?”
“I am a boy,” she says, but it comes out awkwardly, because she’s never had to say that before, never had to try and convince someone before. There’s a little spark of pleasure at Rose just looking at her and knowing, but it’s drowned out by the terror at the possibility of being found out.
Rose frowns, but then her face clears as an embarrassed flush rushes across her face. “Oh! I didn’t know that you were – uh, right. Sorry, I – yes, um, of course, you are definitely a boy. My apologies!”
Wait, that’s not what she – oh fuck, whatever. It amounts to the same thing, she supposes.
Then she’s too busy chasing after this fake priest and Rose is furious at her and Ed is pretty sure she’s going to get murdered by this whole town at one point, but it works out, more or less. The town is sort of a mess, but there’s no more fake priest offering false hope and false gods, so that has to be good, right?
Rose is tear stained and empty and she’d known that Ed was a girl. “Hey,” Ed says softly, “it’s going to be okay. You can rebuild.”
“Rebuild what?” she hiccups, trying to contain her sobs. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and no one cares about us and without those miracles, fake or not, people will be hungry!”
Fuck. This isn’t Ed’s problem. But she wants to help. She wants to help Rose, who’s nice, and pretty, and saw her. “What if there was a river around the city? Then you wouldn’t be in the middle of nowhere and you could grow something or catch fish, or whatever.”
“The river isn’t anywhere near here!” she shouts.
“It could be,” she says and now Rose is staring at her and Al is sighing.
She’s the Fullmetal Alchemist. What’s one river?
She and Al take the train to the nearest branch of the river, marking off what they’ll do on the map and debating circles and Al doesn’t say a word about this being a waste of time, but he wouldn’t. He’s usually the bleeding heart between them.
They buy two boats, split up to each take it to a bend in the river that almost no one uses, and get to work. It takes almost two weeks to push the new bit of the river near Liore and she meets Al in the middle, the two of them connecting the new river right outside of city gates.
They go back to Liore, to tell Rose and everyone else what they’ve done, and they find something they hadn’t expected.
That damn priest is back.
The ensuring fight nearly kills her and she was certain it actually would, but the strange creature literally slithers away from her rather than killing her. It at least proves to the people that that thing isn’t a prophet, although it does leave a large portion of the town destroyed.
They can rebuild closer to the river anyway.
Ed is broken and bruised and Rose is tending to her and she tries not to think how she’s going to write any of this up in a report.
“What’s the river called?” Rose asks as she checks on the stitches she’d made. She’s not as good as Winry, but she’s not bad either.
Ed bites her lip to distract herself from the pain of disinfectant on her wounds then says, “What? I don’t know. Whatever you want.”
“You made it,” she says stubbornly. “You should name it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insists, wincing as Rose rubs some sort of salve into her many bruises, sliding her hand beneath her sports bra to get the one that’s all along her side and her ribs. She’s probably broken at least one. Then, without thinking, “Eden. Call it the Eden River.”
Someone should at least get to use her name if she can’t.
Rose pauses, staring at her, and Ed looks down rather than meeting her gaze. “Ed,” she says gently, “please don’t take this the wrong way, and I promise I won’t ask again, but – are you a boy?”
She should say yes. Even though Rose had guessed right the first time, she should say yes, and protect the same secret she’s been protecting for the past four years.
But it’s been a really long couple of weeks.
“I’m what I have to be,” she says, shrugging even though it hurts.
Rose smiles at her, warm and pretty and ugh, why does she have to be so pretty? This is so unfair. “In this room, all you have to be is yourself, Eden.”
She can’t help but return Rose’s smile. She hasn’t been able to be herself in a long time.
~
Ed is sixteen and has just received a summons from Mustang, who apparently hadn’t been satisfied with her initial report of Liore and had finally tracked her down after months of dodging him to demand she return to Central, which is annoying as shit. She’s finally found some books that even sort of explain what that creature in Liore was, and now he wants her to come back? What a waste of time.
“Um, Sister,” Al says and Ed automatically looks around, but they’re completely alone in this corner of the library, “do you think, now that you’re enlistment age, that you might tell them truth?”
She stares. “Why would I do that?”
“Well, we haven’t been back in a long time, and you look a lot – especially this past year, you know?” She continues staring, because she does not know. “Most people see what they expect to see, but you might have to – I don’t know, do something, if you don’t want them getting suspicious.”
“Why would they be suspicious?” she demands, baffled.
Al groans and throws up his hands. “Because you’re older and you look like a girl, Sister! You’re not a kid anymore, and they’ve known us for years, and they pay attention to stuff.”
This is a serious problem that she has to deal with.
Which she’ll do as soon as she can make herself stop smiling.
