#the way she expresses herself with me is something i cannot imagine taking for granted. take my entire heart from my chest if that ever

[alluralater]

Lemme just say I read that entire rant about that girl on your tags and holy shit that’s cute- 😭

THANK YOU I ADORE HER!!!!! i wanna hold her hair back and whisper from on my knees behind her all the things i love about her while she gets her throat fucked

[c0rpseductor]

ive had my bagel. coffee is brewing. it is time for me to be mean to jean webster about daddy long legs.

the first thing you should know is that daddy long legs is a book blithely unconcerned with its text, let alone its subtext. i think saying it has any subtext is also really generous and magnanimous of me, because it's certainly all in there by fucking accident. this novel doesn't have time to think. it's too busy being twee.

i liked judy at the beginning. generally i still like the idea of her, but reading daddy long legs is like reading a toothache, and you begin to resent her a little on principle, privately, in a dark mean corner of your heart. i rather suspect the beginning chapters are more organic because jean webster had not quite yet discovered that she'd struck "from the mouths of babes" gold* with this character, and once she figured that out there was no turning back. (it's worth noting that not only is this fucking grating, but most of this bizarre infantilization happens once judy is well past 18.)

the part that sticks with me is this. everything endearing, everything clever, everything judy about judy is what we're shown at the beginning of the novel -- her irreverent humor, her justified disdain for authority figures who don't earn the respect they demand, her stubbornness and mischief, her own idiosyncratic way of thinking and her hand in little private rebellions. this is why (retch) jevis takes any interest in her to begin with. it's really worth noting that, beyond her humor, this is all treated as immaturity to be corrected, especially if it would lead her to question jervis/mr. long legs.

there was the shadow of something good in it, for certain. having jervis' manipulations be so readily fucking apparent to the reader but not judy (who was perfectly oblivious) makes her read as kind of a blithe idiot, really not in keeping with her portrayal as otherwise fairly intelligent, but i think it was at least in part an error in craft since webster locked herself into an epistolary format and that strikes me as like, a very difficult format in which to pull off this particular twist. in part, too, i think any intelligence she grants judy has to be harshly reigned in, because judy is a young woman, and, well, this novel is kind of glaringly misogynist

and like, okay, i should give some slack where it's due, it was 1912. at the same time, though, it's kind of inescapable -- if anything the whole premise is built on it. the first winking reference to Silly Vapid Girls And Their Sartorial Fixations was sarcastic and funny, more a jab at what judy imagined jervis' misogynist thought process must be than anything else, but the continued winking references were less sarcastic and accordingly not very funny at all. again, a lot of her personality traits Mellow Out in a way that directly suggests they ought to be corrected, and i think this is one of the primary expressions of the novel's implicit misogyny: if judy continues to be willful and independent she can't marry and serve a husband, so she needs to learn humility, is more or less the thesis behind this transformation. it's kind of fucked when you consider how deep her self-esteem issues run; granted, she grows out of them once she begins to live a more independent life, but a kinder novel wouldn't have punished her for exercising this newfound confidence and agency when her prospective stalker-husband didn't much like it.

in that regard ive been thinking all morning (well, i just got up, it's morning for me) about a particular letter where judy is lamenting the trouble in writing her novel. with a bit of distance and a good night's sleep it strikes me as very unintentional and very telling Hand Of The Author; judy complains to mr. long-legs that she cannot make her heroine behave as she wants her to. i think this is kind of a twofold telling on oneself moment. on the one hand, it comes directly after a spat over judy disobeying mr. long-legs about where she ought to summer -- given his sort of shadowy manipulations and insistence on controlling her behavior, he's certainly having this issue, and webster may have meant this bit intentionally. i think it's also a problem webster, perhaps, was having -- given this girl who has every reason in the world to want to make her own decisions rather than have them handed down by a stranger, how can i possibly frame her as in the wrong and convince her to obey her love interest slash idealized father figure? the answer the text so helpfully supplies is Because He Is A Man

there's really this undercurrent beyond the "haha look at her she's such a fun liberated ragamuffin!" bent that essentially puts forward that she's allowed to be this way, temporarily, because it is silly. it's such a clever little joke for her to mention wanting the vote! the humor in her implying she might be a valuable citizen is of course that women are barred from civic participation due to their Silliness! she has got such funny ideas! isn't it so hilarious that she has any political thoughts at all? heehee! oh, judy! i found this insufferable

closing out, there's a passage where she mentions that she's found out jervis is a socialist. she thinks she might agree, but she'd like to investigate a little more to make a decision on what type of socialism she finds most compelling. in the end, she says this:

Hooray! I ’m a Fabian. That ’s a Socialist who ’s willing to wait. We don’t want the social revolution to come to-morrow morning; it would be too upsetting. We want it to come very gradually in the distant future, when we shall all be prepared and able to sustain the shock.

i think that is the thesis of this novel more than anything else. perhaps one day women might be given the latitude of independent thought and expression, and not need to revere their husbands as godlike father-authorities. but not here, in 1912, in this novel.

[todomitoukei]

Japanese vs. English Todoroki - A 301 Comparison

Finally, for the first time since this manga has begun - and it only took 300 chapters to get here - we get an entire chapter that is solely about the Todoroki family! As I read through the chapter and started to type down the Japanese text, I asked myself which scenes I should translate. And so here we are with me having translated every single line. With that, this is a long post. Long. You have been warned. So let’s get right into it:

The chapter starts out with a flashback to Endeavor speaking with Rei’s father to get his approval to marry Rei:

「次期No.1の呼び声高いエンデヴァー様からお声掛けいただけるとは夢にも思いませんでした！僥倖の極みにございます！！」

「次期 ; jiki 」-> next term

「No.1 ; nanbaa wan 」-> number one

「呼び声高い ; yobigoe takai 」-> being widely talked about as a prominent prospect (for)

「エンデヴァー様 ; endevaa sama 」-> Endeavor-Sama

「から ; kara 」-> from

「お声掛け ; okoegake 」-> greeting; approaching (someone)

「いただける ; itadakeru 」-> receive (potential form)

「とは ; to wa」-> adds emphasis to the prior word/phrase

「夢にも思いませんでした ; yume ni mo omoimasen deshita 」-> I never dreamed that; not in one’s wildest dreams

「僥倖 ; gyoukou 」-> good fortune

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「極み ; kiwami 」-> height; extremity

「に ; ni 」-> at

「ございます ; gozaimasu 」-> to be

= “I never dreamed that we would receive greetings from Endeavor-Sama, who is widely talked about as a prominent prospect for the next term’s Number One position. We are at the height of good fortune!!”

It’s kinda sad if the height of your good fortune is meeting Endeavor. I also wonder how he reached out to them? “Hi, I need a wife with an ice quirk, do you have one?” How did he even search them? Is there some kind of registry that tells you which family has which quirk? 

Anyway, we then learn a little about Rei’s family:

「氷叢もかつては名家と呼ばれた由緒ある家柄にございます故―

トップヒーロー様の伴侶としましては充分に釣り合いがとれるものと。。。」

「氷叢 ; himura 」-> Himura

「も ; mo 」-> also

「かつて ; katsute 」-> once; before; formerly

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「名家 ; meika 」-> noble family; distinguished family

「と呼ばれた ; to yobareta 」-> was called

「由緒ある ; yuisho aru 」-> prestigious; with a long history

「家柄 ; iegara」-> social standing of a family; lineage

「に ; ni 」-> from

「ございます ; gozaimasu 」-> to be

「故 ; yue 」-> reason; cause; circumstances

「トップヒーロー様 ; toppu hiro sama 」-> Top Hero-Sama

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「伴侶 ; hanryo 」-> spouse

「としまして ; to shimashite 」-> to take as

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「充分に ; juubun ni 」-> sufficient; enough (the ni turns this word into an adverb)

「釣り合い ; tsuriai 」-> balance

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「とれる ; toreru 」-> to be attained (of balance)

「ものと ; mono to 」-> shall; to assume; understood as

= “The Himura family was also once called a noble family. It’s a lineage with a long history - so to take her as a top hero’s spouse shall be a sufficiently attained balance.”

Something I would like to note here is something that is difficult to properly translate, which is the politeness level. There are a lot of different politeness levels to show the different social ranks. We don’t know how Rei’s father normally speaks, but he probably talks politely here to show respect to a top hero, which also makes this seem more like a business deal rather than a familiar conversation with your future father-in-law.

Anyway, we then get a little bit of narration from Endeavor:

「氷のような女だった」

「氷 ; koori 」-> ice

「のような ; no you na 」-> similar to; like

「女 ; onna 」-> woman

「だった ; datta 」-> was

= “She was a woman like ice.”

Ah, the classic “this woman doesn’t immediately worship me so she has no feelings” attitude. Not that I can say that I’m surprised he’d say something like that. And look at her. She looks so unhappy! Why are there people reading this chapter and claiming that this wasn’t a forced marriage when she looks like that? She clearly didn’t truly want this herself. This is also confirmed in the next line:

「“個性婚”である事も承知の上で。。。。。。家の為に俺の妻になると言う。」

「個性婚 ; koseikon 」-> quirk marriage

「である ; de aru 」-> is; be

「事 ; de aru koto 」-> nominalizes the preceding phrase

「も ; mo 」-> also

「承知の上で ; shouchi no ue de 」-> being aware of; taking something into account

「家 ; ie 」-> family

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「為に ; tame ni」-> for the sake of

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「妻 ; tsuma 」-> wife

「になる ; ni naru 」-> to become

「と言う ; to iu」-> to say

= “She is also aware that this is a quirk marriage... she says she will become my wife for the sake of her family.”

De aru is a formal way used to express that someone is explaining something and makes it a neutral, official-sounding statement.

It’s not entirely clear to me how she knows that this is a quirk marriage, though. Did Endeavor just tell her? Did he tell her father? Does she just know?

It still leaves me baffled how some people read this sentence and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a forced marriage just because she agreed to it. I’m actually kind of sensing a pattern here: first, we learn that Rei agreed to have more children, so people claimed she wanted to have all these kids with him. Now, she apparently wanted to marry him out of her own will. I cannot stress this enough, but please please understand that if you do something “for the sake of your family” or generally for the sake of someone else, it doesn’t mean you actually want it yourself. If you live your life basing your decisions on what makes the people around you happy, you will not be happy. It’s one thing to be selfless, but another to never live for your own sake.

The only reason Endeavor decided to have a wife, specifically Rei, was for his own selfish goals. And the only reason Rei agreed, despite knowing she was being heavily objectified and reduced to her quirk here, was to please her family. However, this in no way indicates what her true feelings are. 

「。。。花が好きか」

「花 ; hana 」-> flowers

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「好き ; suki 」-> to like

「か ; ka 」-> question marker particle

= “... Do you like the flowers?”

A pretty straight-forward sentence.

「はい。とても綺麗。 」

「はい ; hai 」-> yes

「とても ; totemo 」-> very

「綺麗 ; kirei 」-> pretty; beautiful; lovely

= “Yes. They’re very pretty.”

Can I just say that she looks so sad here? There is something very lonely about her expression and the way she looks at these flowers. I’ve mentioned it before in another post, but the flowers Rei likes so much are Rindou, and the meaning of them is “I love you who is sad”, “justice”, or “sincere; faithful” - this would probably be more something to talk about in a separate meta on Rei, but I think maybe she identifies with those flowers in a way? She doesn’t seem happy - and granted, who would be in her situation? Maybe her whole life has been sort of dictated by her family and about pleasing them instead of ever being truly happy. These flowers are a common theme in terms of their relationship, so it’s likely that here, she is the one who is sad and maybe she just wants to be loved despite knowing this marriage isn’t based on love. She might still be hopeful that it will turn into love eventually and for now, she just enjoys the thought that someone might love someone as sad and unhappy as her.

「強く。。。しかし触れれば溶けて消えてしまいそうな。。。」

「強く ; tsuyoku 」-> strong

「しかし ; shikashi 」-> however

「触れれば ; furereba 」-> to touch; to come in contact with (conditional form)

「溶けて ; tokete 」-> to melt

「消えて ; kiete 」-> ; to vanish

「しまい ; shimai 」-> to do something completely

「そうな ; souna 」-> it seems

= “Strong… however, she seems like she would completely melt and vanish if I touched her.”

Then… don’t. Anyway, as mentioned in other posts, a verb + shimau means either that something that was done was regrettable or that it was done completely. Shimai is the polite version of this same concept. Back to the present:

「冷。。。！おまえ。。。大丈夫。。。なのか」

「冷 ; rei 」-> Rei

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「大丈夫 ; daijoubu 」-> alright

「なのか ; nanoka 」-> question marker particle seeking an explanation

= “Rei…! You… are you alright?”

The no itself is already a question marker, but men often add ka to it to make it more ~manly~

「大丈夫じ���ないよ」

「大丈夫 ; daijoubu 」-> alright

「じゃない」-> am not

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

= “I’m not alright!”

I’m not sure what kind of answer he expected, to be honest, but I think we can all appreciate Rei here. The official translation did a good job capturing that emphasis of yo by having her say “Okay? No, I’m not.” which bolds her statement a little more.

「だから来たの」

「だから ; dakara 」-> that’s why

「来た ; kita 」-> came; arrived

「の ; no 」-> explanatory particle

= “That’s why I came.”

Other people have already pointed out how this line is similar to All Might’s catchphrase, which is 「私が来た」 - watashi ga kita. Obviously, she doesn’t say that exact line - although that would have been absolutely hilarious to see, just imagine you see your wife after ten years of her being in a mental hospital because of you and your obsession with your rival only for her to quote your rival’s catchphrase at you? Iconic! Anyway, it still has that same feeling to it.

Another thing worth noting is how much her expression here differs from the earlier flashbacks. 

The panel of her looking at the flowers is a high-angle shot, which is used to make the subject seem inferior and looked down on. Additionally, that shot is from Endeavor’s POV, which is to give us a sense to show us how he viewed her - inferior. He is the hero and he is the one planning on using her to gain more power for himself. He made the decision to get a wife and thus initiated this whole relationship.

In this panel, though, we look at her with an eye-level shot. This is a neutral perspective, so it’s neither a superior or inferior situation, but there is still a specific atmosphere being created, usually done to make the viewer connect with the character and sort of having the character’s emotions be projected onto the viewer, especially in uncomfortable scenarios. To intensify this, we are staring directly at her. In the flashback, she is also turned to the side, so we don’t see her full face. Instead, she is avoiding eye contact and instead, is looking down at the flowers. Showing a character from the side creates a distance and makes it less clear what the character truly thinks.

But here, she is fully facing the viewers and staring directly at us. As mentioned before, this angle is meant to make you feel what the characters feel, especially when there’s an uncomfortable atmosphere. So here, when she says “That’s why I came” it’s supposed to make you uncomfortable. The “I am not alright” isn’t because her supposedly dead son turned out to be alive and a villain - she is not alright because of all the pain each of them endured for the past decade because of Endeavor. She lost ten years of her life, precious time with her kids, missed seeing them grow up, because of him. She wasn’t able to be there for them because of him. So no, she is not alright. But now she is out. And now she can finally regain some power. Power she never had in this relationship and possibly never had in her whole life. But now she is here. She is here because she feels guilty for what happened to her son, but she isn’t going to just give up. She is holding herself accountable, but she is making sure Endeavor knows he is the culprit. He is supposed to be uncomfortable and so should you (to understand that Endeavor is not the victim here) and anyone who sees that panel and thinks she is being supportive of him here? She isn’t.

I’ve seen a lot of people either claim that she is supporting Endeavor here or people say that she is being too soft on him here. While I don’t really see how this could possibly be her supporting him, I definitely do agree that Horikoshi seems to avoid wanting anyone directly pointing a finger at Endeavor, which is odd considering throughout the whole story everyone in the Todoroki family has always only ever blamed Endeavor. Dabi made it very clear in his broadcast that he wants to destroy Endeavor, Shouto always blamed Endeavor for his scar and for Rei being in the mental hospital, Natsuo can’t even have one dinner with Endeavor because he has always been neglected by him and because he blames Endeavor for what happened with Touya - rightfully so, by the way, Touya being alive doesn’t exactly change that Endeavor destroyed Touya. And given how Horikoshi writes female characters in general, it’s not really surprising that the only ones who don’t actively speak out against and blame Endeavor are the women of the family.

But while I do think that Horikoshi is toning down on that here and I don’t wanna give him too much credit, we should also keep in mind that this is the first time in ten years that Rei talks to him. Just a few months prior, when Fuyumi and Natsuo visited her, she said that she was still afraid to see him. I think it’s actually more realistic that she isn’t yelling at him or anything like that, yet is still able to at least put him in his place and remind him that this isn’t about him.

And that’s the other reason why I think it makes sense she reacts the way she does. It’s not about him, but this is also not about her. The last line of chapter 300 was saying “I’m here to talk about our family and Touya.” This isn’t about any of them individually except for Touya (more on that later). So if she gave an entire speech here about how much pain Endeavor has caused her and how he took ten years of her life away, this simply isn’t the time. Instead, she is prioritizing Touya.

Could she be a bit more clear that Endeavor is the culprit who caused them all a lot of pain and trauma? Yes, apparently she needs to say this more clearly considering how many people absolutely fail to interpret this correctly by claiming they are a happy family. But it’s not the most unrealistic way to write her here, either.

But let’s move on to Dabi and where the main criticism for the official translation comes in:

「だいぶ焼けたな。。。」

「だいぶ ; daibu 」-> considerably; greatly; a lot

「焼けた ; yaketa 」-> burned

「な ; na 」-> sentence ending particle; usually used to seek confirmation

= “Burned a lot, huh…”

Someone recently pointed out to me that Dabi’s staples might actually just be there for him to check how much his scars are spreading. And that really does seem to be the case now as he has simply moved them to the new edges of the scars. The new burns aren’t yet as intense as the rest, so I guess those aren’t skin grafts that need to be held in place, after all, but just his skin heavily burned?

As mentioned above, na gets used at the end of a statement to seek confirmation, however, it can also be used in a more rhetorical sense to make a sentence less assertive in order to simply introduce a topic in a more casual and less abrupt way.

「何も感じねぇ」

「何も ; nanimo 」-> (not) anything

「感じねぇ ; kanjinee 」-> not feeling

= “I don’t feel anything.”

The normal negation of kanjiru (to feel) is kanjinai. Changing the nai into nee is a more casual form, but it can also be used instead of nai to add more emotion/feeling to what is being said, which is kinda ironic in a sentence talking about his inability to feel anything.

Dabi generally uses both forms (nai and nee) for negation so it’s hard to say if this is just him negating a word or if this form gets used to put more emotion to it, though it’s probably a mixture of both considering he is just lying there and reflecting on the situation.

More importantly, this sentence reminded me of what he said to Shouto in chapter 292 「そうだよ焦凍。兄ちゃん何も感じなくなっちまった。」- “That’s right, Shouto. Nii-Chan has completely stopped feeling anything.”

While the line from chapter 292 is referring to his mental state, he is now talking about his physical state. So basically, Dabi is completely numb - both physically and mentally. Fun times!

「あいつは俺の親父だ。あの程度で死ねるようなタマじゃねえ。例え死にたくても立場がそれを許さない。」

「あいつ ; aitsu 」-> he; that guy

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「親父 ; oyaji 」-> dad

「だ ; da 」-> be

「あの ; ano 」-> that

「程度 ; teido 」-> degree; amount

「で ; de 」-> by; of

「死ねる ; shineru 」-> to die (potential form)

「ような ; youna 」-> like; similar to

「タマ ; tama 」-> person (when commenting on their nature); character

「じゃねえ ; janee」-> isn’t

「例え死にたくても」-> even if you want to die (例え...ても + 死にたく)

「立場 ; tachiba 」-> position; situation

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「それ ; sore 」-> that

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「許さない ; yurusanai 」-> doesn’t allow

= “That guy is my dad. He isn’t the kind of person to die from something of that degree. Even if he wanted to die, the situation doesn’t allow that.”

A few things to note here:

First of all, and I know this is a big shocker to us all, and it does pain me to say, but he does not say “adios” here. He really just says “want to die” and, although this is such an unimportant change it’s just really annoying to constantly see him being translated in such a weird way. Even minor changes like this one just make him sound strange. Dabi is someone who chooses his words carefully, so it really does alter people’s perception of him when he suddenly starts speaking like that. Does anyone actually talk like that?

“He isn’t the person to die from something of that degree” - Here, Dabi uses “tama” which is usually written in Kanji, but is written in Katakana here for emphasis. More importantly, though, this is a derogatory term.

Anyway, that sentence follows after the obvious statement of “That guy is my dad” - which isn’t new information to us, but this is the reason why he concludes that Endeavor hasn’t died without actually having that confirmed. He is able to tell how much damage Endeavor can take, possibly also stating here that as long as Dabi himself doesn’t die from his attack, Endeavor also wouldn’t have died. So much for his self-confidence! The “dear old dad” in the official translation yet again sounds a bit odd. It might be used to make a more clear distinction between otousan and oyaji, but much like boku and ore (male pronouns), you don’t really need to make a distinction in English because it’s just something unique to Japanese, and trying to translate it results in something like “dear old dad” which just makes the character sound weird because no one says that in English.

“The situation doesn’t allow it” - while the fan translation went for “I won’t allow it” the official translation went for “His position won’t allow it” - all of which are different statements. It’s hard to determine which of these is correct since there isn’t a pronoun used here. The reason I went for “the situation” is because it seems like he is referring to the current state the country is in. We’ve already been shown how much damage has done and the “I am not here” statue shown in the previous chapter is a good summary of that. Although it’s unlikely that Endeavor could do much to make things go back to how they used to be before the reveal, the country is still waiting for his statement, which will further impact the situation. If he died now, it would probably be the end for heroes, whereas him being alive and trying to somehow save the country could bring a little hope back to the people. So basically, the future depends on him (not really, but that’s the general idea here).

「そろそろ表に出てくる頃合いだ。」

「そろそろ ; sorosoro」-> gradually; soon

「表 ; omote 」-> surface

「に ; ni 」-> to

「出てくる ; detekuru 」-> to come out; to appear

「頃合い ; koroai 」-> suitable time; good time

「だ ; da 」-> be

= “Soon it’s a good time to come to the surface.”

Much like the rest of the country, Dabi is clearly also awaiting Endeavor’s statement to the public so he can plan his next move.

Something to note here is that these two panels use the thinking speech bubbles, so we have two different kinds of internal monologues from Dabi in this scene: interior monologue and soliloquy. Soliloquy refers to a speech given to oneself out loud, which is why this is commonly found in plays in order to show what a character is thinking since you can’t make the audience hear the character’s thoughts otherwise. 

An interior monologue gives us readers immediate access to a character’s unfiltered thoughts. Since we don’t exactly control our thoughts, we often jump from one thought to another without explaining how we got there. So when Dabi thinks “That guy is my dad.” followed by “He isn’t the kind of person to die from something of that degree.” - he doesn’t have to go into an elaborate explanation as to why the second sentence is the conclusion of his first statement because he just knows.

A soliloquy isn’t too different as the character is still their own audience. However, this style is often used to amplify a character’s thoughts, in a way signaling that they can’t keep their thoughts inside anymore so instead they just come out of the character’s mouth. Using these two styles here emphasizes the soliloquy even further. While his interior monologue is a reflection of what happened and tells us that Dabi already knew he wasn’t going to kill Endeavor back then, the soliloquy part focuses more on his actual feelings. This last part of his interior monologue, where he concludes that Endeavor will have to face the public soon, serves as a trigger of his following excitement, highlighting his obsession with making his dreams of ruining Endeavor come true.

