#the fact that this 'helplessness' is part of the reason he wanted to learn magic

[imminent-danger-came]

Grips your shoulders No you don't get it. I am haunted by thoughts about Harrow. He's such a tragic character—he loved and was loved. His wife was killed partly because of his own choices and partly because of a war with Xadia that had gone on for centuries. He had to raise his sons alone. He gave into his hate and anger and took the life of Thuder, King of the Dragons, Avizandum, Murder of his Wife, Zym's Dad. With only hours before his death, he finally realized his many mistakes. He knew that he would become another casualty of hate and history, but in one act of hope and love and desperation he wrote a letter to his son detailing all he learned. He may have been doomed by the narrative but he wanted to have faith that his sons wouldn't be. He wanted to have faith in a narrative of love. He then died. His sons weren't able to attend his funeral. His best friend went on to try and murder his beloved sons and further a narrative of power. Do you GET IT do you UNDERSTAND

[lurafita]

Mundane Magnus

So, a wonderful person in the discord Malec server I'm in once prompted the following: A Malec show AU where most everything is the same except club owner Magnus Bane is a mundane with the Sight whose club Pandemonium caters to both mundanes and Downworlders. He first meets Alec when he and his siblings follow a blood peddling demon into the club.

And my mind immediately went "Backstory!" (under the cut for those interested)

Since I'm a fan of keeping some of a character's poignant developments when changing stuff around, I tried to come up with a way to keep a bit of Magnus' backstory that we have seen in the show the same, while giving it another environment.

So, Magnus grew up in Indonesia, but his mother was badly depressed, and killed herself. His stepfather, who had resented the fact that his wife already had a child, had been livid and held Magnus responsible. Without magic to protect himself, child Magnus was then helpless as his stepfather grabbed him and tried to drown him in a nearby lake. Ragnor happened to be close and saved Magnus. This traumatic event gave Magnus the sight. Ragnor then took the boy in, taught him many different languages and cultural customs, and explained about the shadow world. Introduced him to other downworlders like Cat and Raphael. Magnus learned fighting in the military, in which he enlisted because in his last year of highschool, he had a sudden streak of independence and didn't want to keep relying on Ragnor to pay for his college and everything. A recruiter for the military who came to the highschool offered a program where, if Magnus enlisted for a few years, his further education would be paid for. (Something that Magnus and his downworlder family possibly had a falling out over) So Magnus saw combat and knows how to fight (just like his magical counterpart in the series.) When his enlistment was over, he came to NY and used his degree, and opened up his first business, Pandemonium.

Which he intentionally made a safe place for downworlders with the help of Ragnor, Cat and Raphael (and whoever else he got to know through those three).

He also has a bit of a network to help other mundanes with the sight, because while he was still a child when it happened, it was still jarring to have this whole new world opened up to him, and it must be even more disconcerting for those who get the sight when they are older.

Maybe Magnus even got to know some "disgraced" Shadowhunters, who after having been deruned, joined the military as well in hopes of finding some structural familiarity.

Not like ex-circle members, but people who were deruned for what the Clave saw as undesirable behavior, maybe. (like freeing downworlders who had been unjustly imprisoned, or having an actual relationship with a downworlder.) All of this would put Magnus in a better position to help Alec fight off the Clave's indoctrination against the downworlders.

Which, assuming that night in Pandemonium leads to the two of them talking and meeting a lot in the following days, could put Alec in a state of mind where he already has some doubts of his own regarding the Clave's handbook procedurals and attitudes when it comes to downworlders, by the time they get the order to arrest Meliorn. Which causes him to take different actions.

non-warlock Magnus makes me think that maybe portals weren't invented. Or that warlocks didn't share this invention with the shadowhunters. That could be interesting as well, if shadowhunters had to travel the mundane way between institutes.

(The wonderful person who posted the prompt also came up with an alternative reason for Magnus' enlistment with the military, which is the following):

Instead of Magnus just deciding that he doesn't want to rely upon Ragnor for everything, he could have had a relationship with Camille (to keep that part of his backstory), and it ended so terribly that he fled as far as he could, which is part of what landed him in the military beyond the basic education benefits.

Oh, he could have ended up assigned to a foreign embassy in Peru, and while he's not technically outlawed from the whole country, they'd really appreciate it if he never came back (for a reason that's never disclosed to the reader).

(I liked that possibility as well and had to add to it)

Then Magnus could have already been in college/uni when he met Camille through Raphael (who had wanted to keep Magnus away from his clan leader, knowing that she would only play with him and break his heart. But Magnus might have seen that as a challenge rather than a warning, and stubbornly pursued a relationship with the vampire leader.) Then when Camille shows her true colors, Magnus needs to get away from the city, and he happens to wander past a recruitment office. Might be a 5 year contract in which he does basics and one or two tours. Then he comes back to the states (with a polite but firm "Please don't come back to Peru"), finishes his degree and opens up Pandemonium.

Or Camille actively seduced him while he was still in highschool and underage, which then caused him to enlist when it all blew up spectacularly.

[twistmusings]

Hello! I just found your blog and I read a very interesting characterisation of Cater that made me quite interested in him (I haven't seem much of him in game so far so he never really caught my attention).

So I was wondering what are your ideas about Cater, like general hcs... what is he like (personality wise), etc? Are there any misconceptions about him in your opinion? Cause to me so far he has seemed quite one dimensional and I would like to have more added to him so I'm always open to hear other people's thoughts.

Thank you!

I would love to! Cater is like one of my sleeper faves, so I always love getting a chance to write about what I think about him.

Cater Diamond Character Analysis

CW: Discussions of Mental Illness, particularly depression and self esteem issues, very, very brief mention of internalized transphobia for one bullet point.

Canon text examination

Cater’s Halloween Vignette (Miraheze | Wiki)

Cater is shown to be pretty exhausted by the visitors and trying to manage the amount of people who are around for the Halloween events.

He expresses a distaste at having a phone call with a prior acquaintance, and privately expressed distaste at her being persistent in trying to get ahold of him.

He says he prefers not to form deep friendships.He dislikes the idea of being too closely attached to one person because his father would move frequently when he was younger and he would constantly have to rebuild friendships and relationships only to be uprooted again.

Another key thing is to look at Cater’s self-talk here: depending on which translation you’re reading. In the localized version, he says that Lilia could never understand how helpless he fears, but pretty consistently across translations he minimizes and insults himself OR his own feelings.

Cater’s Labwear Vignette (Twisted Translations Tumblr | Wiki)

Cater mentions that he’s got two older sisters who insist on things being cute, so far that he mentions having the mantra burned into his brain. 

Cater is notably upset when one of his mandrakes comes out seeming rather gloomy and depressed, and vehemently denying it when Vil and Lilia point it out. He even goes out of the way to create additional mandrakes that he feels better reflect him and denies the other two exist.

The mandrake that he picks to post to magicam is of particular note-- he picks the one that is laughing and jovial. “It’s not Cay-cay if it’s not happy enough to lift people’s spirits, right?”

While those are the most notable instances I can point out, they’re not the only ones. In fact, small facets get mentioned in several vignettes: 

In his Ceremonial Robes Vignette (miraheze | wiki) Cater mentions that he finds the entrance ceremony exhausting after having to wrangle the incoming freshmen, and goes off by himself to focus on Magicam rather than joining the others at the entrance party.

In his Dorm Uniform Vignette (Twisted Translations Tumblr | wiki) Cater is shown to be a lot more calculating and cautious than he portrays himself. He is also noticeably self interested. He will use tools, magic, and other people in ways that benefit him, and even Trey acknowledges that.

In both his Birthday Boy (wiki | Miraheze) and Union Birthday Vignettes (wiki | Miraheze)  we get to hear more about Cater’s sisters and mother. The reason he hates sweets is because they had a phase where they made a lot of them and would always expect Cater to be the one to taste test. His sisters would also sort of treat him like a page boy-- often making him go shopping for them or run errands for them. He even says that he wouldn’t mind shopping with someone like Vil so much, just because he would be able to examine and learn things and get something out of it.

So what does all of that mean for Cater?

To start with: Cater is almost always wearing a mask. He doesn’t want people to get a deeper understanding of him and his inner thoughts. This is one part conscious and one part unconscious. He consciously knows that he’s had to constantly rebuild his friendships when he would have to move-- and even now that he’s in a bit more of a stable location at Night Raven College, he still seems to cling to the values of keeping people at an arm's length. Probably because most of his foundational years have taught him that getting too close to someone would end in loneliness because he would have to give them up.

Unconsciously, you also need to look at who Cater’s stable people in his life have been. Cater talks about his father working at a bank and often having to move for work, and him being at home most of the time with his mother and sisters. Do I think his sisters and mother are terrible? No, absolutely not, but what I do see is that they seem to show very little regard to what Cater wants. If he tries to refuse them a favor they are said to keep pushing him until he does it. So in Cater’s mind, there’s definitely a connection that when he does have someone solidly in his life, they’re going to push him to do things that he doesn’t want to do. At best he probably would expect them to ask him to do chores that he doesn’t want to, and at worst he probably would assume they only want him around because he’s beneficial to them.

Additionally, I don’t think Cater has had a lot of time to find himself. This is, in part, why I think he leans so heavily on Magicam and seems to be fascinated with Vil and his sense of style and fashion. He mentions that his sisters were obsessed with cutesy things, and he admits that’s not what he is really into himself. I think a lot of his interest stems from wanting to explore and discover himself-- and that means that he’s probably experimenting a lot with his fashion and outward appearance in his free time.

I think Cater will struggle with being seen as cutesy. Given his mandrake vignette and the fact that he seems to admire Vil, I think Cater likes cutesy and feminine things a lot more than he would be willing to admit. He’s probably going to take a while to come to terms with that and not feel like it’s something his sisters forced on him.

(NGL, I could very easily see Cater being a trans girl/genderfluid and not even realizing for a long time why they feel so out of touch with themself until they started experimenting with gender presentation later in their life.)

I think Cater is an introvert. You might think that’s strange, considering he’s outgoing and he’s always putting on a cheery facade, but being introverted merely means that he has a social battery that gets drained by being around people. In canon, we repeatedly see him say that he’s exhausted after dealing with people, particularly ones he doesn’t know all that well. I also think Cater desperately doesn’t want to be an introvert, and he has a bad tendency to push himself to his social limits rather than taking a step back to take a few minutes for himself. To him, being an introvert probably is damaging to his image that he tries to portray.

I do think Cater has depression, though whether it’s just that or if it’s a symptom of another mental illness I am unwilling to theorize on. I do think his negative self-talk is telling of him having self image issues and the unwillingness to change because it’s “pointless” are very big red flags that our boi needs some help from a professional.

Finally, I think Cater holds himself to an awfully high standard in comparison to the people around him. He thinks he has to be the life of the party or he’s going to disappoint the people around him, where I feel the reality would be more likely that if Cater said he wasn’t feeling it/feeling well, people around him would be more than understanding that he can’t always be at a 10.

[lesbianmaxevans]

Max & Liz from Roswell, New Mexico (2019-2022) || Nick & George from Nancy Drew (2019-2023) [part I] happy birthday @helloyona

[Image Description: Nine stacked gifs, each one divided vertically in half. On the left is a scene from Roswell, New Mexico. On the right is a scene from Nancy Drew. Each gif also has capitalized, blocky text overlaying the images in the center.

THE GUARDED, CLOSED OFF ONE: Liz says, “I don’t trust people. I’ve been burned too many times. I use facts and evidence to build a cage around my heart. I can’t help it, I can’t change it. And, honestly, I don’t think I would want to. It’s my armor.” // George says, “ I have a mother who is a neglectful alcoholic, and I’ve had to raise three little sisters on my own. It was really hard, but I adapted, and life hasn’t made me nice. It’s made me vicious.“

THE PROTECTIVE, RUNS INTO DANGER ONE: Max runs into a building as Liz calls after him  // Nick quickly runs into a lake after a friend (offscreen) while George watches, visibly scared

TOP-TIER LOVE CONFESSIONS: Max stands in front of Liz and says, “But you’re not perfect. I see your faults. And I love you. Easily. You believe in the good in me when I can’t see it. So, is it so crazy that I believe in you too? Without evidence. I just… know.” // Nick gently tucks a strand of George’s hair behind her ear. She stares at him in shock as he says, "I love you. You take care of everything and everyone, and I know you don’t need anyone to take care of you, but you need to know you’re loved. Okay, you asked me before what changed from yesterday to today, what do I stand to lose, and… It’s us.”

LIFE-ALTERING FIRST KISS: (this is pretty self explanatory)

DEATH & RESURRECTION: 1 - Liz cries over Max’s lifeless body. 2 - Rosa uses her new ability to restart his heart. // 1 - Nick stares helpless at George after she’s been impaled. 2 - George gasps for air after Nancy uses a magical shroud.

AMNESIA PLOT: Liz looks relieved as she hugs Max, when she pulls away Max says, “I’m - I’m so sorry. Have we met?” // George rushes to Nick, saying, "Nick, you’re okay!” He recoils from her and responds, “Uh, who are you? Wait, you know me?”

FATAL ILLNESS POST RESURRECTION: Max, clearly not in a healthy state is talking with Isobel. M: "The heart is what’s the matter.” I: “No. You’re better. Valenti did a transplant. It’s better.” M: “Yeah. And my body’s rejecting it.” // George is talking to her grandmother’s spirit, and she tells George, “Your life line is beginning to merge with Odette’s. Your original line had a rocky start, but ended up happy and long. Odette’s life line is violent and brief. If you do not find a way to sever your connection, your life line will be greatly shortened.”

 SABOTAGING NEWLY-FOUND STABILITY: After Max learns of her experiments, Liz says, “I’ve discovered something that could be the key to curing people who have no hope otherwise. I can’t walk away!” Max angrily responds, “So you’re gonna turn my family’s stem cells into the hottest commodity?” // George says, "[Dating other people is an] option that I never got to explore when I had an expiration date. I want us to be together for the right reasons, not because we just settled for each other.” Nick, in disbelief, responds, “Oh, you -- you settled for me?”

DOUBLE PROPOSALS: 1 - Max seems very emotional as he says, “What I want to say is that meeting you and being with you elevated my life. When you moved in, you did something I didn’t think was possible. You taught me that I can grow so much more.” 2 - On another occasion, Liz smiles as she holds a ring box behind her back. // 1 - George stands in front of Nick and says, “No more delayed gratification. No more waiting... Ned Nickerson… Will you marry me?” 2 - Nick kneels as he holds a ring box and says, “My answer’s yes. It’s yes. It always has been, with my… with my whole heart... No matter what tries to get in our way, I am never saying goodbye to you. In this life or the next.”]

[semimedieval]

the beach part 2: heteroerotic pearl diving

jenny's playing elden ring and keeps getting murdered by a guy with the sun for his head :( and me, i'm going to read the quartz and rim pearl diving scene. which is like elden ring to me.

Rim shot Through the water like a fish. Breathing wasn't a problem, and if it had been, he could hold his breath for three minutes, swimming full power. He suddenly noticed an oyster, several of them in fact. After a few minutes of diligent searching he found a pearl. (Not the pearl of course) The pearl was suddenly thrust out of the water, and fell on Quartz's head. "Ow!" she exclaimed, taking it out of the water where it had fallen. "What is this?"

Your honor, this is cute. I'm sorry, Quark for life, but this is cute. How do you flirt again? You throw precious items at a girl and then invite her to illuminate underwater darknesses with you. 10/10 no notes. He was right.

"It's a pearl. Duh." said Obsidian.

buddy you are not in that scene your ass was supposed to be racing chuji in the water. This ain't about you. Anyway, Rim comes back, and we hear his date proposition.

Rim bobbed to the surface. "Wanna help me find pearls?" He asked. "It's a bit dark down there, even with my water vision" "Uh...okay." she said, rather nervously. Rim grinned. "Thanks! And don't worry about air or swimming even if you'ld like!" She nodded and dove under.

Quartz trusts him very fast and has no follow-up questions about issues of air or swimming, which creates a delightful sort of retroactive implication that she was nervous about the implication that she's being asked on a sort of date, rather than the question of breathing underwater. Which Rim has covered.

A bubble of air appeared around her head, connected to the world above by a thin tube of air. He picked through the oyster, guided by her light, pick up some which would make good eating, and occasionally, picked up a pearl. She looked around herself, impressed. Underwater, it was unusually calm and quiet.

This is pretty much as atmospheric as we get but it's a really touching and lovely kind of atmospheric and exactly the sort of Extranei Juice that I'm hoping to emphasize in 3.0 – the sort of magic that creates new sight, new ways of seeing, new places to see. Rim and Quartz on the edge of a world that they by all rights should not be present in. I think there's enough vivid possibility in that image that it's almost helping me imagine a rich and interesting middle ground for the pendant stuff that happens later – I think the two should find an underwater cave, insist on backup for exploring it, bring Leander and Mina, and then find that for whatever reason one person (Quartz) must wait outside while the others explore. So we still get the sense of her waiting, helpless, and she does not get a pendant, but she is less comically removed from the action and the horror than she is in 2.0. And of course we get to recreate that image – Wryn trapped and in danger, Quartz waiting outside – at the end of the story. Just a rough sketch – obviously this will all make more sense in the outline. But I want to emphasize Sea Horror more and Sea Wonder too.

I do miss good old Moopy when I reread these roleplays. Wherever they are, I hope they're well.

They don't talk much down here in the roleplay, a feature that I changed in 2.0 – here, I use that moment to heighten emotional intimacy in a fairly utilitarian way. I just have Quartz ask Rim about his past and learn some things about it that she needs to know. I think it can be done better, and I think the way I write their friendship in 2.0 is dominated by my dedication to writing what was interesting to me at the time – a lesbian who figures out she's a lesbian and stays that way with no further divergences or doubts – and moments of intimacy between Quartz and Rim are undercut constantly by her narration going "Wow! That heterosexuality sure is compulsory!!"

Which is not the kind of narrative I find particularly compelling anymore, especially as it reflects a problem in which Quartz, as our only POV character, really only builds lasting moments/arcs of emotional intimacy with Obsidian, Rim, and Spark. She has moments of connection with Ky and Lupus (using the old names is killing me) but only by accident really. And Chuji, even as her future sister-in-law and one of her oldest friends, is criminally ignored by the narrative, all because of stupid beef with Augustine.

The point is Quartz should be so full of love it's killing her, and a little in love with everyone, and certainly a little (more than a little) in love with Rim. Or Wryn, as the case may be.

Here and now, these young and silly proto-versions of them who are still allowed to be a little in love but just as embarrassed about it as all of the gay people around them (much to consider) wrap up their pearl diving trip.

Rim passed her the rest of the pearls. He picked up a few more oysters. "Come on, we should head up again." He said. She nodded and swam upward, surfacing.

Rim announces that oysters are ready to eat. By implication, he lets Quartz keep the pearls.

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

Saw that long ass post about different polite norms in different countries, which talked at length about how you HAVE to start any conversation with "Bonjour" in France.

That's very much true. And it used to be the bane of my existence. Following childhood trauma, I for some reason lost the ability to say "Bonjour" and "Au revoir" as a child. I wasn't shy, I could strike up a conversation with anyone, but I PHYSICALLY couldn't say those words.

And it meant I basically was not allowed to talk to adults. Other children didn't give a shit, but adults would harass me until I said it (which I wouldn't! It never happened!). Like at that point they'd have been talking to me for 15 minutes just trying to get me to say "hello", which was horrible for me since I was completely helpless in that situation, but also didn't even make sense. I knew for a fact it wouldn't kill them to talk to me if I didn't say hello. I was a nice kid who said please and thank you. In some situations, I would even explain that I couldn't say those words and apologise upfront, but that wasn't enough - they needed me to say the magic word.

On its own, I don't really mind that this is part of our culture. I'm used to it - if someone doesn't even say bonjour, I'll say "and he didn't even say bonjour!!!!", though light-heartedly, because clearly I have experience to make me not take it to heart. But I didn't choose to be traumatised, neither did I choose to have that odd, specific trauma response. For pretty much my entire childhood, I had to deal with not being believed and, everyday, basically torturing myself trying to say something that just wouldn't come out. Our culture around "bonjour" is cool, but I think open-mindedness, patience and kindness would be cool too.

I eventually worked on myself to learn to say it again around 12 to 13 years old. I was starting to look old enough that people seriously took offence at me walking in and not saying "bonjour". No matter how small I tried to make myself seem. I knew I couldn't continue this way, so I chose to be patient with myself and try to find ways to make it work. It was awkward for a while, I had to work hard, embarrass myself a bunch of times, but I wanted to do it and I eventually did it. (No I can't explain how. I guess my brain must have been ready.) I'm still a little uncomfortable with saying "au revoir" to this day - I kind of... say other words instead - because it was never that important socially. But at this point in time, "bonjour" is just another word for me... like for normal people.

[guqin-and-flute]

Modern 3zun/A-Fu Verse--Baby Acquisition Continuation

[Part 1] [Modern A-Fu Verse] [AO3 Series]

[Crediting @little-smartass​ with a lot of the characterization/story beats because I’m positive we’ve had a conversation about this at some point]

“He really is as bald as a little cue ball, isn’t he?”