#prompt answers#prompts are closed#asks#anon#fma#this got away from me#obviously#the joke is on eden because roy didn't believe a word of the report about the priest#and he's actually pissed at ed for the unauthorized terraforming
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hello, idk if you've done this yet, but do u know any good post reveal pre relationship fic recs? sorry if this request is kinda vague lol
General requests are easier than super specific ones lol so you don’t need to apologize for that! I have been meaning to do a PRPR rec list for a while now (and, not directed at you, anon, but yes, PRPR stands exclusively for post-reveal pre-relationship) so thanks for giving me the push to finally do it! (Sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away with this one, but it’s truly one of my favourite things to read.)
The Official Summer Buster Kiss List by @peachcitt
“You’d really be alright with kissing me?” he asked, and Marinette popped the cap of her dry-erase marker on and off.
“I mean, yeah,” she said, and they stared at each other for a moment. “Of course,” she hurried on, “you’d have to be alright with being my candidate. Teacher. Guide. Whatever.” She made a few empty gestures with the marker, and the loose cap flew off the end, bouncing off the wall and rolling off her desk.
Adrien caught it before it could fall to the floor, handing it back to her. “I am,” he said, looking her in the eye. “I’ll do it.”
or
a very simple four-point plan to tackle the issue of marinette's abysmal kissing life that turns into a six-point plan and also results in an outcome that literally no one could have predicted (sarcasm)
One-shot. They’re just so incredibly stupid (affectionate). The writing is gorgeous, the humour is spot on, and I loved all the little details of their lives with the passage of time. It’s so clear that they love each other, but as always, it takes them way too long to admit it haha.
Emergency Contact by @coffeebanana
When Marinette invites Adrien to live with her temporarily while she recovers from an injury, she thinks the hardest part is going to be hiding her feelings from him. But Adrien's idea of being helpful might go...a little overboard.
Post Shadow Moth defeat, Aged Up Characters, Read the Tags
Multi-chapter. This fic is just so real and messy and beautiful. The mutual pining is absolutely perfect! The backstory and how that impacts their current dynamic is so well woven through and adds another layer to their relationship. But also, I love the lack of perfection, that these are real people with real flaws and the way that all plays out. I absolutely love this fic!
rainwater and brown sugar by @aerequets
He knew they shouldn't do anything (whatever that 'anything' was). They couldn't. Not until they defeated Hawkmoth. Not until their relationship wouldn't get in the way of their work (or whatever other excuse they'd come up with over the course of three months). He knew all this. He knew.
But it was the raindrop that did it for him.
One-shot. It’s seriously unfair that someone who draws so beautifully should be able to write equally so. And yet. This is just so beautiful and SOFT and lovely. And then THAT KISS!!!!!
An Open Secret by @kasienda
Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.
He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.
Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.
He knew Ladybug’s name!
Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.
It wasn’t fair!
...
A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.
Multi-chapter. I absolutely love the early reveal in this fic. I’ve read a lot of reveals, but this one is really fun and original! And then the premise of the fic itself isn’t one I’ve seen anywhere else, which makes it very different from the usual PRPR fare. Because even though they both know...they can’t actually talk about it. And it’s so interesting and different and sweet?
A little push by @emsylcatac
Alya asks Chat Noir to record a video of himself encouraging Marinette to confess...to Adrien.
Of course his mouth speaks on its own. Of course he says yes.
Of course his Lady is most likely sure to kill him.
...And of course Marinette feels like she's the one who's about to die.
One-shot. @emsylcatac‘s fics never go the way that I expect them to, and I really love that about her writing. Although this starts off really silly, the way Adrien expresses himself at the end wasn’t something I saw coming at all, even though it’s SO TRUE to his character. The pining and miscommunication is wonderful, but it’s the ending that really sells me on this one.
17 days, 2 hours and some odd minutes by @miabrown007
It has been 17 days, 2 hours and 14 minutes since Chat Noir flirted with Ladybug for the last time.
It has been exactly 17 days, 2 hours and 13 minutes since Adrien realized his very good friend and his best friend were, in fact, one and the same.
Consecutively, it has been exactly 17 days, 2 hours and 12 minutes since he constantly fought the insurmountable desire to kiss the said friend.
One-shot. The yearning in this fic is absolutely e x q u i s i t e . I love it when Adrien stops flirting post-reveal and Marinette takes it the wrong way. And they’re just SO STUPID here, and then they get to be adorable in love dorks.
the wonderful part of the mess that we made by heresie_irisee
They knew.
They knew, and there would be no magical reset button for the memories they'd made today. She'd have to see him at school every day, and she'd see the Chat in him, as surely as he'd see the Ladybug in her.