「早く惨めな面が見てぇ楽しみだ。ここまで長かった。」

「早く ; hayaku 」-> soon; quick (adverb)

「惨めな ; mijime na 」-> miserable

「面 ; men 」-> face; mask

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「見てぇ ; mitee 」-> to see

「楽しみ ; tanoshimi 」-> anticipation; looking forward to

「だ ; da 」-> be

「ここまで ; koko made 」-> so far

「長かった ; nagakatta 」-> was long (time)

= “I’m looking forward to seeing your miserable face soon. It’s been a long time so far.”

Here we have another case of the official English translation making him talk in ways no one talks. Aside from the “pathetic mug” part, Dabi doesn’t say “damn” - considering swear words aren’t really a thing in Japanese anyway. But he’s also generally not really talking in a rude way here, it’s just a pretty straight-forward sentence. To be honest, I think the reason why certain characters (i.e. Dabi) get written like that™ is to add character and distinguish them from less casual-speaking characters? To show that this is a character that’s a bit on the rougher side? Even so, he doesn’t actually talk like that, and trying to make him sound rough in every single sentence is a bit of an overkill. I get that he’s dramatic, but that still doesn’t mean that he speaks like he never read a normal book.

To quickly bring up the soliloquy again: You can see with this sentence that this is far more subjective. “Soon it’s a good time to come to the surface” was somewhat objective as the whole country awaits Endeavor’s public statement to this situation. But “I’m looking forward to seeing your miserable face soon. It’s been a long time so far” is subjective. The public might not necessarily care about a hero being exposed. But Dabi cares because to him, this whole reveal is personal (obviously). This plan has been in the making for around ten years, whereas the rest of the country was unaware of the truth about Endeavor up until a few days ago.

「轟炎司。お母さん。冬美ちゃん。夏くん。。。。。。焦凍。」

「轟炎司 ; todoroki enji 」-> Enji Todoroki 

「お母さん ; okaasan 」-> mom

「冬美ちゃん ; fuyumi chan」-> Fuyumi-Chan

「夏くん ; natsu kun」-> Natsu-Kun

「焦凍 ; shouto 」-> Shouto

= “Enji Todoroki. Mom. Fuyumi-Chan. Natsu-Kun….. Shouto.”

While we can’t exactly blame the official translation for not including these suffixes, the distinction with Shouto doesn’t really show in the translation at all. Endeavor is an obvious one in either version - addressing your parent by full name indicates a distance as this shows no signs of familiarity. Much like his other siblings (I will talk about this at some point in a separate post) he calls his mom okaasan, a pretty normal way to say mom. As the older sibling, he wouldn’t have to use a suffix for any of his siblings, but this can - especially in a case like this - show familiarity. Aside from the many many dots representing a small pause he makes before even naming Shouto almost like he initially forgot about him, Shouto is also the only one only being called by name without a suffix, so the distinction becomes far more pronounced. It’s obvious that Touya, Fuyumi, and Natsuo grew up together and spent a lot of time together, thus he still uses these suffixes. But Shouto is just… Shouto. There is no relationship between them and the many dots just show this distance between the two.

「俺を見てくれ地獄の底で。」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「見てくれ ; mitekure 」-> please look at me

「地獄 ; jigoku 」-> hell

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「底 ; soko 」-> bottom

「で ; de 」-> in

= “Please look at me in the depths of hell.”

The kure at the end of mitekure gets used when asking a favor from someone.

The official translation yet again sounds a bit weirder with the “Take a real good look at me” when kure is more of a “Please look at me” which sounds less assertive. Anyway, Dabi is clearly trying to state that his life is hell and now they get to see it, too. At the end of the chapter, Rei says that she and Endeavor both didn’t look at him before and there are several times during the flashback where Touya says “look at me!” which is all a summary of where this whole thing went wrong: Touya was in pain, and he made it known that he needed help and that he wasn’t okay, but both his parents ignored that. And so now his broadcast forces them to look at him. Forces them to look at what happened as a result of them ignoring his pain before. It’s not just to show the civilians how their heroes aren’t all that heroic, but more importantly, it’s so that someone can see his pain. He’s not giving them a choice, either. Though people - both in bnha society and in the fandom - write Dabi off as annoying or continue to refuse to see him as a victim, it really doesn’t matter because what he has accomplished is making people experience his pain. He is damaging society just how society has damaged him. Just how his father said “you’re not good enough” it’s now Dabi’s turn to say the same thing to him and society.

Dabi is already in the depths of hell, yet so far his family didn’t know that. But now they do and now they have to face the facts.

「せっかく休みなんだから“個性”訓練付き合ってよ！！何で急にダメとか言うんだよ！！」

「せっかく ; sekkaku 」-> after all the effort

「休み ; yasumi 」-> rest; holiday

「なんだから ; nandakara 」-> so

「“個性” ; kosei 」-> quirk

「訓練 ; kunren 」-> training

「付き合って ; tsukiatte 」-> to go along with; to follow someone’s lead

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

「何で ; nande 」-> why

「急に ; kyuu ni 」-> suddenly

「ダメ ; dame 」-> no good

「とか ; toka 」-> and so on; such as

「言う ; iu 」-> to say; to mean

「んだ ; nda 」-> used for emphasis when information has been shared

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

= “You have a day off, so come do quirk training with me after all that effort!! Why do you suddenly say things like it’s no good!!”

Sekkaku doesn’t have a direct translation, but here it emphasizes that an opportunity has come up (Endeavor having a day off), which would be a shame to waste by not spending it with training. The nanda in nandakara is a preliminary remark, which can be used to get the listener’s attention to the conclusion that follows after. Again, these are nuances that you can’t necessarily translate. But at least little Touya talks more like a normal person than Dabi.

「何度も言ったろう。おまえの為なんだ。」

「何度も ; nando mo 」-> many times over; often

「言ったろう ; ittarou 」-> told; said

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「為 ; tame 」-> advantage; benefit

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

= “I’ve told you many times. It’s for your benefit.”

The tarou ending in ittarou is used to add an accusatory tone to the phrase, so it shows somewhat of an impatience/annoyance here. Imagine being Touya. You always look forward to your training days with your incredible dad. And suddenly, he keeps canceling on you and just says “it’s for your own good” - kids aren’t stupid, and they know when they are treated as though they were. So it’s obviously frustrating that his dad just gives him weak excuses instead of being honest with him. And it’s not like Endeavor is seeking an actual way to help Touya. All he does is go to the doctor, gets told that Touya’s body and quirk don’t match, and then his solution is to stop training him. It’s one thing to be a concerned parent and keep your child away from harm, but it’s more important to think about how you keep them from harm and whether or not you ensure that they know that failing doesn’t mean that they are a failure. Problem is, Endeavor can’t tell him he’s not a failure since Touya is a failed project so he does, in fact, see him as a failure.

If you take a quick look at Touya, you can see his hair is only now starting to get a few white spots. It’s difficult to determine the exact timeline of things, but it’s obvious that this takes place only shortly after his hair first started turning white, which means that Endeavor went to the doctor pretty quickly. And yes, he says this is for Touya’s sake but remind me again why Touya is born? Oh right, for Endeavor’s sake! Anyway, moving on to the doctor’s office:

「珍しい例ですね。。。炎の個性因子はより色濃く引き継がれているのですが。肉体はお母さんの方を強く引き継いでしまってるんです」

「珍しい ; mezurashii 」-> rare

「例 ; rei 」-> instance; case

「です ; desu 」-> to be

「ね ; ne 」-> sentence ending particle; used to seek confirmation

「炎 ; honou 」-> flame

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「個性 ; kosei 」-> quirk

「因子 ; inshi 」-> factor

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「より ; yori 」-> than

「色濃く ; irokoku 」-> strongly tending to

「引き継がれている ; hikitsugareteiru 」-> inheriting (present progressive passive form)

「のです ; no desu 」-> explanatory particle

「が ; ga 」-> but

「肉体 ; nikutai 」-> the body; the flesh

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「お母さん ; okaasan 」-> mom

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「方 ; hou 」-> type

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「強く ; tsuyoku 」-> strong (adverb)

「引き継いでしまってるん ; hikitsuide shimatterun 」-> completely inheriting

「です ; desu 」-> to be

= “A rare case, isn’t it? The flame quirk factor is more strongly inherited, but the body is strongly and completely inherited from the mother’s type.”

In the last part, we once again have the verb + shimau constellation, which always either indicates that something happened regrettable or completely. In a way, both meanings apply here since Touya’s body fully takes after Rei’s constitution, but this is also obviously regrettable since it’s a waste of his strong fire quirk. In the official translation, he just says “he takes after his mother physically” which doesn’t really carry either nuance.

「つまり。。。炎への体制よりも氷結。。。寒さに適性のある身体なんです。」

「つまり ; tsumari 」-> that is to say; in other words

「炎 ; honou 」-> flame

「への ; e no 」-> particle that describes the word that follows using the direction towards the word that comes before

「体制 ; taisei 」-> order ; system

「よりも ; yorimo 」-> in comparison to; rather than

「氷結 ; hyouketsu 」-> freezing; freezing over

「寒さ ; samusa 」-> coldness

「に ; ni 」-> for (purpose)

「適性 ; tekisei 」-> aptitude; suitability

「のある ; no aru 」-> there is

「身体 ; karada 」-> body

「なんです ; nandesu 」-> explanatory particle

= “In other words, it’s a body with an aptitude for the cold rather than being a system to the flames.”

Considering all the support items the heroes have, I feel like they could have found a solution to this. Dabi’s current coat helps cool him down, so why did Endeavor not think of something like that?

「まア。。。デザインじみたことはね。。。この“個性”時代禁忌なんで。。。やめといた方が。。。 」

「まア ; maa 」-> well

「デザイン ; dezain 」-> design

「じみた ; jimita 」-> like

「こと ; koto 」-> thing

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「ね ; ne 」-> sentence ending particle; used to seek confirmation

「この ; kono 」-> this

「“個性” ; kosei 」-> quirk

「時代 ; jidai 」-> period

「禁忌 ; kinki 」-> taboo

「なんで ; nande 」-> because

「やめ ; yame 」-> to stop

「といた ; to ita」-> to do something in advance (contraction of te oita)

「方が ; hou ga 」-> should; it’d be better to (used to give advice)

= “Well… design-like things, huh… because this taboo of the “quirk” period… It’d be better to stop in advance.”

I feel like a normal doctor should maybe inform someone that this Top Hero is having a little eugenics project on the side. Maybe also call Child Protective Services. But since we’re all assuming this doctor is Dr. Ujiko, it’s not exactly surprising that he left it at “giving advice” which he is just as good at as Endeavor. Those two would truly get along well.

「なんと今日は６２もの市町村を救いました！オールマイトがいる限り我々が悪に屈する事は決してないでしょう！！」

「なんと ; nanto 」-> what…!; surprisingly; believe it or not

「今日 ; kyou 」-> today

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「６２ ; 62 」-> 62 

「も ; mo 」-> emphasizes the number

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「市町村 ; shichouson 」-> cities, towns and villages

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「救いました ; sukuimashita 」-> saved

「オールマイト ; oorumaito 」-> All Might

「がいる ; ga iru 」-> there is

「限り ; kiri 」-> as long as

「我々 ; wareware 」-> we

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「悪 ; aku 」-> evil

「に ; ni 」-> to

「屈する ; kussuru 」-> to yield; to give in

「事 ; koto」-> nominalizes the verb it attaches to

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「決してない ; kesshitenai 」-> never; by no means

「でしょう ; deshou 」-> used to express certainty

= “What! Today, 62 cities, towns, and villages were saved! We will certainly never give in to evil as long as All Might is there!”

The mo after the 62 implies that 62 is a large number and granted, that is a lot of places to save in one day. 

「燈矢。おまえならオールマイトを超えられる。」

「燈矢 ; touya 」-> Touya

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「なら ; nara 」-> on the topic of; if

「オールマイト ; oorumaito 」-> All Might

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「超えられる ; koerareru 」-> to surpass (potential)

= “Touya. You can surpass All Might.”

Let’s move on to some sibling interaction, though:

「冬美ちゃん。ちょっと火傷するくらいなのにさ！全然がまんできるのにさ！」

「冬美ちゃん ; fuyumi chan」-> Fuyumi

「ちょっと ; chotto 」-> a little

「火傷する ; yakedo suru」-> to burn

「くらい ; kurai 」-> used to describe a state, situation

「なのに ; nanoni 」-> even though; although

「さ ; sa 」-> emphasis particle

「全然 ; zen zen 」-> entirely; completely

「がまん ; gaman 」-> bearing (something)

「できる ; dekiru 」-> be able to

「のに ; noni 」-> used when complaining to someone

「さ ; sa 」-> emphasis particle; also used to let out emotions

= “Fuyumi-Chan. I only burn a little! I am able to endure it!”

Noni is something that roughly translates to even though, and usually gets followed with a second part of the phrase, but that follow-up part can be left out when you can understand it from context. So in that first part, he’s basically saying “Even though I got burned a little, I can still do this so he shouldn’t stop training me!” The second noni is used as a way to complain about the situation (= “Even though I am completely able to endure it, I get treated like I’m weak.”)

「俺の身体のことは俺が一番よくわかってるんだ。」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「身体 ; karada 」-> body

「のことは」-> nominalizes the preceding phrase

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「一番 ; ichiban 」-> the most

「よく ; yoku 」-> good (adverb)

「わかってるん ; wakatterun 」-> to understand; to know

「だ ; da 」-> be

= “I am the one that knows my body the best.”

We don’t know how fast his hair color was changing, but this is probably a few months after his hair first began to turn white. So at this point, Endeavor already knows that Touya’s body and quirk aren’t compatible yet still hasn’t bothered to come up with a solution. Instead, Touya keeps training. It’s odd that no one seems to try and properly stop him and make him understand that training isn’t good for him.

「でも冬美も燈矢兄ボロボロなの心配嫌っ。」

「でも ; demo 」-> but

「冬美 ; fuyumi」-> Fuyumi

「も ; mo 」-> also

「燈矢兄 ; touya-nii 」-> Touya-Nii

「ボロボロ ; boroboro 」-> worn-out (physically); tattered

「なの ; nano 」-> this particle functions as a substitute for a noun (= his body)

「心配 ; shinpai 」-> worry

「嫌っ ; yaa 」-> casual no

= “But Fuyumi also doesn’t [want to] worry about Touya-Nii [being] tattered.”

Me too, Fuyumi, me too.

「冬美ちゃんにはわかんねーよ！女の子にはわかんねンだ！」

「冬美ちゃん ; fuyumi chan」-> Fuyumi-Chan

「には ; niwa 」-> as for

「わかんねー」-> doesn’t understand

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

「女の子」->

「には ; niwa 」-> as for

「わかんね」-> doesn’t understand

「ンだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

= “Fuyumi doesn’t understand! Girls don’t understand!”

The n in nda is written in Katakana, once again for emphasis.

Also he looks so adorable the way he is marching out of the room there. Tiny Touya.

Still can’t believe some people in this fandom apparently were never (around) kids and somehow drew the conclusion that Touya is sexist. What a great takeaway from this entire chapter! Anyway, that’s just how kids talk - and definitely something brothers say to their sisters - but I’m pretty sure if he tried to say something like that now Fuyumi wouldn’t let him get away with it. But she’s like 2 (?) here, so not like she cares. Oh and… if you think “a girl wouldn’t get it” is sexist, then wouldn’t you also have that same energy in regards to a man solely getting a wife to use her as a baby-maker-machine, and then after putting her into a mental hospital proceeding to turn his only daughter (who was only created as emotional support person for her older brother) into a replacement for the mom? Yeah, I’m really surprised little Touya would say something that could be considered sexist...

「心配ちてんのに！！ 」

「心配ちてん ; shinpai chiten 」-> worrying

「のに ; noni 」-> used when complaining to someone

= “I’m worrying!!”

Here, little Fuyumi-Chan is basically complaining that Touya-Nii is mad and says she doesn’t understand, even though she is just worried about him. Everybody say “Thank you, Fuyumi!” for caring about Touya. Now, moving on to the actual sad panel:

「俺はもう「超えたい」って思ってるんだ！火をつけたのはお父さんだ！」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「もう ; mou 」-> already

「超えたい ; koetai 」-> want to surpass

「って思ってるん ; tte omotterun 」-> thinking

「だ ; da 」-> be

「火をつけた ; hi o tsuketa 」-> ignited

「のは ; no wa」->

「お父さん ; otousan 」-> dad

「だ ; da 」-> be

= “I’m already thinking ‘I want to surpass him’! Dad is the one that ignited that flame in me!”

He is crying! Already! He acted tougher before walking away, but now that he is facing away from Fuyumi, the tears start rolling in a very defensive way. It’s basically him knowing that he can’t live up to his father’s expectations, but this is what he wants. He “wants” to surpass All Might, but it’s Endeavor who ignited that fire in him. Kids oftentimes have one parent they are closer to and sometimes even look up to. For Touya, that’s obviously Endeavor. He wants to make his father proud and wants to be what his father wants him to be.

Clearly, he’s always been very smart and also very self-aware. He’s always known his limits, but also back then refused to admit to it because he still had hope that he would somehow be able to be this incredible hero, despite his limitations. He wasn’t willing to just give up back then, and even now in the present time, he doesn’t give up. He can’t just let go and move on with his life, because no one ever told him that was an acceptable option. Not performing well meant his father loved him less. That’s why he never gave up because a child naturally craves their parents’ attention and love, even if it isn’t a healthy love. So who would give up something if that would result in not being loved anymore?

「それは。。。あんまりだよ。。。！残酷じゃない！あなたが子どもに何を求めてるか燈矢はもう知ってる！」

「それ ; sore 」-> that

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「あんまり ; anmari 」-> too much

「だ ; da 」-> be

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

「残酷 ; zankoku 」-> cruel

「じゃない ; janai 」-> used to express emotion; when you want to accuse someone

「あなた ; anata 」-> you

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「子ども ; kodomo 」-> child

「に ; ni 」-> for

「何 ; nani 」-> what

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「求めてる ; motometeru 」-> searching for; seeking

「か ; ka 」-> represents the intention of a question

「燈矢 ; touya 」-> Touya

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「もう ; mou 」-> already

「知ってる ; shitteru 」-> to know

= “That is… too much…! It’s cruel! Touya already knows what you want children for!”

A difference I noticed between the original version and the official English translation is that in the official translation Rei says “That would be too cruel!” whereas in the original version she says “That is cruel!” accompanied by janai which is used when you want to accuse someone. The “would” seems a bit more like Endeavor merely suggested something, but it’s still undecided. In reality, he’s not asking for her permission. It’s not about what Rei wants, yet she is still trying to make him come back to his senses and realize what effects his actions have on Touya.

「どれだけ言っても。。。毎日新しい火傷をつくってくる。。。」

「どれだけ ; dore dake 」-> how much

「言っても ; ittemo 」-> although I say

「毎日 ; mainichi 」-> every day

「新しい ; atarashii 」-> new

「火傷 ; yakedo 」-> burn

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「つくってくる ; tsukuttekuru」-> continue to get (つくる + てくる)

= “Despite how much I say, he continues to get new burns every day.”

Well, the earlier advice of “it’s for your own good” isn’t exactly the best way to get your child to understand why it shouldn’t do something. There probably could’ve been a bit more initiative here, you know, like getting a therapist involved. Someone, who actually understands children and knows how to handle them.

「バカなところも俺に似た。。。！諦めさせるにはそれしかない。。。燈矢には。。。超えられない 。」

「バカ ; baka 」-> idiot

「なところ ; na tokoro」-> aspect; side

「も ; mo 」-> also; too

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「に似た ; ni nita」-> resembled

「諦めさせる ; akirameru 」-> make someone give up

「には ; niwa 」-> as for

「それ ; sore 」-> that

「しかない ; shika nai 」-> only

「燈矢 ; touya 」-> Touya

「には ; niwa 」-> as for

「超えられない ; koerarenai 」-> can’t surpass

= “He also resembles me with the idiot aspect…! That is the only way to make him give up… Touya can’t surpass him.”

Those last two panels honestly look straight out of a horror story. Is that the face of a loving family man? Apparently so!

These posts originally started out because of the bias and obviously, Dabi is still written weirdly, but I do have to point out that the official translation at least doesn’t make Endeavor sound nicer here than he actually is.

I also find it interesting how Rei is drawn here, with half her face being in a shadow, which is usually a style used to show a character’s sinister side. Here, it’s accompanied by a sweat drop, which often indicates exasperation. This might indicate the start of a turning point for her. And this turning point is something that you see over the following panels until it comes to a finale on everyone’s faces once Shouto is born:

Looking at their eyes, they all look less than fine here.

Touya just kinda stares lifelessly. As Rei stated in the previous scene, Touya already knows why he and his siblings exist. He already knew when Natsuo was born and thus, Natsuo’s existence was living proof that Touya was still not enough. Yet, he still refuses to give up and desperately tries to prove himself to his father. And then 3 ½ years later, another sibling arrives.

Rei has shading under her eye and her eyes only half-way open, indicating fatigue. Obviously, giving birth would do that, but she’s also just generally tired of this and probably began to understand how powerless she is. And Endeavor has his eyes wide-open with tiny pupils, often indicating a character’s drive (not in a good way). He knows this is the one.

「お父さん。俺も超えられるよ。ほら。。。こんなに強い炎が出せるようになったんだ 。俺のこと見てよ。 」

「お父さん ; otousan 」-> dad

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「も ; mo 」-> too

「超えられる ; koerareru 」-> can surpass

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

「ほら ; hora 」-> look!, hey!

「こんなに ; konna ni」-> such

「強い ; tsuyoi 」-> strong

「炎 ; honou 」-> flame

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「出せる ; daseru 」-> can produce; start (a fire)

「ようになったん ; you ni nattan 」-> have reached the point that

「だ ; da 」-> be

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「のこと ; no koto 」-> about

「見て ; mite 」-> look 

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

= “Dad. I can also surpass him. Look… I have reached the point that I can produce such strong flames. Look at me!”

Based on this scene we can conclude that Touya kept training on his own. Endeavor knows about this, yet never bothered to actually stop him from going out to train (just saying “don’t do this” isn’t enough).

You can just see the desperation on his face, completely ignoring the tears running down his face. He is already at a point here where his feelings start to be tuned out. The only thing that’s on his mind is his goal of proving himself as the worthy successor.

「ダメだ！何故わからん！そこまでの火傷を負って何故わからないんだ！！」

「ダメ ; dame 」-> no good

「だ ; da 」-> be

「何故 ; naze 」-> why

「わからん ; wakaran 」-> don’t understand

「そこまで ; sokomade 」-> that far

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「火傷 ; yakedo 」-> burn

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「負って ; otte 」-> receive (wound); injured

「何故 ; naze 」-> why

「わからない ; wakaranai 」-> don’t understand

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

= “No good! I don’t understand why! You get so many burns and still don’t understand!!”

Again, not a great way to get your kid to understand anything. Yelling isn’t helping, either! Neither is telling them you don’t understand why they don’t understand.