It took Meng Yao several seconds to register that words had been spoken, another to parse the words, then another to tear his gaze up from the pile of early childhood development books he was accumulating in his lap, color coded tabs bristling from the edges. Da-ge was sprawled in the corner of their enormous sage green couch in his slacks and undershirt, bathed in the ghostly, swimming glow of the TV on mute. He was looking down fondly at the newborn tucked into the crook of his arm, fast asleep with his fist shoved up against his face.

A newborn that was, in fact, very bald. And so very tiny.

“Is that normal? Is that a sign of something?” Meng Yao began to anxiously dig around in the plush crevices of the armchair he was folded into for his phone, preparing to search something along the lines of ‘is baby baldness bad??’

On the other half of the L of the couch from Mingjue, Xichen sucked in a shuddering breath through his nose, making them both freeze and look over. But all he did was sigh in his sleep and return to his motionless sprawl where he had collapsed about an hour and a half ago when Mingjue forcibly removed the baby from his arms and insisted he lay down. “Just for 5 minutes,” Meng Yao had also reasoned in a two pronged attack. “No one says you have to nap. Just close your eyes for a bit, then you can take him again while Da-ge makes dinner, if you want.”

Of course, he had fallen asleep immediately as they all had known he would. But one had to give Xichen explicit permission and then a backup compromise and then incentive before he considered doing something so selfish as making sure he wasn’t dead on his feet, even after a day of running errands with an 7 day old who was still suffering from stomach upset from travel. Meng Yao and Mingjue were long since practiced in being able to maneuver around his particular aversion of self care.

When their eyes met again, Mingjue’s were crinkled and he teased in a lower voice, “Being bald is a sign of being an infant, A-Yao. You really know nothing about babies, do you?”

Meng Yao aggressively squashed back the automatic bridling that happened every time a flaw in his...anything was pointed out. Instead, he primly brandished a pastel yellow book with curlicue flowers around the edge. “I am learning.” It’s not my fault I obtained all my siblings after adolescence. Not for lack of trying...

“I’m telling you, most of those are gonna be useless. Everyone’s got something to say and it’s all going to be different. You’re better off just winging it,” Mingjue stage whispered dismissively, rolling his eyes. “It’s just until Xichen’s uncle gets the custody stuff all worked out, so he’ll be gone before you know it. Just enjoy the baby-head smell while he’s here.”

The what? He narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

For some reason, a grin spread over Da-ge’s face--a delighted, self satisfied grin. “Oh.” He got up--(”Don’t wake him up--” Meng Yao hissed, stiffening, remembering his disconcerting little mewling cries from Xichen’s return from the store)--and easily cupped the infant up to his shoulder as he crossed the thick cream carpeting.

“Make room, come on,” Mingjue whispered, grabbing a stack of books in one large hand and carelessly tossing them onto the basket of neatly folded throw blankets beside the armchair.

Lips pursed and fully harassed, now, Meng Yao neatly piled the remaining books down by the leg of the chair. “Why do you insist--” When he sat back up, he immediately almost fumbled the armful of baby that was thrust into them. But Mingjue seemed to have been ready for this, because he just kept pressing him into his chest until Meng Yao’s hold came up automatically to support him.

The baby was warm and very soft, with no tension in him at all as he slept. And so light--almost like some sort of doll. It was hard to believe he was a real, living human being instead of some sort of strange hairless animal. Baxia had more heft, for god’s sake and she was a cat.

For some reason, Meng Yao’s heart rate immediately spiked as if he were being chased. His palms and neck began to sweat. It’s not like he hadn’t held the child in the day that he had been here, he just...well, he actually hadn’t. He hadn’t held any child before--his nephew wasn’t quite born yet and he had never been in a foster home with a baby. All yesterday and last night, he had shadowed Mingjue while he changed the diapers, observing techniques such as ‘The Turkey Hold’ and ‘Tissues Before Wet Wipes’. He had noted the ease with which Xichen just palmed him belly down like a fragile little football while packing the lunches Mingjue had assembled for him and Meng Yao to take to work, or patiently maneuvered his little sausage limbs in and out of clothes like he wasn’t afraid of breaking him.

And they certainly weren’t keeping him from Meng Yao--but he was still researching and information gathering while they had plenty of experience. And the stakes seemed absurdly high to chance a failure with this particular subject He hadn’t been avoiding it, just...he was sure the opportunity would present itself. Eventually.

His face was round and slightly alien in its minute proportions; a perfect miniature of a proper nose, a fine dusting of eyebrows above completely smooth little eyelids, a tiny squinch of a mouth that had fallen open in sleep.  And he sort of smelled like...slightly sour milk and the floral baby detergent Xichen had bought. Nothing that special.

Cautiously, Meng Yao attempted a gentle joggle with his arms, then froze when those little fingers flexed and the baby made a noise, halfway between a snort and a grunt, but so tiny. How on earth did anything this tiny and helpless even exist? How was he allowed to hold something that had this much potential? This much importance? His father wouldn’t even let him touch his fountain pen at the office--how would he ever let Meng Yao hold his heir? “A-Yao, breathe,” Mingjue’s whisper was nearby and amused and when he looked up at him, Meng Yao saw his face was close, leaning down, hands braced on both arms of the chair. Blocking escape.

“I think you should take him back,” Meng Yao hurriedly whispered back. “I don’t think he likes me. He’s going to wake up and cry.”

Mingjue shrugged. “He might.”

Anxiety, old and choking, rose up in his throat like bile, like failure. “Then take him back.”

The asshole just raised his eyebrow. “No. If he does, it’s not the end of the world. Calm down, smell his head.”

“I can smell him just fine from here, I--”

“Smell his head, I’m telling you--”

“Mingjue--” he hissed, baring his teeth, instinctively looking over at the sleeping Xichen to be the tie breaker and peacemaker, but Mingjue just put the back of his fingers to Meng Yao’s cheek and (gently. Always gently.) pushed his face toward the tiny round head tucked to his shoulder.

Stiffly, he gave a grudging, perfunctory sniff, intending to follow the exact letter of the order and not the spirit, because if he was going to be forced--

Oh. Oh. What? Pressing his nose closer, he breathed in properly. What on earth...

His head did smell different from the old spit up and detergent. Warm and--and--almost sweet but not, somehow mild and calming? It felt familiar, even though it wasn’t. How was this unwinding something in his chest? Without intending to, he breathed out through his mouth in order to hastily draw in another breath, deep and slow. It smelled like... sleep and home and softness. Comfort. And he did have hair, actually--downy little fluff, close to the scalp, soft like velvet when he pressed his lips to it to take a third breath. How did the top of his head smell so good? Was it the baby soap they had used? No, it wasn’t, because he could smell traces of that, soapy and artificial. This was something completely organic that somehow exuded from his scalp?

Mingjue chuckled above his head and Meng Yao opened his eyes--that he didn’t even remember closing. He knew he should probably feel more annoyed at his partner’s smugness but the tension that had been humming through him seemed to have utterly bled away. “There, now, was that so hard?”

“What...is it?” he murmured against the baby’s head, unable to tear his nose away.

“Baby-head smell.”

“Baby-head smell?”

“Mm.”

“Do they--do they all smell like this?”

“More or less. It’s so we don’t eat them when they wake us up in the middle of the night, probably. Hormones and shit.”

“Has someone bottled this? Made it into a candle?” He whispered, affronted. “Is this known?” None of the early childhood development books he had read even alluded to the fact that baby heads apparently smelled like magic. “Does Xichen know?”

Mingjue snorted. “Of course you consider marketing. Yeah, most people who’ve handled babies know about the baby-head smell, so now you do, too. Instant stress relief.”

It was. It was like a drug, how instantaneously it worked. Meng Yao greedily breathed in again, cupping his tiny head closer to him. He could feel the thrum of his heart through his back against his forearms.

Mingjue huffed a fond laugh through his nose and smoothed his hand heavily down Meng Yao’s hair, swaying them both gently as one. “See? Not so scary. Now sit there and relax with baby. I’ll make us all dinner.”

Meng Yao could do that--and quite happily.

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Chapter Three

Previous

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.

“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.

“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response

“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.

“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.

“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.

“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.

“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.

“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.

----

Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.

“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.

----

Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.

----

Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.

“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.

“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.

“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.

“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.

“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.

“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.

“No problem.” He says.

“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.

“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.

“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.

“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.

“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.

“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.

----

Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.

“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.

“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.

“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.

“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.

“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.

“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.

“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.

“I won.” She says with a wide grin.

“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.

“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.

“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.

“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”

“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.

“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.

“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.

“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.

“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.

Next

[arcadejohn127-9]

Call me the flash because of how fast I’m asking this! XD

Anyways, how do you think the boys would all react to a MC who HATES Valentines Day because their former boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other dumped them on Valentine’s Day?

Damn we got a speedster over here! Someone call the justice League, you're missing a super XD

As someone who just generally dislikes valentine's I feel like this will go very well~ though seeing as alot of my prompts are the boys and them are already in a relationship - I decided to add abit of ✨ oof✨ to this prompt

Lucifer:

Not a big Valentine times day fan either

Ever since the Devildom was introduced to the holiday he wasn't a fan

There was no such thing as love in the air

But then you came into his house; he still finds it stupid and doesn't get the hype but having you around makes me him wonder if he should do something

When he found out you hated valentine's Day he felt relieved

But because it was because of a past lover???

He sees this as a challenge; you really think he's going to just brush this off?

When valentine comes you are greeted to roses, chocolates, wine and a fully prepared meal for you two

"Is this fitting enough for the holiday? I heard people tend to go overboard these days."

"You know I didn't want to celebrate today-"

You frowned, slowly coming to sit with him at his desk which has been turned into a makeshift table with cloth covering it

"And let some mortal spoil such an occasion even with your present partner? Think of this as your first steps of Getting over them."

"I'm mortal, Lucifer, don't say it like it's something insulting."

He jabbed his fork at you, raising a brow

"You're avoiding my point, don't you wish to move on?"

"I- of course....I'm happy with you."

"Then dig in, I made it myself."

You huffed, digging In but soon found yourself wrapped up in how delicious it was

He raised his wine glass to you, silently gesturing for you to do the same

"To a new meaning to valentine's."

You hesitated but repeated his words

Your glasses clinked and that was the first sign of your relationship becoming stronger

Mammon:

Active lover of the holiday and celebrates every year - couples want gifts and he can get money aswell as the fact he's a romantic

So when he found out you hated valentine's; he had to change that even when he found out why - that reason just made him annoyed that you were still hating on the holiday

"yo! Yo! Yo! Guess who just got money~ this guy so that means I'm treating ya!"

"oh? How comes?"

"It's valentine's! And you're the person I'm spending it with!"

"you know I hate it-"

He huffed, puffing out his cheeks

"And I'm going to make you stop hating it, was that ex of yours really so important you don't wanna spend valentine's with me?"

"It's complicated, I just really hate it now, it's attached to bad memories-"

"then let's change that! Make some good memories so you can stop being a grump on the day of love."

He grabbed your hands, giving you puppy eyes

You were utterly helpless to them and let him take you out

He stole a heart balloon and tied it to your wrist, doing your initials on it in Sharpie with a 'x' between them

He did definitely treat you; buying you chocolates, a teddy bear, the two of you matching keychains and many other items

You let yourself be happy as he got excited, dragging you around to every shop either of you looked at, wanting to get more matching stuff

He definitely made your valentine's a positive one

Levithan:

Hated it

His reason was because he was always alone for them, never getting anything and ending up never giving anyone anything because he believes they'll hate it

He felt Insecure that you seemed to still be attached to the breakup of your ex

Fearing that you could be missing them

You both spent valentine's as a couple but mocking and booing at others

At one point you threw Chocolates you didn't like at a overly touchy demon couples from a window

"Do you still think about them....?"

"Who?"

"Your ex, you're not over your breakup with them and we've been spending Valentines being bitter."

"I thought you enjoyed being bitter about it."

"I do but could you answer my questions, please - I know I'm not much and I'm sure they were so much better than me but maybe we could spend a little bit of valentine's together as you know....a celebrating coup-couple."

He was completely blushing, hiding his face behind his arm hoping his rambling didn't completely ruin your feelings towards him

"If you really want to, I don't have any feelings for my ex and it's just that reflection that sticks with me but, I wanna try if it'll make you feel more secure."

You guys ended up watching 'normie' movies, cuddled in his bathtub bed eating what was left your chocolates

You kissed his jaw and he immediately stopped functioning

You smiled, holding him closer

Perhaps valentine's can be a good time

Satan:

Casual valentine's man

Doesn't really care for the holiday and only has spent it with his brothers

He's use to just giving his brothers a small gift and never have a partner to spend it with

But things were different now and sadly, you hated the holiday

He respected your reason why but he felt worried that you were fully over your ex as you still let the holiday be ruined for you

He got you a small gift like he does his brother's

Wanting you to be apart of it but not doing anything big

"happy valentine's, I know you don't celebrate it but I thought you'd like the gift anyway."

"Satan....I didn't get you anything- Let's go out then, I'll treat you."

"I'll consider it a valentine's date."

Whilst he normally had a 'meh' feeling to it, he wanted to spend his first valentine's with you on a date

He just wants the experience and can say he's spend it with you

Even if it was a one time thing

"really Satan?"

"Let's spend this one together and be happy, next year we can go destory things and let out our anger towards the world."

That won you over, you agreed

You took him on a date

You both tried to ignore all the decorations everywhere but that was pretty hard, got lunch together and even walked around to see the new sights

You ended up in the park, staring to the horizon with confetti on your backs and Satan with a party hat

It was forced on him whilst you guys were out but he never got rid of it

"I liked today, maybe after we destory things we can go on another date next year?"

Asmodeus:

He LOVES love!

Nothing brings him more joy than valentine's

Aphrodisiacs are being sold EVERYWHERE

When he found you out hated it he was so upset, he wanted to spend it with you! His usual valentine's crew was nothing compared to you!

And you hated it because of an ex dumping you?!

"Noooooooo! (Y/N) don't let them ruin this for you, please, let's go on a cute picnic or even just stay in room if you don't want to go outside-"

If anyone saw asmo hugging your leg whilst you trudged down the halls, they definitely didn't say anything

"Let me spend today how I want!"

"what? Eat ice cream and get grumpy over someone you're not dating anymore?"

You frowned, knowing he was right

"why not spend it with your gorgeous boyfriend instead? Don't I shine up on your day?"

He had those Puppy eyes again

You finally stopped trying to get away from him, crouching down and cupping his face

"will you let go of my leg if I say yes?"

He nodded

As soon as he stood up you helped him straighten up his clothes, fixing his hair for him

"I'm sorry for dragging you around the house, I know I shouldn't be moping but it just really hurt."

"I know, darling but let's get through this together, we'll do whatever you want."

He was being honest; you were in charge of the whole day

You stayed in his room, having a romantic bath and then ate your feelings

After that you both went out and enjoyed dinner

Life really was happier with him; you decided you'll be doing with him more often

Beezlebub:

Mainly focuses on family valentine's

Has had to play a few sports game on the holiday and every player got a kiss and gift from a cheerleader

He liked the thought and always liked it when he was given food

But he wasn't interested in any of them

Or really the holiday itself, he always wants to share his love for the people around him

Why wait until some holiday to do it?

But when he finds out you hate valentine's and it's because of your ex

He considered fighting your ex

Doesn't want to force you to celebrate with him but wants to be able to do stuff with you

"Wanna go out to eat? They have valentine's day deals."

"i don't really feel like taking any part of it."

"I want to spend today with you and don't like seeing you being upset over the past."

"You just want to eat? No surprise dates or big deal about today?"

"no, just want to hang out with you."

"....okay."

He immediately took your hand, taking you to the restaurant he saw online

On the way we got you a magic rose

Handing it over for you to wear

But other than that he stuck to his word,just having eating out with you and didn't even talk about the holiday

You smiled but apart of you did feel bad you were going to stop something like this from having because of your ex

You felt the rose, looking up at him

"Want to take a couple's picture? They're doing it for couples celebrating today."

"we don't have to, you don't like today."

But you insisted, letting him pick you up for the picture and kissed his cheek

You were able to get the picture in different sizes and he put the small one in his wallet

From then on you planned to keep spending Valentines with beel

Belphegor:

Absolutely disgusted by it

Will always tell anyone how much he hates it

But on the other hand, he watches romcoms and yells at the TV for the chatacters not understanding they love each other every valentine's

He's just trying to keep up his edgelord persona, okay

When he learned you hated valentine's he was happy

Means he didn't have to do anything

But it's because of your ex?? He's now going to be romantic as FUCK

You enter the attic expecting to find a chill place to rest but instead there are rose petals everywhere and belphie laying waiting for you

You expected something like this from asmo but you couldn't deny seeing your boyfriend try to be romantic whilst half asleep was pretty cute

"I have romcoms and violent horror movies, pick your flavour."

"what's with all this? You know my feelings about Valentine's."

"I'm not going to let some pathetic ex ruin this valentine's for us, so I'm romancing you - is it working?"

"I'm picking the horror movie."

You put the dvd in ignoring him

"That doesn't change the mood for me."

You should of known

You cuddled and watched as people got ripped open and blood went flying

Belphie wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever an couple came on

You just shoved his face laughing

You forgot your bitter feelings and looked down at your now asleep boyfriend

"thanks for today, maybe you can try again next year."

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Thrilled by it all!

It's so heart warming to see love be so celebrated

Demons were always so violent and everything had to be edgy - he was tired of it

Was disappointed you hated it, he already had plans for the both of you

But after finding out the reason - it seems all his scheduling was back and the gifts became more grand

"Trust me, I'll change your mind on Valentines! We're together now and I want to treat you to a date."

"but why? I don't wanna take part-"

"We are going to get through your heartbreak together! I know things can still sting even when you feel over it, so let's just try."

You thought it over, nodding

He just grinned, taking you by the shoulder and led you to the royal carriage

You struggled to sit down when it was filled with gifts and flowers

They all had your name on them and immediately blushed

You should of known he'd go all out

He took you to see the Devildom at night, where all the lights covered the streets like stars

He set up a picnic in the park and you both ended up dancing in the water fountain

"I really enjoyed today, thank you."

He kissed your cheek, telling you not to worry

Barbatos:

Isn't a fan of all the decorating and cleaning up that'll be involved when the day is over

But he gets time off to de-stress and that's always a plus

He was thankful you weren't a fan of Valentines but your ex? He might have to write them out of timelines

Understood you just had a sting from it all and was use to feeling that way

Was surprised when you were one to actually make the first move on Valentines

"I wanted to give you this, I don't want to celebrate but I thought this could be nice?"

It was a pocket watch with a hidden compartment, it had a picture of you and him

Good thing he also got you something; a locket with the same picture you have him

Was it an accident? On purpose? He'll never tell, he just knows it's your favourite picture of you two

"I see, then we won't celebrate it but I'm sure you would still be willing to accompany me in the gardens?"

Takes you on a boat ride across the lake even better as it's sunset and the water looks immaculate

Cooks you both dinner and you just spend the day as if it was any other

"I like spending Valentines with you."

"I would hope so or I would fail as your boyfriend."

"I wanna spend the next one with you properly."

"As you wish, I'll be sure to make it the best one you've ever experienced."

Solomon:

Forgets holidays

Always likes bringing up history facts about any holiday as he's seen them all evolve from one part of history to modern day

Pretends to not know how to celebrate it so people will try to explain it to him and end up not really knowing why they celebrate things

You hate Valentines? Doesn't care but it's because of your ex? That he doesn't get

"So you're still hurting from your past relationship that you don't want to spend valentine's with your boyfriend?"

"when you say it like that it sounds really bad."

"I'm not really up for celebrating so it makes no difference to me but I'm not sure I can accept you still letting them upset."

You sighted, knowing he was going to make up some sort of plan or trick

But instead he just kissed your hand

"let's go to the human world, I heard there's a traveling fairground."

You agreed to go, both of you making it there in seconds and of course everything was heart themed

You couldn't escape the love

It was actually really fun! There were bouncy castles, a Ferris wheel and lots of food stands

You were definitely willing to celebrate again if it was going to be like this

Simeon:

A day of love? It's Charming

Finds it amusing how people can much such a big deal out of it all

Though he thinks you should always be expressive of how much you love the people around you

So you hating it was an opposite to him but he was respectful

Knowing it was because of your ex made him displeased

Whilst very understanding, wanted to atleast improve your opinion on the holiday so you didn't associate it with them anymore

"Let's just do one couples related thing today then we can do whatever you please."

"but why? I should be allowed to dislike what I dislike."

"you're absolutely right but you're letting an ex ruin a whole day for you, don't you want to spend it with me?"

"of course I do! I'm just unsure."

He smiled, grasping your hands

"that's fine, we won't do anything big, just a fun date and then you're free to do as you please."

He was right, you didn't do anything big

Just went to a pottery class and you made all sorts of clay creations together

It was peaceful and there was no Valentines being forced down on you

You giggled when he showed you the clay heart he made

"we should make this our thing, valentine's we do things like this together."