One-shot but a lengthy one-shot. How about some post-Oblivio fic that has the magical ladybugs NOT erase their memories of the fight (because lbr that made no sense anyway)? Oblivio is probably my favourite episode and this is such a great fic. The mutual pining is so, so, so good! Especially love Marinette struggling to assimilate Adrien’s identities and Adrien’s obliviousness.
The Boy She Loves by @goth-bias
Adrien just wants to know who Marinette has been in love with this entire time, but she refuses to budge. Accidentally reading a part of her diary, however, gives Adrien the answers he has been looking for.
One-shot. So you may not know this about me, but I’m absolute sucker for the trope of Adrien fixating on the boy Marinette loves post-reveal. (And tbf for him fixating on the boy Ladybug loves pre-reveal.) I love how well done the miscommunication is here, where their failure to confess makes sense and all of the tension naturally follows.
Make it clear by @amiraculousplatypus
After years, the masks have fallen. Marinette and Adrien figure out what has changed. And what hasn't.
One-shot. This one is all about the yearning. And then Adrien’s beautiful honesty that pushes Marinette to finally do something. They’re both so in character and I love them so much!
White Lies Over White Nights by meirencollector
“Tell me, Marinette. The other boy, is it me?"
There’s something about the way he says it. The way his lips move. The way his eyes glaze at her. The way he looks at her as if she hung the moon and stars. The way there’s a warm glow when he's drawing close to touch. Even in this snowstorm, he was a ray of sunshine, and she was a sunburn.
One-shot. This one is really interesting because of both its device--a game of Truth or Drink--and its use of non-linear storytelling. Even though the fic is set post-reveal, we get all kinds of flashbacks to memories of their pre-reveal interactions that really illuminate the present and are extremely well woven into the narrative. I also really appreciated how honest Adrien was about his feelings, even with their relationship being so ambiguous.
The following fics are amazing and absolutely worth reading, but do feature sexual content, so minors beware.
your lips are meant to be kissed by @zimtlein
During a tipsy evening, Adrien kisses Marinette’s forehead.
Understandably enough, Marinette has a complete meltdown.
One-shot. Rated E for sexual content. This is one of my favourite fics and I’ve read it a good half a dozen times at least. The pining is absolutely phenomenal and Adrien is so, so oblivious. And the tension between them just builds and builds and builds until I thought I was going to die! But instead it all leads to a phenomenal resolution.
#miraculous ladybug#ml fanfic#ml fic#ml fic rec#adrienette#adrinette#ml love square#post-reveal pre-relationship#prpr#jennarecsml#ml fic recs#marichat#ladrien#ladynoir
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Following up with this line of thinking, I am also more than a little tired about how everyone won't stop bringing up the background of the director of Saltburn to say that there is no real examination or class or that is a failure at portraying the high class as anything but "vapid but nice". Like, to see it reduced merely to this "fear of the high social class for those pesky social climber that will come to suck us dry and take our stuff", because, and maybe this is truly just me, it doesn't come across that way? Like, to me this is the story of a man that is obssesed with being loved. By Felix at start, for sure, but then on getting the things he thinks will make people love him. Because he is a akward little weirdo that unless he has an agenda can't interact with people to save his fucking life, and everyone can fucking see that, he recognizes that part of himself and go "oh, but if I had that money and that property and that title then people will like me, then I will be someone worth loving". On that scene at the party two guys are talking about Felix right after he took some girl from one of them. One of them ask why that always happen, what do girls look on him, and the other answers something like "get yourself a title and a castle and they will chase you too". Ollie is literally there, he hears that and later sees Felix having sex with that girl. To me that communicates the idea that Ollie is internalizing that Felix has something that allowed that interaction to happen, that made that girl prefer him over that guy, and it has to be with that class. It's not so much about the "middle class wanting to scalate" so much as this guy being so fucked up, so intrinsically and genuinely broken, but still so desperate to be loved, that he is willing to steal whatever is around him in order to try to find that love. He lies to his parents so they will keep loving him, he lies to Felix because he thinks that is what Felix wants to hear, he lies to himself that if he just gets more power, if he becomes like Felix, if he has this stuff, maybe people will love him like they did Felix. Fuck, he probably lied to the counselor at the start about reading all those books because that is what he thought a counselor would like hearing about. I don't even know if he actually needs glasses or he just uses them because hey, this is a university or whatever, so I should look like smart people look in order to fit in. My guy has no fucking sense of identity at all so he keeps searching for external things, like validation from others, for that. And it bothers the fuck out of me when people also say that his motivations are all over the place or make no sense, because to me it's pretty clear that he is always trying to fill a void that ultimate still remain void. Because fucking congratulations man, you won the house! And nothing else! You have no friends, no family, fucking no one to see you dance naked. This is your place and you will probably die here alone because, even after all of this, nobody knows you or loves you. You got everything you wanted and an entire life to see that is still never going to be enough.
