#why aren’t you unwell is the real question

[subtextread]

i took off work this week to stay at my alma mater’s encampment, but frankly even before that my bosses would see me in my office and immediately be like are you…..like very unwell. because i just LOOK like what someone who is very distressed about genocide looks.

#why aren’t you unwell is the real question #like why are our offices still open at all

[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 6

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: Romantic! oc x two people because y'all voted on a triangle ;). platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: lots swearing, mentions of the accident and crimes, discussions about gangs, mentions of bars and alcohol. Paranoia and an argument. love triangle crumbs

context: Part 1 and Masterlist…

Comments: massive lore drop but I've tried to keep the story moving and interesting. I'm a sucker for small details so I hope y'all have good memories ;)

"I'm in a witness protection program."

Sadie clenched her jaw, unsure what else to say. Lando and Max were silent.

"What did you see?" Lando's voice was so soft Sadie barely heard him over the road noise.

Her right hand flexed on the steering wheel. "I can't tell you that."

"Why did you volunteer?"

"Because I love F1."

Max chimed in. "You said it's too public, too many cameras."

"What I reported happened after Melbourne and just before SIlverstone. I- I think it would be better if I just told you, wouldn't it."

"Yes," Lando muttered, not meeting her glance.

"Okay, well. I was working a bar in Sydney and witnessed a crime. I was seen calling the cops and..." She took a deep breath. "And let's just say that I had dobbed on someone dangerous. Someone influential and known to police."

"You snitched on a gangster?" Lando's wide eyes would have made Sadie laugh in any other situation. "A real life gangster?"

"I didn't know who they were! I was cornered in an alley the next day and after that I spent all of my money on a two week stay in England. From there, I reported the attempted assault and was told to stay in England for the two weeks. The police said they could use that time to get me into witness protection and set up the right safeguards, if I anonymously testify in court. It happened to be the Grand Prix weekend, so I volunteered instead of sitting around."

"Attempted assault?" Max stressed.

Sadie glanced at him in the rear view and her silence was answer enough. You don't need to know.

"Let me get this right. You snitched on a gang, were threaten and then ran to England?!"

"Yeah, pretty much." Her tone didn't match her racing heart.

"What happened to 'too many cameras'?" Lando toyed with his silver necklace.

"Obviously I didn't consider how dramatically you were going to break your ankle in turn, whatever it was. I figured, as a medic, I’d spend a lot of time in areas with very few to no cameras.”

Sadie glanced at the phone Lando showed her and, with one hand on the wheel, swung them left and down a small side street.

“You are right, though,” Max observed. “The reporters aren’t allowed in the medical tents unless they’re unwell themselves.”

“Is that why you’re in Melbourne? Are you from Sydney?” She could hear curiosity in Lando’s voice.

“It’s complicated.” Sadie grimaced.

“It’s seems like everything is,” Max muttered.

“Oh, shush,” she joked. She knew it had landed when both boys smiled slightly. “I grew up just outside of Melbourne. I’ve been working back at that bar since I was 18. I took some unofficial leave in June to experience working in another city while we had extra staff. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have chosen Sydney.”

The boys were quiet as Sadie explained her time working at bars in Sydney and enjoying the nightlife of another city. She talked about the move up there and the sudden disappearance to England. Some of her stuff was still in Sydney, including some personal keepsakes like a bracelet from her mother. Sadie explained that Lewis and Max knew about the witness protection, but nothing further. She’d only told them when they visited her in hospital the day after the accident and after some significant convincing. She answered questions about her leg and how it had healed, which had turned out to be quite well.

“How much physio did you have to do?” There was guilt in Lando’s question.

“Just some at home things, it was quite easy,” Sadie admitted. She didn’t want to elaborate on the facts she hadn’t done any official physio because she couldn’t afford it. Australian public health care was good, but not that good. “How well has the ankle healed?”

“It was slower than I wanted but I’m cleared for next season which is good.”

Max grumbled, “but he didn’t stop complaining about it for months.”

“I was in pain, mate!”

“I know! You told me every chance you got!”

Sadie smiled at their banter, glad they weren’t holding up walls of suspicion anymore.