He agreed, happy to make Valentines whatever you wanted it to be

[makeste]

is it too late now to say sorry

anon I agree with almost all of this for the most part, but if you don’t mind I would like to come to Kacchan’s defense here a little bit. while he absolutely does need to apologize to Izuku, there are reasons why he hasn’t done so yet which boil down to a lot more than simply “he’s still a dick.”

anyway, so for my next trick, I will take the thesis statement of “Kacchan is afraid to apologize to Deku for both selfish and unselfish reasons, and Deku doesn’t realize how much he needs to hear the apology because he pays no attention to his own needs”, and somehow transform that into a 3500 word rant lol.

first of all, I’ve said this before, but on the topic of whether or not Katsuki actually needs to apologize to Deku at all, my answer is an emphatic “yes.” is it necessary in order for him to earn Deku’s forgiveness? no. in fact I’m pretty sure Deku has already forgiven him. because that kid doesn’t have a petty bone in his body (not that wanting an apology from your friend who basically turned on you and made your life miserable for ten years and told you to go kill yourself is in any way petty at all), and because he has staunchly held on to what he could of their relationship throughout that entire time, hoping that one day they could somehow be friends again. Kacchan never stopped being “Kacchan” to him. Deku never stopped caring about him. and that goes beyond him simply being a good person; there’s also just an attachment there, for lack of a better word, that he is simply unwilling to give up. their friendship is that important to him. Kacchan is that important to him.

but just because Katsuki is almost guaranteed forgiveness from Izuku doesn’t mean the apology isn’t still owed. putting aside that it’s really the least he could do, I think an apology is also necessary in order for their friendship to ever move past the level it’s currently stuck at, for one simple reason: Izuku doesn’t actually know that Katsuki cares.

more specifically, he doesn’t know that Katsuki actually cares about him. because Katsuki, for various reasons which I’ll get to momentarily, has done such a spectacular job of hiding this fact that he even fooled a lot of us for a very long time. before chapter 284 came along, there was hardly any evidence at all that Katsuki actually cared about Izuku as a person beyond just the requisite, bare minimum level of “well I don’t actually want you to die or anything, because I’m not a complete shithead.”

because he hides it. and he hides it on purpose, which is a mind-blowing revelation I’m still only just starting to wrap my head around. it’s an act. all of his continued hostility toward Izuku since the Endeavor internship arc -- and possibly going even further back than that; possibly going all the way back to their second Ground Beta fight -- has been an act. here he is, continuing to bitch at him at every turn and basically doing everything he can to remind Izuku that They Are Rivals And Nothing More, and he has played that role so perfectly that hardly anyone suspected what was actually going on.

he cares about Izuku. not just subconsciously on a level where he’s in denial about it, but to a fully conscious and aware degree. he’s dedicated himself to helping Izuku as his way of trying to make amends. that’s a decision he consciously made, something he’s given a lot of thought to. he worries about Izuku. he worries about his selflessness and his recklessness and that one day he’ll take it too far and it will go terribly wrong. he worries about One For All and All For One, and about the legacy his friend has inherited that’s so much bigger than him, and which he knows Izuku won’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for if it ever comes to that. he worries. he cares.

and Izuku does not know this. and he deserves to know this. and that’s why the apology is so important. not because it’s a magic sentence that will miraculously restore the ten years of friendship and trust that was lost between them, or heal the ten years of pain and misery that Izuku went through alone and friendless, because nothing can ever restore or heal that. as a gesture, an apology is nice, but it’s also fairly useless, at least on its own. it’s meaningless without action to support it, and rather pales in significance when held up against the LITERAL DECADE of misery that it’s trying to make up for.

but the reason it’s still so, so important in spite of all this is because Izuku doesn’t know that Katsuki cares about him. he doesn’t know that their friendship isn’t just one-sided. he does know that Katsuki is a good person, and that he has a good core beneath his prickly exterior. and he’s more adept than most people at seeing past Katsuki’s outer shell of bullshit and understanding what lies beneath. but he has a blind spot, and that blind spot is himself.

he hasn’t made the connection between “Kacchan is a good person who cares about other people and is trying to do the right thing” to “Kacchan cares about me.” because Kacchan has been diligent in making sure that every time Izuku does start to make that connection, that he shoots it back down and disproves it as vehemently as he can.

which, just to be clear, is actually a huge load of bull, as we now know. huh.

but anyway. the point is that Katsuki is still hiding this part of himself from Izuku. the fact that he actually cares. the fact that their friendship is reciprocated on a level that goes beyond just rivalry and shared secrets and a mutual admiration for All Might. Izuku doesn’t know yet how much Katsuki cares about him, and he deserves to know.

and that’s why the apology is important. not because the words themselves are important, but because he deserves to know that Katsuki is sorry. he deserves to know that Katsuki cares about him. he deserves to know that he’s valued, that Katsuki sees him as someone who has value. he deserves that. and that, more than anything else, is why the apology is needed, and why it’s important for him to actually hear those words. because Katsuki was spot on when he said that Izuku doesn’t see himself in the way that he should, and I think he needs this to help him understand a little better just how much value he actually has.

so that’s part one of my rant! and now we move on to part two, which can basically be summarized as “okay but then WHY has Katsuki not just FUCKING APOLOGIZED TO HIM ALREADY.” because yeah, though. at the end of the day, this is all on him. and he does care, and he is sorry. so then what is still holding him back??

and that... is complicated. and it basically boils down to four things.

1. it’s insufficient.

ten years. all the way back to when they were four years old and Izuku first learned that he didn’t have a quirk. ten years of Katsuki bullying him and distancing himself from him. ten years of pain and isolation and unhappiness that Izuku absolutely did not deserve.

and yes, it ultimately stemmed from a misunderstanding, but that doesn’t make it right in the least. there’s absolutely no justification for it. Katsuki knew that it was wrong and he acted like that nonetheless. and anyone who says that Izuku in any way brought it on himself, that it’s in any way his fault or that he invited it on himself by not leaving Katsuki alone -- you can miss me with that, tbh. he was a child and he was lonely and confused and didn’t understand why his best friend had suddenly turned his back on him. this was the most vulnerable period in his life, and the person who should have had his back ended up being the person who made it even worse for him instead. and even after Izuku grew out of the so-called stalking and actually did mind his own business, and just admired Katsuki from a distance -- that still wasn’t enough to appease Katsuki either. even just the mere mention of Izuku wanting to go to U.A. was enough to set him off worse than ever before. that was absolutely not Izuku’s fault in any way, and I’m positive that even Katsuki himself would agree. Katsuki was terrible. I can’t emphasize enough just how terrible he was.

so yeah. ten years of that. and now Katsuki finally realizes just how awful it was. and he’s sorry! and he regrets it, a lot, and he wants to atone for it.

but now here’s problem number one: when you put it up in comparison to ALL OF THAT, an apology just feels overwhelmingly inadequate. almost laughably so. and Katsuki may be a bit emotionally dense (although perhaps less so than we always thought), but he’s sharp enough to realize this much, at least. it’s almost pathetic to simply try saying “I’m sorry” after all of that, and expect it to mean anything at all. it’s not enough. it’s so much not enough that I imagine he must almost feel helpless just imagining it. the weight of everything he’s done is so much, and an apology isn’t enough to undo any of it. it’s not even close.

Katsuki isn’t someone who backs down from things easily, but the sheer scale of the mistakes he’s trying to grapple with now is enough to give just about anyone pause. how do you even begin to address something like that? how can you even begin to make up for it? and Katsuki isn’t stupid, and I have to imagine that everything he saw during that first week of interning with Endeavor only cemented this for him. an apology simply isn’t enough. not for something like this.

2. it’s unfamiliar.

reason number two! and this one is a bit selfish on his part, yeah. but Katsuki is still just a kid too. and his falling out with Izuku didn’t only have a negative impact on Izuku; it hurt Katsuki as well. he lost that friendship too. he thought Izuku was looking down on him, and I’m certain that hurt him a lot more than he ever let on. if you trust someone and care about them only to have them turn on you like that (even though he got it wrong and it was ultimately all just in his head) -- that hurts. it’s not a coincidence that he became closed off and mean afterwards, and that even now he’s resistant to letting other people get close to him. for all that it was more or less self-inflicted, it still had a huge impact.

but now he’s learned that Izuku was never looking down on him at all and that he had it wrong this whole time. and as a result, he’s gotten this chance now to try and rebuild the childhood friendship that he almost destroyed. and make no mistake, this is something he wants too. it’s not just Izuku who’s grateful to have this chance to have normal interactions with the other again. this is something both of them value, and Katsuki doesn’t want to ruin it this time.

so he’s picking up where he left off! only the thing is, this involves him reverting to a blueprint that hasn’t been updated since the two of them were four years old, lol. “normal” for them is him being a bossy little snot, and Izuku happily shrugging it off with all of his limitless nerdy enthusiasm as they go about their various misadventures together. it’s a script that hasn’t changed since they were children, and one they’re both still more than content to use, but it is an outdated script nonetheless. Katsuki is playing the role that Izuku expects him to play. and it’s not like he’s being dishonest or anything like that, because that’s still him; he’s still his same old short-tempered, argumentative self, and it’s not like his personality has done a complete 180 or anything like that.

but at the same time, there’s a calmer side to him now which he is deliberately keeping hidden from Izuku because it’s off-script for them. it’s unfamiliar ground. with Izuku, he’s always been this Kacchan:

and again, it’s not like he isn’t actually that person, especially when it comes to his old rival. but at the same time, there’s another side to him that he rarely if ever lets Izuku in particular see. Izuku never sees the quiet Kacchan who avoids other people’s eyes while he fiddles with his water bottle and calmly asks questions about the OFA successors. Izuku never sees the insightful Kacchan who opens up about his own regrets and weaknesses. there’s a level of emotional intimacy, for lack of a better term, that Katsuki has been unwilling to let them cross into. and if I had to guess why, my guess would be that it’s because Katsuki is afraid that changing up the formula now will lead to unfamiliar territory which may or may not end up completely upending their relationship just as it’s starting to grow into something actually solid again.

which brings me to reason #3!

3. he’s afraid.

Katsuki already experienced what it was like to fall out with Izuku. and again, for all that he was the cause of it, and that Izuku had it much, much worse, that doesn’t change the fact that it was a pretty terrible experience for him as well.

and look, we know Katsuki is afraid of losing Izuku. that’s confirmed canon now. he actually admitted that he was worried about Izuku, and that Izuku’s tendency to recklessly disregard his own wellbeing unsettled him and made him want to keep his distance. and he sacrificed himself to save Izuku’s life!! and did it automatically, unthinkingly, because the decision-making on his part was so fast it didn’t even register. that’s how much he cares. enough that his desire to protect Izuku now ranks higher than his own self-preservation.

and when something is that important to you, you will fight not to lose it. and Katsuki does not want to lose this. Izuku is important to him. by extension that means their friendship is important to him. and he wants to preserve that.

and the thing is, the apology is an obstacle to that. and he knows it. he knows he has to face it at some point, because he can’t atone without it. he has to take responsibility for what he did. he can’t keep running away from it forever.

but he also knows the potential consequences. he knows that apologies don’t always end in reconciliation. he knows falling-outs don’t always have a happy ending. he knows that forgiveness isn’t automatic, and that years of pain don’t just disappear just like that. and he recently got to see firsthand one possible way how it might all turn out.

he knows Izuku doesn’t have to forgive him. he knows Izuku might not forgive him. and he knows that he probably doesn’t deserve Izuku’s forgiveness, and that ultimately he does not have a say in the matter one way or the other. it’s Izuku’s choice, at the end of the day, and whatever he chooses Katsuki is going to have to accept it.

but you can know all of that, and accept the fact that you’re going to have to take responsibility, and yet still be afraid to face it. and yes, maybe it’s selfish of him to feel that way. but that selfishness is also human. it’s human to fear rejection, and it’s human to go through the various stages of trying to postpone having to face that. Katsuki is a brave kid, but he is just a kid, still. and this is going to be very hard for him to do. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still have to be done. but I feel for him and I have a lot of empathy for the situation he’s currently in.

and there is also one last reason why I think he’s putting it off as well, and it just so happens that this reason actually isn’t selfish at all.

4. he doesn’t want false forgiveness.

and this one is ironically kind of at odds with reason #3! Katsuki fears the possibility of Izuku not forgiving him... but at the same time, I think that strangely enough, there’s also a part of him that fears being forgiven, just like that. easily and gladly and unconditionally, with the trademark selflessness that defines so many of Izuku’s other decisions.

“he just... deep down, he doesn’t take himself into account, y’know?”

Izuku rarely if ever takes himself into consideration, and Katsuki knows this. he’s selfless to a fault, and Katsuki knows this. and so if Katsuki were to come up to him and apologize, there’s the possibility that yes, Izuku might decide not forgive him. he might in fact be all “nah, you know what, fuck you,” as would certainly be within his rights.

but this is a very remote possibility, and we all know it. and Katsuki knows it too, I think. because that’s not who Izuku is. he puts other people’s welfare above his own, every time. and so if Katsuki were to break down and tell Izuku that he was sorry, and if he were to ask him for forgiveness, nine times out of ten that is something that Izuku grants instantly. this is the same kid who put his own life at risk to try and save Katsuki less than an hour after Katsuki told him to dive off a roof. Izuku’s instinct is to protect and save. and so if he sees that Katsuki is hurting; if he sees that Katsuki feels guilty for what he’s done and that it’s eating away at him in much the same way as when he was blaming himself for Kamino -- he is going to do what he always does. he is going to try and save him.

and he would do that even if it meant shoving down his own pain. he absolutely would. he would prioritize Katsuki’s feelings over his own. and if he did still feel any lingering resentment at how cruelly he was treated, he would still put it aside if need be. and he would forgive him.

in other words, the risk exists that Izuku might grant Katsuki forgiveness that he doesn’t actually feel. if Katsuki is granted Izuku’s forgiveness, he doesn’t have any way to actually tell for sure if it’s real. there would be that element of doubt there, that question of whether or not it’s really sincere. and something like that could ultimately poison their relationship, if things were allowed to play out that way. it would prevent them from being fully able to trust each other. ultimately, it might lead to them drifting apart again, and something like that might ultimately be even more painful than Izuku rejecting Katsuki’s apology outright. and there’s also an argument to be made that Izuku doesn’t deserve to be put on the spot like that, and forced to make that decision one way or the other when he might not be ready to yet. so there’s that to consider as well.

so yeah. four reasons why Katsuki has not apologized to Izuku yet. and they are good reasons, in my book. complicated reasons, too. but none of that changes the fact that at the end of the day this is still something he has to do. his current way of trying to atone through action is great, don’t get me wrong! and it’s necessary too for sure, because like I said, the apology just on its own is never going to be enough. he needs to commit to doing the right thing, and trying his best to make it right between them from here on out. and saving his life is certainly a decent start! but you still gotta say the words too eventually bro.

but there is just a ton of stuff at play here and I find it all fascinating tbh. they are just so, so bad at communicating with each other. and the thing is, they both actually want the same thing! but they want it so badly that ironically it’s almost holding them back right now, because they don’t want to put it at risk. but ultimately this is a leap of faith that Katsuki in particular is going to have to take sooner rather than later in order to finally restore that last bit of trust between the two of them.

so yeah. just two stupid teenage boys who fail at emotions, and who are probably overdue for another of their famous Get It All Out In The Open stupid shounen therapy battles lmao. round 3, featuring Deku’s new robot arms vs Katsuki and his shiny new “like father like son” All Might torso scar. sob.

[pellucidity-is-me]

Poppy Pomfrey Hates Werewolves

Summary: The year is 1971, and Madam Pomfrey is finding it more difficult than expected to care for an eleven-year-old werewolf student. She turns to a late-night conversation with Minerva McGonagall in order to soothe her frustrations.

Wordcount: 3843

Poppy Pomfrey hated werewolves.

No, that wasn't the right wording. Poppy loved Remus very much; she thought that he was a clever, lovable boy who deserved to be at Hogwarts more than some of the other ridiculous buffoons (ahem: Potter and Black).

In fact, the Lupins in general were lovely people. Poppy remembered Remus' father, Lyall Lupin, from her first year at Hogwarts—he’d been six years older than she was and in a different House, so they hadn't been close. Yet she did remember that Lyall was a lot like Remus in the sense that he'd received very good marks and was usually quiet and mild-mannered. But his temper! Arguments with Lyall were bound to lead to a fight—either the Muggle way or the wizarding way; Lyall was willing to participate in either. Poppy saw Lyall in Remus often, even though she hadn't known Lyall very well. They looked alike, yes, but there was also something deeper. Both had odd interests and were a bit eccentric. Both were clever. Both had an unexpectedly honed sense of humor. And both (as Poppy knew from some of Hope's letters) were very prone to guilt.

Hope was Remus' mother, and Poppy liked her just as much as she liked Remus. She was a wonderful mother and a lot of fun. A stereotypical doting mother, really. Hope, like Lyall and Remus, was very funny, and Poppy often found herself laughing out loud at her letters. Poppy probably learned much more about young Remus than Remus would have been comfortable with, but Hope just couldn't help oversharing. Poppy suspected that she'd never before had anyone to talk to about Remus without fear of his lycanthropy getting out. Poppy liked Hope so much, in fact, that they had plans to meet during Christmas holidays. Poppy could see the two of them becoming very good friends.

Yes, Poppy was fond of Remus, as well as both of his parents. But she hated werewolves.

Not werewolves. Not really. Poppy hated lycanthropy. Poppy hated the fact that Remus had to go through unimaginable pain every single month. And he was so young! Four years old, that's how old he had been. It made Poppy feel ill sometimes, and it was the type of illness that even she—the most experienced school matron in the world, probably—could not cure.

It had gone relatively well for the first couple of months—well, not well, per se, but they’d survived. At least Remus had always been conscious and somewhat coherent afterwards. Remus had a habit of making jokes when he was uncomfortable, and it always made it easier to stop feeling so horrible when he was making the odd sarcastic comment. But the first December full moon was far worse than usual. 

When Poppy crawled through the tunnel the morning after the December full moon and saw Remus, unconscious on the floor and bleeding out, she nearly vomited. She wasn't ready for this! She couldn’t! She’d never had to do anything like this before, and this was absolutely terrible. He shouldn’t have to deal with that every month. She shouldn’t have to deal with this every month. 

How dare Dumbledore ask her to help him? She was only human. She couldn't see this, month after month and day after day. Such a young student. So small and thin and delicate. This was horrible for her, too!

And no one even asked her! It wasn't as if Dumbledore had said "Good morning, Poppy, would you be willing to care for a werewolf in September 1971?" No, he had flat-out told her that there was nothing she could do about it. She still remembered his exact words. A very special student... infected with lycanthropy... deserves a chance to learn, as all children do... Poppy will be caring for him after full moons... Don't try to protest his coming here, I have made my decision. Ridiculous. The man never asked anyone else's opinion. 

Poppy wouldn't have protested, though, and she felt even worse when she realized what she was insinuating. Remus, stay home and never come to Hogwarts? That wouldn't stop the transformations; that would only make them worse. Besides, having to see it was nothing compared to actually going through it... But still. It was so hard to think of it all—so difficult to be given a burden that no one, be it child or school matron, should have to carry.

Poppy was used to being able to help people. That was her job. She loved helping people. But there was no cure for lycanthropy, and it was far beyond Poppy’s abilities to comprehend, even, how terrible it must be for the eleven-year-old child... for a five-year-old child. Remus had endured countless full moons, and each one left him with injuries worse than some of the worst accidents that Poppy had ever seen. It made her sick.

Regardless of her feelings, though, Poppy now stood in the Shrieking Shack. Her wand was dangling limply from her hand as she stared at the deep gashes in the wall and the equally limp boy on the floor who had somehow—somehow—made them.

She couldn't help it at that point. She left. She couldn't look at him any longer; it was driving her mad.

She'd always thought magic to be a wonderful thing: capable of healing and helping and loving. But it wasn't. Magic wasn't all good at all. Here was the darker side—the horrific, awful, terrifying side that left eleven-year-old children so ill that they couldn't eat, turned them into horrifying beasts against their will, and then left them bruised and broken on the floors of their own torture chambers. Why did she even try? She couldn't change anything. She'd never help Remus Lupin, no matter how much time she spent soothing his worries and healing his injuries. He'd always have to go through this. There was no cure, and Poppy felt helpless. She hadn't felt this awful since she'd failed that student who spent half a year as a rock.

She’d only meant to leave for a bit (she needed more potions for Remus, anyhow, and she also needed a bit of air. Remus would be fine). But then she came across a panicking Slughorn who professed that a girl had drank too much of a potentially deadly potion and needed to be taken to St. Mungo’s. The girl’s parents weren’t available. Someone would have to take her.

When Professor John Questus, current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, offered to stay and look after Remus, Poppy couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to take a breather.

So she took the girl to St. Mungo’s herself and left Remus with the Defense professor. She needed some time away—some time to think things over. She knew that it was probably the better option to stay with Remus, but she couldn't. She couldn't help popping in every few hours over Floo to make sure that Remus had not died due to her negligence—but she stayed away, for the most part. And she talked to Remus' toad that had crept into her apron. He really was good conversation, even if he was slimy-looking and warty.