「燈矢。。。！！おまえは外を見ろ。冬美や夏雄と遊べ！！学校で友達をつくれ！ヒーロー以外にも。。。沢山の世界がある。。。わかるだろう！」

「燈矢 ; touya 」-> Touya

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「外 ; soto 」-> outside

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「見ろ ; miro 」-> look (imperative)

「冬美 ; fuyumi」-> Fuyumi

「や ; ya 」-> and

「夏雄 ; natsuo」-> Natsuo

「と ; to 」-> with

「遊べ ; asobe 」-> play (imperative)

「学校 ; gakkou 」-> school

「で ; de 」-> at

「友達 ; tomodachi 」-> friends

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「つくれ ; tsukure 」-> to make (imperative)

「ヒーロー ; hiro 」-> hero

「以外 ; igai 」-> excepting; with the exception of

「にも ; nimo 」-> as well

「沢山 ; takusan 」-> plenty; enough; a large number

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「世界 ; sekai 」-> world

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「ある ; aru 」-> be

「わかる ; wakaru 」-> to understand

「だろう ; darou 」-> don’t you agree

= “Touya…!! Look outside! Play with Fuyumi and Natsuo!! Make friends at school! There are other things than heroes… there are many worlds… you understand that, don’t you!”

The darou at the end here is a little assertive, like saying “This is how I see it and you should agree!” which is captured in the official translation by him saying “I know you understand” - which is a funny phrasing since Touya obviously doesn’t understand.

I get that being a hero is often reduced to just being about fighting, but how is this man so incapable of understanding his own child? He knows Touya goes out training regularly - and has been for years - and keeps coming home with burns and even after all this time Touya still doesn’t listen to him, and yet his incredible advice here is “Go get some friends!” Is that… helpful to anyone? No wonder he never got to the Number One position if that’s how he tries to save people.

There’s actually a chapter in the School Briefs light novels (no spoilers) that brings up this topic too: What kind of hero are you if you can’t even save your own family?

And we’re not talking about Touya being held at gunpoint or something; we’re talking about years and years of this child’s mental and physical health decreasing, very obviously so, and it’s not getting any better.

Touya doesn’t do this because he’s jealous because he already did all of this before any of his competitors (= Natsuo and Shouto) were born. He’s doing this because he is a child and like any other child out there just wants his parents’ love and attention, which is literally the parents’ whole job. Endeavor failed both as a father and a hero.

「そうしていく内に忘れる。」

「そうしていく ; soushiteiku 」-> continue to do so (そうする + ていく)

「内に ; uchi ni 」-> while

「忘れる ; wasureru 」-> to forget about it

= “While you continue to do so, you’ll forget about it.”

I don’t even know if he thinks this is good advice? Surely, no one could think this would be helpful here, right…?

「学校の子は皆ヒーローになるってさ。。。！。。。わかるはずないだろ。。。！」

「学校 ; gakkou 」-> school

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「子 ; ko 」-> kids

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「皆 ; minna 」-> everyone

「ヒーロー ; hiro 」-> hero

「になる ; ni naru 」-> to become

「って ; tte 」-> quotation marker

「さ ; sa 」-> emphasis particle

「わかる ; wakaru 」-> to understand

「はずない ; hazu nai 」-> cannot be 

「だろ ; daro 」-> right; I think

= “The kids at school all say they’ll become heroes…! I cannot understand, right?”

Hazu nai is used to strongly emphasize that something cannot be. In this case, Touya cannot possibly understand that concept of just letting go because this is his whole identity and you can’t just toss your whole identity away, especially when that identity is necessary in order to get your parents’ attention and love.

「俺はお父さんの子どもなんだから」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「お父さん ; otousan 」-> dad

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「子ども ; kodomo 」-> child

「なんだから ; nandakara 」-> because; after all

= “After all, I am your child.”

Nandakara has an important nuance that’s worth talking about it. It’s used to give an explanation or emphasize something that both the listener and speaker know and expresses a strong emotion that the speaker feels and that the listener doesn’t fully appreciate. Apparently, some people had an issue with the official translation here and claiming it sounded too accusatory. Anyway, this child has every right to accuse his father of expecting him to just give up on his attempt at reaching his goal when Endeavor got married and had four kids because he wasn’t immediately handed the Number One position. That sure is ironic and sad that little Touya understands this so well, too.

「冷やさなきゃ」

「冷やさなきゃ; hiyasanakya 」-> must cool; must calm down; must cool off (冷やす + なきゃ)

= “We must cool him off!”

This is a pun that also works in English! While the word hiyasu can mean to cool off in the sense of calming down, it can also mean to cool (from room temperature); to refrigerate. And both meanings are applicable here since Touya is having a breakdown and needs to be calmed down mentally, but he also seems to be sweating almost like his quirk is building up inside of him and about to boil over, which it then does as he tries to attack Shouto, so he also needs to be physically cooled down.

「お父さんが火をつけたんだ。。。！消えないんだよ。。。！！なかったことになんて。。。できないんだよ！」

「お父さん ; otousan 」-> dad

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「火をつけた ; hi wo tsuketa 」-> ignited

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

「消えない ; kienai 」-> won’t go out

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

「なかったことに ; nakatta koto ni 」-> to forget something ever existed; to pretend something didn’t happen

「なんて ; nante 」-> something like

「できない ; dekinai 」-> can’t

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

「よ ; yo 」-> emphasis particle

= “Dad ignited that fire in me…! It won’t go out…!! I can’t just pretend something like that never existed, you know!”

「俺を見てろよ。。。！！エンデヴァー　俺を見てろよ！！！」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「見てろよ ; mitero yo」-> just you wait and see (as a threat)

「エンデヴァー ; endevaa 」-> Endeavor

「俺 ; ore 」-> I 

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「見てろよ ; mitero yo」-> just you wait and see (as a threat)

= “Just look at me…!! Endeavor, just look at me!!!”

So mitero yo is an expression meaning “just you wait and see” and it consists of the imperative form on miteru (= you must be looking) and the yo emphasizes this more. “Just you wait and see” obviously sounds far more threatening (because it is) and also kind of makes sense when considering where they are now in the present time. Now - fifteen years or so later - Endeavor sees him. This goes back to the earlier part where Dabi said “Watch me from the depths of hell” - it’s a different form (in that part he says mitekure, while here he says mitero yo) but he’s always telling his family to look at him. Because, at the end of the day, that’s where it all went wrong. No one ever truly saw him and his pain until one day, he broke. What exactly is a child supposed to do? Endeavor has gotten away with not looking for too long, but Dabi won’t let him go on like that anymore.

And notice how he says the same line twice here? And in the middle he says “Endeavor” - for the first time, he addresses him by his hero name instead of calling him dad. This is because he isn’t just asking his father to look at him, but he’s also threatening Endeavor. I think this might actually hint that he’s already having thoughts of turning into a villain? Maybe he already thought about what it would be like to just turn himself into a villain and refuse Endeavor from reaching his goals just as Endeavor has refused Touya from reaching his goals. Whether he actively thought about this or whether that was more of a subconscious feeling is hard to say but it’s clear that at that point he already viewed Endeavor, the hero, as the bad guy that took his father away from him. If it wasn’t for Endeavor, the hero, then Touya wouldn’t have to prove his worth to his father by having a strong quirk.

「一番辛いのはあなたじゃないし。あの子を見なかったのはあなただけじゃない。」

「一番 ; ichiban 」-> the most; number one

「辛い ; tsurai 」-> painful; difficult (emotionally)

「のは ; no wa」-> nominalizer + topic marker

「あなた ; anata 」-> you

「じゃない ; janai 」-> aren’t

「し ; shi 」-> emphasizes the point you make

「あの ; ano 」-> that

「子 ; ko 」-> child

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「見なかった ; minakatta 」-> didn’t look

「のは ; no wa」-> nominalizer + topic marker

「あなた ; anata 」-> you

「だけ ; dake 」-> only

「じゃない ; janai 」-> aren’t

= “You are not the one with the most pain. You aren’t the only one that didn’t look at that child.”

This is another line where some people claimed the official translation made Rei sound harsher than she actually is. But I don’t think she’s even being harsh here? She’s just stating a fact. And just compare the two of them real quick: Rei just got out of the mental hospital she stayed in for ten years and upon finding out what really happened with Touya, immediately took responsibility and decided to do something. Endeavor, on the other hand, is crying in his hospital bed because suddenly he regrets that he failed as a parent for over twenty years. I don’t think she’s being harsh by telling him that he isn’t the one who is hurting the most when that’s just a fact. And the “you don’t get to claim” phrasing of the official translation isn’t really harsh, it’s just being direct. But Endeavor is a grown man and with all the pain he has caused his family, I think he can deal with not being handled like some fragile little thing.

What I find interesting about this line is that it’s essentially a continuation to what she said in the last chapter when she stated that “Everyone else is having those feelings a lot more than you” Now, she is adding to that because not only has the rest of the family suffered a lot more than Endeavor, but one person in particular - Touya - is currently in the most amount of pain out of any of them. Endeavor’s self-pity and regrets have no space here because Touya is the actual victim here, and not Endeavor for having been exposed for something he chose to do for over two decades.

They both never looked at that child, but now it’s time to change that and finally start looking at him.

There weren’t really a lot of changes in the translation - aside from our now Spanish-speaking amigo, Dabi - but there’s still a lot to talk about, as you can see by this very very long post. So if you read all of this, thank you! And also congrats for making it through! There’s always nuance that just doesn’t translate but is still important to mention and gives a better insight into the characters. This chapter was just the first part so chapter 302 will surely give us some more clarity, possibly even finally revealing what actually happened on the day Touya supposedly died. So now let’s see what the next chapter will bring. 

Adios~

[hanaasbananas]

Aftermath

Set immediately after let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke

AO3

She doesn’t move for hours.

Head resting on Adrien’s chest, she feels his blood seep into her hair, feels his body go slack, the arm around her shoulders loosening and falling away, feels him go cold beneath her fingertips.

Still, she does not get up.

Thunder rumbles above them, lightning flashing in the distance as the sky darkens, clouds growing heavy with rain before releasing a torrential downpour, soaking her in seconds.

And still, she does not get up.

But as the rain pounds down, Marinette lets herself cry once more, the storm hiding her tears and drowning out her screams.

***

A hand lands on her shoulder, squeezing gently when she flinches. “Sweetheart…”

Papa.

Of course. She’d dropped her transformation in the middle of an akuma battle. Of course he would have found out. Everyone must have found out.

She can’t bring herself to care.

“I can’t let go,” Marinette speaks for the first time in what feels like eternity, her throat hoarse from crying.

“You must,” Papa’s voice is gentle. “the cure, you need to cast it, set things to rights.”

Set things to rights. She almost laughs. As if anything could ever be right again.

“It won’t bring him back.”

A pause. “No, it won’t.”

“Then what's the point?”

***

Marinette doesn’t remember casting the cure.

She doesn’t remember being pulled to her feet and being carried to the car, or arriving home, where maman waits for her.

“Oh,” she breathes when she sees her, rushing forward and folding her into her arms. Marinette’s arms remain rigid by her side, but her legs crumple beneath her, and maman follows her to the ground,

Marinette doesn’t come back to herself until she’s in the bathtub, letting maman wash her clean.

“He was my soulmate,” she whispers, watching as the blood—Adrien’s blood— is sluiced from her skin. Maman inhales sharply beside her, pausing with the washcloth still in her hand. “He should have let it hit me.” Looking up, she meets mamans stricken gaze with her own.

“Why didn’t he let it hit me?”

***

The funeral is on a Friday.

Marinette sits at the back of the church, her face scrubbed clean, covered with a veil so that she won’t be recognised.

Félix gives her only the barest nod in acknowledgement. He doesn’t try to speak to her, and for that, she is glad.

After the burial, when the mourners have gone and the cemetery sits empty, she makes her way to his grave, sitting cross legged beside it.

“You know,” she says “I always knew we wouldn’t have a happy ending. Call me a pessimist but even so…” she swallows, reaching out to trace the words on his headstone. “I never imagined it would end like this.”

***

Time passes. Seasons change, autumn giving way to winter, melting into spring.

Her grief does not fade.

It is not a pretty thing, this grief of hers. It is not simple or elegant or something that she can hide. It is guttural and ugly, clinging to her, crawling over her skin and seeping deep into her bones.

She lies awake, night after night, tears soaking her pillow like summer rain. On some nights, when the pain is too much to bear, a heavy stone crushing her beneath its weight, Marinette wishes that she could simply reach into her chest and rip the beating heart out from within, feel it pulsing in her hand, blood dripping from her fingers and coating her arm. She wishes that she could take a knife and slice away the parts of her heart that ache and grieve for Adrien until the pain is gone.

She imagines that if she did, there would be nothing left of her heart at all.

***

A letter arrives for her on Adrien’s birthday.

There is no return address, and she doesn’t recognise the handwriting on the envelope. She does recognise the ring that falls out of it though.

Adrien’s ring. His miraculous.

Fingers closing around the ring, Marinette feels it cutting into her palm as she reads the enclosed note.

Father believes that you have this. I figured I may as well make that the truth.

Félix

She has both now.

The ladybug and the black cat. Heart beating rapidly in her chest, Marinette looks down at the ring, her mind racing at all the possibilities, the power she now holds.

She could do it. Make the wish. Bring him back.

But what would the cost be?

If it was her life, she would gladly give it. Even if she was granted only a few short moments to see him again.

But Marinette has wielded her own miraculous long enough to know that magic is a fickle thing, unpredictable and unconstrained by the laws of man.

No. The risk is too great; she cannot do it.

Legs bucking underneath her, Marinette sinks to the ground, clutching Adrien’s ring in her hand, and she weeps, her heart breaking anew.

***

Marinette isn’t sure what possesses her to go back to the apartment.

Masochism, she supposes. Maybe, it is because already, she struggles to recall the exact shade of Adrien’s eyes, the texture of his hair between her fingertips.

Whatever the reason, she stands now, in the doorway, surveying the place, a lump forming in her throat. Everything is as they left it. Her shawl is draped over the back of the couch; one of Adriens ties lies crumpled on the living room table beside an empty mug and a newspaper. If not for the fine layer of dust covering every surface she’d think they’d been here only hours before.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb anything, Marinette steps inside gingerly, wincing as the door slams shut behind her.

The apartment is thick with ghosts of the past, memories of all that they did here. She can almost hear their laughter, hear the music they’d dance to; can almost see the two of them pushing the sofa and table to the edges of the room to make space for dancing.

Sitting down heavily on the sofa, she surveys the room once more. Memories are important, she knows. God knows, she’s held onto them as tightly as she can, cherishing every new recollection, as though it is the most precious treasure.

But everytime she remembers something new, everytime she sifts through her memories, going over their time together like a film reel, Marinette wishes that Adrien would come to her instead.

***

“Marinette,” the whisper comes late at night, rousing her from a restless sleep. It’s not unusual to hear his voice—she’s dreamt of that smooth cadence a thousand times before, over and over, but always—absolutely without fail—the illusion falls silent, dissipating the second that she opens her eyes, leaving her cold and alone.

This time however, feels strange. Different.

Lying motionless, Marinette hardly dares to breathe, hands trembling at her sides as she strains her ears in the silence, hoping, praying for his voice to come again.

It isn’t real, she knows, but she craves it nonetheless.

“Marinette,” his breath ghosts over her skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. “This is real.” His voice is laced with amusement “open your eyes.”

“No,” she says stubbornly. And then, more plaintively: “I don’t want you to disappear.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Hands, smooth and strong, reach to touch her. They stroke her face gently, reassuringly, turning her face to the side. Cold lips brush against her closed eyelids and she shudders, exhaling shakily.

Maybe it is real. Maybe...

Opening her eyes, Marinette blinks in the darkness, a small gasp escaping her lips at the sight in front of her.

For a long moment, she can do nothing but gaze at him, drinking in his features. He’s still beautiful; as beautiful as she remembered. Regarding her steadily, the entrancing depth of his dark, luminous green eyes and the ethereal glow of his hair in the moonlight filtering through her window makes sets her heart racing.

He says nothing, simply smiles at her and her breathing quickens. Oh, his smile! How she had missed his smile; it was like the sun. It warmed her like nothing else. Looking at him, it feels like she is finally seeing in colour again—shades of gold, yellow, and green all blooming before her.

Sitting up on her knees, tears spill from her eyes as he reaches out to cup a hand against her cheek. She covers her hand over his, pressing it harder against her cheek until she feels a dull pain from the pressure-a welcome pain, telling her that he is here, that she can feel his touch once more.

“Hello, doll.”

Something in her breaks—a dam bursting in her chest at the endearment.

Her sobs are violent, and Adrien pulls her towards him, into his arms, but she resists, refusing to let him out of her sight for even one second. Despite the fact that fat, hot tears are blurring her vision, she keeps her eyes locked on his, as if he might disappear forever as soon as she blinks.

Still smiling, Adrien runs his hand along her shoulder, consoling her.

“You will be alright, my love.”

“I won-I won’t,” she blubbers “you do-you don’t understand, Adrien. I can’t do this. Not without you. I can’t.”

Sniffling as he wipes her tears away with his thumb, she leans into his touch, letting herself feel his warmth. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she says softly “to live without a heart.”

At this, he finally frowns. “But you do have a heart.”

Marinette shakes her head. “Not anymore. Not without you.”

“You still have me.” the low, calm timbre of his voice soothes her and she watches as he places a hand over her heart. “I live on, in here. You’ll carry me with you always, Marinette.”

Sliding his hand to the back of her neck, he pulls her towards him, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead; his lips lingering for a moment in an all too familiar gesture.

In his face, she sees tenderness in every line, something kind and warm in his expression. There is an insurmountable sorrow too, the edges of his lips curling in a sad smile, and she knows what he is going to say to her, knows now why he has visited her this night.

“But you have to let me go.”

[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.

[writesowhatnext]

aren’t you full of surprises // charlie weasley

Summary: Charlie Weasley cannot possibly be your soulmate: he’s got nothing to do with dragons

Request: Hiya love, can I request a soulmate au with Charlie weasley?? Something about a little symbol on their body which represents their soulmate and Charlie’s soulmates is a little dragon which he sees after a quidditch match or something?! Thank you!!

A/N: I really love Charlie oml – this is mostly based on the books and stuff &&&& I included tonks bc I love her and she’s in the same year so made it easy +++ s/o to anon who told me Sam Heughan was a good fan cast bc you were right and he’s perfect :))))

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing I suppose, making out ;)

You had decided that you were completely over having a soulmate. They were supposed to be perfect for you, sure, but they were ever so messy. What if you liked someone that wasn’t your soulmate? What if you never met your soulmate and you spiralled into a deep, dark, endless depression and ended up alone? What if your soulmate was cruel to animals? Or smelt bad? What if they supported the Falmouth Falcons? There were just too many things out of your control and so, after another recurring debate with your friend, Tonks, you had sworn off the idea completely.

“Y/N! Soulmates complete you!” Crumbs from the toast in her mouth tumbled back onto her plate as you rolled your eyes. “I know that I’m counting down the days ‘til I find whoever this is.”

As she pointed at the little wolf symbol on her wrist, her hair turned the softest, lightest shade of pink. It always did when she thought about her soulmate. You shot her a deadpan look.

“I just don’t think it’s very fair. Some people never find their soulmates – the whole thing is very unpredictable.”

“You’re missing the point,” Tonks insisted, her hair turning a light brown. “Soulmates are the only thing in this world that are actually reliable! They’re sweet and you’re supposed to share them with people!”

“Not this again-“

“I don’t understand why you won’t show me yours.”

“Sorry, Tonks, I think I hear McGonagall calling me.” You lied very obviously, standing up from the Hufflepuff table, and walking towards the door - the opposite way to where McGonagall was sat at the Teacher’s table.

“I’ll find out one day!” Tonks shouted after you, mouth once again full of toast.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Tonks; she was actually the only person you did trust, sometimes. It was just that whenever you looked at the dragon curled up on your shoulder, all you felt was annoyed at the universe. Besides, you had your eyes set on someone anyway.

Charlie Weasley had surprised you every time you learnt something new about him. He was handsome and well built, with ridiculously unruly hair and skin entirely covered with freckles. The first time you’d really heard of him was at the end of second year when he was made Seeker for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Not long after, he was made Quidditch Captain and so, you’d written him, perhaps prematurely, as a classic Quidditch jock: he’d probably join a regional team straight out of Hogwarts and that would be that. You had to admit though, after seeing him play once against Hufflepuff (a match Tonks had dragged you to), he was probably good enough to play for the nationals.

It surprised you more than anything to know that he’d been made a prefect, too. Granted, you didn’t know a lot about him, but you were pleasantly intrigued to hear that he was not only athletic but also quite smart. If anyone asked, he was definitely not the reason you tried out for the team that year. No one was as shocked as you when you were made chaser. Not even Charlie.

After a particularly intense match involving six fouls, a runaway snitch and a near-death experience, you were quite grateful to be back on two feet. The ground had never felt so good. What made it better, actually, was who stood to greet you by the entrance to the pitch. Even in his robes with a red and gold Gryffindor scarf draped around his neck, he’d never looked so good.

“Y/N, right?” he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” you couldn’t help but match his grin. “And you’re Charlie Weasley.”

“I didn’t realise I had such a reputation.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t.” you said, teasing him, walking past before turning around. “Your brothers are making a name for themselves. Their pranks are already pretty notorious.”

“Ah.”

“I may have heard of their older brother, world-class quidditch legend and prefect before, though.”

“Well,” he started almost bashfully. “I’m not much of a prefect.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You played really well out there today,”

“Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.”

“You’re quite the player.”

You didn’t say anything, enjoying the moment far too much.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You nodded, kissing your teeth and turning to get out of your sweaty Quidditch uniform. “See you around, Weasley.”

As you walked back to the changing rooms, you officially made your mind up. Sod your soulmate, you wanted Charlie Weasley.

He made it quite easy for you to achieve your goal. That next day, you sat at the Hufflepuff table, as you often did. Tonks was already launching into a story about a Ravenclaw she had seen Charlie’s brothers prank yesterday when she stopped abruptly midsentence. You frowned at her before following her eyes to look behind you. With a plate of pancakes in his hand and an optimistic smile on his face, there stood Charlie Weasley.

“Can I join you?”

Slightly speechless, you looked to Tonks, mildly irritated to see her staring at you with a smug eyebrow raise.

“Sure.”

Quickly getting to grips with the fact that Charlie wanted to eat with you, you began to lighten up to the idea, glad that he enjoyed your company even a little bit as much as you enjoyed his.

“Tonks, this is Charlie-“

“We’ve met.” She said, an amused smile on her lips as she stabbed some bacon with her fork. You turned to Charlie to see that he’d gone slightly red, a lovely expression on his freckled face.

“You called her Nymphadora, didn’t you?”

He nodded, letting out a nervous laugh. “For the first and last time, that’s for certain.”

“Rightly so.” Tonks nodded, seemingly very pleased with herself.

“You’re a menace.” You pointed at her with your fork.

“Little old me?” Her face was the picture of innocence as she flung her hand backwards, the bacon on her fork flying into the back of a Ravenclaw at the next table. Her hair, along with her face, turned a deep pink shade.

“A menace.” You repeated, crossing your arms before turning to Charlie, who had been staring at you rather intently with an unreadable expression.

“Tonks was just telling me about a prank your brothers pulled yesterday. Given she can’t behave herself at all, she’s quite impressed with them.”