Am I wrong? Is it the issue that I look at it from a character story degradation stand point rather than a anti-elite narrative? Like, as it is, the elite here are trash, I am sorry. They are careless, selfish, vapid and have no sense of real humanity for them. The tragedies of other are just conversation topics, shiny toys to entertain themselves and nothing else, and like, how the fuck can you say that is just "rude at worst"? How can you see the mother literally blaming Pamela for potentially getting herself killed, at the hands of a known abuser they just did nothing to help her with once kicked out, and think "rude" instead of "fuck you"? These people are completely disconnected from the entire world that they don't see others as real people. Like the whole sequences after they find Felix's dead body is horrifying for me, and it should be for the viewer too I think, when they literally just close the windows and pretend like nothing happened. "Oh, well, it's a british high class thing", and that makes it okay? Is that just "rude but ultimately nice people"? Because to me, everything about them screams fucking aliens who will never, ever, care about anyone but themselves and that is fucked up. I don't want to ever associate with people like that. I know people like that and I don't ever interact with them voluntarely. I can deal with "sometimes rude" people, these fuckers are on another level and I am just confused as to how you can tell me that they are not.
Sometimes I feel like the only person who loves seeing media critiquing capitalism, talking about class, and just don't like at all the Menu. Like, I saw a video of someone saying that the movie is really about violence and how "if you want a violent revolution, then you are just as bad as the people who want to exterminate you", and I also don't vibe that, but also I don't really buy into the whole "oh, this movie is about destroying the elite and literally eating the rich", like.... I can see parts of that, but more than anything is... meh. I still think it's kinda weak even after seeing reaction and review videos from people who do actually work on that industry, who understood the little nuances behind the dishes and what not. I guess my biggest issue is the main guy. Like, he makes this huge fucking deal about how he has come to hate everything he does, about how he wants to punish the people who don't appreciate his work, who are so filthy rich that take it for granted, and I am here like but, my guy, you are part of this industry too. You made it so the people who work with you in this bullshit island idea have no life outside of this. You created this shit. Nobody forced you into doing this. You made this hell. You put yourself on it. Why should I root for you to take it out on people who did nothing to you? Taking it back to that "this movie is about violence on both side of social conflict", fuck that shit because oppressed people did fuck all to be on that position. They didn't choose to live that life and they did nothing to deserve it. This guy literally couldn't have done anything to reach that place that wasn't his own will. So I am fucking ass confused as to WHY people are taking this movie as some kind of "fuck you" to the elite class, when the "fuck you" comes from a part of the elite that prefers to do anything before going to therapy? Like the first death is an angel investor and like, sincerely, just why is this guy being punished for giving you the money for this stupid bullshit you wanted to make? I just never get a sense that either he or the movie is aknowledging this? Like, what, I am supposed to feel bad because making a simple cheeseburger is fulfilling for him and he forgot that while he was making those fancy ass dishes? Why was just giving up this island bullshit and getting your own restaurant with cheesburgers not an option here? "Uh but then we wouldn't have the movie" doesn't cut it for me. Why are we treating this like a tragedy that just happened to this guy, and that is why he has a right to lash out, instead of just his own fucking choices? And like, if you tell me "my guy, this is just a horror movie. It's supposed to be unhinged. If every serial killer went to therapy instead of doing unhinged evil things we won't have a genre anymore" and like, fine, sure, but then why are people treating it like it's something bigger than that? Why I see so many people being on the side of this guy or even rooting for him? I don't get it, I truly don't.
Like, when he starts monologuing about why everyone is going to die and he just shit in John Leguizamo because he did a bad movie that he went to see on his one free day, I am just like bitch, you are your own boss. You did that to yourself. And you can watch more than one movie in a day? He didn't want that role either, the fuck are you on about. Maybe that is just part of the comedy, it's supposed to be just one joke about how truly petty and nonsensical this bullshit has turned into, which like good, fun, but then that really clashes with that being on his side. I don't want to be on the side of a guy who shits on actors for just doing their job with bad scripts they didn't write. It's confusing to me seeing people saying "this movie is a true criticism of class while something like Saltburn is not" and maybe that is the thing about art, that everyone is supposed to have different interpretations and tastes and whatever, but I feel like a fucking alien seeing this kind of discourse pop out because I just fundamentally disagree with it. I don't even know if it's a me thing that I don't understand or it's a gringo thing somehow? I don't know, it's weird.
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