"What was your name? Bufo?"

Bufo blinked.

"Do you think I've failed?"

Bufo cocked his gross little head.

"People trusted me, and I just left. That's unacceptable."

Bufo croaked.

"I'm a terrible matron." Poppy felt tears well up in her eyes. She'd left Remus to John Questus. John Questus! He was probably asking Remus all sorts of uncomfortable questions and snapping at him for being too emotional when Remus needed love and comfort and care. Because that was what John Questus did. As a former Auror, he knew Healing magic, to be sure... but he just wasn’t the type of person to care for a scared child. 

Remus was injured, and Poppy had left him—left him!—all alone on the floor of the Shrieking Shack—the Shrieking Shack!—with no one to help him. What if he had woken up all alone and scared and in pain and waited, but no one came, and then the most horribly unsympathetic professor at Hogwarts showed up and told him that Poppy had left! Just left! Poppy didn't want to think of how awful Remus, who already mistakenly assumed that most everyone hated him, might have felt.

Suddenly, she felt a small weight on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw Bufo snuggling against her neck. Poppy sniffed and patted his leathery skin a bit—he wasn't so bad, after all.

And Remus seemed mostly okay when she'd returned to Hogwarts. John had missed one of his wounds, and it ended up becoming terribly infected. Poppy was angry with John at first, but it didn't take long before she realized that it was her fault. The man wasn't an experienced Healer, after all, even though he did know a bit of Healing magic. Remus was her job, and she'd abandoned him just because she was feeling emotional.

Now it was Tuesday, and Poppy was certain that Remus would sleep through the night. He was looking so much better, and Poppy had no doubt that he would be all right upon going back to classes on Wednesday. Even his arm was healing up, and he'd managed to walk around the Hospital Wing the other day without any problems—he even took a bath all by himself. So she left him in her office (under the watchful eyes of Bufo), and went to talk to Minerva McGonagall.

Minerva and Poppy had been in the same year at Hogwarts and had been acquaintances (despite the fact that they were in different Houses). Since Minerva had already been teaching when Poppy had become the matron, they'd only gotten closer. Poppy would consider Minerva to be her closest friend, even—they certainly saw a lot of each other. They'd been colleagues for about twenty years now. It was mad, how quickly the time flew.

Poppy knew that Minerva was uncomfortable around Remus (she never liked werewolves much), but it was clear that she was trying—Poppy appreciated that. And Remus seemed to enjoy Minerva's company (but then again, he seemed to enjoy everybody's company. Even John Questus', for some reason). Poppy had never spoken to Minerva about Remus one-on-one (though she tended to chatter about him during staff meetings), but she was sure that Minerva wouldn't mind.

She knocked on Minerva's door, and Minerva let her in with a smile. "Poppy. May I help you?"

"I... only need to talk." Poppy often came to Minerva to chat; despite Poppy's no-nonsense exterior and usually-immaculate bedside manner, she was frightfully emotional. Anyone who told the students that, though, would be getting a rather nasty hex that Madam Pomfrey "wouldn't be able to heal".

"Of course," said Minerva. "Come in; I'll make tea."

"Are you sure? It's late, and I don't want to keep you up."

"I'm sure. I was having trouble sleeping, anyway."

"Yes, I noticed that your hair is still up."

Minerva smiled and undid her bun. "It's been a long day. Do you know, Potter and Black still insist on calling me by my first name? Those insolent, disrespectful..."

"I can't believe that Remus is friends with them."

"Is this about Remus, then?" said Minerva, nearly laughing. "You have that same look on your face whenever you talk about him during the staff meetings."

Poppy rearranged her face. "Look? What kind of look?"

"You worry about him. Understandably so, of course."

"Yes, yes." Minerva offered Poppy a teacup, and she took it gratefully. "I just... I can't. Minerva, it's awful!"

Minerva sat back patiently with her own cup of tea, not even batting an eye. "Yes, I know."

It all came spilling out at once. "I've done research! We all have! Did you read the article in the paper? The Shrieking Shack, they call it. Shrieking? Wolves don't shriek, Minerva—people do! It's painful; it's hurting him! And his pain threshold is so incredibly high that I... I can't even... I can't even imagine how bad it is, to make him hurt enough to actually cry out. He's so thin and sickly and pale all the time, and he's so small and delicate for his age, and he... I can't get over his pain threshold! He doesn't even flinch when I heal a broken bone, Minerva. Doesn't even flinch. He walks all the way back to the castle, month after month, with worse injuries than... than anything, really.

"And he just has to live with it—wounds all over his body all the time, can't even heal up completely before the next full moon rolls around, can't eat properly on the day before, can't even attend class because he's feeling so sickly. He gets through injuries that would cripple a grown man... and complains less than a miffed Gryffindor when Slytherin wins the House Cup! And he has to live with it! All the time!"

Minerva looked appropriately saddened and kept listening silently. She was good at that.

"He was four, he told me. Four, nearly five. He was attacked by a fully-fledged werewolf—and he let slip that said werewolf attacked him on purpose!—when he was a little more than a toddler. I've seen the scar, and I know enough about injuries to know that it must have been life-threatening. And most of it is on his shoulder, just near his neck! Just... can you imagine? Being a four-year-old child and a werewolf biting you—only inches away from snapping your neck... and then living as one? He's traumatized! He has nightmares, Minerva! Still! After six years, and he flinches whenever I get close."

Minerva pursed her lips and refilled Poppy's tea, which she had spilled all over her lap. Poppy didn't even care at this point.

"I hate it. I hate it. I hate coming to the Shack and seeing him half-dead. I hate his complacent expression, like he's been through it many before... because he has! He has! It's... what, eighty times now? I don't know! And he probably doesn't even keep track, because it's such a normal thing now! That sort of thing should never be normal! And not for a child, especially. A child! Eleven, but he looks so much older—he's so much more mature than he should be—he's seen more than children should, been through more than I have! Merlin's beard. Sometimes I want him to yell at me and get angry over it all, because he never really has. Cool as a cucumber about the whole thing. He's FINE, he says!"

Tears were running down Poppy's face now, but she made no attempt to stop them. Minerva had seen her cry many, many times before. In fact, she'd cried most recently when she'd lost her favorite pair of slippers. It was hard, keeping it in all day for fear of frightening the students.

"And no one ever asks me how hard it is. No one ever talks about me. Plenty of people say "poor Remus", and goodness knows he deserves it, even if he doesn't want it. But no one even thinks about how hard it is for me—to help a child—with an incurable illness—that I can't do anything about! To watch him fight through unimaginable pain, to see him suffering, to watch him get feverish and pass out in the middle of a sentence and refuse to eat and drown his pain in books! He's just... in my office... for days, every single month... and I just have to go about my business, knowing that there's nothing I can do. There's no cure! He won't even let me help him before a full moon because potions and things irritate him on the full moon. There's nothing I can do! Think about it! I can't get over it!"

Minerva wordlessly handed Poppy a handkerchief, and Poppy blew her nose. "It's not just about him," Poppy said, calming down a little. "It's not just about me, either. It's just... it's something that made me realize how much darkness is in the world... how unfair things are... how people can suffer so much without deserving it. I knew, before. But I didn't really believe it... and now it's just all so overwhelming. There are so many hurting people in the world. Remus isn't even the only werewolf in Britain. And I can't help everyone. I'm confined to this school—this small school in a world full of billions of people—and I can't... even... help everyone... in the tiny school! I hate it."

Minerva spoke for the first time. "I know," she said, and stood up to embrace Poppy tightly. "I know." A minute later, she pulled away, and the front of her robes were wet from Poppy's tears. Poppy could sense helpful advice coming. "Do you want to know what I think?" Minerva asked quietly, and Poppy looked up at her with watery eyes.

"What?"

"We all have varying levels of pain. I think that all of us have a sort of pain that unimaginable to another. Such is life. We shouldn't dwell on the pain that we all inevitably have: instead, we should focus on the good things that we have. Remus Lupin is a... well, he's ill. But he has two wonderful parents who love him. His 'normal' is different from ours, but that doesn't mean he has a completely awful life. It's just a different kind of normal—a new normal."

Poppy nodded and sniffed a little.

"And he has three friends who accept him."

"We don't know that."

"For right now, they do. And he has plenty of intelligence and activities that he enjoys. And he plays outside with his friends—did you see his face at the last Quidditch match? Or on Halloween?"

"No, I was sitting with the Hufflepuffs. And the full moon wasn't until November second."

"I've never seen him so happy," Minerva assured her. "It isn't the dark that we should focus on, it's the light that cancels it out. With all people—everyone that you can't help. It's just life, Poppy. Just life. No matter how much we think about how awful things are, they won't change... but thinking about how wonderful things are can change our mindsets, at least."

Poppy granted her a watery smile. "Thank you. That helps."

"Of course it does. I'm a very helpful person, you know."

Poppy nodded, ever thankful. "Now that I've done my ranting," she said, feeling a lot better than she had been feeling mere minutes ago, "I'll give you some time to rant about Potter and Black."

"Oh, thank goodness." Minerva straightened up and immediately went off on a tirade about their shenanigans: disrespect, loud voices, lack of motivation, disregard for the rules... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Poppy had heard it all before.

"I think you like them," said Poppy slyly once Minerva had finished.

"What? No!"

"Oh no, you definitely like them. Potter is fantastic at Transfiguration, is he not? And flying? Both things that you're talented at, yourself."

"Well... maybe I do like them a little," admitted Minerva with a heavy sigh, "merely because they're Gryffindors through and through. Don't tell anyone."

Poppy hummed her consent and took a sip of tea. "So... that game you play with Remus that you mentioned earlier...? Tell me more."

Minerva laughed. She didn't laugh often around students, and Poppy loved to hear it. "I wasn't very comfortable around him at first; you know that. And he knew it too. He was obviously uncomfortable around me, too—things were awkward at first. Classes consisted of avoiding eye contact, mostly. It was distracting. So I told him that we'd play a game of sorts: whichever of us can act normally around the other first wins. We've been giving each other points. I'm winning."

"Not what he told Albus."

Minerva sipped her tea. "He's deluded."

"So... any reason why you aren't comfortable around werewolves? It seems a bit odd for you of all people to be afraid..."

"Not afraid!" protested Minerva. "Just uncomfortable. As you know, I'm half-blood, and my mother—a witch—took pride in her heritage. She told me stories of the wizarding world all the time—trying to bring me back to my roots, even though we lived in a Muggle village. I heard so many tales of werewolves being a danger to society, even from an early age. They're bogeymen, Poppy. The monsters under the beds. Children grow up with an innate fear of them... They ask their parents to check their closets for them before they go to sleep. Their parents tell them that that a werewolf will eat them if they get out of bed or disobey the rules. I was so afraid of werewolves as a child that I hated going outside at night. There's a fear instilled in young children, and it takes a while to shake off. That's all. It's not that I'm afraid of him—you know me, I'm a proud Gryffindor. I just don't like... the idea of it."

"Even though he's so small and harmless?"

"Yes. I'm not proud of it." Minerva finished off her tea. "But I can stand to be around him much more easily now. I like him, you know. Quiet, calm. The exact opposite of Potter and Black."

"Do you ever shut up about them?" Poppy teased.

"I'll shut up about them when you shut up about Remus. All you ever talk about these days."

"He's the only company I have these days!"

"Except when John Questus visits..." teased Minerva. She knew all about Poppy's hatred towards John Questus—he had, in fact, been the subject of Poppy's last after-hours rant.

"Ugh! Don't even talk about him. The horrible, insensitive..."

"Yes, I know. You've ranted about him to me before. I think you fancy him, don't you?"

"Who, John?" Poppy gagged. "That's too far. I'm going to bed now."

"You accused me of liking Potter and Black. I'm only returning the favor."

"It's not the same thing! I do not fancy John Questus!"

"Sweet dreams," called Minerva. "I'll plan the wedding."

"You're such a child!" snapped Poppy, opening the door to leave. "You sound like Potter."

Minerva feigned disgust. "You'd better leave before I hex you."

Poppy obliged, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary and heading back to the Hospital Wing to check on Remus.

Minerva, she reflected, was a wonderful friend, and she was glad that Remus had a few such friends of his own.

Everybody needed friends, didn't they?

AN: Another scene from my fanfic (link in blog description). I don’t think John Questus has ever made an appearance on my tumblr before, just because he’s an OC and hard to explain in short snapshots like this—but he’s my favorite character lol and I was waiting for a good moment to mention him!

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 1

-no hate (this is merely my humble opinion) but i strongly dislike tom hughes as tom riddle, and here’s why-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

Just personally, this fancast induces a lot of cognitive dissonance for me, but this is the first time I’ve been able to sit down and articulate properly why it always throws me for a loop.

Now, does he fit the visual/aesthetic archetype?

Yes. I understand completely why people like this fancast. We know that he is studious, intellectual, and (at the time people generally fancast him for) involved in the criminal underground, and he more-or-less fits the physical description.

And, to be clear, it’s not that I don’t think Tom Hughes could play Tom Riddle, it’s that I don’t think the character he plays in the fancasts is a close enough approximation of Tom Riddle.

For me, herein lies the issue.

Tom Riddle’s character is all about the emotions bubbling under the surface. He’s a disaster waiting to happen -- he’s angry, he’s lonely, he wants revenge, he feels empty and hopeless and desperate, he’s irrational...

Not sure what movie/show the Tom Hughes clips come from, but the character he plays isn’t that at all. the character he plays is very self-possessed, poised, self-aware. Reflective. Remorseful (there are clips of him crying when/after he shoots someone). Introspective. 

That, to me, is not Tom Riddle at all. 

Yes, he does deal with moral conflict, but it’s never at the forefront of his mind. It’s not something he’s constantly grappling with. He doesn’t really... brood in this Hamlet-esque way.

Tom doesn’t think. Sure, he plans, he ruminates, he rationalizes a posteriori. But he’s very unaware of himself (in fact, it’s one of his fatal flaws). It’s not that he doesn’t have emotions; just that his internal state is a mystery most of the time.

He doesn’t connect with his own emotions; he is completely estranged from them. Tom cannot tell you whether he is happy or sad (not just because of his pride). He keeps his emotions and moral compass (which are highly uncomfortable things), in a locked little box, swallows the key, and disregards them. And yet, this character connects so deeply with his emotions that even the audience can see exactly what he’s going through. 

(There’s an openness -- an ease of vulnerability -- that Tom Riddle doesn’t have)

The thing about Tom, is that he hates himself just as much as he hates everyone around him. Creating Horcruxes to save himself from death is not an act of self-love, or even narcissism to the extreme; instead, forcibly ripping your own soul seven times is the most literally and metaphorically self-destructive thing a person could possibly do.

"Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction —"

If we go all the way back to Book 1, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, you’ll remember that the eponymous material (first described in the Epic of Gilgamesh) is capable of producing the Elixir of Life, a magical substance that makes its drinker immortal, as long as you have a steady supply. Not only that, but according to the beliefs of historical alchemists (such as Nicholas Flamel), it was capable of curing any disease. In the alchemical tradition, it symbolized perfection, enlightenment, and heavenly bliss.

If all Tom Riddle was concerned about was prolonging his life, this is the obvious (and better) option.

Here’s the alchemical symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone. Looks kind of like the Deathly Hallows symbol, right? It represents the interplay of the (at the time, believed) four elements of matter -- a sort of periodic table, if you will.

The mature Philosopher’s Stone was believed to be a red stone (for making gold), and the immature one a white stone (for making silver). Rubeus Hagrid and Albus Dumbledore, anyone??

"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"

And Dumbledore responds:

"But there are several reasons why, I think, a Sorcerer's Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort.”

"While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain the immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependent on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable...”

And while, yes, he did try to steal it rather than make it, I am sure that in the time it took Tom to make all of his Horcruxes, he could have learned enough alchemy to produce it for himself (or wheedled the information out of Nicholas Flamel). While Dumbledore hypothesizes that it’s because Tom hates feeling dependent, this must be irony, because he spends the first book as a literal parasite, the next three as a virtually helpless creature, and the remainder still reliant on his Horcruxes.

"Well, you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

But, like me, Dumbledore is making guesses at Tom Riddle’s internal state, and in this case, I think, he’s made an oversight. Horcruxes make him equally as dependent as the Philosopher’s Stone would have. It’s been established in canon that you cannot make yourself immortal without help; either you rely on the continued existence of your Horcruxes or your supply of the Elixir.

And while the Elixir represents the positive aspects of eternal life, like renewal, rebirth, and the cyclical nature of the universe (see above the ouroboros of Cleopatra the Alchemist, one of the four women who knew how to make the philosopher's stone), a Horcrux is antithetical to life. It represents disorder, and once the creator of Horcruxes dies, they are unable to move on from Limbo -- shut out of the cycle. Harry describes Tom’s mangled soul as looking like a flayed and mutilated baby -- permanently immature and stagnant.

This theme of destruction is furthered by the Golden Trio’s discussion on how to reverse the process:

Ron: "Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?"

Hermione: "Yes, but it would be excruciatingly painful."

Harry: "Why? How do you do it?"

Hermione: "Remorse. You've got to really feel what you've done. There’s a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can’t see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"

With this in mind, we can surmise that Tom is either (a) impatient, which we know he is not (b) there was some deeper reason for favouring Horcruxes -- so, yes, I believe that either metaphorically or literally, this was self-harming behaviour.

He takes on the name of Lord Voldemort because he hates himself, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He hates the Muggle part of himself so much that he’s willing to tear apart his entire being. 

"Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."

If that isn’t renouncement of himself, I don’t know what is. He was clearly not born Voldemort.

While of course, this does NOT excuse ANY of his actions, I find it vastly implausible that the likes of Malfoy, Mulciber, Carrow, etc... would have been welcoming in any way, shape or form to an assumed ‘Mudblood’ in scruffy secondhand robes from a London orphanage, and as such, indoctrinated him into his fanatic belief in blood-purity via antagonizing him. 

(Imagine Hermione, but poor and without parents, in the 1930s/40s. She would not have been treated well in Slytherin, either.)

Children are more vicious than you think. And while Tom probably gave as good as he got at Wool’s Orphanage (and was possibly an active aggressor himself), Hogwarts wouldn’t have been a level playing-field. (I’ll talk a bit about this and the significance of the Gaunt Ring in Part 2).

In other terms, I think Tom was bullied for having dubious origins. That’s often the swiftest way to radicalize someone, and would have left Tom with a crippling sense of self-hatred that I don’t think he would have even picked up from the orphanage.

(And it’s possibly this early experience with relational aggression that results in his constant need to be on the offensive/defensive, distrust of others, and fear of vulnerability. To me, this is an archetypal response of someone who was a past victim of bullying.)

Why else would an extremely powerful half-blood subscribe so strongly to those beliefs? (Rather than discriminating via amount of raw power or something -- because what Tom is immensely proud of when Dumbledore meets him is his ability, not his parentage). But I digress.

Now, Tom Riddle is never, ever quietly menacing like this. The mask is either completely on or completely off. We never see this character angry. Tom Riddle, when the mask slips off, is fury incarnate. Anger is the one emotion he doesn’t find weak; the one emotion he’s completely and utterly honest with.

Besides, that brings me to my next point. Tom’s not quite so austere. In fact, he’s quite witty, and often quite pleased with himself.

Just look at the difference in their body language. Tom has much more fluidity (he’s circling Harry, the head-tilt, the eyebrows move and he smiles a bit) than the other character, who has so much tension. Yes, they’re both menacing, but in completely different ways. Tom is comfortable with his actions, no matter how shitty they are. This other guy doesn’t like doing what he’s doing, but he’s going to do it, anyway.

Contrasted with the above, Tom’s unawareness of himself is such that we end up with a character who has a bizarre mix of extreme self-hatred and high self-esteem -- he always believes he is in the right -- in this case, doing Salazar Slytherin’s noble work -- while going to extreme, self-destructive lengths, such as tearing himself in half at the mere age of sixteen.

So, sorry... I kind of get the appeal, but... I don’t like the fancast. 

(More unpopular opinions coming at 5:30 PM EDT tomorrow!)