“At least someone is.” He said with a grin. “My mum might actually kill them when we get home.”

“That would be a shame,” Tonks frowned, chewing. “Someone needs to cause a little mayhem when I leave.”

“You think they could replace your legacy just like that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not, but they have to try.”

“Don’t think they could ever beat the time you put that Venomous Tentacula plant in Snape’s classroom,” Charlie’s smile was infectious as he remembered one of Tonks most infamous pranks.

Tonks’ face soured slightly. “I’m still doing detention for that one.”

You, Charlie and Tonks fell into easy conversation and more often than not, you found yourself staring at his attractive face and enjoying the sound of his deep voice.

“So, what d’you have today, Charles?” Tonks asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

“You’re playing with fire.” You warned her, knowing how much she hated her full name. She made a face. Ever the gentleman, Charlie just smirked at her teasing.

“Care of Magical Creatures, first-“

“You took that?” you asked, unable to hide the incredulous tone of your voice. He laughed.

“Yes? What’s wrong with that?”

“Well,” you frowned. “Nothing’s wrong with it, per se. I just didn’t expect you to take it.”

“And, why’s that?”

He turned to face you expectantly, his elbow resting on the table.

“Because you’re a total jock.”

“Oh, really?”

“Quidditch legend, remember?”

He shook his head, smiling. “So, jocks can’t like taking care of magical creatures?”

“They can.” You bit your lip. “They just usually don’t.”

“Are you saying I’m not like other boys?”

Lost for a witty response, you just stared at him. You felt, though cliché, that this was the first time you were actually seeing Charlie Weasley. The amused twinkle in his eye and the soft curve of his lips and the fact that there was a much softer side to him than you’d ever imagined caught you off guard. It seemed like all he ever did was surprise.

“Oh,” Tonks said, drawing both you and Charlie’s attention away from each other. “Bugger,” Her tone was stretched and full of imitated emotion. “I have to get to-“ Her pause was ridiculously long as she stood up from the table, nearly wearing the soupy sauce left from her baked beans as she did. “A class?”

Before you could say anything, she sent you a very conspicuous wink and legged it out of the hall. You would’ve been embarrassed at her obvious attempt to leave you two alone had Charlie not turned to you, amusement written all over his face.

“Blimey, she shot off quick – I bet that class is important.”

The next few weeks, you and Charlie were practically joined at the hip. Every single meal was spent with Tonks at the Hufflepuff table and weekends you spent walking through the grounds talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. He told you everything he could about his family and you told him about how you ended up on the Quidditch team and how strange it was to not be around your own family at Hogwarts. You never talked about the future – it was an unspoken rule. You knew Charlie must’ve had a soulmate and you knew he probably didn’t feel the same as you about the whole deal and so you kept quiet about it. It felt obvious that regardless of what you two were now, as soon as his soulmate came along, he would probably ditch you for them and the idea, as much as you tried to avoid it, pained you a little bit. You’d never felt as happy as you were when you were with him.

You’d been excited for your last Quidditch game of the year, especially as you knew that Charlie would be cheering you on the whole time. You wanted to impress him, as well, despite yourself and so you tried your hardest to play your best. It was going well, all and all, until you were hit by a rogue bludger. You should’ve been paying more attention and so you cursed yourself when you’d been knocked from your broom. To say you were quite relieved that you caught the broom before you fell would be an understatement. And with the cheers of the crowd around you to spur you on, you managed to climb back on and continue playing. You’d completely forgotten about it with the excitement of the rest of the match – and winning, to your surprise. Charlie hadn’t though.

Alone in the changing rooms whilst everyone else was celebrating, you moved your shoulder back and forth, wincing as you realised that the bludger would definitely leave a bruise. You’d only been there a moment before Charlie barged in with a worried look in his dark eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked at him as he came closer, mouth opening and closing slowly.

“Yeah, Charlie, I’m fine. It was-“

“Thank god.” He said, pulling you into a tight hug. You went rigid for a moment in his bulky arms before you relaxed into the unexpected embrace. “Are you hurt?”

He pulled back, hands resting on your upper arms. The concern in his voice and the warmth of his hands left you slightly breathless. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears.

“I’m fine.” You said softly, smiling. “Might have a nasty bruise, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Show me.”

You rolled your eyes at his insistence, though you were touched at his concern. So much so, you absentmindedly pulled down your Quidditch uniform to reveal your shoulder, something you’d never done before. You shivered as his fingers skimmed your skin before a breathless whisper left his lips.

“No way.”

“What?” you asked, blinking away the feeling of Charlie that had so consumed you. Almost instantly, you realised your mistake. “Oh!”

Trying to undo what had already been done, you yanked your robes back over your shoulder, hiding the symbol from view.

“It’s a dragon,” He said ever so softly, seemingly stunned.

“Charlie, I-“

“Y/N, I love dragons.”

Still attempting to preserve whatever was left of you and Charlie’s relationship, your mind raced at a mile a minute thinking about how he would react to your soulmate, a topic you’d never spoken about together. You were so distracted you almost missed what he said.

“What?”

“I’m surprised I didn’t mention it,” he looked from your covered shoulder to your equally shocked expression. “My family says I never bloody shut up about them. That’s what I want to do after Hogwarts, actually, working with dragons in Romania.”

Unable to form a coherent thought, your lips reacted before your brain had the chance.

“Are you taking the piss?”

Charlie barked a laugh, stepping closer to you.

“I knew I always felt something different around you.” He said with a decidedly gleeful look on his face as he shrugged. “Makes sense, really.”

“Soulmates.” You brushed your hair out of your face with both hands. “Tonks is gonna have an absolute field day with this.” His lips twitched. “I’ve spent years telling her that I was gonna choose who I wanted to love and soulmates were a bunch of rubbish-“

“Should I be offended?” he asked, stepping closer again. Your chest tightened slightly at the proximity.

“Well, no. I decided about a month ago that my soulmate could piss off and you were all I wanted.”

He didn’t say anything; an amused smile lifting his cheeks at your rambling.

“It was a bit of an up yours to the universe, actually.”

You inhaled sharply as his hands gently held your waist.

“Turns out the joke is on me-“ His fond expression cut you off.

“Soulmates, eh?” you asked, looking into his eyes. Before you could utter another nervous syllable, he moved forward and captured your lips in a kiss. You leant backwards; his hands pulling your waist into him as your hands disappeared into his unruly red curls. Pulling at them slightly, he moaned into your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile in response. You pulled away, deciding that breathing would be a fun activity for your both to enjoy. You panted, your breaths mingling together as an ear-splitting grin grew on his face.

“I think, love,” he said, pressed a chaste peck to your lips. “That it’s time I told you a bit more about dragons.”

[queenmevesknickers]

80. “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?”

Another prompt fill - this request for some Meve/Reynard content from the TB discord server *insert reynard emoji here*

---

Meve stormed into the medic’s tent. “Reynard! That was not the manoeuvre we had agreed upon!”

“Your Grace.” Reynard could not quite conceal his wince as he sat up in the bed, clearly attempting to rise in the presence of his queen.

Isbel, however, was not about to allow her patient to do any such thing, firmly pushing him back down against the pillows. “Your Majesty – I cannot have you charging into this place of healing, disrupting the peace and berating the injured as they convalesce.”

The two women glared at each other for a long moment, Meve with narrowed eyes and folded arms; Isbel with pursed lips, the air around her faintly shimmering and crackling. Finally, Meve spoke. “I require a word alone with my general, Isbel. Please.”

Isbel sighed. “Of course, Your Majesty.” She stepped closer to Meve and addressed her in an undertone. “Though I would remind you, General Odo lost a significant amount of blood this morning, and his wounds required a great many stitches. He will need some time away from his duties – and he is not to get out of bed until I say so.”

Meve merely gave a curt nod, and Isbel left the tent. She then turned her steely gaze on Reynard. “I was leading th’ charge, and Gascon springing th’ trap from th’ rear; you were to command the war machines and arbalests. I did not think my memory failing, but I do not recall any suggestion that you ought to take command of th’ light cavalry division and break through th’ enemy lines, in th’ midst of th’ battle!”

Reynard held her gaze, uncowed. “Once we were on th’ field, it was easy enough to see th’ advantage our men had over the much more heavily armoured Blackclad cavalry on th’ marshy terrain. It was obvious if we could eliminate th’ enemy commander, we might draw th’ battle to a far quicker close, and minimise our losses. I was merely taking th’ initiative – and it was a success, too, I might add.”

“Bloody reckless, is what it was!” She exhaled and lowered her voice once more. “Gods damn it, Reynard, you were nearly killed. A high price to pay for such a victory; for such an unnecessary risk.”

“I am a soldier before I am anything else, Your Majesty. If my life is all I have to give my queen, I will give it gladly.”

“That is not all you have to give me,” she snapped. She paused and took a deep breath. “You know I need you, you know how much I am relying on you in this campaign. Th’ odds are stacked against me as it is – would you have me take on th’ might of th’ Empire without my finest general by my side?”

He gave her a rare, fond smile. “I daresay you would manage quite well without me if you had to, Your Grace – you are more than equal to th’ task.”

She ignored him, shaking her head slowly. “Why? What on earth possessed you? We would likely have prevailed as it was. It was an enormous risk to take – hardly like you at all, to throw yourself into th’ fray with no regard at all to life or limb.”

He looked away. “In truth, Your Grace – I still seek to right my wrongs. Th’ way in which I betrayed your trust was unforgivable, I know – and I will forever be indebted to you for showing me mercy, mercy that I did not deserve. I had th’ opportunity to go some ways towards repaying you…and so I took it.”

Meve sighed. “Th’ mercy I showed you was not granted so you could arrange your own execution, Reynard; if you must think of it as a debt to be repaid, you will serve me much better alive than dead.”

“There was more to it, I must confess,” he said softly. “I know well that by my actions, I damaged not just your faith in me as your advisor, but our friendship as well; I could hardly have imagined a worse punishment than losing your regard, your confidence in me as a friend – I can only imagine how you must despise me now…”

“Despise you?” she cried. “Is that what you think? Gods, are you truly so blind?”

He regarded her uncertainly, worry creasing his brow. “I’m not sure I follow your meaning, Your Grace.”

She sat down beside him and took his hand. “You thought I hated you now? It couldn’t be further from th’ truth. Yes, I’ve been angry, furious – your betrayal was like a knife in my heart. But why’d you think I was so angry with you? Reynard, after all these years…how can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?”

He said nothing, merely blinking at her.

She could not help but laugh at his surprise, though the sound was bitter even to her ears. “Truly, you didn’t realise? Perhaps I hid it better than I thought. I’m sorry, friend; this is not how I ever imagined broaching th’ subject. We needn’t mention it again if it discomforts you. But I would not have you go on thinking that you meant so little to me.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, merely staring at her hand in his. Then eventually, he spoke. “Why d’you say ‘hopelessly’?”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “I’ve seen how dedicated you are to your work. For a long time, I must confess I was secretly glad that you neither courted nor chose to wed; th’ jealousy would’ve eaten me up inside. But I came to realise I could never ask for anything more of you than you have already given; I could not abide th’ thought that you would oblige me out of duty or loyalty. So please, don’t spare it another thought, I’m quite resigned –”

“Meve.”

The shock of hearing her name on his lips brought her speech to a stop at once. The way his mouth formed the sound, the expression in his eyes as he said it; a realisation hit her, flooding her with warmth from head to toe. Words utterly deserted her – fortunately, she quickly discovered that they were superfluous in this situation, for her lips soon found a far better way to express how she felt.

When Isbel returned to tend her charge, she found him already remarkably improved. And if she suspected that it was something other than her healing talents that had brought this about, she kept it to herself.

[bevvydraws]

Sweet Justice (cont.)

1, 2, 3 , 4 , 5

Chapter 6

Princess Justice gripped at her hair in increasing frustration, somehow her fancy up-do still staying relatively neat, “What the hell just happened?!” the knights around her looked at her with concern, but not daring to step any closer to the volatile girl. Even Hawkmoth didn’t seem to dare try and reprimand her. Princess Justice felt her emotions fluctuate out of control, and she gripped the nearest railing and tried to calm herself. 

Chat Noir knew her intentions, he wouldn’t actively work against her, and he’d explain everything to Luka--no, Harmonia. This was just a minor setback. Focusing her gaze on a random point in the distance, her mind raced with different strategies. It’s likely that she wouldn’t convince Hawkmoth of her ability to capture Chat Noir twice. She was lucky she got away with it the first time, especially since now Chat wouldn’t have reservations about using Cataclysm with another partner to cover in case he needed to detransform. 

Harmonia had thrown a heavy wrench in her plans, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be angry about it anymore. He hadn’t known any better, and she almost found herself flattered that he would take on such a huge responsibility to save her. To actively work against her would be going against what he truly wanted to do, which would be joining her ranks. She gripped the rail tighter, forcing herself to focus on coming up with another strategy. However her thoughts trailed back to him wanting to join her ranks, something nagging her about it. 

Her eyes widened in realization as a strategy popped into her head. The thought of using violence against the two boys she cared deeply for almost making her hesitate, but it was the only way she could think of. All she could do was hope that Harmonia and Chat Noir trusted her as much as she trusted them. With newfound determination, Princess Justice looked out over her knights who looked back at her with anticipation in their slightly glossed over eyes.

“My loyal knights,” she started, “We’ve hit a slight snag, but this will not delay what is inevitable for long! If we cannot gain the cooperation of these so-called heroes, who claim to fight for justice, then we will force their cooperation!” She held her hand out for Alya to hand her the staff she had tossed to the side absentmindedly. As soon as it was in her grasp she raised it high and continued, “We will not relent! We will not falter! We will not fail!”

The knights below shouted with excitement and agreement, moved by the words of their leader. Their formation became even tighter, if it were possible. Princess Justice could not help the grin on her face, feeling rejuvenated by the encouragement. Putting her arm down, Princess Justice revelled in the feeling for only a second longer before continuing, “Remember, our aim is not to hurt, only capture. While the false heroes are not on our side, they are better for us if they are unharmed than if they are hurt. Hawkmoth, the one gracious enough to grant me these abilities, will deal with their justice accordingly himself. He’s certainly earned at least that much.”

With a quick glance to the roof, she spotted the tips of what appeared to be leather cat ears. Fighting back the grin on her face, she looked over her knights once more, “Let the hunt begin.”

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

Chat Noir looked at Harmonia, “My Lady is so smart,” he practically swooned. 

Harmonia nodded, “At least now we don’t have to worry about our plans conflicting with each other.” His gaze was fixated on a point in the distance, “Now we just have to fight her enough to be convincing while letting ourselves be captured.” 

“Do you think it would be more convincing if we both used our powers?” Chat Noir asked. 

“I don’t really think it’s something that we should risk. We need to be able to use a lucky charm to fix everything after Hawkmoth is defeated. And we don’t know if our transformations will hold while under her control,” Harmonia frowned, “But not using them will really complicate things. Normally you and Ladybug wouldn’t have any hesitation to use your powers, regardless of who the akuma was.” 

“You’re right,” Chat nodded in agreement, “We even had to go up against our best friends, multiple times, and we used our powers without hesitating.” 

“So how are we going to manage to do this convincingly?” 

Chat had a pensive expression on his face for a moment, then frowned, “Well, I have an idea, but it isn’t going to be easy.” Harmonia said nothing, and Chat took that as a cue to continue. “While it’s true that I’ve had to fight my best friend before, and did so without hesitation, I’ve never… I’ve never had to fight against someone I love as much as I love her.” Chat looked at Harmonia from the corner of his eye, but didn’t see any signs of agitation and continued, “The truth of the matter is, I could never use my power against her. Ever. Unless it was absolutely necessary. And I imagine it’s the same for you.” 

Harmonia nodded, “You’re right. That’s why both of us are at a disadvantage, at least if we were trying to actively fight against her. But this could work to our advantage. The only thing is, Hawkmoth has no idea we both love her.” 

Chat sighed, the frown still present on his face, “That’s why this isn’t going to be easy. We’re going to have to make sure Hawkmoth doesn’t question the love we have for her.” Harmonia still didn’t let his emotions show on his face, and Chat only frowned more.

“But is that fair to Marinette?” Harmonia asked. 

“No, but at this point we don’t have another option.” Chat looked down at the roof they were sitting on. In the silence, they could hear the sound of the knights marching in formation and taking to the streets of Paris. If either of them leaned forward, they would likely see them, but neither hero moved from their spot. “Marinette would stop at nothing to save us, to help us, even if it wasn’t fair to herself or to us.” 

Harmonia nodded again, “You’re right…” 

The two would have to put their feelings out there for everyone, including Hawkmoth, to see. While neither were ashamed, it was a vulnerability that neither were prepared for. Especially when paired with the odd circumstances of fighting alongside their rival for her love. 

“We also need to be prepared to face the effects of the macaroons,” Chat Noir warned, “It’s the only way we can convince Hawkmoth.” 

Harmonia was silent for a moment, and below Princess Justice’s voice could be faintly heard. He looked at Chat Noir, “We can do this,” he said confidently. 

Chat Noir managed a grin, which Harmonia reciprocated. With a quick fistbump, the two leapt off of the roof to wait further ahead of where the knights were marching. 

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

Princess Justice sat on the makeshift throne that was now being carried by four knights. Her army marched ahead of her, some trailing behind in case of heroes attempting to “catch her by surprise”. She knew that they had heard her plan, or at least she hoped they’d heard enough of it to understand what she was going for. Now all she had to do was rely on their acting skills. 

She kept her gaze fixated on the roof tops above, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when a few minutes into their march, a red and black blur flashed in her vision before two figures crashed into the middle of her army. “They’re here!” she shouted, “Capture them immediately!” 

The knights converged Chat Noir and Harmonia, who fought them off. The two seemed to work flawlessly together, which slightly surprised Princess Justice in the back of her mind. She was snapped out of her mini train of thought by shouting. 

“Marinette!” Chat Noir called, “Give up! I don’t want to hurt you!” his voice sounded pained but determined, fighting off knights even as he looked her way. His baton twirled effortlessly in his hands as he fought. 

“Please!” Harmonia chimed in as well, “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.” Using his yoyo he swung one knight in the swarm of knights, knocking some down like bowling pins. Even with the mask covering his mouth, his voice was clear.

Princess Justice was taken aback by the genuineness in their voice. She wasn’t quite sure they were acting, but knew that she had to trust them to follow her plan. “Try and stop me, heroes,” she said, her voice carrying over the din of the fighting, “No amount of Cataclysm or Lucky Charms will stop me. You’ve lost.” 

Harmonia and Chat Noir shared a brief glance, their emotions unreadable but to Princess Justice it seemed like a look of agreement and understanding. 

“You know there’s no way I could use Cataclysm against you, Marinette. Please, please just listen,” Chat Noir begged. 

“And I don’t what the Lucky Charm will have me do, and I’m not going to risk hurting you. Just let us save you!” Harmonia pleaded. 

“I don’t need to be saved!” Princess Justice slammed her fist against the armrest of her throne. “Your petty pleas mean nothing to me. You refusing to fight against me only makes you seem weak. Why should I listen to either of you?” She wasn’t sure where this was going, and fought back the uneasiness she felt in her gut. 

“Because…” Chat Noir’s voice rang out, stopping his attempts to fend off the knights. 

“Because…” Harmonia said at the same time, also stopping all attempts at defense. 

“Because we can’t hurt the one we love!” they said together just as the knights overtook them. The two heroes were hidden from her sight, but their words still rang clear in her head. Her cheeks flushed, and it took all of her strength to keep from letting out a squeak. She had to remain composed. 

For the second time a butterfly appeared before her face, and Hawkmoth’s voice almost managed to drown out the sound of their declaration of love bouncing around her thoughts. Almost.

“If I would have known it would have been this easy,” Hawkmoth’s disembodied voice mused, “I would have pursued you as an akuma even sooner…”

“Their emotions made them weak,” Princess Justice spoke, the words making her feel heavy as she spoke.

“Their weakness is our strength, Princess Justice,” Hawkmoth continued, “You’ll have no trouble turning them with your macarons. Then they’ll have no choice but to hand over their Miraculouses on a silver platter to me.” 

“Just make sure there is no interference on our way to you, Hawkmoth. You’ll get your justice soon.” 

With that, the butterfly faded from her vision just as the two heroes were brought before her and forced on their knees. Princess Justice hopped down gracefully from her throne, pulling out two macarons. Princess Justice tilted up Chat Noir’s head, his eyes meeting hers. His gaze was filled with love and adoration, but Princess Justice refused to get side tracked. She held a macaron up to his lips, almost unsure. And with a quick nod of reassurance, Chat Noir took the macaron in his mouth and ate it with no hesitation. 

Not waiting to see the effects, Marinette moved to Harmonia. She was unsure if his mask would move down, unsure of what to do if it didn’t. But thankfully she didn’t have the problem. She assumed that since Harmonia was willing to let the mask slide down, she was able to slide it down his face. This allowed him to smile at her, the same smile he gave her when he professed his love for her the first time. She shook her head, put a macaron in his mouth, and slid the mask back up to cover his face. 

Now all she had to do was wait, and hope they could overcome their injustices.

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

taglist:  @fandom-trapped-03 , @justafanwarrior , @ultimatetornshipper , @lunadensmidnightprowl​ , @starpony999​ , @minth0l-illness , @the-bollywood-miraculous-girl​ , @akioshiwarrior​ ,  @queencommonsense ,  @id-dance-with-draco ,  @all-mights-asscheeks

[tomuras-doormat]

His Darling - Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader

My first post <3 This writing was for one of my college classes so this version is different compared to the original. It’s told in 3rd person (kind of?) but I hope you all still enjoy it. Word Count: 3.5K Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping  

No more than five years old, Tomura Shigaraki was abandoned by his parents. He was a frightened child with baby blue hair and red eyes, wandering the streets during the day and resting at night. He looked to other people for help, but no one did. They ignored him because he was dirty. Tomura cried and begged and on some days, he thought that he should end it all. Tomura later developed Dermatillomania due to him scratching at his eyes and neck whenever he was anxious which caused people to label him A Monster.

All those people that ignored him had brought him to where he was now. A killer who had an obsessive crush on someone he happened to stumble into one night at the bar. She was shorter than him and thin, she had beautiful eyes and silky smooth hair, she dyed her hair pink awhile back and all that stays of it is small shadows that shine under the street lights. Tonight, the girl is alone. Tomura follows her from a distance. He does not need to follow her; he already knows everything about her. Where she lives, where she goes to school, who her friends are, and most importantly, the fact that her dad put his gambling debt on his beautiful daughter. Granted that may have been Tomura’s fault after he killed her father, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Tomura has been helping her to pay it off! He sends her $1,000 once a week. He does not understand why she looks so confused whenever she receives the money, but he knows that it makes her happy. Tonight, Tomura decided that she is going to pay him back for all the money he has spent on her. I mean she should know where this money is coming from, shouldn’t she? He edges closer and closer to her as she gets increasingly distracted on her phone, waiting for the right moment. Tomura knows when the right moment is, he has been planning this for months now and now was finally the night for action. He walks a little closer to the unsuspecting girl and watches as she turns down the alleyway that she uses as a shortcut to get back to her apartment. That’s when he strikes. Like a predator closing in on its prey. Tomura hooks his arms under the girl’s and covers her mouth with a cloth making the girl drop her phone. She struggles a bit but eventually she calms down, a smile spreading across Tomura’s face. The one person he would never think of hurting is now in his arms. The one person who he cares about most needs him. What would happen if he left her there? Some other guys were bound to come around and have their way with the unresponsive body. Tomura could not allow that to happen, he would not allow that to happen. She was now safe in his arms. Safe from all those guys who flirt with her at the bar, safe from that crazy killer who is always on the news, safe from that nasty debt collector. She was safe. Tomura crushed her phone under his foot and picked her up princess style. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and smiled as he carried her out of the alleyway to his home. Her new home. Their home. Main Quest Number One: Completed Tomura scowls as he drags the small figure back to his small house. Why did you try to escape? He did not understand. He made sure he had everything you liked. From the clothes you wore, to your favorite meals. He had everything memorized, it’s what a good boyfriend should do right? So why did you try to run away from him?  You were confused! That must be it. You don’t understand everything yet, that’s why Tomura is there to teach you. He’s there to be your guiding hand for you to hold. Tomura picks up the small figure gently and holds her tighter as she struggles. “Why are you doing this to me?!” she yells out at him at a volume that someone else would have heard her if he lived in a more populated neighborhood. Tomura gives her a soft smile and says, “It’s because I love you darling, you’re just confused is all and you need some guidance.” He plants a few more dry kisses onto her forehead and takes her back inside. “If you try something like that again darling, I can’t say I’ll be as nice.”  Tomura decided that she should be restrained. It was a thought that he hoped he would not have to act out, but just until she was broken in. He just needs to train her! Like a cute new pet he just got, she needs to be trained. Learn her boundaries, what she can and cannot do. He can’t be mad at her for trying to escape, he did not train her! Tomura jumped in excitement at the thought of his darling becoming obedient. Once she breaks everything will be so much better. Tomura locked the 6 locks and 2 deadbolts on his door and set his darling on the couch. “I’m going to make our dinner, stay put and watch TV, okay?” he said with a small smile. The girl starts to cry and Tomura’s expression changes drastically. “Why are you crying my darling?!” he said as he rushed over to her. “Why are you keeping me here...!” the small figure cried out. Tomura frowns and pulls the girl towards him to hold her close, a slight struggle coming from the girl. “Because I need to keep you safe darling, there are so many dreadful things in this world and I’m going to be your savior. I’ve seen the way those men eye you up. It’s disgusting to watch them, knowing they are undressing you with their eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore and I wanted you for myself.”  The girl calms down a bit and her sobs become soft sniffles. Tomura smiles at his first successful breakthrough and kisses her forehead. “I’m going to make dinner, ok darling?” he says as he stands up. He walks over to the kitchen and starts to prepare the girls favorite meal. He looks back at her occasionally to make sure she is behaving herself, growing happier and prouder at the fact that he’s slowly breaking her.  Tomura smiled at the sight of her wearing the white nightgown he bought for her. He liked seeing her in white, it made her purity shine through even more. He patted the spot next to him and waited for her to walk over to him, but she didn’t. She just stood there and hesitated. “What’s wrong my darling?” he asked, a bit annoyed. “Why do I have to sleep next to you...” the small figure mumbled. Tomura frowned and stood up, walking over to the girl. “Because I want to keep you safe in my arms even when you sleep. What if the house catches on fire and I can’t save you...?” he says as he grabs a hold of her wrist lightly. He pulls her over to the bed and waits till she is laying down. Tomura smiles to himself and crawls onto the bed himself. He pulls the covers down and holds the fragile body close to his own. He leans down to her whisper in her ear but hesitates a bit. He looks down her body a bit and kisses her neck as she squirms a bit next to him. He looks up to see a hint of pink on her face and he smiles. “I know you’re still a virgin darling, I’ll wait to do anything like that until you’re ready” he says to her and plants a loving kiss on her cheek. Tomura holds the small body close to his own and closes his eyes, waiting for the happy dreams to come to him about him and his darling. * * * Tomura woke early in the morning so he could prepare everything that needed to be done. Tomura had to leave today so he decided to give his darling a small chore list of what he wanted done while he was gone. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen to start breakfast, soon Tomura will be waking up to breakfast in bed from his darling, he must train her to do so. He was sad that he had to leave his darling alone today, but the trip was well needed. His fridge was running low on food and he wanted to have a stocked fridge for when his darling started cooking for him. He smiles to himself knowing that he has her now. He can keep her safe from everything bad in the world. Safe from everyone’s nasty glares and perverted eyes. The only eyes that can lay upon her now are his own.  He finishes making breakfast and sets it down on the table. He grabs a notepad and a pen and writes a small note for his darling. “I have to head out for a while my darling so please behave yourself. I do not want to be angry with you   I have a small list of chores for you, could you do them for me darling? -Clean the dishes -Make our bed -Pick up the Living Room a bit” With his note written and breakfast made, he grabbed the things he needed and headed out. Tomura looked up at the sky and frowned. It was dark and gloomy. Was it supposed to rain? He couldn’t remember. He sighed and walked down the sidewalk to the convenient store. It may be called a ‘convenient’ store, but it was far from that. The closest store was about a three-mile walk. Tomura would have to be gone for about 2 hours and that pained him, knowing his darling would be home alone for such a long time. He’d just have to be quick is all. Tomura smiled and started on his journey to the store, now having a purpose to go. He pulled out his small list and read it over multiple times on his way there, hopping by the time he got there he would have it memorized. There wasn’t much on it, but it was still a lot.  Tomura looked at a few display windows as he passed by some stores. He paused for a minute and imagined his cute darling in the displayed dress. He blushed at the thought of coming home to her in the outfit. He quickly walks into the store to buy the floral dress. A knee length dress that has a white base and pink flowers working its way up the fabric.  Tomura held the bag tightly as he walked out of the store. 15 minutes behind, but it would be worth it. To see his sweet in the tasteful dress and to see her reaction to seeing it herself, he was jumping with excitement. He looked up at the sky to see it had darkened even more, covering the sun completely. “I should hurry…” Tomura mumbled to himself, and so he started his quest for the store. Side Quest Number One: Completed Tomura made his way to the store and pulled out the small list. He was distracted the rest of the walk and had forgotten about memorizing the list. He looks around, walking up and down aisles to find what he needs. Frowning whenever the store didn’t have what he wanted, which was a lot of. Tomura scoffed at the thought of going to another store or even taking another day to go shopping again. He grabbed what he could get and went to the cashier to pay for his items. He glanced outside and sighed as it started to rain. Just his luck. The store clerk told Tomura his goodbyes and thank yous and Tomura walked out of the store. He looked around for the covered spots of the streets but could not find one. He sighed and started to make his journey back home at a slight job. Thunder roared and some lightning struck on his way, but it did not bother him. The only thing Tomura feared was losing his darling. He ran up to the house and pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and walking inside. “Darling! I’m back!” he yelled. Tomura closed the door and looked around. Where could she be? He walked to the kitchen and set the grocery bag down. Anger set in when he saw the untouched plate of food and the dirty dishes. He called out to her again, “Darling, where are you!”  The enraged man stormed around the house trying to find the small girl. He had started to throw doors open in his rage. Had she really left him?! Just like that! “Darling!!” he called out in an angry tone. He stormed into the bedroom and looked around. He kicked the bed and growled. Where the hell did she go? Did she seriously leave him? Tomura looked around and walked over to the closet. He opened the doors and looked down. His emotions flared in rage as he saw the girl sitting on the floor. He opened his mouth to yell at her, but the girl leaped towards him and clung onto his shirt, crying. She was crying…? A roar of thunder had the girl crying even more and suddenly he understood. He wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his already soaked shirt. “Did I scare you darling? I didn’t mean to, I thought you ran away from me...” Tomura had picked up the small sobbing girl and held her in his arms. He walked over to the bed and laid her down. He tried to get up, but she clung to him even harder. “Don’t leave me... Please...” pleaded the girl. A small smile spread across Tomura’s face and he laid back down with her, holding her close and whispering sweet nothings into her ear.   * * * Weeks after weeks, his darling had finally started to crack. She was warming up to him, greeting him when he returned home, started cooking meals and obeying most of his commands. Today was an extra special day, it was the first day that she had worn the floral dress that he had bought for her. The dress fit her perfect body perfectly, showing every curve off perfectly. Tomura blushed a bit as he walked over to her and kissed her cheek. She even started being more loving towards Tomura, that made him the most excited. That’s all he wanted from her was her love. He wanted her to stay home and take care of the family. A family that was hopefully soon to be a reality. “I have dinner ready for us,” she said softly. He smiled and nodded. Tomura set his stuff down and walked to the kitchen with the small girl. He looked down at the table and smiled at the home cooked meal made by his darling. This is how life should always be, this is how it was meant to be.  “I’m going to go take a shower darling,” Tomura said to the girl as she picked up his plate. The girl looked at him and nodded with a soft smile. He kissed her cheek and went upstairs to the bathroom. Tomura couldn’t even wipe the smile off his face. His new pet has finally been broken in, no need for the leash and collar anymore on his new pet. She was bound to break eventually, with no one else to talk to but Tomura, who would she turn to? She would break eventually, and it finally happened. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He walked over to the shower and turned it on while he started to undress. Tomura hadn’t showered a lot because he was saving the water for his darling. He finished undressing and hopped into the bathtub. He closed the curtain and leaned his head back, wetting his hair and face. Tomura smiled and closed his eyes, getting lost in thought of his darling that he didn’t hear the door open. He grabbed the shampoo and put some in his hand. Setting the bottle back down he lathered up the soap into his hair. He opened his eyes a bit to see the curtain opening, his darling sliding into the shower. A dark blush spreading across his cheeks. “Darling what are you doing...!” he managed to stutter out. The small figure looked up and smiled. “I wanted to join you...” she said softly, stepping into the shower and closing the curtain. It was the first time Tomura had laid his eyes on a woman, the only woman he ever dreamed about looking at was his darling and here she was, in front of him in the shower. His eyes were darting all over her body, not knowing where to look. The small figure stepped towards him and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Tomura looked at the girl, asking for permission with his eyes. The girl giggled and nodded, planted a soft kiss on his cheek. When he was given the okay, Tomura was on her like a wild animal. He couldn’t contain himself; self-control was blown out the window the moment he was given the okay. His hands exploded every inch of her body as she whined and squirmed under his greedy touch. Tonight, he would finally lay claim to her, he would mark her wherever he saw necessary.   Main Quest Number Three: Completed The next morning, Tomura awoke from the movement of his darling. He opened his eyes a bit and looked down at her. She was snuggled up to his chest and breathing softly. He pulled the sheets down a bit to admire her marked up body. He smiled to himself and planted a soft kiss to her forehead. Everything was now perfect. Tomura’s life was now completed. He had everything he could ask for and the next step would be soon to come. A family. * * * More weeks had passed and Tomura had been delivered the news, his darling had tested positive for pregnancy. They were both overjoyed, exchanging hugs and kisses. Worry then set in Tomura’s mind. How would this baby be delivered? He is wanted in about every state for murder, he can’t just waltz into a hospital and expect not to have someone turn him in. That was something he couldn’t risk. Tomura had to come up with a plan and he had limited time to do it. He set the girl down and smiled. “I’m so happy darling, this is all because of you, you made this possible” he said with a smile.  “Hey Tomura, do you think I could go outside...? I could buy the groceries instead of you” she said softly. Why would she want to go outside? Tomura’s chest rumbled as a low growl escaped his lips. “No, there's no reason for you to go outside! It’s not safe out there! Why would you want to leave me darling...?!” he yelled at the girl. The girl cowered a bit in fear at his loud tone. She was trying to leave him! Was everything she said an act? Was she playing with his emotions? No. No, no, no, no, no. His darling wouldn’t do that. She loved him; he knew he did. Tomura grabbed her shoulders roughly and looked down at her. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you. You’re happy here. I know you are” he said with a dark smile. His eyes glistened with rage as the small girl whined from his harsh grip. “Tomura you’re hurting me...” she said quietly. Tomura let go as an idea popped into his head, a sadistic smile spread across his face as he looked down at the girl. He can’t have her running away from him. She has his child, she can’t run from him now He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door to the basement. Tomura let out a low chuckle as he pulled her into the basement. He had everything prepared down here in case something like this had happened. The girl struggled in Tomura’s harsh grip; eyes filled with fear as she looked at all different tools around the basement. Tomura walked over to a wall that he had built chains into. “It’s for your own safety darling. I can’t have you leaving me. What if you happened to get hurt while you were out?”  Tomura said, worry clearly in his voice. He kneels and wraps the chains around her ankles. “I can’t have you leaving me darling…” he says with a smile. He stands up and plants a kiss on the frightened girl's forehead. “And to think I fully broke you...” Tomura walks over to the stairs as the girl cries out his name. He ignores every word she says, though it puts a great deal of pain on him to do so. The man bites his lip and walks up the stairs, a smile making its way on his hips as he closes the door.   “I won’t let you leave me darling; I’ll make sure you understand that.”

[elyvorg]

Maki Harukawa: What She Wants Matters

As much as I love Maki and her character arc, I didn’t use to think there was any need for me to do a big analytical ramble about her like the one I did for Kaito. After all, Maki’s arc is very clear and in-the-open thanks to Kaito encouraging her to talk about things. Look at her opening up and making friends and learning to trust people and be trusted herself! It’s lovely to behold.

But I realised as I thought more about Maki that there is a part of her arc that’s a lot subtler and likely gets noticed and talked about a lot less, which is a shame when it’s possibly the most interesting aspect of her issues and development. I’m referring to how difficult it is for her to believe that her own feelings and desires are important in any way, and the series of events that pushes her into finally acknowledging this and beginning to embrace what she wants for herself.

So let’s talk about this. Because just like everything that goes on inside Maki’s head, it matters, and it deserves to be talked about.

Her feelings don’t matter

Throughout chapters 3 and 4, Maki gradually makes a lot of progress in opening up to Kaito and Shuichi about herself: the people she’s killed, the horribly gruelling training she’s been through, and eventually even her happy days back at the orphanage before her life became hell. But one aspect lags noticeably behind compared to her just talking about these things, and that’s her ability to acknowledge how she feels about any of this.

Maki repeatedly calls her stories about her horrible past “boring”. Really, they couldn’t be further from that – it’s heartbreaking learning how much suffering she’s been through – but she genuinely doesn’t expect Kaito and Shuichi to be having any kind of emotional response to hearing it all. She has so thoroughly convinced herself that her suffering doesn’t matter that it doesn’t occur to her for a second that anybody else might think it does – not even the people she’s just about beginning to accept are seeing her as a friend. There’s also the way she has a habit of calling Shuichi’s expression “gross”, specifically whenever he shows signs of caring about her feelings and seeing her as a person. She’s trying to write off his concern for her, because no, that’s not a thing he’s supposed to be doing. Her feelings don’t matter. Nobody else – not even someone who might be her friend – is supposed to care.

You’d think, when people found out her talent and became afraid of her, the most obvious way for Maki to defend herself would have been to explain that she never chose her profession and was basically forced into it against her will. Yet it never even crosses her mind to say that. It’s only more than a chapter later, in the chapter 4 training session where she talks about her past at length, that Maki finally fully admits for the first time that she never had a choice in becoming an assassin. But even then, she says it offhandedly, like that fact doesn’t ultimately matter or change anything.

There’s also a comment Maki makes in early chapter 5 about how killing for a living makes her no better than the evil sadist that they’re assuming Kokichi is. She genuinely doesn’t think the fact that she didn’t choose this and doesn’t enjoy murdering people counts for anything in terms of judging how good of a person she is in light of all her murders. That’s so heartbreaking? Of course that makes her a significantly less terrible person than a hypothetical sadist who kills just for fun!

There’s no way out

This whole problem is illustrated even more clearly in Maki’s final free time event. It might seem like a positive sign of progress that the event ends on Maki saying that maybe she’ll be able to quit being an assassin one day, but the way she approaches this possibility is so painfully telling about how messed-up she still is. And this FTE takes place as late in the story as chapter 5’s Daily Life, because Maki still isn’t going to get anywhere with this part of her issues until the fifth trial.

In the FTE, Shuichi offers to use his detective skills to investigate and maybe take down her assassin cult so she won’t have to kill people any more, and Maki instantly tells him that’s impossible. She explains that assassins are currently a necessary evil in this world and suggests instead that Shuichi should try to change the world enough such that nobody ever resorts to murder any more. Only then, Maki concedes, she might be able to stop being an assassin.

Which is a monumentally worse way to approach getting her out of her profession than what Shuichi was suggesting, and completely missing the point. Some assassins exist who actually willingly chose that job for whatever reason, and they should be the only people who “need” to do it. Even if assassins might be necessary, child slave assassins who never had a choice in the matter are very decidedly not. Taking down Maki’s one single child-slave-assassin-training cult is absolutely the simplest and most achievable way to help her.

But Maki doesn’t see it that way, because the fact that she personally never wanted this has never crossed her mind as relevant at all. If Shuichi asks her “but are you okay with this?”, Maki tells him that question is unreasonable and cannot answer it. It’s really a very simple question – the answer is no, obviously! – but Maki has trained herself to block out her own feelings about her situation and write them off as unimportant and irrelevant, so thoroughly that her mind just short-circuits and returns an error message when she’s asked about them.

The reason Maki’s like this, the reason that this is the hardest thing for her to change, is that this is the coping mechanism she’s had no choice but to develop. Trapped in her awful situation with absolutely no possible way out of it as far as she could see (she was ten years old), all of her thoughts and feelings about how badly she didn’t want this would have been just too painful for her to deal with. The only way she could cope was by locking those desires and feelings away and convincing herself that they don’t matter. She’s just had to resign herself to this. When there’s genuinely no escape, nobody could bear to keep fighting against it forever. It’s so much easier to just stop trying, and to forget that you ever wanted to try in the first place.

Maki has grown up telling herself that the impossible is just impossible, so she should accept it and get used to things the way they are. Trying to make it possible is futile and will only lead to more pain.

This is precisely one of the many reasons why Kaito is such a good influence for her and exactly the kind of person she needs to help her out of this!

She killed Kaito, and she definitely doesn’t care

…Or, at least, he might have been, perhaps – if she hadn’t gone and killed him.

After what I imagine was a huge emotional breakdown over the events in the hangar, Maki pulled herself together and suppressed that pain as hard as she could. She’s so well-practiced at doing so that the next morning – the morning after she killed her closest friend – she appears to be just about the same as ever. Even as they find Kaito’s body even more horrifically dead than she was expecting to see it, Maki firmly insists that his death doesn’t bother her.

It’s that same coping mechanism she always uses, for exactly the same reasons. This reality can’t be changed, and thinking about how she wanted things to be different only causes pointless unnecessary pain, so she doesn’t. She can’t. She just accepts things the way they are and convinces herself she’s fine with it.

Maki refuses to investigate with Shuichi not only because she doesn’t want him to figure out she’s the culprit, but also because Shuichi keeps infuriatingly talking as if Kaito might be alive – and as if she should want Kaito to be alive. She just can’t bear to be brought anywhere near those kinds of thoughts about what she might want when she knows that it’s already impossible.

Later in the trial, while fervently arguing that having broken into the hangar doesn’t mean she’s the one who killed Kaito, at no point does Maki ever try to defend herself on the basis that she would never want to kill him. Nobody has brought up the possibility that Kaito’s death could have been accidental at this point, so it would be a sensible argument to make. Granted, arguments about someone’s character and motives aren’t the most concrete ones to make in a class trial, but Maki has to know that it would be likely to give Shuichi pause, because there’s no way he’d want to think that Maki would do that either.

But no. Of course that’s an irrelevant argument to make. What Maki wants never matters, especially when it comes to her having killed someone. She’s just a murderer, and Shuichi should accept that she could just as easily have murdered anybody at all, even if it’s Kaito, no matter how she might hypothetically feel about it.

Even as Maki is confessing to the truth of what happened in the hangar and it becomes clear that her shooting Kaito with the poison arrow was an accident, she never actually directly mentions that she didn’t mean to kill him. She talks only very indirectly about the panic she felt while rushing to get the antidote, without properly expressing why she was so desperate. It’s only “I knew I had to do something about the poison,” and not, “I couldn’t let Kaito die.”

It just hurts too much for her to think of it that way when Kaito still died anyway because of her, and nothing will change that truth.

…Kaito’s alive!?

Until, out of nowhere, maybe something can.

If Shuichi still thinks it could be possible for Kaito to be alive, then maybe it actually is. The fact that Maki listens to him as soon as he expresses this is a subtle but huge testament to how much she believes in her friend’s detective skills. She only ignored Shuichi’s optimism earlier because she knew a lot more than he did about what happened in the hangar, and she didn’t see any possible way out for Kaito from where she was standing. But now that he knows that same information, Shuichi can still see a way out after all.

Maki puts her faith in his judgement and latches onto that tiny possibility that Kaito might be alive with everything she has. She refuses to let it go, despite Exisal Kokichi – aka Kaito himself – continuing to insist it’s totally impossible. I bet Kaito made a point of claiming it was impossible in a deliberate attempt to spur Maki to argue otherwise, and he must have been bursting with pride in her when she went and did exactly that. The impossible is possible! Maki Roll is finally believing that for herself! She’s finally trying to claw and fight her way into a better reality instead of just accepting the awful one she’s stuck in!

An equally important and absolutely lovely part of this is Maki finally expressing the fact that she didn’t want to kill Kaito, that she hates the thought that she did that. Based on her wording and her hesitant tone, it’s still difficult for her to admit it, but she’s finally doing so. It’s not quite so unbearably painful to think about when it might not be the truth after all. And it’s so wonderfully appropriate that this is the first moment we ever see Maki cry – she’s finally letting herself acknowledge and express her painful emotions and feel like they matter.

She also openly admits for the first time that she likes the nickname Maki Roll, not just begrudgingly accepting it, but actively asking Himiko to call her that! She’s desperate for anything that’ll remind her of Kaito and help her hold onto what she felt like back when he was alive, so that she can keep believing that maybe he still is. Maki is finally beginning to embrace how much she cares about Kaito and treat that fact like it’s important and deserves to be acknowledged, and it’s adorable.

Half a lifetime’s worth of forcing herself to just accept her lot as an assassin and ignore how desperately she wants to be a normal kid was always going to be nigh-impossible to break through on its own. But caring about Kaito and not wanting to lose him are new feelings that Maki hasn’t spent half her life suppressing. She only had a single night to shut away her pain over Kaito’s death and accept that he’s definitely gone – it’s far easier for that to be undone. The moment a tiny glimmer of a possibility opens up again thanks to her belief in Shuichi, Maki couldn’t ignore it if she tried.

Maki’s arguments for Kaito’s survival aren’t even all that logical. Her statements in the Nonstop Debate about the video are too caught up in what if it wasn’t Kaito? to make any meaningful suggestions like everyone else is; she insists the weird video angle “proves” a trick was used when really it only opens up the possibility; she’s the first one to hastily summarise everyone’s discussion about the video trick and just get to the point that this means Kaito’s still alive, right? Maki’s usually one of the best at taking the rational approach in trials and focusing on all the logistical details, but right now she doesn’t even care about any of that stuff, not when Kaito being alive is what she wants to be true, more than anything else in the world.