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Amalia

For @artsymeeshee​. Thank you for everything you do for us, for providing plenty of fluff, over-protective Ford content, and angst with a happy fluffy ending. Love you!

~~~~~~~~~~

The snow reflected the tiny amount of sunlight the capital of Iceland received. Spring was coming, though still a ways off, but the large island still welcomed the sun that was starting to rise earlier every day and stay longer as February was coming to a close.

She opened her eyes as the sunlight reflected on the Sea and sparkled like magical dust. She stood proudly on her beam, her favorite Nest, and stretched her back and paws, letting her claws escape her tiny little beans, and then hide again, a secret weapon for any enemies, though she had few. Really, apart from some rude Cubs shooting tiny metal balls at her, the world was fairly kind to her. Big Animals in thick coats gave her Pets and occasionally Food, coming in big Machines and soon left. Some of the Machines made dark clouds, some looked like they were controlled by fluffy white clouds. She liked them all, and was Happy to make sure no Bad Machines or Bad Animals in thick coats came on her Land.

Sometimes, when things were quiet by the sea, she would go Exploring. Cubs would play with her, maybe a Bad Animal or two would try to hit her with a collection of straw at the end of a stick, but she was fast and agile and was never hurt too much. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Today she thought she might go Explore her Land, but something caught her attention. An Animal was standing on a Machine.

The fur on the top of it’s head was fluffy. She wanted to play with it. It had glass in front of it’s eyes, for whatever reason, and had a coat like her’s: thick and blue, but a darker shade, not light like snow, like her’s. She blinked at the Animal and watched it. It took in a deep breath, smiling, and a Hole opened on the side of the Machine and a Path appeared, sliding down onto her Land. “Come on, Stanley, we have a lot to do today!”

“What’s your rush, Sixer?” Another voice could be heard as the Animal left it’s Machine and a second Animal appeared. This one had something red on it’s head, though it didn’t appear injured, and it also had glass in front of it’s eyes. She didn’t want to be seen right now, so she hopped down from her favorite sleeping spot and hid behind some boxes. “We’ve got all day, and if you really wanna sight-see we can stay here tomorrow, too.”

“Yes, I suppose so, but then we’ll have to wait another day for Mabel’s package for us in Ullapool, Scotland.”

“Good point. But we can always visit this place again on our way back to Oregon.”

“Fair enough. Well, how about a quick walk and then we’ll restock on supplies.”

“S’long as we can stop at that bar tonight.”

“Deal.”

The two Animals smelled similar, but not identical. They were a Pack. A Herd. A Family. She watched them venture further into her Land, but she let them. They were Good. She could tell. She emerged from her hiding spot a little after they passed her and watched them go. She wanted to go with them, but she didn’t want to be caught. She would have to be sneaky.

She carefully walked behind the Animals with glass in front of their eyes and watched them. The Animals were a wonderful Pack. They talked and laughed and played, pushing every so often, playing like she used to with her brothers and sisters, and she smiled at knowing they were having fun and learning how to be good fighters. When the Animals were joining other Animals on busy parts of her Land, she climbed up the stone Dens and walked on the tall place to watch them and be close to them. She was good at being sneaky; they did not know she was there.

Sometimes the Animals would go inside the Dens. When this happened she would sit and wait for them to come out. Sometimes they came out with nothing new, other times they would come out with Gain in their holds. When they walked, she walked with them, either behind them or above them. Too soon the Sun was setting again, and she found the Animals going back to their Machine. She was Sad, but walked behind them at a safe distance and watched them enter their Machine.

Behind the boxes, she laid on her belly, resting her face in her paws, Sad that the Animals were going away. She liked them. But then she heard something that made her lift her head and her ears stop being droopy. She looked up at the Machine and found the Animals coming back! They had no Gains with them; they must have left them in their Machine, and decided to go out Exploring again! She watched from behind the boxes as the Animals walked into a Den not too far from the Sea, and she made a Plan.

She had been Sad when she thought the Animals were going away forever, like all the other Animals did. Very Sad. She never wanted to be that Sad again. She carefully sniffed the Path and decided that it was Safe, so she trotted on it, through the Hole, and was on a Machine.

She was a little bit Scared. She had never been on a Machine before, but she could smell her favorite Animals everywhere and could feel the Sea beneath her. She loved the Animals and the Sea, and she knew she was Safe. She decided it was time to go Exploring! This Land was big, but not too big, so it wasn’t Scary. She walked around and could smell more of her favorite Animals’ scent from inside the Machine, inside the Den. There was a Hole with a small opening, leaking out the smell and light, so she pushed the Hole open a little more and entered the Den.

The den was Warm and Safe and smelled of her favorite Animals whom she loved. There were tiny Suns here and there inside the Den. There was something big and Cozy in the Den, away from the Hole. She hopped onto it and pawed at it and rolled around it. It smelled like the Animals the most and she almost fell asleep, but she wanted to Explore some more. And she was hungry. Maybe the animals had Food in this Den.

She stood and sniffed. Something smelled Good. Smelled of Food. She followed the smell to something tall that held weird rectangles with black scribbles on them. There was a small container Animals used to hold Food. This was wet and black, but she lapped at it anyhow, but it was not Good. Not Bad, but not Good. Oh, well. She would find Food later. She wanted to Explore some more.

She hopped down from the tall place and smelled as she Explored. The Land went down at the farthest part from the Hole. It looked a little Scary, but she could still smell her favorite Animals, so she hopped, hopped, hopped down carefully. She was surprised to find two fluffy Nests inside this deep part of the Den. This must be where the Animals slept. She could tell; it smelled the most like them. She smiled and hopped up onto one and rolled around and played with the fluffy stuff. It was Fun and Cozy and Warm and Safe and Good.

She stopped to stretch and yawn. She was Tired. She decided to sleep here, but where? She needed her own Nest. At the end of one Nest, there was a box. She loved boxes, and this one had a tee tiny Hole that could be made into a bigger Hole. She hopped down and stretched her front paws and head into the Hole, pushing through it. The whole box was filled with Warm fluff that smelled of her favorite Animals. She was excited. Her own Nest was Warm and smelled like her favorite Animals! She slipped in, circled, and tucked herself in to go to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

After some tasty food and warm beer, the brothers returned to their home on the water, tired and ready for bed. It was very cold and bitter out in the night hair, but that only made the warm boat more welcoming and more appreciated. However, Ford was a little annoyed at finding the door cracked open, letting in cold air. “Stanley, I thought I told you to close the door all the way.”

“Sorry, Ma, I was hungry.” Stan said sarcastically and shrugged as they went inside.

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed and locked the door tightly. “Good thing I’ve almost perfected our security system so we won’t have to worry about being robbed.”

Stan rolled his eyes and yawned into his hand. “Welp, I’m beat. You coming to bed or do I gotta drag you there myself?” He asked, shrugging his trenchcoat off and throwing it on the couch on his way to the stairs downward for the bedroom.

“No, no, I’m coming.” Ford said tiredly and followed his brother down into their bedroom. “I’ll be taking a shower so if you want one you’ll have to wait.”

“Nah, I’ll take one in the morning.” Stan answered, peeling off his beanie and yawing again, ready to collapse into his warm bed and not move again until sunrise.

Ford moved to the far end of the bedroom, where the bathroom was located, and turned on the shower so the water could warm up. Meanwhile Stan groaned, seeing how Ford had done laundry that morning and now his twin had to pull the warm extra blankets and quilts out from the chest at the foot of his bed.

Stan opened it groggily, not expecting to stare down at the context for a full minute until he was capable of speech, but here he was.

“Uh… Sixer?”

“Yes, Stanley.”

“We have an expected guest on board.”

Ford stopped unzipping his blue hoodie and joined his brother at the chest, who’s eyebrow was raised in unapproval. The aged scientist, however, was stuck with a blank facial expression while he tried to digest the fact that there was an animal curled up on top of the stack of blankets and quilts.

It looked like a cat, though it was unfair to call her a cat. Passersby may assume so without a second glance, but this creature appeared too abnormal to be a kitten. She had pointy ears coated in thick fur to keep out cold hair, light-blue fur that could blend into snow, a tiny button black nose between huge, round, baby-blue eyes, a small floof of fur on the top of her head, and a skinny tail with fluff for fur at the end. It appeared so small and helpless in the mess of blankets, looking up at the brothers with shiny eyes filled with wonder. After a moment of silence, Ford grinned and placed his hands on his knees to be closer to the anomaly without frightening it, and he spoke to her with a voice as quiet as a mouse and soft as silk.

“Hello. Where did you come from, my dear?”

“Dunno, don’t care.” Stan moved towards her and said, “I’ll put her back outside.”

Ford’s senses heightened and he gently grabbed his brother’s wrist to stop him. “Hold it, Stanley, there’s no reason to kick her out so quickly. She’s not doing any harm.” Ford returned his smile to the anomaly and cooed softly as he reached for her and let her sniff his six-fingered hand. “Come here, little one, it’s alright.”

The anomaly happily sniffed Ford’s hand and rubbed the side of her head onto his palm, begging for pets, which he happily gave. The eldest twin carefully scooped her up into his harms and scratched her, finding her favorite spot, until she was practically putty in his hold as he scratched her under her chin. 

Stan stared in disbelief and snorted. “Are you kidding me? You spent most of your life around dangerous monsters and you’re gonna let one on our boat?”

“She’s not a monster.” He scolded lightly and smiled again as she purred against his chest. He held her out to him to see better and added cheerfully, “Look how cute she is, Stan!”

“Yeah, until it decides to eat our face!” Stan argued, a hand up in defense.

“She won’t hurt us.” Ford said firmly and held her close to his chest again, letting her lay on her back so her four little limbs were up and trying to catch his wiggling fingers. “I bet she was cold and hungry and was trying to find shelter. Isn’t that wight, wittle one?” He cooed in a low voice. “Who’s a hun-gy wittle anomaly? Are you, are you?”

“Don’t feed it!” Stan yelled after his brother as he went upstairs. “Then it’ll want to stay!”

“Great idea, we’ll feed her so she’ll want to stay!”

“That is NOT what I said!”

Ford rolled his eyes and laughed down at the anomaly when she caught his fingers and licked him with a rough tongue. She wasn’t even trying to hurt him. She was playing and happy to give his hand a little bath. “Don’t worry, my dear. Stanley is right about one thing: I’ve met many aliens and monsters and anomalies in my day, but I can tell when one has nefarious purposes and when one does not, and you don’t. You’re a good little girl; I can tell.”

One handed so he could still cradle her, Ford opened the freshly filled cabinets to hunt for something the strange animal would eat. “Hm, let’s take a look at your teeth.” He gently pulled down her mouth and as surprised how little she fidgeted and fought him. “Interesting. Only half of your teeth are carnivorous. You must be able to adapt to plants or berries if needed. Very well, let’s see… oh, here. You’re lucky Stan talked me into picking up tuna.”

At the time it seemed ridiculous to buy canned tuna when they could fish for dinner whenever they wanted, but Stan said they should still get it because canned goods never expired and fishing wasn’t always successful, so Ford opened the can and placed it on the table and sat the anomaly down while he tidied up a bit, stacking his notes and books and putting his cold coffee in the sink. From the sounds of it, Stan had hopped in the shower since Ford was apparently too busy playing host to bathe, which was fine by him. He sat in a chair, watching how the anomaly ate.

She was definitely not skin-and-bones, but she ate quickly, plunging her face into the can and eating happily. Ford chuckled and pet down her back. She was fairly clean, if not a little weather-beaten. Clearly she could take care of herself, but why should she when he could? Okay, sure, Stanley was a little apprehensive about taking in a strange anomaly as a pet, and perhaps Ford shouldn’t be so quick to take her in as a pet. She might not be happy cooped up in a boat with two old men. In fact, if she lived on this dock, she might do this often, visiting sailors for food and shelter and then leaving in the morning. 

“Well, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” Ford said to her as he watched her eat. “But if you want to stay, you’re more than welcome to.”

The fluffy anomaly sat up and looked at him with kind eyes. Ford smiled at her, and could have sworn she returned with a tiny smile. He slowly reached for his journal, a green book with a golden six-fingered hand and a crescent on the cover, and opened it carefully so as to not scare her. The anomaly sat perfectly still, watching him, as he turned to a clean page and pulled out a pen to begin sketching her. He titled his head to the side to get a better angle of her, and he stared to find her doing the same, mirroring him.

Ford smiled and titled his head the other way, and sure enough the little one followed his lead. Chuckling, he decided to push his luck and he straightened his head and stuck his tongue out at her just a little bit. The anomaly stared at him, and sure enough, a tiny pink tongue poked out at him. Ford snorted, bit his lip, and continued sketching. He noticed her tail was wagging, like a dog’s might when happy, and he added that to his notes. He had no idea what to call this species, so he left the title blank for now, deciding he would come up with a species title once he had more information. 

They must have been at that table for an hour or so, because soon Stan’s rough voice called from the bedroom sharply, “Sixer, if you’re not down here in two minutes…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Ford called back and grinned as the little anomaly yawned, making the tiny tongue stretch out and curl inwards slightly. The old man carefully pick her up and carried her with him into his shared bedroom. Stan was in his undershirt and boxers, shaking his hair dry with a towel as he sat on his bed, and he growled when he saw the animal still in his twin’s arms.

“Please tell me you’re not taking it to bed.” He snarled.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.”

“She deserved her own space.” Ford said as he pulled a pink blanket out from the chest and placed it neatly, still folded, on the floor between the beds. “She can have her own bed.”

“What!?” Stan yelled as Ford got on his knees and let the anomaly climb down onto the blanket to give it a try. “I’m not letting that thing sleep in here! What if it turns into some blood-sucking monster in it’s sleep and kills us both?!”

“That won’t happen, don’t be so paranoid.”

“Oh ho! That’s a new one!” Stan laughed harshly, but quickly turned sour again. “Can’t believe you're not a bit more guarded with that thing? What makes you think you can trust it?!”

Ford shrugged. “A lot of people lately have proven to me that I can trust others. Besides, there’s good in her. I can tell.”

Stan blinked at his brother. It was like this was a completely different man than who had come out of the portal. Well, okay, Ford knew that before they had even started sailing that Ford wasn’t the same person he was when he punched Stan in the face, but still. Stanford Pines really had changed a lot.

“It’s just for one night, Stanley.” Ford eased as he took off his hoodie and slipped off his boots, preparing for bed. “She’ll leave in the morning and find some new friends to provide food and shelter from the next cold night, I’m sure of it.”

Stan rolled his eyes and laid down with his back to the fluffy pair. “Fine, whatever.”

Ford had to admit that he was a little chest-fallen that his brother was a little cold towards their temporary house-guest, but he can recall their niece telling Ford that Stanley appeared to have a burning hatred for a certain pig, but everyone knew he loved Waddles very much. Perhaps he was trying to prove he was still a tough guy, or perhaps Stanley didn’t want to get attached to the anomaly so he wouldn’t be disheartened when she was gone. Ford knew he could handle her leaving tomorrow if she wanted to, he would be happy to have met her and that she was happy, so with one final scratch between her ears, ruffling her little floof, Ford took off his glasses and turned off the lantern, letting darkness overtake the bedroom.

“Goodnight, Stanley.”

“G’night, Sixer.” The younger twin managed to grunt.

Ford smiled, relieved that at least his brother wasn’t angry at him, and he slept soundly as the warm boat kept the cold late-winter air away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was the first one to wake up. Or at least the first one to rise out of their bed. He slipped on his glasses and was happy to find the little anomaly where he had left her last night: curled up like a kitten on her folded blanket. He took the time to scratch her behind her ears before heading towards the shower.

The aged explorer could understand why Mabel was so attached to her pet pig, Waddles. There was immense satisfaction in caring for something or someone and having them care for you in return. While that is the fundamental basics of human relationships, homo sapiens tend to over complicate such relationships with intense emotions and lack of logic. Other species, like most animals on Earth, allowed this principle to be basic and easy, simple. Give love, get love.

Throughout the years, Ford had indeed come across hundreds of thousands of different creatures. True, a vast majority wanted to eat his face, but to be fair he had been in their climate and they were hungry. That was the beautiful circle of life. Some creatures were perfectly friendly and could even offer some companionship, but none of the creatures Ford had met would stay for long and he knew better than to get too attached; he was too busy trying to take care of himself to add a pet to his list of responsibilities. However, if an animal who enjoyed his company wanted to walk with him in the forest or up a mountain, he wouldn’t stop it or go out of his way to scare it off, knowing full well something else would capture it’s attention or Ford would have to hop through a hole in space-time and the animal would run off, less inclined to follow the kind stranger to an alien world.

Still, a small part of Ford had missed the idea of having a pet. He can remember enjoying Shanklin’s company as a child and being very sad when he had died, though not nearly as heartbroken as Stanley had been. When he had discovered the Shapeshifter as a hatchling, there was a reason he had quickly associated it as a pet, despite Fiddleford’s arguments against it. Perhaps if the encounter hadn’t ended so ugly or if he hadn't been so distracted with Bill and the portal, Ford might have taken in a pet to give him company when it was time for Fiddleford to return home. Maybe a low-maintenance cat or something unique and different. Maybe he would take in a plaidypus. He had enjoyed that anomaly’s company.

As the warm water made it easy for the old sailor to think, he seriously considered adopting the new anomaly as his pet. He knew that Stanley would warm up to her eventually, he just needed time to trust that she wouldn’t go savage on them. Really, there was no real issue or obstacle in his way. They were financially stable, so they could afford to take care of her, there were no other pets that might get jealous of her, they would always be around her so she would never be neglected or abandoned on the boat. Really, the only obstacle Ford could see was that the anomaly might not want to stay.

If Ford had learned anything about wildlife is that animals pick the humans just as much as humans pick the animals. There must be a mutual agreement to love and care for each other in their own unique way, but if one if not willing or incapable of returning the affection, then the arrangement wouldn’t work. There was a large possibility that the anomaly was perfectly happy being a peaceful stray and didn’t want to be tied down to one boat and one pair of sailors, which was perfectly fine. Like Ford had said last night, if she wanted to leave, that was okay. But if she wanted to stay Ford would be nothing short of delighted.

As Ford emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a towel in his hand, shaking his fluffy charcoal gray hair dry, he found the sweet anomaly on his bed, playing with his blankets, rolling around and pawing at the soft fabric. He smiled and hung up the towel in his hand as he approached the anomaly, who stopped playing to receive pets and lick his six fingers.

“Good morning, my dear. Sleep well?” He whispered, knowing full well she couldn’t respond, but she looked so happy and well rested, even her fur appeared to host some bed-head. Ford glanced over at his twin, who was still fast asleep, limbs sprawled everywhere and snoring peacefully with his mouth wide open. He grinned, having an idea, and he gently picked the anomaly up from his bed and placed her on Stan’s bed, just by his legs.

As Ford got dressed for the day, he watched as the anomaly pawed at the blankets and then walked up to Stan’s face, then sat and watched him for a moment. Ford had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when the anomaly lifted a soft beanie paw and gently smacked Stan’s nose, playing like she had found a ball. By the time Ford was fully dressed the anomaly had climbed up to Stan’s chest and sat close to his face, happy to only watch him sleep.

The sudden weight on his chest stirred him and Stan groggily opened his eyes and was shocked to find two large baby-blue eyes staring closely at him. “ARG!” He yelled and sat up quickly, making the anomaly jump down from the bed and hide under the bed.

Ford laughed good-naturedly while Stan growled in his throat and put on his glasses. “Ford!”

“Good morning, Stanley.”

“What is that thing still doing here, I thought she was only staying just for the night!”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll leave once we leave.” Ford reasoned as the anomaly slowly crept out from under the bed and rubbed herself against Ford’s legs.

Stan grunted, not sure if he should believe his wishy-washy brother, but it was too early to fight this battle, so he yawned and popped his back and made his way upstairs to make coffee.

The anomaly followed Ford everywhere he went. When he went upstairs, so did she. When Ford sat at the table, she hopped onto it. He smiled and got up for a second, seeing how she turned her nose at his coffee, and he poured her a small plate of milk. She happily lapped it up while the twins sipped their coffee and went over their plans for the day, one purposely ignoring her and the other occasionally petting her or scratching her behind the ear.

About an hour later Stan and Ford were ready to leave for some sightseeing while at Iceland’s capital. The anomaly followed them out of the cabin of the boat and hopped on the wall of the Stan O’ War II and watched them walk away. Ford even waved her goodbye, not sure if this would be the last time he would ever see her or not. Again, it was totally fine if she decided to leave. But the fact remained that Ford would be immensely grateful if he found her still on their boat when they returned.

Stan privately decided that it was best to get his brother’s mind off that little menace, so hopefully when they left the dock and set sail tomorrow morning they could leave this whole ordeal behind them. The two brothers had a good time cracking jokes and laughing as they visited historical sights, museums, and other amazing things the capital had to offer about their culture and history. For lunch they sat at the park with warm sandwiches and listened to a street performer sing and beat a drum about a mountain troll wanting to get married.

Having seen everything they had wanted to see, Ford and Stan decided to head to the Stan O’ War early and leave the docks before dinner. Ford was a little disheartened to find the anomaly no longer on the wall of the Stan O’ War, which again, was fine. She was a wild animal and could do whatever she wanted. And no, Ford was not upset over the fact that she wanted to move on.