It would hurt so much for this to all be for nothing and for Kaito to turn out to be dead after all. Holding onto this hope is such a huge risk, and it’s terrifying – but it’s worth it. Even the tiniest chance of Kaito being alive is infinitely better than the alternative, no matter how terrifying it is. Whether she likes it or not, or even realises it at all, this experience is teaching Maki that fighting for that tiny possibility of something better, no matter how much it hurts, is always worth the pain.

Maki’s desperate defence of Kaito leading into her Argument Armament, though she doesn’t admit it and keeps trying to insist her argument is logical, is also her acting on her emotions. Her only real reason for it is simply that she doesn’t want to believe Kaito could have killed anyone.

And the only way for her to run away from that is to insist that she really did kill Kaito after all – which incidentally forces her to express a narrative of “this happened even though I didn’t want it to,” and not brush that latter part off like it’s irrelevant. This time it’s just a lie, but this is nonetheless a very important kind of narrative that Maki needs to learn to understand and accept. Sometimes things happen that she wishes never had, but that doesn’t mean that the fact she didn’t want it never mattered!

Losing Kaito after all

Maki is forced to learn this even more harshly at the end of the trial. Kaito’s alive, she didn’t kill him, he’s right here – but he’s dying anyway and there’s not a thing she or anybody else can do about it.

The Maki from before all this happened would have just given up, accepted it, and immediately begun insisting to herself that she doesn’t care in order to cope. Kaito is clearly a dead man walking on two separate levels – his illness and the execution – and changing his fate at this point really is completely and truly impossible. Maki is a smart and pragmatic person; she knows this perfectly well.

But the Maki who’s here now refuses to let that stop her from trying. She’s furiously determined to fight the Exisals to protect Kaito, despite knowing that even her assassin skills aren’t enough for that, despite knowing that Kaito is sick and dying anyway no matter what she does. She doesn’t want this, so she’s going to claw and scream and fight against it with everything she has, no matter how futile her efforts will be in the end. I love her line, “I don’t want this to end… I just… don’t…” – the only reason why she’s doing this is that she doesn’t want Kaito to die, and that’s the only reason she should ever need.

Amongst all this, Maki desperately admits to her romantic feelings for Kaito, because even if this can’t do anything to change his fate, her feeling this way about him still matters and she’s still feeling it and it deserves to be said. She’s not even really saying it for Kaito’s benefit like she expects a response from him about it; she’s just saying it for her own sake, because she wants to make it real.

Usually I’m the first person to roll my eyes and lose interest when romance rears its head. Yet I can actually appreciate the fact that Maki’s feelings for Kaito have a romantic aspect to them, because it makes this moment work for Maki’s arc in ways that it wouldn’t if her feelings were purely platonic.

Kaito was obviously always trying to get Maki to consider him a friend, so her having done that is still essentially her just doing what someone else wanted of her, like always, albeit at least someone who has her best interests at heart for once. But Kaito never asked or expected Maki to fall in love with him. Maki’s romantic feelings came from nowhere but herself. And while that in itself can’t quite be called her “choice” because that’s not how romantic attraction works, Maki accepting and embracing those feelings to make them a part of her and let them drive her actions is entirely her own choice. It’s a choice nobody else, not even Kaito, encouraged her to make. That’s such a huge, huge deal coming from her.

Maki caring about Kaito as a friend is something that was already pretty apparent from her actions and never really needed to be said. But her caring about him romantically was something that nobody would have known (Tsumugi’s incidentally-right-for-all-the-wrong-reasons amatonormative bullshit aside) if Maki hadn’t decided that it mattered enough to want to express it.

Maybe she manages to admit to all this now because she hated having to suppress all her feelings about Kaito like they didn’t even matter the last time he “died” on her, helping her realise just how important these feelings are to her and that she can’t bear to just ignore that any more. Kaito has been so, so good for her; of course she wouldn’t want to lose that, nor brush it off like it’s nothing.

Seeing him about to die for real this time with no way out, Maki’s probably also driven by some desperate irrational sense that if she just explodes with all of the exact reasons why she doesn’t want this to happen, maybe it somehow just… won’t? This is the very opposite of the lock-it-all-away coping mechanism she’s been employing for a lifetime, and even as it’s heartwrenching, it’s also so lovely to see her doing this.

Maki partly tries to cover up these emotions of hers at first with her fierce assassin mask. She’s still instinctively using her usual defences to try and block out some of the pain, but it’s not enough to stop her expressing things, nor to stop her from crying as she does so. As Kaito responds to it all by showing his usual painfully selfless pride in how far she’s come and can keep going from here, making it all about her and not himself, Maki finally seems to fully accept that there really is nothing she can do to save him, and she drops the assassin mask and just breaks down completely.

Kaito is inescapably about to die, even though she doesn’t want this, and both of those facts are allowed to co-exist. She lets it hurt; she lets herself cry over his death, because no matter how painful it is, it’s worth it. It’s so much better than pretending she never cared about Kaito and all the things he did for her. Maki tried doing that once, and she’s never going there again.

In their Kaito memorial training session after the trial, it’s such a big deal that Maki is the one to nudge Shuichi into talking about how he’s feeling and how much it hurts. She’s finally realising and learning for herself that opening up about her painful feelings can help, and by sharing that with Shuichi, she’s helping him deal with his grief, too. She resolves to honour Kaito’s memory by showing how grateful she is for everything he did for her, not even because that’s what Kaito would have wanted her to do, but just because she wants to for herself.

It’s all “fake”

But losing Kaito isn’t quite the end of Maki’s arc regarding all this. There’s still a little further for her to be pushed in trial 6.

When Shuichi reveals in the trial that Kokichi wasn’t actually a Remnant of Despair, Maki is subtly the most shocked out of anybody to hear this. She never explains why, but knowing what we know about her issues with never having her own desires and always being used as a puppet by somebody else, it’s clear that that’s what this is about.

Maki thought that her decision to kill Kokichi was her own. She even still basically kept thinking of it that way even after learning he wasn’t the mastermind, and even after realising that the Flashback Light was a motive designed to make her target Kokichi. After all, she’d have chosen on her own to kill a Remnant of Despair anyway; the Flashback Light just happened to let her know Kokichi was one, right? But upon realising that none of that was true, that there was no genuine, non-fabricated reason for her to kill Kokichi at all, it shakes Maki to her core.

It wasn’t really her decision, on any level. She was finally beginning to feel, after Kaito’s trial, that her desires were her own and they meant something – but here’s a sudden revelation proving that this action of hers that she thought was entirely of her own volition was never that at all. It was nothing but her being manipulated and used as a puppet to kill by someone with far more power than her, just like she always has been.

(Maki also overlooks the implications of Kokichi’s motive video during the investigation, even though she’s in the room when Shuichi watches it, meaning she should have seen it and been able to figure out what it meant by herself. The sad truth is that because of her background of suppressing her own desires and ideas, Maki is very susceptible to manipulation. She was quite happy to believe that Kokichi was a Remnant of Despair, because it justified her decision to kill him and made the whole situation easier to deal with. There was no way she was going to question that assumption on her own.)

Similarly, when Tsumugi boasts that the Flashback Lights were being used to control everyone’s emotions and motivations, Maki again sounds more distressed by this idea than anybody else. She thought her determination to “defeat despair” was her own desire, but really, none of it was. In this instance, that’s basically true, but hearing as such is especially painful for Maki. It hits her right in her issues and the progress she was beginning to make about feeling like her own person, making her wonder if she really even is at all.

This gets even more painful for her a little later, as Tsumugi goes right for where it hurts and insists that Maki’s romantic feelings for Kaito were just artificially implanted by a Flashback Light, never truly “real”. Tsumugi probably did this because she thinks that ~romance~ is so much more important than friendship and obviously Maki must be soooo sad to lose that – but that’s not the reason why Maki’s distressed by it at all. It’s because, as I went over before, Maki’s romantic feelings for Kaito were supposed to be hers and something nobody else wanted of her and that she chose to embrace and make a part of her, all by herself. Hearing that actually they just came from some evil asshole manipulating her and using her as a puppet yet again – it tears right into all of the progress that these feelings themselves had been helping her begin to make. Maki’s emotions and desires matter after all? No, they don’t. They were never even hers in the first place. They were never even real.

Someone more self-assured than Maki (such as Kaito) would have been able to stand up for their own feelings here and call Tsumugi’s claim out as the bullshit it obviously is. Even if her feelings were implanted, they would still matter just as much because she’d still be feeling them now – but also, there’s a mountain of evidence for the fact that Maki’s romantic feelings for Kaito were in fact completely real and organically arose throughout her interactions with him. She made it very clear as she confessed to them at the end of trial 5 that this is all about the kind of person Kaito is and the things he’s done for her. That’s where her romantic feelings arose from, and all of that was entirely real and happened after everyone was created from fake memories. Maki is the only one who was inside her own head when she began to feel that way about Kaito, so she of all people should know better than anyone else just how very not-fake her feelings are!

But she can’t realise that on her own. Despite the progress she’d been making thanks to Kaito’s trial, Maki had still spent a lifetime (a fake lifetime, but those fake memories clearly still wired her brain to think this way) suppressing her emotions as thoroughly irrelevant and feeling like she was nothing but a puppet for other people’s whims. She began the killing game with absolutely no self-assurance in who she is or how she feels; of course it would be heartbreakingly easy for her to lose faith in herself and revert back to thinking that way again when given the slightest reason to.

So Maki just buys Tsumugi’s claim completely, without even questioning it. Her feelings for Kaito were fake, as was her desire to defeat the mastermind, as was everything else about who she is. Nothing about her matters, and it never did. She doesn’t even get to be a person at all.

Believing in herself at last

We don’t see Maki reacting much as Shuichi begins his impassioned argument that the pain and emotions and desires everyone felt in this killing game were still thoroughly real. But it must have helped her begin to overcome this. If you feel something, that feeling is real and important, and that’s all that matters. She believes in Shuichi’s judgement; she must have been listening to him.

Perhaps even more helpful for her is how, as Shuichi encourages Maki to stand with him on this, he urges her to believe in herself. It might sound generic at first glance, but really, that’s exactly what Maki’s arc and her struggle with these issues always needed to come down to in the end: her believing that she has worth as a person. Not only in terms of not hating herself and accepting that she deserves to have friends, but in terms of embracing the fact that her feelings are real and important and hers, and they always have been.

It’s so hard for Maki to do this. It goes against everything that’s been ingrained into her throughout her whole life (a “fake” life, but what does that matter when it’s having a real effect on her?), and everything that Tsumugi’s been spouting for half the trial. But she can do it now. Thanks to everything Kaito’s done for her, and the things she felt as she lost him twice, and Shuichi’s continued support, Maki finally makes a conscious effort to believe in everything she’s feeling. She chooses for herself to make her existence as Maki Harukawa matter.

It’s such a wonderful culmination to her character arc, right at the end of chapter 6. She’s finally reached a point where she can fully accept and embrace that she wants to believe in herself like this. Kaito would be so, so proud of her – like he once said, “The only thing that matters is what you want to believe!”, and now Maki Roll is embodying that perfectly! But as much as Kaito would have loved to see this, the best part is that she’s not even doing this to make him proud. She needed her friends’ help and kindness to be able to reach this point, but now she’s not doing this for anyone else’s sake. Maki’s doing it purely for herself.

[myouwos]

what went on in nayeon's office 👀 can it be the first time jihyo bottoms for nayeon?

“Jihyo has school during the week so I assume she’s going for lunch at Nayeons office on the weekend so perhaps maybe she spends her whole morning trying on different outfits a little bit maybe I don’t know”

teacher jihyo au - part #3 (2k words)

there's no reason for her to be getting nervous, not when she and nayeon have been together for a few weeks. but jihyo still finds herself panicking an hour before she has to leave her apartment for nayeon's company building, throwing clothes out of her closet and covering her whole bedroom floor.

she emerges from it seconds later, the loud ringing if her phone startling her, and she almost falls on a bra on her way to the bed, cursing under her breath before she brings the phone to her ear.

"yes?"

"hi, just wanted to make sure you were still available for lunch." nayeon's voice immediately makes her calm down, her breathing slowing down as she realizes there's no point in being stressed about this, not when nayeon has been waiting for this as much as she has. "and if the answer is still yes, i might have some good news for you!"

"you know i haven't stopped thinking about it, and that's not to cancel last minute." she can barely hide the excitement in her voice, heart pounding in her chest. "so… what is it?"

"well, i'll send you a picture of the second one soon… but first, i talked with my secretary and managed to move one of my meetings to monday… which means we have two hours instead of one now."

jihyo's smile brightens at the prospect of getting more time than planned with nayeon, until she realizes she might seriously need to hurry with finding a good outfit.

"that's… amazing. when do you want me there then?"

"well… i'm free in thirty minutes. i'll be waiting for you."

nayeon hangs up before she can answer, and her voice sounds deeper than usual, a clear promise of what exactly will be waiting for her there when she arrives.

her phone vibrates in her hand before she can go back to her closet, and she gulps when she receives the picture nayeon had promised to her, skirt hiked up on her thighs and revealing the garter belt she had teased her with the other day. there's a difference between nayeon promising something to her and actually doing it, and if she wasn't aroused before, well now she definitely is.

rushing to her closet, she quickly chooses the red dress jeongyeon helped her buy when she first told her about nayeon and almost tears it while trying to put it on in a hurry, aware of just how impossible it will be for her to do her hair now.

not one to take too many risks, she takes her time on the road, but her heart is still racing in her chest no matter how often she tries to calm it down.

"park jihyo?" a voice calls out her name as soon as the doors of the elevator that leads to nayeon's office open, and she supposes she should have expected nayeon to warn her secretary of her arrival, but a small part of her hadn't been sure of if she'd need to hide who she is or not. maybe because nayeon is pretty secretive with her private life, and expecting her to be open about their relationship was hoping for too much. "ms. im is waiting for you, you can join her."

and yet, the knowing smile the woman has makes her feel like nayeon did not exactly keep her a secret, and that makes her unexpectedly happy.

she's so deep in her thoughts that she doesn't notice nayeon running toward her as soon as she opens the door, the ceo jumping in her arms and pushing her against the closing door when she steps into the office. 

"i missed you so much." nayeon whispers sweetly in her ear, clinging onto her, and she quickly hugs her back once she's made sure the door was indeed closed. 

"it's only been a day, we've spent longer without each other." jihyo chuckles, rubbing her back before nayeon steps away and she finally is able to take her in, nayeon looking exceptionally good today. 

"maybe the more time i spend around you the more i hate being away from you." nayeon walks towards her desk, heels clicking teasingly on the floor, and she follows after her, slipping her coat off. "you're stuck with me now, you'll have to get used to it."

jihyo catches up with her before she can go back to sit behind her desk, bringing the ceo towards her until they're close enough to feel each other again, and she's smiling when she brings nayeon in for a searing kiss, clearly not intending on wasting much time.

nayeon melts in her arms, allowing jihyo to guide her to the edge of her own desk, one of her thighs quickly wrapping around her waist to bring her closer although her skirt keeps her from doing what she wants. a light moan slips past her lips but jihyo still refuses to pull away, wondering about what was the point of her spending so much time choosing an outfit when it's probably going to end up on the floor in a few minutes.

"w-wait…" nayeon pushes her slightly away, their lips tingling, desire still burning in their chests, and she already looks flushed, her cheeks a deep red. "i… i wanted today to be about you." 

jihyo stares at her silently for a while, expression unreadable, until what nayeon said seems to hit her and she laughs, shaking her head before bringing her in another kiss, this one even deeper.

"you don't need to try anything you don't like, sweetheart. i'm more than happy with taking char-"

"do you think me unable to take care of you then?" nayeon cuts her off before she can finish her sentence, eyes sharp as the usual timidity is absent in the brown orbs, and it feels like the nayeon she knows is gone, replaced by the ceo persona she was first met with. "i'll let you know i'm perfectly capable of that."

"and i think you're just trying to be a brat." jihyo murmurs in her ear, half smirking when she hears nayeon gulp next to her.

the smug smile disappears from her lips when nayeon slips from her grasp to sit on the chair behind her, and she's the one having a hard time swallowing when she turns around to find the ceo staring at her with an intense gaze, the traces of a smile gone from her lips.

"if you want to be in charge so much then get on your knees and do your job." 

jihyo can only stare back at her curiously for a second, making sure this is all a game nayeon is very much willing to play and not a misunderstanding, but when the ceo slowly parts her legs, inviting her to do as asked, she thinks this is very much a game she's going to like.

she hasn't seen nayeon like this before, and that's as intriguing as it is arousing. standing in between her legs, she lowers down on her knees not without giving nayeon a look at her slightly revealed cleavage, the ceo's eyes immediately landing on her chest, her expression having a hard time containing just how turned on she is by the turn of events.

staring up at her, jihyo cannot help but look smug when her lips find nayeon's thigh and the woman's hand tightens around the armrest, but she quickly remembers her role and sits straight in the chair. 

"are you planning on trying to tease me? because that's a very bad idea in your current position." 

"i'm only doing what you asked of me."

one of nayeon's hands leaves her side to cup her cheek, and she leans down until jihyo is close enough to kiss her, although she knows that certainly wouldn't help with the throbbing desire between her thighs. 

"i'm telling you to fuck me. and i think you're the one trying to be a brat here." 

nayeon looks like she's about to kiss her, and jihyo's breathing hard, licking her lips in anticipation. but just when her wish is about to be granted, nayeon leans back in her chair, skirt hiking up to reveal what jihyo is going to be focusing on for the next minutes, and her hand slips in her hair, tugging her forward until her lips meet soaked panties. 

jihyo would usually give her a harder time, especially since she knows it wouldn't take much to turn the tables again. but with how wet nayeon is, fingers quickly coming to push her underwear out of the way, eyes taking in soaked folds, teasing is the last thing on her mind. 

she quickly works her way up to her center by kissing her inner thighs, remembering just how much nayeon likes this, and the moan she lets out at the first stroke of her tongue is sinful, nayeon's grip in her hair tightening. her legs threaten to close around her head but she remembers to keep them spread, jihyo's hands gripping her thighs and playing with the garter belt there.

lips close around her clit, jihyo now trying to bring her over the edge as fast as she can, looking forward to her own orgasm that she knows will come afterwards, and nayeon suddenly remembers they forgot to lock the door, biting her lips to keep her moans down.

her neck arches, body tensing when jihyo starts lapping at her entrance, teasingly slipping inside of her, and that's all it takes for her to go over the edge, her cheeks tinted in a light red as small whimpers echo in the office. 

it takes a while for her to come down from her high, jihyo cleaning her up with her tongue, soft strokes almost too much with how sensitive she has now become, patiently waiting for her own turn.

"i take it back, you're too good to be a brat." nayeon is still panting, but she finally manages to find strength in her legs to move, and jihyo's breath hitches when a heeled foot slips under her dress, bunching it up to reveal the underwear she spent an hour choosing.

she'll admit nayeon looks incredibly good like this, not even deigning to move to pleasure her, but instead rubbing the tip of her foot against the panties she was proud of but will for sure have to throw away later. she looks as powerful as jihyo had imagined she would, sitting behind her desk and managing an empire to perfection, and that's certainly what makes it so easy for her to get so close to the edge, her grip tightening around soft thighs.

"i bet you could come like this. so needy, how long is it going to take for you to start begging me to let you come?" 

nayeon is far too good at this, probably as good as she is, and she rests her head on her thighs, whimpering in need, and she bites her lip to keep herself from begging so soon, wanting to resist a bit more.

the ceo only grins in response, rubbing against her harder, and jihyo feels her knees trembling, her face flushed, barely succeeding in keeping herself from coming so fast.

"p-please?"

"please what?"

nayeon's tone hardens, but her eyes look the opposite, fondness reflected in brown orbs as she bites back a smile. 

"can i come… i've been good…" 

the ceo chuckles, pressing against her clit through her underwear, and she waits, just a few more seconds, jihyo whimpering even harder against her thigh.

"ok."

she tenses on the floor, thighs closing around her leg right before nayeon pulls away, stroking her hair as she watches her with a fond smile, enjoying the position she finds herself in a lot more than she'd first expected. 

"fuck." jihyo curses under her breath, thinking she might also have trouble with her dress after this, and when she finally looks up from, she blushes, nayeon leaning down to place a short kiss on her lips.

"so… you'll believe me when i say i can take charge now." 

jihyo laughs, nayeon helping her up until she's sitting on her laps, and her grin is back. 

"hmm… maybe. you still have a lot to learn though, i'll volunteer to be your teacher if you want one." 

nayeon pouts, teasingly hitting her shoulder.

"brat."

jihyo's laugh is kept quiet by the lips that fall over hers, and she's suddenly very happy about the time nayeon managed to get as a bonus, because they'll definitely make great use of it.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Himmeløyne [23/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: Angst???

A/N: Please check out my original story, The Abstract Dark (previously: Our Lady of Darkness), for some spooks, a little witch-craft under moonlight, and terryfying vampyre-like things! (18+ mature content)

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

The armour took the brunt of the impact as soon as the portal blinked out of existence, seizing the world of Verdenspeil in a swirl of oblivion.

A grunt left your throat, then your ears picked up on Baldrick’s noise of discomfort—he had landed on his arm funny, but nothing seemed broken.

“Are you okay?” you helped him to his feet.

The boy nodded, eyes fixed on the fallen dagger a few paces across the room.

There was a pedestal in the centre of the room, a keyhole of a four-pronged star in the centre made for the dagger on the floor—the dagger Sigrid gave you.

You stood up to take a better look at Mímir’s Tomb. The circular room gleamed silver and gold from the armours of giant statuesque figures chained onto open tombs built into the walls. Their design was similar to the Valkyrie armour you now wore, only cruder from warring, from wear and tear. That revelation gave you pause for concern, if there were signs of use, there may be signs of the life that once inhabited the armour.

Baldrick walked over to the dagger, then on his tippy toes, wedged it into the keyhole slot and turned it counter-clockwise. Just as Sköll and Hati chase after the sun and moon in endless circles, the room began to turn like a drum racing downhill.

The spinning was so intense you feared you’d throw up. Baldrick held onto the pedestal and kept his eyes shut. From the ceiling, a contraption lowered a stone platform. As it descended, the room began to stop spinning, and the armoured figures began to stir.

“Baldrick,” you ushered him close to you, shielding him with your arm as he grabbed your cyan blue cloak that swept the floor. The swish and swing of blades being drawn emanated from the sheaths of the armoured figures.

You swallowed, holding your breath. Fingers birthing blue aura in anticipation of a fight. Then, with a loud and deafening thud, the platform locked onto a triangular dip in the floor, a head floating in a curtain of magic and light.

One armoured figure took a step, and as you raised your hand defensively, Baldrick whispered: “No.”

The armoured figure cluttered to the floor, scattering into hundreds of pieces—as did all the others. A helmet rolled to Baldrick’s feet, ornate, a golden set of horns shaped like an elk’s. With childish wonder, fear wiped off his face and he picked up the helmet and put it on, turning to smile with bright teeth at you.

You laughed, unexpectedly and wholeheartedly. It was a rare gift to see pure, unrestrained joy come from nothing. This little boy in front of you carried a connection, his magic made a home in yours, made itself feel like it had been there for years, like it was beyond familiarity. You knew he was manipulating your emotions, perhaps without even realising it, but for some inexplicable reason, you weren’t worried.

The wisps of your magic died down, then the head spoke: “I’d recognise that magic anywhere… You’ve been touched by the Stone of the Ancients.”