So why on Earth was he so jubilant, could feel his heart do a cartwheel of joy in his chest, why he grinned so happily, at the sight of her on one of the lounge chairs, bathing in the sunshine and only awoke because she sensed someone’s presence and she smiled up at him and went to rub against his legs again.

Ford picked her up and held her close to his chest, alone with her since Stan had gone inside to start on dinner and probably didn’t even know she was here. The old scientist sat in the lounge chair and petted his new pet softly, making her purr against his hold.

“You’ll need a proper name, my dear.” Ford thought out-loud. To help decide which best suited her, he listed some names out to see if they sounded right for her. “Luna? Ivy? Amber? Periwinkle? Maybe something more sophisticated, like Alessandra? Stella?” Ford tilted his head to the side as they looked at each other. She coped him curiously.

He chuckled and rubbed her head. “You are a strange anomaly. Hm… while Anomaly isn’t a suitable name, maybe something along those lines. Maybe… Molly? No, close, but you don’t quite look like a Molly, my dear. How about…” And then suddenly, he had it. Ford knew what to call her. It was perfect. It was unique, just like her. Ford smiled peacefully at her and settled with, “Amalia. I’ll call you Amalia from now on.”

“Alright, Sixer, we ready to set… oh, great.” Stan stopped when he saw who Ford was with and he glared at the strange anomaly.

“Say hello to Amalia, Stanley.” Ford said happily and held her up to him to see. She poked her little tongue out at him.

Stan glared at his brother. “Amalia? You named it?!”

“Yes. So? Is there a problem?” Ford asked with a raised eyebrow, bringing Amalia back to his lap, a little tired of Stan’s cold attitude.

“Stanford, you’re not supposed to name it.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Once you name it, you start getting attached to it! Now get it off the boat, we’re leaving now.”

Ford looked down at Amalia, who was curled up in his arms, and then back up at his brother firmly. He hated to push him, but this was important to him and he genuinely felt like Stan was being unfair. “No.”

Stan blinked at his twin. “I’m sorry?”

“No,” Ford said calmly. “Stanley, please. I think she wants to stay, and I want her to stay. Yes, she is probably a wild animal and can take care of herself, but she shouldn’t have to. Why should she when she could have a loving family who takes care of her? I know you’re a little apprehensive that she’ll turn on us, but as my brother I’m asking that you trust me and let me keep her. Please.”

Stan stared, no longer visibly angry. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ford. He did, more than anyone, and if someone who used to not trust anyone found this little ankle biter worthy of his hard-earned trust, then Stan had to give that little fur-ball some credit. Not to mention that Stan could remember a time when the tables were turned and someone had agreed to help keep a certain possum a secret. At the memory Stan couldn’t help but smile. 

He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and admitted defeat. “Fine, she can stay. But she’s your pet, which means you feed her and clean up after her, you keep her out of my stuff, and if one day we wake up missing a finger or an eye, I’m blaming you.”

Ford grinned; he could see right through Stan’s tough-guy persona. “Thank you, Stanley. You won’t regret it.” He stood and hurried off the boat. “I’ll go buy some supplies for her before we leave! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan muttered, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how happy his brother had looked when given permission to keep that little gremlin. Stan hadn’t seen Sixer that happy since they first began their adventure.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford couldn’t find a pet store within close range, but he did find a convenient store that might have the bare minimum he was looking for. Cans of meat, maybe a soft bed, toys, a brush, etc. Though there was no sign saying “No Pets Allowed,” Ford wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t allowed to bring Amalia inside with him, so he decided to play it safe and hide her in his hoodie.

At first she was tucked in by his chest, her tiny claws clinging to his sweater with no pain to his skin, but Amalia soon climbed up his neck and he had to put his hood up to hide her. She made her way up the right side of Ford’s neck, curling around the back of his head, and resting her front half by his left shoulder, giving Ford a small, furry scarf around the back of his neck, and curling up for another short nap.

And no, Ford was not crying next to the shelves of cat litter.

pt.2

[gellavonhamster]

cold weapons

Suicide Squad (2016) || Captain Boomerang/Katana || post-canon

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.  

“So, what do you think of them?” Colonel Flag asks.

Tatsu puts the folder containing the rap sheet of Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, on top of three other folders.

“They’re complicated,” she replies after giving it some thought.

The materials in these folders could have formed her first impression about the members of Task Force X – or, as Lawton has aptly put it, the Suicide Squad. Could have, but did not, because they were given their first task earlier than expected. Which is why she doesn’t say “villains” or “scoundrels” or “worst team imaginable” – her first impression of them was formed in combat, and then in an empty bar in Midway City where they all drank together thinking it may be the last drink in their lives. She remembers all of this and says ‘complicated’.  

“Very tactful of you,” the colonel chuckles. Then again, what kind of colonel is he now – an unwashed shirt, black circles under the eyes. Just another guy struggling with a deluge of work, a hard-hearted boss, and a troubled relationship with his girlfriend. “But yeah, they definitely aren’t simple,” continues Rick Flag, one of her few friends in the country that will never become her home, and Tatsu cannot suppress a tired smile.  

“You like them.”

“They’re… tolerable,” Rick admits, and takes another sip of coffee. Lately he seems to be living only on coffee and whiskey and the verb “must” and (so Tatsu supposes, although they don’t talk about that) the hope that June Moone, who still hasn’t fully recovered from all the horrors she’s been through, will be all right – and will stop isolating herself and avoiding him. These means for not letting yourself just fall down and never get up are far from being reliable, but Tatsu herself lives mostly on revenge and duty and, for that matter, whiskey as well, to a certain degree, so it’s not for her to judge. “Most of them, at least. All of them minus the Australian.”

“At least he’s a good fighter,” Tatsu points out. This is the only good thing she can say about Captain Boomerang with full confidence.  

“He’s not cut out for teamwork.”

“When we were fighting the Enchantress, it didn’t look to me like that.”

She does not put much meaning into these words. It’s just that at some point Captain Boomerang saved her, and she saved him – and good thing they’re even, because the last thing she needs is to owe a favour to someone so incompatible with the very concept of duty. She could have said much about the man who tried to escape at the very beginning of the mission and got a teammate killed (and for some reason stood up for El Diablo when Harley Quinn lashed out at him at the bar, and for some reason came back before the battle after trying to desert), but the only thing she’s sure of is that he’s a fine weapon; she can confirm that, being a weapon herself. At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from him.      

At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from her, too.

 ***

 It is possible that what she said about Digger Harkness sticks in Rick’s memory, because when the need to comb the area arises during the next mission, he sends the two of them to search through the same building.

“If he gets up to something, do whatever you want to him. No one’s gonna weep for him,” he flings off. This is in the heat of the moment, of course – Boomerang almost got into a fight with Killer Croc on the helicopter over some nonsense. Or rather, it was Croc that almost got into a fight with Boomerang after the latter provoked him. Complicated.  

“You heard that, darl?” Boomerang addresses her with a smile so wide as if he hasn’t heard the last remark. “I’m all yours.”

Tatsu looks the other way and pointedly takes her sword out of its sheath – not completely, just a little. No further comments follow, and they part company – Deadshot with Croc, Flag with his team of spec ops, Tatsu with Boomerang – and go on a recce.  

In the basement, they discover something that looks like a laboratory – if a place so far from being sanitary may even be called one. All their hopes to move without making a sound crumble as soon as they enter the room: the floor is covered with broken glass. Those who ran the place must have escaped in haste and couldn’t take the entire stock of the serum with them, so they opted to destroy most of it. Tatsu’s attention is immediately drawn to the object on the table in the middle of the room – a metal container with tubes going from it to several smaller vessels. She heads straight for the table, shards crunching underfoot. Boomerang follows her, apparently kicking the largest shards on purpose so that they fly in all directions.      

“Looks like a hooch still,” he comments, having come closer, and gives a whistle. “Whoa, fuck, is that blood?”

Compared to the first task of their squad, this one looks almost effortless. Two gangs, the members of one of which possess the formula of the serum that grants superpowers to those who take it. A gun battle, collateral damage, the entire district on lockdown. If a few people weren’t noticed literally floating through the sky, the police would have been handling this. But this is an emergency, which is why they’re here, and the flying gangsters aren’t flying anymore, for Lawton is an exceptionally good shot.    

As it turns out, the serum that sparked the conflict is based on metahuman blood – hardly donated voluntarily.

“I’ll contact Colonel Flag,” says Tatsu, eyes locked on the bloodied tubes, and then someone grabs her by the neck.

For the first time in her life, she really has to fight blindly – because her enemy is invisible.  

Later, when the dead bodies gradually become visible on the floor like an eerie animated movie, it turns out there were four of them. Before that, Tatsu manages to lose her sword, recapture it, almost choke when an invisible hand squeezes her neck, slash one of the attackers in half, and plunge the blade into another’s stomach. Boomerang takes care of the other two, knocking over the container in the process.    

Tatsu is listening to the silence that came after the fight, wondering if any other invisible foes are lurking around the corner, when she feels that something is wrong. Something is wrong with her – she just can't figure out what. Sometimes it happens that one feels unwell but cannot determine what exactly the problem is – she is experiencing something similar now. Until she realizes: the mask. Until she looks up and makes eye contact with Captain Boomerang, who is staring at her and grinning.  

“You lost anything, doll?” Harkness inquires innocently, with an emphasis on the last word, and his smile grows even wider and cockier.  

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The invisible man she fought hand to hand tore off her mask, and she didn’t even notice. But her partner, blast him, did – and picked it up.  

“Give it back,” Tatsu demands, hand outstretched. She feels naked. In combat, during the mission, she is Katana, a single whole with her sword. A cold weapon. No one needs to see her face. Truly, if she was wearing only the mask and nothing else, she would have felt less exposed – all right, this is an overstatement, and she doesn’t even want to imagine such a situation. Meanwhile, Boomerang is in no hurry to return the mask.      

“What did ya call me when that fucker was about to stab me?” he asks. Tatsu clenches the sword hilt. There is no telling how many enemies drunk on the magic serum are hiding in this house, and he’s dawdling. “You said…”

Damn it, what did she say? She saw one of the invisibles creeping up on him while he was fighting another – a bloodstain was floating through the air. She shouted…

“I said ‘George’”. Isn’t your name George Harkness?”

“You bet it is. It’s just weird. Most people don’t call me George, y’know.”  

“How do they call you then?”

“Digger. Boomerang. Boomer. That Prick. All sorts of things, but never George. But you,” he winks, “can call me whatever ya want. I liked the way you say my name.”

“Give. Me. The mask.”

“And the magic word?”

“I will chop your hand off,” as a proof of her intentions, she puts the blade against his extended hand that is holding her mask. In fact, she would face no consequences for doing so. No one’s gonna weep for him.      

Harkness makes a helpless gesture and hands her the mask.

“Can’t say no to you, luv.”

The mask helps her conceal her identity, but what is more important is that it helps her conceal needless emotions. Tatsu really hopes that her facial expression isn’t giving away that she’s ill at ease now. This is a weakness; weaknesses are not to be demonstrated. She feels deeply relieved when she puts the mask back on.  

“Let’s get out of here,” she commands, turns around, and heads for the exit. Harkness trails behind.

“It ain’t fair, by the way. You know my real name, but I don’t know yours,” he muses. “Care to introduce yourself, eh?”  

He asks the same question at least three times more before they return to Belle Reve, and each time she ignores him.

 ***

 A week later, he still doesn’t know her name – but he learns something else.

They do away with the last members of the recent gang on the outskirts of the city. Both wretches have overused the unfortunate serum, in keeping with the best traditions of the clichéd movies about superheroes and supervillains that Hollywood keeps producing for some reason, even though it is more and more often possible to see nearly the same thing on the news. As a result, one of them got puffed up almost to the size of the creature that Superman died fighting, and the other couldn’t control the flames bursting from his mouth. He burned half of the shopping centre with customers, retail workers, and guards. With teenagers in the bowling alley on the second floor and children in the playroom on the first.    

Santana… wouldn’t have approved.

Both problems eliminated, they leave: the firefighters and the cops will take it from here. Flag’s spec ops stay behind, because officially it is their victory; the general public shouldn’t know about the existence of Task Force X. Through backyards, they retreat in the direction of the abandoned construction site on the other side of the street; a car has been sent to pick them up there.  

There is a workers’ trailer still standing by the construction pit. The door is not locked, and Rick, Deadshot, Croc, and Boomerang go inside. Jones’s arm is broken: his inhuman strength notwithstanding, he still was no match for his enemy – not the fire-breather, but the other one. Tatsu leaves them to figure out how to make a temporary sling, and wanders away. Not far from the trailer, a piece of tarpaulin stretched over the fence has come off, and she can see the building across the street. Tatsu sits down on the ground, puts her arms around her knees, and stares at the dandelions growing by the fence.  

In her head, flames are raging.

She doesn’t look up, neither when she hears the footsteps approaching, nor when Harkness – and it is him, no one else in the Squad reeks of the mixture of booze and cologne like that – sits down next to her and cracks open a can of beer.  

“You want some?” he nudges her. What extraordinary generosity. It is, however, perfectly possible that if she says yes, he’ll reply along the lines of “Well, then go and buy yourself some.”  

“No,” Tatsu replies without looking and, after a short pause, adds, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sigh, she accepts the can from his hands, and takes a sip.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers, and takes another.  

Harkness just snorts and opens another one. For a little while, they sit side by side in silence, drinking each from their own can, and study the wall opposite through the mesh of the fence – like out of a prison window. Old advertisements that are half torn off, graffiti, a writing proclaiming that life fucks us all – plenty of things to stare at to avoid looking the person next to you in the eye.  

“So what the hell happened to ya?” Boomerang asks, and suddenly she could do with some serum for invisibility or, better yet, disappearing completely. Naturally, it is a fleeting impulse; she has no right to disappear. She has obligations – towards Flag, towards Waller. Towards herself.    

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You zoned out, Flag shouted himself hoarse before you heard him. Like you were someplace else. Didn’t ya?”  

Why do you need to know? Tatsu thinks. If she almost rushed headlong into the fire, it’s her own business. If it only seemed to her that someone was there, it’s her own business. If she’s going to see things that aren’t there for the rest of her life, it’s her own business. He shouldn't have spoken. There is something comforting about being silent together.    

“Nah, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna,” Boomerang assents, and takes another pull on his can. “I just thought that you, well. Might wanna talk to someone.”  

And they fall silent again. Yet now Tatsu feels awkward, which makes her angry at herself. She’s not obliged to pour out her heart to anyone who shows something that looks like care.    

This silence doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have… bad memories,” she finally says. Now it won’t be as awkward: she answered his question. It won’t be, right? “About a fire”.

Harkness nods, looking at her attentively.

“Someone you knew died, aye?”

“My children,” she hears herself say, and wishes to disappear again.

“Fuck,” Boomerang says, embarrassed, and – unbelievable – looks like he actually feels bad about starting this conversation. “I’m sorry, I… well, uh, I had no idea.”  

“It’s okay,” Tatsu says mechanically. Nothing is okay: she can still see Yuki’s tear-stained face, still hear Reiko’s voice, she is still watching the flames run up the curtains that she and Maseo picked together, she is still breathing in the smoke and still cannot believe she deserves a gulp of fresh air. She should have saved them. All of them.  

Boomerang looks at her incredulously but doesn’t say anything, and bit by bit, the silence that she doesn’t want to run from returns – the kind of silence in which one is not alone.    

Then there are footsteps again, and Flag approaches them.

“There you are,” he says with relief as soon as he sees her. Rick does not let himself overstep the limits of formality – they’re on a mission, after all – but he has obviously been worried. At the sight of Harkness, he frowns warily. “You! Quit getting on her nerves.”

“Who’s gettin’ on her nerves, Colonel? I was just tryin’ to help,” Harkness protests. It appears Rick’s words have wounded him a little.  

“He was,” Tatsu says. “It’s all under control, Colonel Flag.”  

Flag shifts his gaze to her and then to Boomerang again, and nods.

“Okay. In any case… follow me. We’re leaving.”

Tatsu gives her unfinished beer to Boomerang.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone,” she tells him. This might be an order or a request; she doesn’t really know.

He nods, and she thinks absentmindedly: who would have thought this man knows how to make a solemn face.

“Thank you,” she says again, hoping that he understands that this is not just about the beer or his promise to keep his mouth shut.

***

 After a few days, Tatsu comes to visit him. In prison.

Actually, she comes to visit all of them, of course. Not more than fifteen minutes alone with each of them – Waller wouldn’t allow more. This request seems to have surprised her, but Tatsu is certain that Waller is already picturing the new threads she can use to manipulate her special operations puppets. So it is possible that one day this decision will blow up in Tatsu’s face – or in the faces of all of them. But she cannot shake off the feeling that she must do this – so that someone except Rick, who is already dealing with a lot these days, would notice in time if the inmates are treated with undeserved cruelty. So that she knows what’s on their minds, because it is safer to fight side by side with the people whose line of thought she can understand at least roughly. So that there is some kind of variety in their lives between the missions.  

This is why she visits all three of them. Killer Croc, who looks like he’s not surprised to see her in the slightest and doesn’t really seems to care that she came, but doesn’t have any issue with that either. Deadshot, who looks like he is surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind answering her questions when she notices a stack of letters in the corner and asks him how his daughter is doing. And Captain Boomerang, who, when she enters his cell, looks like he can’t figure out if he’s dreaming.

“Katana?” he frowns perplexedly. He’s stripped to his waist, so she can see a couple of fresh scars he brought back from the last mission, and he’s got a black eye – when Tatsu saw him last, he had not. Must have quarrelled with the guards again. “What are you doing here?”  

“I came to see you.”

For a moment he seems not to understand what she just said. Then he breaks into a smile – or rather a grin, wide and pleased. Very pleased.  

“Aha! Knew it would end up like this,” he pronounces in triumph.

“Like this?”

“You,” he looks like he’s just proven a theorem of immense complexity, “missed me.”  

“I haven’t missed you, Captain.”

A very, very pleased grin.

“And still you’re here.”

“I visited Deadshot and Killer Croc earlier,” Tatsu says, and sees his facial expression change instantly. Not for long: the grin is quick to return, and she wouldn’t be able to tell right away that he’s disappointed.    

“Did ya now? And how are our fellas doing? Better than me, I reckon?”

“So it would seem. Did you fight the guards?”

“Why do you care, gorgeous?”

Indeed, why does she? Most likely, he picked a fight himself – and got his just deserts.  

“Make up your mind,” Tatsu says, “if you think that I missed you or that I don’t care.”

Harkness chuckles and really seems to ponder over this for a while.

“Beats me,” he concludes at last. “Care to throw some light on it?”  

No, Tatsu thinks, I don’t get it myself and I’m not sure I want to.

Instead of answering, she comes closer to him – so close that she can smell his sweat – and studies his face. She has to look up to be able to do that, which must look comical. Then again, he’s hardly stupid enough to laugh at her height or anything else about her, especially when she’s armed and he is not.  

“You lost a tooth. What happened?”

“Didn’t get along with one of the Wall’s watchdogs.”

“You could have tried not to look for trouble for a change,” all of a sudden, Tatsu realizes that she’s mad. Really mad at him. They might get dragged to another mission this instant; whether they like it or not, they have to be in good enough shape to protect the society that the most of them have to atone before at least partially. They shouldn’t spend their energy and health on nonsense. Black eyes and knocked-out teeth are nothing, but it mustn’t come to any of them being out of action when all of them are needed. All their powers, all their skills. All the anger they should rather aim at something other than the people who can just press a certain button at any point – and dispose of the wilful weapon.

Boomerang bares his teeth – not like Croc, of course, but still threateningly. He looks dangerous now – big, sturdy, more than a head taller than her. But he still isn’t more dangerous than her – and both of them are aware of that.  

“And they could have tried,” he speaks through his teeth, “not to talk shit about my mother for a change. They wanna talk shit about me, they can knock themselves out. I’ve heard enough ‘bout myself, I don’t give a flying fuck about what else they gonna say. But they’d better leave my mother out of it.”

So that’s what it is. They have found a quick and easy way to infuriate the man who has “MUM” tattooed on his chest. In uneven letters, like a child's handwriting. Tatsu noticed that tattoo as soon as she came in but didn’t look too closely at it. Now she feels like she has the right to look, to let her gaze slip lower, at the ridiculous writing that heaves with each furious breath of his, and then to avert her eyes at once.    

“They have power, and you have nothing,” she says. “Do you enjoy being their plaything?”

“Oh, so I’m a plaything, darl? And do I have much choice who to be now? In these four walls, and,” Boomerang points at his neck, at the place where a bomb is implanted under his skin, “with this crap in my neck?”  

Tatsu looks up again, right him in the eye.

“You already know who you are,” she tells him. “You’re a weapon. Broken weapons get discarded. And you’re letting them break you.”  

He stays silent, just looks at her in an odd manner, as if she’s speaking another language but he has a vague understanding of what she’s saying and doesn’t like what he just heard – because it is the truth.

Tatsu still doesn’t understand why she cares, and with each passing minute she has less and less desire to learn why.  

“Also,” she continues, “if you call me ‘darl’ or ‘gorgeous’ one more time, you’re going to regret opening your mouth.”

“Yeah? And how should I call ya?”

“Katana.”

“What, and that’s all? Nah, we might be weapons,” and she probably ought to remind him that there is no ‘we’, but in this particular case he’s right. Perhaps that is why Tatsu feels drawn to all of them: they’re cut from the same cloth, “but we’re alive as well. So far. Seriously, what’s yer real name? You know mine.”  

“I should not disclose that.”  

“Oh, come on. Listen,” he breaks into a pleased grin again. Another theorem proven. “How about a deal? You tell me yer name, and I will try to keep my temper if anyone else decides to stir me up. What do ya think?”    

“As if you’re going to keep your word.”

Boomerang makes a show of putting his hand over his heart.

“For you, ma’am… anything.”

For you. All at once, she recalls Rick’s words: do whatever you want to him. How many minutes of the visit she has already spent on this predictably fruitless conversation?    

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro,” she says, tired, and then he smiles – not the way he did before, but in a calmer and more sincere manner. Gratefully.

“George Harkness,” he offers her his hand with an earnest air. “Nice to meet ya.”  

Tatsu hesitantly offers him hers. Her hand looks very small and fragile against his huge paw, and he must be thinking the same because the handshake comes out very careful. He could easily break her wrist. She could easily kill him with one hand afterwards. But he holds her hand gently in his warm, pleasantly calloused palm, and Tatsu hastens to take her hand away, because this is a mistake of an even worse kind than the time he saw her without the mask.  

“So you promise not to fights the guards.”

“I promise to try,” Harkness assures, but he’s keeping one hand behind his back.

“Don’t cross your fingers,” Tatsu says sternly. Real mature.

With a sigh, Boomerang repeats his promise, this time holding his hands within her view.

“But I ain’t promisin’ not to call you gorgeous,” he declares in the end.

“You know my name now.”

“But you’re still gorgeous.”

“Time’s up!” shouts the guard outside the door, and Tatsu cannot help feeling relieved that she has to go. She doesn’t regret visiting him, but all of this is too strange and awkward, and both of them might be weapons, but her position is different from his, and it is better not to forget that.    

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks him on parting.  

“Well,” Boomerang smirks. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“With something I would actually agree to do?”

“Come again. Will ya?” This time he isn’t flirting; this time she can feel his insecurity, even shyness. As if he doesn’t like to admit to himself that what she answers is really important to him.  

“I’ll try,” she says cautiously. She’s not going to make any promises: she asked Waller about one time only. She doubts if she’ll be allowed to visit them again – to visit him again.  

“Try,” Harkness repeats, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “This means no.”

“This means I’ll try,” Tatsu says firmly.

And she comes again in a week. And the week after next. And a week after that.  

 ***

 “Why didn’t you walk away in Midway City?” Tatsu asks him once. “When Rick broke the control panel. You left then; why did you return?”  

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the time Captain Boomerang dared to smart off Amanda Waller. Several successful missions, slightly more respectful attitude on his part – and his cell already bears a passing resemblance to a place for living, even if for living quite miserably. Now there is even a table, and a chair that she gets to sit on as guest privilege. Harkness is sitting on the floor opposite her. The question seems to catch him unawares, but only for a moment.    

“Huh? Why did I return? Gotta live up to my name, that’s why. Have you ever thrown a boomerang, luv?”

I’m going to throw you somewhere one day, Tatsu thinks, yet without much irritation.

“And jokes aside?”

Boomerang attempts to feign an offended sigh.

“How do ya think? Plenty of options, all right. You gonna try to guess which one?”

Tatsu frowns.

“Is this a psychoanalysis session? Were you bitten by Harley Quinn?”

“Nah, Blondie didn’t bite me, I would’ve remembered. So don’t be jealous,” his voice gets playful again, and Tatsu stifles the urge to roll her eyes. “Lookie here… suppose I suddenly realized that I can’t leave you guys! ‘Cause you’re my mates. One for all, and so on. Don’t believe me?”

“You said something about plenty of options. What are the rest of them?”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

“We-e-ell… the second, ‘course, is that I wanted to save the world. Not that the world smiles upon me every bloody day, but I still wanna live! And for everyone an’ their mother to know that the bastards like us can also be heroes. Don’t you like being one of the good guys, eh, Tatsu?”

“I’m not ‘one of the good guys’”, Tatsu protests. “And it’s not me that we’re talking about. Any other options?”

“There was no point in leaving. That was still gonna be the end of the world, aye? So I’d rather meet it in battle and in good company than on the run. All the same it’ll be the end. There you go.”  

He stops talking, and in the silence that falls Tatsu can hear the footsteps of the guards in the corridor. Once again she wonders what the duty attendants that monitor everything through the surveillance cameras think of their conversations. They must make for the strangest and most pointless reality show ever.  

“The third one,” she says.

Boomerang looks a bit disappointed.

“Why?”

“Not the first one, because none of us meant anything to you then. You had just met us. And it didn’t seem like you were upset about letting Slipknot down,” Tatsu explains. She doesn’t intend to offend him – she’s just saying the truth. Once, he claimed it himself that they understand each other – here’s some understanding, he’s welcome. “Not the second one either, because you’re not stupid – no, stop smiling. You never believed that if people like us stop the Enchantress, someone would learn about that. Only the third option remains.”  

Harkness nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and his eyes turn pensive, abstracted, as if he is there again, in the night city frozen in anticipation of the apocalypse. As if he sees himself – and makes a choice once again. “And that’s what happened in the end, didn’t it?”

“So the third option, then?”

“So it is.”

But something in his face makes Tatsu think that he was hoping for a different answer.

***

 Time flies; weeks and months go by. Tatsu spends them fighting, spilling someone else’s blood, occasionally drinking with Flag at a bar or in his apartment – a bachelor’s home again; reading books – most of the plots seem too naïve and unimaginative compared to what goes on in her life, and that is even for the best, and visiting the members of the Suicide Squad in Belle Reve. Some people go clubbing Friday evenings, and she goes to prison Friday afternoons.  

“Don’t get attached to them,” Rick scolds her.

“That is rich coming from you,” Tatsu replies, and he has enough self-awareness not to argue. Lest he gets offended, she chooses not to tell him that sometimes she and Lawton talk a little about him good-naturedly behind his back.

During one of her visits, Harkness raises a topic she has totally forgotten about.

“Hey, come to think of it, we never had that drink,” he points out. Tatsu doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, and it must be written all over her face, because he continues. “Remember I asked you out for a drink? In Midway City, before we fought the witch.”  

Tatsu has to make an effort to remember: indeed, he said something of the sort, but it never occurred to her to take those words seriously.

“We had a drink,” she counters. “When… when you shared your beer with me.”  

He shakes his head, dissatisfied.

“At the construction site? That’s bollocks. I’m talking a proper bar… nah, a restaurant! With crystal glasses an’ candles an’ shit… Like normal people.”  

“Candles,” Tatsu mumbles. She tries to imagine the two of them at the table at a restaurant; the picture turns out pretty absurd. On the other hand, a lot of what has happened in her life during the past few years can be deemed absurd.

“Yeah. Candles,” echoes Harkness, and continues with a crooked smile, “well, that’s me jokin’ around. In the near future,” he gestures in the direction of the small barred window of his cell, “I won’t be able to take you even to a fucking McDonald’s.”  

They don’t talk about the hypothetical dinners at a restaurant anymore, but the absurd picture stays with Tatsu, who still feels somehow indebted to Boomerang – for no reason, as she keeps telling herself – for that conversation at the construction site. She doesn’t like to feel the weight of unpaid debts on her shoulders – yes, that’s what it is about.

One day, she finds a way to pay that debt back.

 ***

 She waits for him in the car outside the prison gate. She hears him first; she cannot make out what exactly he is yelling at the guards, but that surely isn’t ‘good evening’. Then the door of the jeep is open, and someone must have kicked him in the rear because he literally falls into the car. Tatsu shrinks back on instinct.  

Then Harkness looks up – and notices her.

“Katana?.. Hey, what the hell’s going on? They didn’t let me take the boomerangs, didn’t let me take anything…”

“Close the door,” Tatsu tells him, and when he, still confused, obeys, tells the driver, “Let’s go.”

The car pulls away.

“I still don’t get what’s happening,” Harkness reminds her. “Sure, I’m happy to see ya, but… you weren’t ordered to take me to the woods and finish me off under the radar, huh?”  

“If Waller wanted to get rid of you, she would have had you killed in your own cell, and that’s all.”

“Wow, thanks for honesty. So where are we going?”

“To a restaurant,” Tatsu says, and turns away. Yet again it crosses her mind that it is a terrible idea.

“A restaurant?” Harkness drawls quizzically.

“As far as I recall, you said that the beer at the construction site is ‘bollocks’.”  

She should turn back to him, of course. The problem is that Tatsu is ninety-nine per cent sure that if she meets his eye now, she will blush. And she is by no means going to give him any sign that might be interpreted as taking an interest… of a certain kind. She has already blundered more than a few times.  

Therefore she stubbornly keeps looking out of the window. Then again, she doesn’t even need to look to picture how his facial expression is changing now; she’s seen this rakish grin enough times.  

“Holy cow. Tatsu, are you serious? We’re really just going to a restaurant? We’re getting outta this shithole where they only give us porridge with rat crap to gorge ourselves on lobsters and drink wine? Oh, fuck me sideways,” in the end, she turns to him and sees him throw back his head and burst into laughter, narrowing his eyes happily. “I’ll be damned! Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Pinch me.”    

“I can assure you you’re not,” Tatsu says, and realizes that she is also starting to smile despite herself. She has visited him and the others in Belle Reve often enough to know that porridge with rat crap, unfortunately, is far from being just a figure of speech. After such a diet, a meal at a restaurant must seem like the pinnacle of happiness.    

Boomerang shakes his head, apparently still unable to believe her.

“Holy fucking shit. How did you do that? How do you even do all that? I’ve told ya you’re unreal, have I?”

“Yes, you have,” Tatsu confirms patiently. And more than once – too often for her to attach great importance to it, too fervently for it not to please her at all. “Let’s put it that way: this is Waller paying me for a… favour.”  

“A favour, then. I take it a lot of some poor suckers died?”

“No,” she shakes her head. And it is true – but there still was a lot of blood. Both the man Waller indicated and his bodyguards turned out to be worthy adversaries. The whole thing went not as smoothly as she wanted it to – not that she wanted to; not that she would kill another person she knows nothing about if she could help it. Nothing to assure her: this one deserves it. Everything turned out rather… nasty. She had to burn the bodies. Then she got home in a haze, tended to a couple of fresh wounds – or rather, just scratches. And then she went to the bathroom and spent a long time soaping herself, as if the invisible filth that bothered her the most could be washed off with shower gel.    

Afterwards, she rummaged through her modest wardrobe and dug out the only dress she has about in America. Nothing special: wine red, below the knee length, sleeveless but with a pretty high neckline – very demure. The first and so far the last dress she bought after… after. If she and Rick didn’t have to accompany Amanda Waller to some event once, she wouldn’t have bought this one either. She put it on, combed her hair, still wet after the shower, with her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror – and flew into a rage, pulled off the dress, and could barely stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Restaurant or not, what does it matter? The last thing she needs is for him to think she dressed up for him.      

So the situation might be a little less absurd than it could have been. Both of them look like they’re going on another mission with the others, only she isn’t wearing her mask – he has already seen her face anyway – and he isn’t wearing his ever-present coat. It is no wonder he wasn’t allowed to take it – Waller wasn’t going to let him out of Belle Reve armed, and to let him wear his coat would probably be as unwise as to hand him all his boomerangs. Tatsu has no doubt that everyone and their dog have already searched through the personal belongings of the Squad, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere in his inside pockets Harkness has as many boomerangs as he is listed as having officially. She witnessed this man produce from his bosom at least four different lighters, a massive stack of dollars, a pocket knife, small binoculars, flat-nose pliers, and a toy unicorn. She has to admit: sometimes she doesn’t understand how he even does all that either.    

It appears that the thoughts of Captain Boomerang also turn to the contents of his pockets.

“Hey, how the hell are we affording this, though? Make no mistake, I’d stand treat, but my stash is in the coat, and these assholes didn’t let me take it, y’know.”    

“Don’t worry about that. Waller is paying for everything,” she explains, unable to suppress a grin, because this part, possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire affair, gives her a sort of silly, spiteful joy. Task Force X is a comparatively recent project, but they’ve already cleaned up so much mess for Amanda Waller that Heracles and his labours don’t even come close. A dinner at a restaurant is the least thing she could offer them. So when Boomerang explodes with laughter and gives her a conspiratorial wink, she looks him right in the eye and smiles. Another mistake. Then again, this is not the first time they share a secret.

He puts his hand on her knee, and she shakes it off immediately; this is way too far.

“I see you took your sword with ya,” Harkness observes, not giving any sign that something didn’t go the way he wanted.

“I am to keep an eye on you.”

“Yeah. How about…” he leans in closer, and the smell of cologne blasts up Tatsu’s nose. She can only hope it is due to external use only, “we chop off his head,” he nods at the driver, “and drive the fuck away from this? Huh?”    

The driver, who can definitely hear everything, doesn’t turn, but Tatsu notices him tense up.

“You’re kidding,” she says dryly. He may be, or he may be not – with Digger Harkness, one cannot always tell.

“Why kidding, doll? Zip, and done. There’s no way you enjoy working for Waller.”  

“I do not. But if you pull some stunt,” Tatsu feels for the sword hilt, and Boomerang sees that – very well, it is good for him to see that, “I will chop your head off. I really hope it won’t come to that.”  

“And what’s it to you? Scared of me? But I’m unarmed,” he claps himself on the chest demonstratively, implying that he has no weapons on him. “Why do you care if it does?”  

“I just wouldn’t like to do that,” she says firmly, and it’s true. It works well; he doesn’t even mention running away for the remainder of the day.

 This might be the strangest evening in her life.

Waller’s man drives them to a French restaurant whose name she cannot read but is almost sure that the phrase was chosen solely because it sounds impressive. They are let in through the back door, so no one among the other guests, who are sporting evening dresses and suits, pays any attention to her crop top and sword or to his… appearance in general. Their table is one of those located in alcoves, away from prying eyes, but Tatsu feels they are being watched. Which means Waller doesn’t trust her too much – well, she can understand that. She is part of a special team composed of deranged madmen, and she must admit she likes these deranged madmen more than she likes certain normal people known to her. Of course, she is Flag’s right-hand woman, but it is most likely that Waller doesn’t trust Flag either. It is doubtful whether there are any people in this world that she trusts at all.          

Waller is rich. Their little feast will not shatter her wealth, all the more so since the restaurant she sent them to is not the most luxurious. But they still have a field day ordering loads of food and a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.    

“To honour among thieves?” she suggests, when they raise their glasses for the first time.

“Didn’t ya say yer not a thief?”

“That is true,” she admits, and adds inwardly, I’m a killer.  

In the end, they drink to the Suicide Squad. Then to Lawton and Jones, currently languishing in their cells. Then to Zoe Lawton, who is acting in a school play next week. To a lot of things. He asks her about her life here, in America. At some point she finds herself trying to explain to him what taiyaki is, and him telling her about banana sandwiches, and she can’t remember why they started talking about this at all. The bottle becomes empty, and another appears as if by itself.      

They don’t talk about the past. They don’t talk about the future, because there might be no future at all – they can’t know for sure, what with their way of life. That evening, Tatsu laughs and thinks: good thing I’m drunk – it almost gets easier for a while.  

When it’s time to leave, Harkness gets pig-headed.

“Whoa, no, no, no. Already? It’s too early, are you kiddin’ me?” he booms out when they exit the restaurant. He protests, but she drags him by the hand and he stumbles along after all, treading heavily like a dancing bear. “Let’s go someplace else, luv. Look at the pretty stars.”  

“We are already late. And you… you have to go back to jail,” Tatsu tells him. The stars are pretty indeed, but she regrets looking up at them, because her head begins to spin. Thankfully, she isn’t wearing high heels. Thankfully, she doesn’t have any high-heeled shoes at all, or she could have been possessed to wear them. “Sorry,” she adds when they get into the car and set off. “There is no other way.”  

“Back to jail,” Boomerang repeats with disgust. Sprawling on the seat, he unzips his hoodie, and Tatsu is swept over by the smell of cologne again. Weirdly, it doesn’t annoy her as much as at the beginning of the evening. “I’m a fucking Cinderella. I’m not back by midnight, they turn me into a pumpkin.”  

“Cinderella,” Tatsu echoes, and giggles: everything is way funnier now. The driver makes a sudden turn, and she is literally thrown at Boomerang. Her cheek presses to his chest – and stays there. Tatsu feels drunk and sated and drunk again, and sleepy too, and he makes for a decent pillow, and she can’t make herself move away.  

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” Harkness mutters with mock offence in his voice. It seems he’s about to fall asleep too. “Well, go on, laugh.”

They drive back in silence, and through the drowse Tatsu feels the warm arm around her waist and thinks: good thing I’m drunk, I can pretend I’m asleep.  

The road to Belle Reve is long, but it still feels like they reach it too quickly.

“Inmate,” calls one of the guards, “get out.”  

Harkness, his eyes still closed, moans with discontent.

“Captain Boomerang,” Tatsu says softly, freeing herself from his embrace. “It’s time.”

There is nothing to be done. He’s already about to step out of the jeep, when he suddenly moves closer to her again.

“Hey, darlin’,” he says, looking her right in the eye. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?”

It takes her some time to realize what he means: he must be expecting her to kiss him. All at once she remembers everything that has happened this evening, and awful shame washes over her: it is no wonder he’s expecting that to happen.  

“Inmate, get out!”

She shrinks back.

“Good night, Captain,” she tells him as dryly as she can. He looks wounded but says nothing, and almost obediently lets the guards escort him back to his cell. Tatsu closes her eyes and rubs her temples wearily. Tomorrow she is going to regret drinking so much. She already does – and that’s not the only thing she regrets.

She has to stop seeing him.

 ***

 At first, she even succeeds. Next Friday Tatsu, as always, goes to Belle Reve to see the Squad – all of them save for Harkness. She feels sick at heart because if she did promise him anything, it was to visit him, and now she’s going back on her word because of her own stupid weakness. But there is no other way.  

“He asked about you,” Waylon tells her a week later, when she brings him the latest issue of Playboy. Tatsu almost doesn’t feel weird anymore when buying it, and doesn’t try to imagine anymore what the news stand clerks think when she pays them for it. Such periodicals cause her a feeling of light disgust, but Croc, who gets let out of jail only to be thrown into another trouble spot, deserves at least some small joys.  

“Who?”

Waylon, no doubt observant like all the quiet ones tend to be, bares his impressive teeth.  

“You know who.”

It seems a logical solution to give up on these visits at all – but in that case she would betray all of them. Perhaps this little tradition is much more important to her than it is to the prisoners, but Tatsu is almost sure that it means something to them as well. She has no right to deprive the rest of them of this bit of understanding, companionship, normalcy because she wasn’t smart enough to stop the game she and Boomerang started before it became too late.

At home – not that the apartment she’s renting here deserves to be called ‘home’ – she, unable to fall asleep, unsheathes the sword and runs the tips of her fingers along the cool blade. A tender, habitual movement – like touching the cheek of a loved one.

“I’ve lost my way, Maseo,” whispers Tatsu. The place where the souls of the people struck down by this blade are trapped is still a mystery to her, but she knows that Maseo will come as soon as she calls him – as a voice from afar, as nebulous shapes in the swirls of smoke, as the peace and safety granted by the presence of someone dear. “I’m afraid of my own heart.”    

I know your heart, Tatsu. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“It makes me act rashly. Makes me succumb to false feelings.”  

I know your heart, Tatsu, and it incapable of falsehood.  

Only the ones that are already far away can speak so vaguely and with such unrelenting honesty at the same time.  

“I will always love you,” she whispers ardently. Not because she doesn’t want him to think it is not so; not because she herself feels like it is not so anymore either. She knows for sure that she is always going to love him, for she loved him as a lover, as a husband, as the father of her children, as the only thing she had left after all her life fell apart, burned in that damned fire. He will stay in her heart until her last breath – even if she has to close her heart to the rest of the world. Once she used to think that after all she’s been through, it isn’t going to be an issue.

And I will always love you, her husband replies, and Tatsu blinks back tears with a deep sigh.

“I just wish you were alive,” she tells him for what must be the hundredth, or maybe a thousandth time.

If he was with her – not as smoke or a voice, but as flesh and blood – he probably would have kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, as he often used to do.  

I just wish, says her husband – no, the soul of her husband, which is already rushing away, deep into the world she shouldn’t hurry to go to if she doesn’t want this sword to fall into wrong hands, that you were happy.

***

 Literally the next day there is a message from Metropolis that some giant snake-like beast is terrorizing the city and devouring people. The monster was last seen crawling into the building of the opera – which is where their squad heads to after reaching the city.  

“Look at that freak,” Harkness comments in a low voice. The creature is curled up slumbering on stage, and they are watching it from the catwalks above. “Not a family of yours by any chance, eh, ‘gator?’    

Waylon steps towards him, and the planks creak under his feet, threatening to break.

“Say that again,” he growls.

Tatsu bares her sword and wedges herself between them. Waylon backs off reluctantly.

“Knock it off,” she tells Boomerang. It feels like everything has come full circle – the day Harkness picked up her mask, he also had a run-in with Jones. The day they were sent to fight the Enchantress, she also put the blade of her sword under his chin. Why did she even think something would change?

“Oh, so you’re talking to me after all?”