You turned to the head, an opal gemstone for one eye, and sky blues like your own for the other. His hair was grey and long, worn with Viking braids and beads knotted on the ends of a few dreaded strands. His beard was thin and braided, tribal tattoos on either side of his temple in the form of roots of the World Tree.

“Mímir,” you said.

“The one and only,” he winked. “Come closer, let me have a better look at you. My eyesight isn’t what it was, being locked away in the cold dark for over a millennia will do that to you.”

You and Baldrick moved closer to Mímir’s line of sight.

“Your eye, it is as mine,” you said.

“A gift from my sister,” he said with a wistful tinge. His focus turned to Baldrick with interest. Recognition. “You, boy, I know you—of you. Your essence is blindingly radiant. So much power for such a small thing. Frightening. World spanning. You—Yes! It is you that I dreamt of all those years ago—you will war with the brother. You will be the Herald of Twilight. Herald of the end!”

Baldrick did not react to the words that he heard, he only blinked slow, lethargic with growing fatigue.

You instinctively wrapped a protective arm around the boy's frame, taking a step back. Mímir turned his sights back on you, squinting. “And you… You are the last of the Himmel Kvinner. Your fate will be that of tragedy and truth. Love and despair. Life and the expanse of space between living and death. You are the Forgotten One.” He quieted in contemplation, sighing deeply with burden. “I see. Yes, I see now. The prince… he sleeps, does he not?”

“H-How do you know that?”

Mímir smirked, “My knowledge is infinite. I see all. And I see nothing. That is why the Allfather trapped me here. Once, I could see through the very weavings of time itself. Beyond realms. Beyond the limits of my body. Now I see remembrances of what I once dreamt. I am but a fraction of what I was. But even beheaded, I am still the wise Mímir, the first to drink from the well of knowledge. The first to be granted the vision of the Stone of the Ancients. The last pureblood heir to the House of Bölþorn the Just.” At the invocation of his house and title, Mímir’s skin turned to a proud, Jotun blue and then back to pale.

“Then you know of a way to wake him?”

“I see patience is lost on you. A millennia and my first guests cannot even humour an old man the chance to goad.” The head laughed, bemused by your dismissal of his grand introduction. “Very well. No, I cannot help you, but I keep the one who does.”

“What do you mean by keep?”

“Her reliquaries, your boy here immobilised them just by thinking it.”

“The statues?”

“Yes. Twenty-seven suits of armour for the twenty-seven pieces of my sister that Bor hacked with his axe.”

“Your sister?”

“Bestla.”

“Bor did that to Bestla? I thought they were lovers. Why would he do that his own wife?”

“Wife?” Mímir shouted the word as if it were a preposterous thing. “Ha! Is that the spin the Æsir are using now? Wiping away the blood from their history books, I see. Bestla was never Bor’s wife! Not by choice. She was his peace treaty. His flesh and blood armistice with the Jotuns after the Dark Alliance threatened to end the war; with him on the losing side!” His real eye flashed, lips moving with no sound. A spell had been cast. “I’ll let her speak for herself.”

Torches burst in blue flame. Suddenly, Jotun script burned to life, etching itself into the wall beside the moving tapestries of what could only be living history.

“It has been a long time since I ever saw our histories unfold on these walls,” Mímir sighed, half sadness, half gratitude. “It will be a refreshing change of pace, having someone know of the true story.”

Baldrick, drawn to the magic, began to read aloud, his tongue picking up the Jotun language with fluency. Dust, once housed in the shattered pieces of armour, began to materialise into a cloud. It roped around the room in an orb-like shape, drawn to you like a moth to flame.

Then, after Baldrick read the final inscription aloud, a piercing pain brought you to your knees. The mark of Odin sparking with life, a scream leaving your lips. Somehow the mark was interfering with the spell Baldrick had just unknowingly cast.

“Oh, no-no-no-no!” Mímir panicked. “You were marked. Quick, boy, grab one of the reliquary’s swords and hold it over the flame. Sorry, lass, but this will sting, we have to sever the mark’s connection to Odin’s magic.”

Baldrick rushed to do as Mímir said, his little feet working hurriedly. When he reached you, the sword that was too big for his grip glowed with the heat of the blue flames, threatening to bring a whole new kind of pain

“What will happen to me once the Ægishjalmar is gone?” you squeezed the raw muscle near your mark. Your mind flashed to the battle in the throne room again. To the frostbite of unbridled power.

“I know what you fear. I saw the battle in the throne room. I saw what you became because of Odin’s magic. The power you wield will be your own, I assure you, lass.” Mímir’s cadence was truthful, assured.

“Will it be dangerous?” you asked. “My magic?”

“All magic is dangerous, lass. The sooner you embrace that, the sooner you find balance.”

Baldrick searched your expression, needing to know whether to proceed or not. With a bitter taste in your mouth—partly for not wanting him to have to do something so hard, partly for your own sake—you bit down on a belt strap and nodded.

The burn was subliminal compared to having Odin’s passive magic seared out of you. It was like having a piece of you stolen without ever realising it was there to begin with. When the smell of burning flesh diffused, and the blade dropped to the ground, you felt dizzy, not as sober as before.

The magic that was denied to complete itself before was now free to continue without the resistance of Odin’s magic. The dust from the reliquaries wasn’t dust at all, they were ashes, the vestiges of Bestla.

The ashes coalesced into a physical mimicry of Bestla—and she looked every bit as fierce and beautiful as she had in the book. Tall, strong arms, midnight hair, long and thick to her tailbone. The red of her Jotun eyes was diluted, cloudy. And the tribal markings painted on her face and arms was of a powdered white. She was a vision. Demanding. Anomalistic.

“Ahhh,” Bestla breathed in deep, taking in air till her lungs promised to burst. “It has been ages since I felt the cold. The air. Light.” She laughed in glee. Slightly mad, but she was excused of that twistedness.

“And it is good to see you again, dear sister,” Mímir laughed.

Bestla turned quick on her heels, a stretch to her cheeks from her growing smile, “Mim? I never imagined I’d ever see you again.” She crossed over to his side of the room in two quick strides. Her fingers hovered over the jewel he had in one of his eye cavities. “Who did this to you?”

“Your son,” he said, downcast.

Bestla let out a contemplative hum, not in the least surprised, “So, he turned out just like his father.”

“I tried my best, but he had too much of his father’s pride, too much of that Æsir spirit.”

The giantess turned to you and then the boy, “You have finally come.”

You staggered to your feet, patience fully wilted, “It seems, every portal I jump through, every new world I discover, and every new person I meet, knows of what I am and what I will do before I do. I must admit, it is quite frustrating.”

“I can only imagine. You travelled all this way for hope, for a way to wake the one you love. Love… It has been a while since I felt its aura. It is beautiful on you. And waning. As is the construct of time,” Bestla closed the distance between the two of you, her height seeming doubled from up close. You opened your mouth to speak, but she countered with a raised hand. “Yes, I know of a way to wake him.” She waved her hand and your memories of the throne room battle were pulled from your mind, displayed in illusions of light and shadow. “When Odin cast the incantation, he unleashed your full potential. That potential is as mine was, once.” She waved her hand again and the illusion turned to that of a blue box, slithering with light. The Jotun Artefact that gave you your power. “This is the Stone of the Ancients. One of six. My people guarded it for generations. Its essence was intertwined with the very fabric of Jotunheim, as a heart does to a body, so when the Æsir stole it from our temples to use as a weapon against the Vanir during the First Great War, our planet fell to ruin. Ruin and endless winters.”

The illusion showed the decimation of spring and summer from the unimaginable beauty of a Jotunheim you had never seen before. A Jotunheim of peace and vibrancy that was all wiped away for the frozen tundra you knew all too well.

“You mean… it was Bor that started the war between the Giants and the Asgardians?” you asked.

“Aye, lass, the very same Tyrant King,” Mímir said. “Your dark prince isn’t the heir to a murderous legacy, he is the heir of the wronged. Heir to desolation as long as the Stone of the Ancients is never returned to Jotunheim.”

“Is that why I was lead here? You want me to help you restore Jotunheim?”

Bestla and Mímir shook their heads. You knew that look. It was the look of loss.

“No, dear one, Jotunheim is lost. Forever.” She said. “Fate is a tricky thing. My brother has seen how I meet my end, and I require you to do so. I swore to have my revenge, and I will, with your help.”

“If… If I help you, you will show me how to wake Loki?”

“You already know how to,” Bestla waved her hand and replayed the moment after energy ripped from your body. Then you were gurgling on the ground, hand stretched out to touch Loki’s as he bled on the floor. Breath hitched. Pained. And then you saw something new, the magic took over your body for a moment, and free from Odin’s spell, you spoke an incantation of your own. Slivers of your magic swimming across the marble floors to latch onto Loki’s fingernails and swim up the stream of his veins to rest around his cheeks.

Baldrick’s mouth pried open, a Jotun word leaving his mouth.

Bestla continued speaking as the illusion dissolved to the image of Loki hovering on a gold curtain of light in the healing chamber: “You saved his life. Our magic, our connection to the stone is primal. It is instinct and memory and emotion. That is why I cursed the Stone before I was locked in those reliquaries. I ensured only those who would understand my pain, the depths of my betrayal, would gain the stone’s power—women. And when Odin hid the stone on earth, he never imagined it would infect those on Midgard as it did to my people. But I never imagined he’d use that as a way to experiment on the women, to make them his weapons of destruction against my own kind, all the while making them believe they were chosen. God kissed. But if he never did, then you wouldn’t be here now. Like I said, fate is a tricky thing.

“When you reached for your prince—for Loki—you weren’t simply praying to no-one, you were praying to the stone. And it heard you. So it placed him in a deep slumber as it healed him from within, but the physical was not all that was damaged. Loki is a fraught boy. Torn apart by two halves that will always be at war. And in that throne room, one half finally won, and to him, it was the wrong half. The monster he was taught to hate. The monster all children are taught to fear: the Giant. I know of a spell that will allow you to enter his mind and bring him back, but like all things—”

“It comes with a price,” you weren’t the least bit surprised, but being a pawn in everyone else’s plans was becoming a thorn in your side. “And if I refuse?”

Bestla gave you an apologetic look, “Child, I said fate was tricky, I never said we got to choose.” She waved her hand one last time, and suddenly you were levitating from the floor, vision going black, ears ringing.

“Do not fret, when you awake, the answer will be as familiar to you as walking,” Bestla promised. “For familiar magic tends to want to be understood.”

Then, nothing. Just black and hard floor.

  ~Heimdall

When Heimdall and the rest of his companions reached the side of the mountain where the entrance to Mímir’s Tomb was, it was already sunrise the next day.

Moving his hands close to one another in the way of the old ways, he spoke in his native Vanir tongue, using blood to smear his handprint on a circular plate centred on the door.

In short order, the doors pried apart in slow motions, dust and the smell of ancients flooding out of the tomb.

“There is a chance the protection seals are still in place, enter with caution, and with weapons drawn,” he told the others as they disappeared into the maw of the tomb.

Heimdall gasped when he saw the reliquary statues broken to pieces. Whoever had done this possessed strong magic, but it couldn’t have been Y/N’s, she was still weak from the leeching, still new to her power. The pedestal where Mimir’s head had been laid to rest was bare, no sign of the one-eyed prophet anywhere.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Mímir? How? It’s not like a head can just sprout legs and walk away,” Fandral said. “I must say, I am a little disappointed. Missing the chance to see one of the last living survivors of the Great War, it does sting a little. Imagine all the secrets her held.”

“Could we have trusted them?” Sif said with some restraint, nowhere near as enthusiastic as Fandral. “He was locked away for a reason. Probably because he was dangerous.”

“And now he is gone,” Volstagg said.

“A problem for another day,” Heimdall said.

“Over here!” Hogun shouted from a dark corner of the room, behind the centre pedestal, dagger locked in place. “I found them.”

“Them?” Sif ran in Hogun’s direction and Heimdall followed.

On the floor was Y/N, out cold, but alive. Her essence was changed, almost exonerated of another’s influence, yet not completely alone. There was something else banging around in the softest, more quiet parts of her magic. Something new. He noticed then that her brand was cauterised from her flesh. Next to her was a boy, strange, bearing a hefty presence. He was the wielder of the magic that destroyed the protective seals on the reliquaries. For someone so young, that was unfounded. What was his connection to Y/N, Heimdall wondered.

He picked her off the floor while Hogun carried the boy. With ease creeping into his chest, he said, “Let’s go home.”

[bretttal]

“ it’s okay! he’s with me. ”

henrietta lacks, the first ever human being to have her cells immortalised. ever since, HeLa cells have been saving humanity in ways imaginable and not. thanks to it, polio was eliminated — and these superhero cells keep on living. of course, the book brett is reading informs, that henrietta lacks herself never granted permission of such theft.

whether she liked it or not, part of her remains eternal.

＊＊＊

the book popped up on brett’s feed a month ago, and has been the slow read he turns to when he needs a distraction. 

after all the near deaths — he actually died, but he didn’t tell anyone — his parents decided to leave for a better place. they ended up in rural virginia, somewhere the nemeton cannot reach.

upon arrival, brett knew something was off about henrietta. unlike the beacon hills, there is no death-calling stump — rather, there is something hidden in their dreams.

this is where he meets kavinsky, the hurricane that swept brett off his feet.

＊＊＊

kavinsky’s dream is to go out in a bang — like fireworks, beautiful and transient. that is to say, he exists in a place that represents the exact opposite of his trajectory.

＊＊＊

“ it’s okay! he’s with me. ” 

kavinsky’s announces with a dagger-edged grin, arms spread wide like a pair of wings. they are at a club where everything is intoxicating, the music, the lights, the scents — but nothing compares to kavinsky’s sing-song command, which happens to be both persuasive and instigating.

brett wants to warn him — if reading and minding his own business got brett into trouble, gods know what will happen if kavinsky interferes with his unyielding nature — but the strangers pulls his fist back. now released from the stranger’s aggressive hold, brett’s eyes dart to the side, catching a glimpse of kavinsky’s expression despite the dim-lit environment. 

irritation bounces off kavinsky like sparks, looking for something — anything — to burn.

＊＊＊

here in henrietta, kavinsky is a king. well, a false king, but powerful nonetheless. when he speaks, people listen. well, most people do.

but ronan lynch is not most people. 

＊＊＊

kavinsky drops on the couch and takes the spot next to brett, the residue of his unhappy conversation with ronan lynch earlier still heavy in the air. kavinsky pulls out a cigarette and lights it fire red, then he stares off into the distance while brett stares at him.

“ not gonna lie, ” when he speaks, kavinsky glances at him, his sultry gaze enough to pierce a hole in his chest. volume turning down another notch, brett admits, “ that was pretty cool. ”

a familiar shark grin spreads on kavinsky’s face, and brett is suddenly underwater. he watches, in slow motion, the glass kavinsky slots into his hand, then the reverted baritone of kavinsky’s low mumble pressing close to his ear, leaving on his skin a probing question. 

“ are you going to say no too? ”

＊＊＊

kavinsky has many flaws, all of which he wears proudly as medals along with a heart made of glass. brett cannot understand how ronan missed the point — that kavinsky was chasing after him — when kavinsky was so transparent.

＊＊＊

kavinsky, sleeping-with-a-gun-in-hand kavinsky. finger is always on the trigger, always ready to shoot — he simply hasn’t decided at whom yet.

＊＊＊

“ i told you i don’t drink. ”

brett reiterates for the umpteenth time. kavinsky laughs, downing the shiny liquid himself then slamming the empty glass on the small table. brett didn’t want to add to kavinsky’s tally of rejection but it can’t be helped — or can it?

somewhere to the right, prokopenko snorts. brett knows prokopenko knows, and prokopenko knows brett knows — they are in the same chase after kavinsky.

“ fine. but you’ll come to fourth of july with me. ”

kavinsky grins even harder, as though he is trying to split his face apart. brett continues to stare — maybe he can also steal a piece of kavinsky and keep it forever.

＊＊＊

kavinsky’s dream is to go out in a bang, which means brett’s mission is to prevent the bang from ever happening. 

unfortunately, cancelling fourth of july isn’t an option.

＊＊＊

just before the dragon explodes, brett moves and puts himself between kavinsky and his creation. 

werewolves aren’t invincible, especially not against fire raging fire; but he is more durable than kavinsky, body and soul, so he decides to take a chance. he has died and come back, after all; maybe he can do it again.

maybe this is why he became a werewolf. maybe this is why he was given this power. 

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Can You Imagine? VIII

A/N: More fun weirdness! I wanted to clarify something (again, because I am doing a lot of weird things here lol) really quick, and that is that any inconsistencies are meant to be there! Anything that feels like metagaming is supposed to be there as well. Basically, if it feels wrong? It isn't! I have begun to introduce a few more themes to this scenario, so hopefully you'll all be able to start figuring out what's going on here! If not, don't worry, all will be revealed soon :) Skål!

Summary:  Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

--

Your Obedient Servant

Ivar had chosen to go to Vestfold. Freydis, now alone in Kattegat, could not stop pacing the floor of the Great Hall, anxiously waiting for her husband to return- to return with their baby. Her heart ached for the loneliness in her bed at night, and in her home during the day. Ivar would catch Harald by surprise, she was certain of it. He couldn't know what had happened in Kattegat, that they had caught the man who had been his spy in their walls, and worked the reply from him. Now, it was only a matter of time before her husband returned victorious to her.

But something else was coming, was happening there in Kattegat. Freydis was called from her chambers in the middle of the night by one of her husband's warriors. A ship had just come into Kattegat, and was docking as they spoke. So, she got up and she dressed. Whoever was coming couldn't know what had happened to her, and to her baby, and that her husband had gone to war to get him home.

She now sat in the Great Hall again, back straight on her throne, hands folded neatly in her lap, as she waited to be joined by the newcomers. There was no information yet on who they were, but she would know soon enough. She just had to be patient.

And her patience paid off. The doors were soon opened, and in were brought a few people who she hadn't expected to see. She didn't know them all well, but she recognized them from her years in Kattegat before Ivar became King again.

"Lagertha," she hummed, and stood to approach the older woman. "You are brave to come here. Why would you risk coming to Kattegat when you know Ivar would take your head, the moment he sees you?"

Lagertha gave a small, knowing smile. "And where is Ivar?" she questioned. "I can imagine you are his Queen, but why is it he would send you out to receive us, in the middle of the night? We could have been... anyone. Someone who would be a danger to you and this Kingdom."

"Aren't you?" Freydis pointed out. "You are his enemy, and he is King. I know you wish to take this Kingdom for yourself, or for your son, Bjorn Ironside. But Ivar has won Kattegat, and you will not have it."

"How do you know we won't take it? We could have an army coming behind us. Our goal could be to kill you, and then your husband, and we would have the throne."

One of the men behind her had said that, and she knew him to be Bjorn Ironside himself. Freydis smirked, and held up her hand.

"Because you could not kill me," she replied. "You can attack, but you will not win."

Lagertha, Bjorn, Ubbe, and Torvi all felt the tension in the room thicken when she lifted her hand. The guards, the warriors, were suddenly afraid. What power did their Queen have over them to make them so afraid? They had no desire to find out.

"Where is Ivar?" Ubbe asked, shifting on his feet and crossing his arms. "He wouldn't send his wife to do something important like this. He would come himself."

Freydis hummed and returned to sitting on her throne. "He has other business," she said. "You will all be held until he is able to see you." A flick of her hand, and the warriors were moving in to make an arrest.

"Held?" Lagertha asked, lifting a brow. "You mean that we are to be your prisoners, then?"

Freydis nodded. "I do," she said. "He should deal with you himself, Ubbe is right. I could, of course, deliver your heads to him on a plate, but he has expressed many times how he wishes to take them himself."

"And so you do not care why we have come to Kattegat?" Lagertha questioned then, and Freydis smiled with a false sweetness.

"I do not," she said. "You have come for some reason, business with my husband, I assume, and I will hold you so he can handle it with you when he is able to do so. Until then..." She chuckled. "I cannot say to make yourselves comfortable. Prison is not comfortable." She nodded to her warriors, and they locked the hands of each visitor together, before taking them away.

Well, this was certainly an unexpected turn of events, Freydis thought, and Freydis didn't like things to be unexpected. Unexpected things were hard to control, and she needed to have control here. No. She did have control here.

More and more days passed, and Ivar did not return home. He did not bring Baldur, and no word came from Vestfold. She was growing anxious now, wondering how long it would be before she got word.

One of these days, a farmer came to her, and begged an audience. He was panting, afraid, out of breath, and so Freydis granted him an audience immediately. Considering the lack of Ivar and Baldur returning, this farmer’s fear had her far more worried than she may have been before.

The farmer told Freydis that he had heard from others that scouts had been spotted within the borders of Kattegat, even if not within the city’s walls just yet. He couldn’t say who the scouts belonged to, what kingdom, but Freydis knew. There were no coincidences, and if Ivar had still not returned…

The men were Harald’s.

It took her hours to decide what to do, and as she stood and paced the length of her hall, she finally came to a decision- much as she hated it- for the good of her people. Freydis was no Shieldmaiden, no legendary figure to rally behind, but Lagertha, and Björn Ironside… They were figures who could get the entire kingdom to arms.

She called for Lagertha to be sent to her throne room.

As soon as the ex-Queen came into the room, Freydis ordered her restraints to be removed, and the guards in the room to leave them. The older woman was incredibly confused by all of this, watching the Queen look out a window, anxiety written so clearly across her features.

“I have no doubt you have realized Ivar is not in Kattegat,” she said, and Lagertha hummed in acknowledgement of this.

“I have,” she said. “He would not have put off this confrontation if he were here, as badly as he wants to kill me. It was the only conclusion I could draw.”

“You were correct,” Freydis said. “He has gone to King Harald.”

Lagertha seemed a bit surprised for a moment, and asked, “So Ivar is in York?”

Freydis looked to her, almost as if confused, and said, “King Harald is not in York. He is…”

“In Vestfold, of course,” Lagertha said, and shook her head. “Should I begin again?”

Freydis tilted her head. “Begin-?” she began to ask, but before she could finish her question, Lagertha was doing exactly as she’d asked if she should. It was if York had never been mentioned.

“So Ivar is in Vestfold?” she questioned, and Freydis blinked a few times.

“That… is my belief, yes,” she said slowly. Why had Lagertha asked if she should begin again? Why not simply correct herself? Freydis tested her. “Why would you think he was in York?”

“I never mentioned York,” Lagertha said. “King Harald rules from Vestfold, I do not see how York would be relevant.”

Freydis nodded a little. “Yes,” she confirmed. Perhaps some things were best unquestioned. “Before he left, I promised him I would have everything here under control, but I fear now that is not true. Scouts have been spotted entering Kattegat, and I have no doubt they are from Vestfold.”

Lagertha’s brows creased. She was beginning to get the picture, that Freydis was asking her for tactical advice. An interesting development, but a welcome one. “Why should King Harald send scouts here if your husband is visiting him, if you are allies?”

“Because I believe he has laid a trap for Ivar,” Freydis finally confessed. “And our son was the bait.”

Immediately, Lagertha grew more serious. Whatever her concerns with Ivar, whatever discontent was between them, neither Freydis nor her son were a part of that, and as a mother… She knew the fear Freydis must have been feeling. As a wife, as well. The only family Freydis had was likely in King Harald’s custody, and not as guests. It was a terrible thing.

“And the scouts have come to see what sort of defense was left in Kattegat,” Lagertha surmised. Freydis nodded.

“Ivar took enough warriors with him to save our son, but he would be invading Vestfold to do so. He needed more of our men with him than left here. But King Harald was counting on this, and now he has sent scouts to see if he was right.”

“Was he?” Lagertha asked. The almost miserable look on Freydis’s face answered her question. “And so what is it you want from me? I am a prisoner to you. I killed your husband’s mother. I know you… cannot be fond of me. So why have you called me?”

With a deep breath, Freydis replied, “Because I believe you love Kattegat, and the people of Kattegat. King Harald’s forces will attack, and you will want to save Kattegat. Am I wrong?”

Lagertha gave a small chuckle. “I doubt you ever are,” she said. “And you are not, now. You know I am a mother, and I have been a wife. I understand your pain. But though I may understand, I can do nothing, not without talking to Björn. He is our leader now, but if I can convince him to defend Kattegat, and help you rescue your husband and son, I will do so.”

“Ivar is Björn’s brother,” Freydis said. “Ubbe’s too. That will win them to my cause. Yes?”

Lagertha nodded. “Yes,” she confirmed. “It will.”

“And Torvi will follow Ubbe, and yourself.”

“She will.”

Freydis gave a curt nod. “Return to your company, then. I will wait for your decision.”

Less than an hour passed, and all four of those who had fled to Wessex stood before Freydis. She currently was debating with Björn, but she knew how this game was played. She had everything under control, and he would give in.

“We cannot save Ivar, just for him to turn against us, and mount our heads on the walls of Kattegat,” he was currently arguing, and Freydis rolled her eyes.

“You are his brothers, he would not hurt you,” she said.

“He tried to kill Sigurd.”

“No, he didn’t,” Freydis said, and Ubbe nodded.

“She is right,” he said. “He has never tried to hurt Sigurd. They are closest in age, and the closest brothers. He loves him.”

Björn only seemed confused for a moment, before he seemed to abandon the idea of Ivar hurting them at all. “We cannot be expected to fight for him for nothing, not when he has wronged us by taking our home,” he settled on.

“And so what do you want, in order to agree to this?” she asked.

“Ivar is our brother, we should fight to save him for that reason alone,” Ubbe said, and Björn scoffed.

“That is the only reason I am considering this,” he pointed out. “But I want the wrongs righted, if we do this.” Björn turned his gaze back to Freydis, and he announced, “I want the throne of Kattegat, if we are successful.”

All eyes widened, but Freydis nodded. “Done,” she said. Ivar might not kill one of his brothers, but Freydis was unafraid to do so, if it saved her husband and her son. Björn would never sit on the throne of Kattegat.

It was a shock when word spread, of the alliance that had been made, but just as Freydis had predicted, those in Kattegat who could fight had rallied quickly behind Lagertha and Björn, as well as Ubbe and Torvi, who were also well loved by them.

Preparations began to defend Kattegat, and all went smoothly. The people were trained, readied for battle, and when the time finally came, Freydis realized she always had had everything under control. After all, they defeated the men Harald sent with ease.

This had, of course, partially been due to the magic she possessed, and once the battle was won, the damage being repaired, she found herself sitting with Lagertha in the Great Hall, only the two of them. For a while, there had been perfect silence, neither wanting to speak of the rather large topic that waited to be addressed. Eventually, Lagertha was the one to bring it up.

“Ivar’s mother was a Seeress,” she said. “Perhaps a Völva, I cannot say for sure.” Freydis looked up at her curiously, tilting her head to the side as she waited for Lagertha to continue. “I had… previously heard of your power, that it was said you, also, were a Völva, a stronger one, but the power I have seen you wield today is nothing like I have seen in all my years of life.”

Freydis hummed, nodding slowly, almost as if to herself. “You are correct,” she finally replied. “There are none who have my power, not in this world. I imagine in another world, perhaps there may be more like me, but here, I am alone in my abilities.”

“You are not a Völva, are you?” Lagertha questioned, and Freydis shook her head. “A witch? A sorceress?”

Freydis couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left her. “I wish I knew,” she said. “I have debated if monster weren’t the right word more than I am happy to say.” She sighed. “Some days, I wish I did not have this power. I wish things were just Ivar, myself, and Baldur. This… magic, I have…” The young woman held up her hand, letting the red smoke seep out of her, dance at he fingertips once more. “I hardly understand it. I have never been a Shieldmaiden, nor did I ever desire to be one, and yet I am more fit to defending this Kingdom than any I have met before.”

She would have excused her statement to Lagertha, but she spoke the truth. It would have been no good. Lagertha had seen the way Freydis had simply lifted men twice her size, thrown them into the side of a building with a red haze and broken their backs, the way she had caught a ball of fire, hurled at them from a distance, in that same red haze, and returned it to their enemies. She had seen her eyes glow red, had seen men on the battlefield lose consciousness from shock and fear, and those were the ones now held in the same place Lagertha and her companions had been kept, waiting until Freydis could demand information about her husband and child from them.

Lagertha had never met someone with the power Freydis held, and that was the truth to the Gods.

“What will we do about Ivar?” she eventually asked, as the silence stretched out once more, and Freydis hummed.

“At first light, I will learn all I can. Then we will depart for Vestfold with our new forces, I will take King Harald’s head, and we will save Ivar and Baldur.”

There was another nod from Lagertha, who finished her ale, and stood. “Then I must rest,” she said. “I am not as young as I once was, and battle is harder on these bones.” Freydis chuckled a little and nodded.

“I understand,” she said. “I doubt if I will sleep tonight.”

The confession didn’t surprise either of them, and so Lagertha put her hand on Freydis’s arm, and tilted her chin up with her still free hand.

“With the power in your veins, we will not be defeated,” she assured her. “You know you will win the battle for us. You will kill Harald, as you said, and we will save your husband, and your son. Rest with the knowledge you will be the decider of this battle, and that you cannot lose. And if you cannot sleep, then pray for us all. I fear many of us still will lose our lives in this battle.”

“Not you, though,” Freydis said. “I have heard you were a farmer once, hm?” Lagertha nodded. “You will be again, if you wish. My husband will spare you, when he learns what you have done for him. Saving his child will be payment enough for killing his mother.”

Lagertha smiled a little, giving Freydis’s shoulder a squeeze. “I hope your words are true,” she said. “But if they are not, I will face Ivar in any way he decides.”

With that, she left Freydis to her drink, and left her to stew in it. They were all going into the dark, she felt, and there was little she could do to dispel that feeling. The best she could do was prepare for the next battle, hopefully that would be in the city of Vestfold, where they could corner Harald’s army, and save Ivar and Baldur.

Thoughts of strategy filled her mind, and as she said to Lagertha, she did not sleep that night. She could not sleep, not if she wanted to keep a careful control of everything.

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[fremedon]

Brickclub I.5.13, “Resolving Some Questions of Municipal Policing”

“Curiosity is a form of gluttony," Hugo says, of the onlookers trying to peer through the station house door. "To see is to devour."

This is the most direct statement of a theme Hugo comes back to over and over--the destructive power of gossip and idle curiosity. It's a theme that pulls a lot of weight, but starting on this reread so soon after my last one, one thing I'm wondering is how much that theme is supposed to be setting us up to excuse Marius's lack of inquiry into the version of his history Valjean shares.

Observations on Fantine:

--Fantine, a panther during the fight, now cowers "like a frightened dog" in the station. I think the panther line might be the only feline metaphor Fantine gets. 

--"She would have softened a heart of granite, but you cannot soften a heart of wood." Fantine has been turning herself to stone for the last few chapters, but there are worse things to be.

--And one of those is to become even stonier. In her last monologue, right before she attempts to leave: "Oh! I won't do it again, Monsieur Javert! Whatever anyone does to me now, I won't react in any way." 

--Fantine's two long monologues keep coming back to two points: The injustice of prison wages, both to the prisoners and their competitors, and her ability to be respectable when given the means to support herself. She used to have so many changes of underwear, and now she just has one silk dress for the evenings. She still owes 100 francs to the Thenardiers, but she's up to date on her rent now, just ask her landlord. And at the end, Madeleine agrees with this: "I will give you all the money you need. You shall again become honest in again becoming happy." 

We've seen, and will continue to see, how the lack of means bars access to 'honesty'/respectability, but the reverse of that statement is surprisingly hopeful: only provide the means to live honestly, and a person will be honest. 

--Madeleine and Javert's battle for Fantine's liberty is framed almost exactly like the battle for Valjean's soul between his convict self and the bishop in "Petit-Gervais," and Fantine's heart softening back to trust is a much more direct parallel of Valjean's change of heart than I had realized. Valjean never manages to reach Javert this way, but he does pull Fantine back to humanity for her final weeks.

There is one major difference, though, and it’s not actually in the level of their transgressions. Fantine has spit in the face of the mayor in the place of his power; Valjean has stolen a sentimental treasure from his host, in the home where he was given shelter. Both insults are a thing that can be absorbed or shrugged off, practically, but with immense symbolic weight behind them. 

But Valjean’s reverie ends with him obliterating the convict within him and letting the bishop take full possession of his soul. Fantine keeps hers. She doesn’t have to go through any of Valjean’s extreme self-abnegation to get her humanity back. 

And speaking of extreme self-abnegation, there’s Javert. This got long. 

Javert, despite being wood and not stone, is the one who gets the statue imagery in this scene. From the moment right before he stops Fantine from leaving, after Madeleine instructs that she be freed: "Up to that moment Javert had stood stock still, staring at the ground, out of place in the midst of this scene like some statue left in the way, waiting to be put somewhere." I am reminded of the cart in Montfermeil--the broken cart that is a metaphor for outmoded institutions, left in the way to finish decaying. Javert, the automaton of the law, is left in the way, waiting for a purpose.  

Twice in this scene, we see him imagine himself an empty vessel for the law. It’s the only kind of grandiosity he ever has--humbleness to the point of self-obliteration, so he can embody The Law. 

The first is while he is first handing down Fantine’s sentence, and I’m going to quote at length: 

"It was one of those moments in which he exercised without restraint, but with all the scruples of a strict conscience, his formidable discretionary power. At this moment he felt that his policeman's stool was a bench of justice. He was conducting a trial. He was trying and condemning. He called all the ideas of which his mind was capable around the grand thing that he was doing. The more he examined the conduct of this girl, the more he revolted at it. It was clear that he had seen a crime committed. He had seen, there in the street, society, represented by a property holder and an elector, insulted and attacked by a creature who was an outlaw and an outcast. A prostitute had assaulted a citizen. He, Javert, had seen that himself. He wrote in silence." (Wilbour)

And the second is after Madeleine intervenes to demand Fantine’s liberty a second time: 

"It was obvious that Javert must have been 'thrown out of kilter,' as they say, to allow himself to address the sergeant the way he did after the mayor's request that Fantine should be set free. Could he have forgotten monsieur le maire's presence? Had he in the end convinced himself it was impossible that any authority could have given such an order, and that surely monsieur le maire must have said one thing instead of another without meaning to? Or in view of the outrages he had witnessed over the past two hours, did he tell himself it was necessary to act with the utmost resolve, that the humble must assume greatness, the sleuth must turn himself into a judge, the police agent must become an agent of justice, and that in this exceptional extremity he, Javert, was the personification of law, order, morality, government, the whole of society?" (Donougher)

Hoooo boy. There is just so much to unpack here, and I’m glad we have another year and change of brickclub to keep unpacking it. 

Just on the surface: Law, order, morality, government, and society are all the same thing to Javert. The purpose of law is to uphold the social order. It is a contradiction in terms that authority should seek to undermine itself: 

"Javert felt he was about to go mad. At that moment he underwent in rapid succession and almost all at once the most violent emotions he had ever experienced in his life. To see a common prostitute spit in the face of a mayor--this was something so monstrous that in his most dreadful imaginings he would have regarded it as sacrilege to believe it were possible. On the other hand, obscurely, at the back of his mind, he made a hideous comparison between what this woman was and what this mayor might be, and then he had an inkling of something very simple about this extraordinary attack that appalled him. But when he saw this mayor, this magistrate, calmly wipe his face and say, 'Set this woman free,' he was stunned, thoughts and words failed him equally. His capacity for astonishment was exceeded. He remained speechless." (Donougher)

Refusing to punish this transgression against established hierarchies undercuts Madeleine’s legitimacy in his head so much that he takes it upon himself to contradict the mayor, to argue with him, to put forward his abstract embodied Authority as more valid than the mayor’s actual authority. Madeleine only wins by literally citing the legal code, in a scene that reads almost like a battle between wizards. 

Going back to Fantine’s attempted departure--"The sound of the latch roused him. He raised his head with an expression of supreme authority, an expression that is always the more frightening the lower the level at which power is invested, ferocious in the wild beast, atrocious in the man of no account." Wilbour says "in the undeveloped man"; I prefer Donougher here, because it gets the ambiguity in "the lower the level at which power is invested"--both that power is frightening in the hands of beings who cannot, personally, wield it well,  but also that small concentrations of unaccountable power create petty tyrannies. 

Javert knows he is a small man who, on his own merits, neither possesses nor deserves power over others. But he is a small man channeling the whole of social authority, and that makes him terrifying. 

If what he were channeling was actually Justice, it would also make him--well, it would make him Enjolras. But it’s not. I talked a couple of chapters ago about the themes I’m starting to think of as Hugo’s major arcana, and one of the big ones is Fatalite. He brings it up in the very first sentence of the prologue: 

“So long as there shall exists, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the face of civilization, artificially creates hells on earth, and complicates with human fatalite a destiny that is divine...”  

The divine destiny--the intention of Providence--seems to be whatever humanity is capable of achieving. Fatalite is whatever human-made factors interfere with that achievement: Social condemnation. Custom. And Law. It’s all fatalite.  

The more Javert imagines himself an empty vessel for the law, the more self-abnegating he is in his duty, the worse he is, because what he is channeling is the force that creates hells on earth. 

He has lost this purity in Paris, and to some extent that accompanies real tolerance of corruption--this Javert would have resigned rather than serve with men he knows are taking bribes and enabling double agents like Le Cabuc. But this Javert would also never have casually granted Bigrenaille's request for tobacco in solitary. And I’m not sure this Javert would have noticed the grievances in his suicide memo--certainly, he doesn’t respond at all to Fantine’s repeated refrain about the prison wages. 

I really like @everyonewasabird's idea that Javert, in frightening Fantine to death--in taking an innocent life, one he has no claim over--Javert will break a geas. He loses the ability to be this empty vessel, and is muddling through on his own instincts and prejudices after that--and his own instincts and prejudices are terrible, make no mistake. But they’re malleable, in a way that the whole force of abstract social condemnation isn’t.

And also, god, now I’m thinking about Valjean standing there listening to Fantine talk about the unfairness of prison wages. What must be going through his head.  

[amuelia]

do you think the red wedding outcome would happen in a universe where domeric bolton lived & fought in the WOTFK? would he have remained loyal to the starks, or have been included in roose's plans?

This is an interesting ask, but unfortunately also one with a lot of unknown variables... I will divide this long reply into chapters:

Characterization of Domeric

We only know little about Domeric’s personality. We know that he was a “quiet boy”, very talented with a diverse array of hobbies. We also know that he was friends with Lord Redfort’s sons, implying that his quiet personality doesn’t translate to him being a loner and that he has a social streak to him - he also later wants a brother by his side, so it seems he was lonely in the Dreadfort and craved company.

In the Vale, Domeric had enjoyed the company of Redfort's sons. He wanted a brother by his side, so he rode up the Weeping Water to seek my bastard out.

We know nothing about Domeric’s feelings about the Starks. He was born and raised a Bolton, who historically do not have the best relationship with the Starks; despite Boltons bending the knee to House Stark, we do not have a recorded marriage between the two houses. However, Domeric spent 4 years as Lady Dustin’s page and 3 years at the Redfort, opening up the possibility that his values might not have been entirely influenced by Roose (similar to how Ned got an education in honorable values through Jon Arryn). Barbrey is known to despise the Starks, but was also Brandon’s lover and is shown in aDwD to still have fondness for him, so it is unsure which values she might have imparted on Domeric.

Domeric is said to have been a good jouster, and enjoyed the company of his friends. He might have liked being part of Robb’s honor guard, which has at least several characters that seem to be around his age (i got the impression it’s all young people, like a squad for Robb).

While we never hear about Domeric being cruel or unlikable, we also have to take into account that most of his descriptions come from his own father talking about him, who has reason to concentrate on the positive aspects. Barbrey seems to have loved him, but she is also his aunt, and since her positon as Lady of Barrowton forces her into being an eternal widow, she might have seen Domeric as a son of sorts, so she would have been biased. We also know he was good friends with the Redforts, so he probably does have charme to his personality and does not present himself in an unlikable way. However I do not think this necessarily has to translate into him being a good person or a “cinnamon roll”; there’s plenty of characters in the books that are well liked and charming but still commit war crimes and other cruelties.

Relationship to Roose

Roose never makes a direct statement about his relationship to Domeric. We know he took care to give him a good education (music, histories, and fighting are mentioned), and he sent him to House Dustin and House Redfort to be fostered which is a great opportunity for a young Lordling to forge connections. 

I believe Roose expresses fondness for Domeric in the way he talks about him; He mentions him and then launches into a long reminiscence without much of a reason (thought granted that is pretty much the theme of that chapter), he proudly mentions all his talents and how gifted he was, and seems to talk with a certain sadness/bitterness:

Now his bones lie beneath the Dreadfort with the bones of his brothers, who died still in the cradle, and I am left with Ramsay.

Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself. 

Unfortunately that doesn’t necessarily need to translate back into Domeric being fond of his father - We can compare this to Roose’ relationship to Barbrey, where he seems to put trust and effort into her (”How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we'd retain if the truth were known? Only Lady Barbrey“ | “[Roose] takes care to keep me sweet”), while she on the other hand talks in a very disillusioned way about him (”Roose has no feelings, you see.”). We do know Roose appears to be the only Bolton (besides Ramsay), so the lonely Domeric might feel attachment to him in that aspect. Roose is generally liked by few characters, and often appears cold and unfeeling. He is deeply flawed, has a mean aspect to his character (like his mean sense of humour), is mocked for his strange health habits, and seems to talk a lot and think hes very smart and witty. On the other hand he is also somewhat tolerant/laissez-faire (”Your amusements are your own, I will not chide you on that count”), he seems to have provided Domeric with everything he could want and supported all his hobbies, and judging by how Walda seems to like and trust him (”Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband's arm.”), and he also doesn’t agree with Ramsay’s treatment of Jeyne ("Roose is not pleased. Tell your bastard that."), we can assume that Roose does not treat his family members in a cruel way. It is also worth mentioning that his cold and unfeeling attitude seems to be at least partially motivated by him trying to hide his intentions in fear of them being used against him (in line with his other cautious behaviour), so it might very well be that he is warmer towards people he trusts (Note that we only ever observe him from the PoV of people he is not close to). So while there is a lot to dislike and be annoyed by about Roose, he also has qualities that Domeric might have liked.

It is interesting to analyze the scenes with Roose and Ramsay for how he might have interacted with Domeric. We know Roose loves to educate Ramsay on how to be a good Lord and impart his wisdom to him, and that he also frequently enrages Ramsay with the tone he uses. The quote “I forbade it, but Domeric was a man grown and thought that he knew better than his father.” suggests to me that he might have butted heads with Domeric in a similar way, giving him advice that Domeric doesn’t always listen to. Since Domeric openly disobeyed Roose, it appears he was not scared of his father, and that he had a proud/stubborn aspect to him.

It is of course also important to note the differences: Ramsay is of a lowerclass background (Roose has been shown to be classist - “His blood is tainted, that cannot be denied.”); He has a cruel und unwise personality that might frustrate Roose and make him resort to using a meaner tone with Ramsay; and we know Roose on occasion talks negatively about Ramsay when he is not there (”Ramsay's nature was sly, greedy, and cruel. I count myself well rid of him.“), though he has also talked positively about him in related scenes (”Yet he is a good fighter, as cunning as he is fearless.”). While he talks in a condescending tone to Ramsay and even insults him, he might have had more of a respectful tone to his competent, trueborn son.

Domeric and the Red Wedding

I think in any case, Roose would have tried to take care to keep Domeric out of any great danger. Domeric would have surely argued with him on many points (”Domeric was a man grown and thought that he knew better than his father“), and since he seems to have had martial prowess he would have probably insisted on participating in battle. If Roose had tried to participate in the Red Wedding without Domeric’s knowledge, Domeric would have probably been a nuisance; he appears to be highly intelligent, he has no fear of speaking out against his father if he doesn’t agree with an idea, and he doesnt seem to blindly comply with his fathers wishes if he doesn’t see a reason to. Roose would likely not have let him near a situation as dangerous as the Red Wedding especially if Domeric doesn’t know about the plan, but it might have been hard to get him out of the way without a good reason.

If Domeric knew about the Red Wedding, he would be a good asset, since he’d likely have a position close to Robb (as i mentioned the guard seems like something he’d participate in). However even in this case I think Roose would have tried to keep him out of the Wedding itself, as not to put his sole heir in danger.

However, another problem is that not only does Roose never state his precise list of reasons for the red wedding (making it a point of debate to discern what exactly changes if you change the course of events), according to grrm he also wasn’t even completely set in his tracks to go through with the Red Wedding until pretty much the last minute:

As for Bolton, if you reread all his sections carefully, I think you will see a picture of a man keeping all his options open as long as he could... sniffing the wind, covering his tracks, ready to jump either way... even as late as his supper with Jaime at Harrenhal... - SSM 8/3/2000

Domeric’s presence could influence so many plot points it is hard to say if Roose would have even come to the point of getting the Red Wedding in motion.

Would Domeric even go to war with Roose or would he stay behind as Castellan of the Dreadfort like Ramsay did? Is Ramsay even still there/does he still have a position of power or role in the story? If Ramsay isn’t there do Bran and Rickon even flee and get presumed dead? If Bran and Rickon are still alive does Cat still free Jaime and commit an unpopular political decision? Does Winterfell still burn? It doesn’t seem likely that Roose instructed Ramsay in the minutiae of what happens in Winterfell considering Ramsay is presumed dead before he even enters it; So would Domeric in charge of the Dreadfort have instead opted to liberate Winterfell if someone reached out to him? Note that the disaster at Winterfell seems to be one of the main reasons that Roose considered the Red Wedding:

"I [serve] the King in the North. Or the King Who Lost the North, as some now call him.“ - aSoS, dinner with Jaime

"What … what do you owe me, m'lord?"   -   "The north. The Starks were done and doomed the night that you took Winterfell." He waved a pale hand, dismissive. "All this is only squabbling over spoils."   - aDwD, dialogue with Theon

Also with a trueborn and gifted adult heir, would Roose even have considered marrying a Frey maiden? Would Domeric have wed one instead, or would Roose prefer a better alliance for him? Would Roose marrying a Frey count that much for an alliance if the Frey child wouldn’t even inherit the Dreadfort?

Conclusion

As you see there are many questions and What-Ifs, and probably even more that i didn’t mention considering how much of a butterfly effect all of asoiaf is. So i don’t think there is any “canon answer” to what would have happened; it all hinges on how you interpret Domeric’s personality, his relationship to his father, what changes to the plot his presence might have brought, and how you think Roose might have reacted to them.