“Enough,” Tatsu hisses. She really wants to try to explain everything to him. Maybe if she tries to put her feelings into words, many things will become clear to her, too. But if he thinks they are going to discuss this now, he is mistaken.

On the neighbouring catwalk, Rick is looking at them in a rage, gesturing both of them to shut up. Harkness steps closer; now the blade of the Soultaker is within a hair’s breadth away from his neck. A single careless movement, and blood will be spilled. A wild idea crosses her mind: it looks as if he’s into this. Tatsu licks her lips.

“Y’know,” Boomerang begins, lowering his head a little so that it is easier for him to look her in the eye, “I think you’re scared of me. Or of yourself, hell if I know. Am I right?”  

A loud rustle comes from beneath, and the next instant the monster bites through the middle of the catwalk they’re standing on, and both of them are falling down. Tatsu manages to grab some rope, but when she tries to climb it, her hands slip, and she comes tumbling down.

The fall is far from being soft, even though she falls on the tatters of the curtain, which the snake must have torn earlier. She is lucky not to hurt her head, but her left leg and hip are aching. Only the awareness that there is no time to lie around makes her summon up all her strength and get up. Her sword is nowhere to be seen, and Tatsu is overwhelmed by fury: now she is useless.

The snake roars and shakes its head, trying to shake off Croc, who is trying to bite through its scales. Rick is shooting at the monster from above, and Deadshot, who is already on stage somehow, is doing the same from below, dodging the blows of its tail. Tatsu sweeps her eyes weakly over the stage and suddenly notices a hole broken in it. At the very edge of the hole, the hilt of her sword is sticking out of the floor. Moving as quickly as it is possible to do that with a limp, Tatsu hurries there.

The moment she pulls the sword out of the stage, Harkness’s head pokes out of the hole. Not waiting for him to ask for help, Tatsu helps him get out.

“Are you…” both of them begin in unison and drop it immediately, because the snake has managed to shake off the bothersome little crocodile – who is hopefully just somewhere on the floor and not in its belly – and is moving towards them, slower than before but still pretty speedily. They scatter, and Tatsu charges at the monster with her sword drawn. Harkness throws a boomerang at the creature, aiming at its eye, but it dodges at the last second.        

Eventually, with joint forces they manage to kill the beast. To be on the safe side, Lawton fires a round into its open jaws. The long body shudders one last time and falls still. For some time, the five of them stand there looking at it.

“Where could this thing even come from?” Rick mutters.

“Remember what the Wicked Witch of the West said when she tried to get us to join her? The world is changing, the time of magic has come, blah, blah, blah,” Lawton reminds him. Rick nods absentmindedly; these are not happy memories.

Jones kicks the dead snake.

“Maybe it meant no harm,” he points out in his deep voice.

“Croc,” Rick says wearily, “it ate people.”

“So did I.”

“But at least you didn’t chew the curtain at the opera like a disgraced diva?” Lawton asks, struggling not to grin.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, then it’s okay.”

Rick titters nervously, and the next instant all of them are shaking with laughter.

 Tatsu is drinking water straight from the tap in the restroom, when Harkness comes in.

“This is a ladies’ room,” she says reflexively.

“Hey, I just wanna wash my face, is all.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he comes closer and starts washing at the neighbouring sink. Tatsu casts a sidelong look at him and notices that the water is turning red.  

“Show me your face,” she orders.

“It’s not a bad face, what’s yer problem?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands still while she examines his face, only wincing when she dabs at the cut on his forehead with a paper towel.

“Just a scratch,” he assures at once.

“Just a scratch,” Tatsu agrees. She scrunches up the towel and throws it into the sink. She would like to keep her hand on his face, pretending that she’s still wiping off the blood, but she’s done pretending.

“How about you?” Boomerang asks quietly.

“Fine. A couple of bruises. You were lucky today,” she says just as quietly, and takes off her mask. Tomorrow they might not be as lucky. “I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy you got out alive… darl.”

For a moment she wants him to ruin everything. To reply with a jibe, to crack another dirty joke, to try to grab and kiss her only to get smacked. Not to stand motionless in front of her like he’s afraid to scare her off. It occurred to her once that from the outside their relationship might look like an attempt to tame a wild animal. Perhaps this is a mutual process.

Do whatever you want to him.

She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him.

For an instant, Harkness freezes – possibly trying to figure out again if he’s dreaming – and then pulls her closer and kisses back. Drinks her hungrily, like this is both the first time and the last. Bearing in mind what their lives are like, it really might be the last.

Tatsu doesn’t immediately realize why she suddenly doesn’t need to stand on tiptoes anymore.

“Put me down–” she starts, but gives up and wraps her legs around his waist. Boomerang grunts with satisfaction and switches from her lips to her neck. His beard, fortunately, is softer than could have been expected.  

“Stop drinking so much,” Tatsu breathes out, now that no one is trying to shut her mouth. “You taste like…” all English words slip her mind, “like… a beer cask.”  

It tickles her when he laughs into her neck.

Someone simply must enter now – Rick, Floyd, Amanda Waller, the president of the United  States, but no, no one is trying to stop him from squeezing her hips, to stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Weapon to weapon, blade to blade. Red-hot metal to red-hot metal. Melting until something new is forged – without fear, without regret, without the past, without the future.

Clearly, Maseo wants too much: she remembers what happiness is, and she is sure she’ll never ever be happy again.

But she can take a shot at being alive.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Some fresh moonfam angst

So this just hit me, guys, and I need to share the pain, please brace for the Sads.

Runaan’s squad. Four adult assassins, and a 15 year old assassin-in-training. Why did Runaan bring Rayla? Why did he bring these elves?

I just had a really angsty headcanon, and it just keeps giving.

It started with Feathershawl’s crystal. They’re a ghosted Moonshadow from the Tales of Xadia playtest tale, and they carry a crystal that holds the illusions of dozens of family members they’ve been cut off from. Dozens.

That’s a big family!

It fits with the idea that Lain, Tiadrin, Runaan, and Ethari were all basically a big family unit, but it’s much bigger even than that! And it makes sense that Moonshadows would have as many life-affirming connections as they can get, to try to balance the stresses of their culture as well as their inherent introversion: it might be stressful to go shopping, but if you’re just visiting your cousin Merry, then that’s okay, right, you know her.

So what if the moonfam as we know them is just a fraction of their true extended family, and they also have dozens of extended/adopted/found family members that they love and cherish deep in their hearts? Seems likely that plenty of them would be assassins, since Laindrin and Runaan are assassins.

That sounds like a nice thing, right? A positive thing in all of their lives. They are all each others’ safety net and comfort, as family is supposed to be.

Until.

Gosh, it must’ve been hard for Laindrin to leave for the Storm Spire, so very hard. But knowing they were bringing honor to the Moonshadows, and to their family, probably made it a little easier to take. Plus, they were probably safer there than on missions. Until they weren’t.

Family honor seems to be a thing in Moonshadow society. In the book one novelization, Runaan makes a cutting comment about Rayla’s lineage when he’s trying to drive her away from the castle. But that really means that when Laindrin “failed”, their dishonor belonged to everyone in their extended family. Everyone who trusted them had their honor, their judgment, fall into question.

And Moonshadows don’t like questions. They like answers. They always act quickly when something goes wrong, trying to put it right swiftly.

So: Laindrin fails. Runaan’s family honor is tainted. He has to do something. But he’s not the only one who’s been besmirched. And neither is Rayla.

Here’s where the angst starts to ramp up: everyone in Laindrin’s whole family was tainted by their supposed failure. Everyone. Potentially dozens of elves.

What’s a Moonshadow assassin leader to do when all the assassins in his family have their honor questioned, and there’s one single mission they can undertake to redress the balance?

He takes them with him. Runaan takes his family with him to Katolis.

I know I’ve speculated half a dozen reasons why Runaan felt he had to take Rayla with him, and they generally boil down to restoring his and Rayla’s honor for being associated with Laindrin. But in this headcanon, everyone else on the squad is in the same boat!

And see, *slaps roof of headcanon* this baby can fit so much other angsty headcanons in it! I have a headcanon that Andromeda is Runaan’s half-sister, Lujanne’s daughter by another of her husbands, because she has traits in common with both of them. That slides seamlessly into this headcanon.

It also fits as a reason for Runaan’s softness when he squeezes Callisto’s arm reassuringly while he’s binding him to their mission.

Callisto is the elf Runaan is closest with. His tent is next to Runaan’s, and he’s the elf Runaan (briefly) discusses strategy with in the tree when they regroup after learning of Rayla’s deception.

So Skor and Ram must also have family ties to Runaan as well. This is so exciting!

Okay so far? Runaan’s squad, his homies, are family, in all the ways that “family” holds meaning for him. He got his best fams together to go Make Things Right for their honor in Katolis. In this context, Rayla’s accompaniment on the mission makes a whole lot more sense. Her family connection to Laindrin is one of the most direct, if not the most direct, out of everyone in the squad. If this is the kind of thing that Moonshadows do when family honor is questioned, then it makes sense that Rayla demanded to go, and that Runaan said yes. It wasn’t just her he was taking.

In fact, I wonder if Runaan had so many requests that he had to make a list and choose his team from a whole bunch of family who demanded the right to go on the mission. Maybe they started asking the minute that Laindrin’s ghosting ritual was over. Maybe they felt they had to.

So Runaan took his best and brightest family members to Katolis. And then they failed, and he had to watch them all die beside him. It was his mission to run, and it got away from him, and four of his family died right in front of him.

No wonder he desperately wanted Rayla off the mission. If he knew from the moment he laid eyes on Marcos that several members of his own family were gonna die that night, he’d do whatever it took--and he did--to convince Rayla to leave the mission and survive. He was trying to mitigate the disaster that was about to slam into his family tree.

Okay, so this is angsty. But... Can I make it angstier?

Yes, yes I can. Hold tight.

See, because this was a family of hurt, grieving, angry assassins, seeking to prove that they were still honorable elves, that they could still do the job, could still serve their people, could still stand strong beneath the heavy dangerous duty they carried. They went to prove that they could carry this together, that they were good and upright elves in the eyes of their society, that they knew the rules and that they would follow them no matter what, as was expected of them. They went to Katolis to prove that they had not forgotten how to serve properly.

And then, not only did they fall in battle and fail in their mission, but a dark mage resurrected their helpless forms and sent them on new missions in an absolute travesty of what a Moonshadow assassin’s purpose is supposed to be. Dark magic keeps appearing as an imperfect copy of primal magic--which I love, btw--and the missions that Viren handed out are no different. His smoky assassins took lives with their assassin skills, yes. That was Viren’s whole point in using assassin cremains in his spell. But the elf spirits were not honor bound, they weren’t serving their people--quite the opposite, they were serving a dark mage--and they didn’t volunteer, they were pressed into service without consent.

The best and brightest of Runaan’s assassin family fell into the hands of a mage who turned their purpose inside out and manipulated their skills to serve his will instead of their people’s. They didn’t even get to die properly--part of them got yoinked back into the world of the living to carry out Viren’s will.

I cannot imagine how that knowledge will make Runaan, Rayla, their surviving family, and the other Moonshadow elves feel. I’m kinda glad that Rayla tackled him off the Storm Spire without knowing what he’d done to the other assassins. Her self-sacrifice was pure there, saving Zym’s life by trading it for her own, with no extra anger or vengeance in her heart.

But if anyone ever learns about what happened to the other assassins, well. *holds out cup for more angst*

[hafanforever]

Split Decision

So I think what happens at the end of this particular scene in Frozen II has caused some controversy about Elsa’s actions. I’ve seen fans here on Tumblr displaying anger towards her because they believe that she was only hugging Anna, and then had Olaf join them, in an act of trickery to lure them closer to her so she would make sure that her ice boat creation would surround and hold them before she sent them away.

However, while I agree that Elsa’s move was a bit sneaky and deceptive, I understand why she did it and why she felt it was her only choice, even though she knew Anna would consequently be furious with her over it. And now that I think about it, I look at Elsa’s hug from another perspective and believe that it wasn’t merely a trick to lure Anna and Olaf into her boat trap, but her own way (though a rather forceful and indirect one) of saying goodbye to them.

Before this happens, Elsa has decided to venture to Ahtohallan alone, without Anna, saying that crossing the Dark Sea to reach Ahtohallan would be too dangerous of a trek for both of them to make. Yet Anna adamantly insists on coming to prevent anything from happening to Elsa, which she had earlier promised to Pabbie.

The thing here is, Elsa turns out to be completely right about the Dark Sea. When she tries to cross it, she gets knocked down twice by the waves, struggles to swim in the deep, choppy waters, and has to use her powers to try to overcome the obstacles to get further out and closer to Ahtohallan. Things get more complicated for Elsa when the Nokk appears; several times, it aggressively attacks her and attempts to drown her, forcing her to fight back with all of her might until she finally makes it settle down.

This whole scene reminds me of the earlier scene when Elsa decides to go to the forest and tries to discourage Anna from coming, saying that she (Elsa) has her powers to protect her, while Anna does not. But Anna stubbornly refuses to take no for an answer, given what dangerous feats she overcame on their previous adventure without the use of magical powers.

The entire scene of Elsa against the Dark Sea proves her point about her powers’ use in protecting her perfectly. She would not have been able to take care of herself by working to get past the big waves and fighting the Nokk if she had to do it with Anna, too. Maybe this sounds a little biased, and I don’t mean for it to sound that way, but it’s true that only Elsa could successfully face off against the Nokk since they are both magical beings (and as it turns out, Elsa is an elemental spirit just like it). Okay, yes, we’ve seen how Anna can do a damn great job of taking care of herself in tough situations, and I give her credit for it. I am not at all dismissing her as a weak, inept, incompetent, helpless damsel in distress, because I KNOW she isn’t. She’s tough, plucky, spunky, brave, and fearless. But Anna DOES have her limitations, and I think she sometimes overlooks or underestimates that about herself. Successfully crossing the Dark Sea and taking on the Nokk is NOT something she would have been able to do at all.

Getting back to Elsa’s reasoning that she had to go to Ahtohallan by herself, like I said, the scene of her doing so proves that she was right. Now she probably didn’t anticipate on encountering the Nokk, but I bet Elsa did think that there might be risks about which she didn’t know yet while crossing the Dark Sea, which is another reason why she refused to let Anna come along. 

Another thing here that catches my attention is how Anna doesn't seem to heed Elsa’s words about the sea being too dangerous if they both tried to go, since she immediately responds to Elsa’s statement with, “No, no. We do this together. Remember the song? ‘Go too far and you’ll be drowned’.” It is crystal clear from these words, and from her earlier scenes where she never wanted to leave her sister’s side, that Anna had a desperate desire to protect Elsa during this journey.

When she adds, "Who will stop you from going too far?", it sounds like Anna isn’t thoroughly considering that the chances of Elsa dying was much greater, and for herself as well, if they tried to pass the Dark Sea together. Anna wanted to ensure that Elsa didn’t head too far into Ahtohallan’s depths and dying, but they wouldn't have even made it to Ahtohallan without crossing the sea first. They both could have perished before getting there, and then their mission would remain incomplete. Then again, perhaps Anna did realize the possibility of them both not being able to make it across the sea, but she just didn’t want to accept or even think about it because she was far more afraid of losing her sister if Elsa went all alone.

Obviously, the fact that the two discovered moments earlier that their parents had died trying to reach Ahtohallan in search of answers to her powers is what made Elsa decide that Anna could not go with her. She guiltily felt responsible for Agnarr and Iduna’s deaths, and she didn't want to carry extra weight on her shoulders by feeling responsible for Anna’s safety and taking the chance of her dying if they went together. Since Anna is the only blood family Elsa has left, she refused to risk losing her, too.

I mean, remember: Elsa briefly lost Anna once before, and at her own hands, so she was determined not to let it happen again. Any chance of losing Anna again on this journey would no doubt be permanent, and Elsa would never forgive herself if that happened. 😔

Like the earlier scene, Anna stubbornly refuses to take no for an answer to Elsa’s decision to go to Ahtohallan alone. While she understands Anna’s fear of the chance that she (Elsa) may die on her trek, Elsa knows that she may have to take that risk just to do what is right for Arendelle and the forest. But successfully crossing the sea is something that is far beyond Anna’s control.

So having made up her mind that crossing the sea would be more dangerous if they both go, Elsa puts her foot down (by LITERALLY doing so when she creates the ice path 😆) with utmost and firm determination that Anna cannot continue the journey by coming to Ahtohallan with her. 

When Anna says that she wants to come because she can’t bear to lose Elsa, Elsa says she can’t lose Anna, either, and pulls her sister in for a hug. Like I said above, I see her hugging Anna, and Olaf, not just as a ruse to ensure that she could send them off to be safe, but to say goodbye. If Elsa thinks that she may die and thus never see them again, then she wanted to embrace them now since it may be for the last time. Despite Anna’s insistence and voicing her fear of losing Elsa, Elsa feels that her fear of losing Anna is even greater since Anna would be in much greater danger with trying to cross the sea. So she resorts to forcing her sister not to accompany her by making the ice boat and sending Anna and Olaf away to make sure that they wouldn’t and couldn’t follow her. Elsa also creates the ice path on which for the boat to slide to ensure that the two would be sent too far away for them to easily follow and catch up with her.

Additionally, I have been wondering if Elsa's desire to journey to Ahtohallan on her own wasn't just for the safety measures of her sister, but also because of her introverted nature, because of her independence and desire to do certain things alone (which she clearly demonstrated when she made up her mind to travel to the Enchanted Forest). Additionally, the fact that Elsa is another elemental spirit of the forest, the fifth spirit, means that she had to go to Ahtohallan by herself, as part of her destiny to learn her true identity. She had to be independent, as she likes to be, and discover the whole truth for herself, on her own.

While Elsa is the introvert between the two sisters, Anna is the extrovert, and with this kind of nature, I don't think she truly understands the ways of introverts. It is with this scene, and even in Frozen, when she insists to Kristoff that "nobody wants to be alone, except maybe you" as a response to him saying “Most people who disappear into the mountains want to be alone” that shows that she doesn’t entirely comprehend their ways. Maybe after three years, Anna understands Elsa and Kristoff’s introverted behaviors a little more. But when considering the big picture, I think she still believes no one ever really wants to be alone, or even do things alone, just because she doesn't want to. After all, Anna spent nearly all of those 13 years alone and isolated from the outside world, and she wants to make sure she never goes back to that life. And yet despite her tragic childhood and adolescence, Anna grew up to be kind, sweet, loving, and good-hearted, and never hesitates to help others and do what was right. However, it also seems to have made her a bit delusional and unrealistic by thinking everyone else wants to be around people like she does, or that they always need help for every situation. Anna doesn’t appear to fully understand that some people like to be independent and have to do things on their own, nor does she seem willing to accept the fact that she can’t help everyone with everything, especially Elsa. She has to learn that she can’t be by Elsa’s side all the time just to stop every bad thing that might happen. She has to learn to accept and respect the fact that Elsa feels comfortable taking on some challenges all by herself and doesn’t always need help. In the first movie, Anna’s ignorance of Elsa’s secret is part of why she didn’t understand why her sister was so distant and closed in. But even after discovering it, she still disbelieved that Elsa wanted to be alone and that it was a major reason why she ran away. And while she was right in the long run, Anna sometimes seemed to go too far with her optimism since she didn’t really listen to Elsa’s concerns that she couldn’t remove the winter curse. Likewise, when she first met Kristoff, Anna didn't understand his grumpy, rude, unfriendly behavior towards her and Oaken, or his contemptuous attitude towards people and society.

So now in this scene, Anna seems to be unable, or perhaps just far too stubborn, to comprehend the fact that Elsa MUST do this on her own as part of her destiny, and that her powers could help her through this, while the same could not be said for her (Anna). Again, the tasks of making it across the Dark Sea and simultaneously taming the Nokk are beyond Anna’s control. It would have been far more treacherous than climbing the North Mountain, surviving a frozen heart, and saving Elsa from her ex-boyfriend without powers to aid her. 😉

Moving on, when Anna and Olaf are finally out of sight, the last shot of Elsa in the scene shows her holding herself and looking unhappy at what she did. As I said in “Keep Your Hands to Yourself”, Elsa does feel guilty and unhappy over sending Anna away the way she did, knowing full well that having done so has made her sister angry at her. But right now, Elsa is far more concerned about Anna’s safety than her happiness, and she would rather send her away to be safe than let her come along for the rest of the journey just so Anna can be happy that they are still together.

So again, Anna could not come with Elsa to Ahtohallan because the perils of the Dark Sea could have killed them both. If it didn’t kill both of them, Anna would have been the more susceptible victim because she possesses no magical powers to help her, especially in dealing with the Nokk. With even one of them dead, Elsa and Anna’s mission would never be finished; as I explained in “Girls in the Mist”, they HAD to do it together.

Elsa’s decision to split her and Anna up in this scene means that for now, she has broken her promise that she and Anna would do their mission together. But when Elsa temporarily freezes to death upon going into the most dangerous part of Ahtohallan, Anna manages to lift the mist and free the forest by provoking the Giants into destroying the dam.

Because she was alive and safe like her sister wanted her to be, Anna was able to successfully finish the work Elsa started. So even though they weren’t physically together the whole time, they STILL did it together, meaning that in the end, Elsa kept her promise to Anna. 😁😄😊