As she pulled up to the Piastri Family home, she cleared her throat. “I- ummm… It was good to see you again Lando, and good to meet you Max.”

“Oh no,” Lando chided. “We’re not done, I am not letting you just drive into the sunset again.”

“It’s already dark,” Sadie pointed out. “And that’s not what happened the first time.”

“And on that note, I’m out,” Max exclaimed. “It was lovely to meet you, Sadie. Thank you for what you did at Silverstone.”

He jumped out of the car before she could say anything and practically ran to the red front door of a small, low set home.

Lando undid his seatbelt and turned to face her, pulling a leg onto the seat.

“Sadie, you vanished.”

Straight into then.

“I feel better seeing that you’re in one piece, and not hearing it from news,” she murmured.

“That’s what you have to say?” he scoffed.

Sadie pushed down irritation. She might struggle to stay in one place for very long, but she was a patient person who had drawers of calm, collected masks to choose from.

When she didn’t answer, Lando shook his head and closed his eyes.

“How do you think I felt?” he snapped. “Lewis told me you had stitches. How many? I know you can walk, but how long did it take for the limp to go away? Did you need crutches? Because you know that I did, and you know how long I needed them for.”

“How much did Lewis tell you?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thi-“

“How much, Lando?”

The panicked edge to her voice had Lando pausing, looking closer at her face through whatever haze was over his mind.

“Just that,” he breathed. “He told me you’d needed stitches but were okay. He wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

The fist around Sadie’s heart relaxed slightly as she sighed with relief. “Okay, as long as it was just that.”

“You’re scared,” he stated like he’d only just noticed. His watercolour eyes were lit slightly by a nearby street lamp. They appeared hazel in that light and it was a detail Sadie wished she hadn’t noted.

“I’m paranoid,” she replied just as curtly.

“I was scared,” he admitted, breaking the eye contact.

“That’s fair. If your ankle didn’t heal properly, your career might’ve been over.”

“No, that’s not- Well I was scared about that but I meant that I was scared for you.”

Sadie frowned. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t know if you were okay! You put yourself on the line for me, you saved my life and I didn’t know if you were okay!”

“I didn’t save your life,” she scoffed. “It wasn’t headed for your heart.”

“I rewatched the footage,” Lando confessed with a sheepish smile. “If you hadn’t put yourself between me and the track? The debris would have hit me and my career could have been over.”

“Your career, Lando. Not your life.” Her voice was the softest it had been all night. It even surprised her.

“My racing is my life, Sadie.”

“I-“ but he cut her off.

“I never got to thank you in person.”

“You can do it now.”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?” Her patience was slipping. She pulled another mask from the drawer.

“I think you’d take it as closure, or something. Then you’d leave and I would never see you again.”

He wasn’t wrong. She’d began to form a plan on how to give him the answers he needed, and then vanish again. He was a liability to her safety.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Sadie couldn’t bring herself and meet the gaze she could feel on her.

“Max almost punched a reporter,” Lando said.

That had her looking up at him, a confused smile on her lips.

“What?”

“In the media pen, Max almost punched a reporter that wouldn’t stop asking about you.”

A laugh bubbled out of Sadie. Max Verstappen? Protecting the young woman who had ego-checked him at Albert Park?

“I’m serious!” Lando insisted, but his smile was widening. “The guy asked every driver, but Lewis and Max had already told everyone to say nothing. The reporter was so frustrated at getting ‘no comment’ from every driver. Max’s interview was second or third last and the reporter asked something so out of pocket. If you find the interview you can see Max trying not to hit the guy.”

Sadie laughed again, and she caught Lando grinning in her peripheral vision.

“I did make him swear on his championship,” she commented it.

“What?” It was obvious that detail was also new to Lando.

“After the incident, while we were still at the track, I made Lewis promise to hide me from the media. Max visited my hotel room a few days later, and I made him swear the same thing.”

“On his championship?” Lando was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah.” Sadie couldn’t hold back her own.

They laughed for a few minutes at the absurd notion of Max swearing anything on his championship.

“Jesus,” Lando sighed. “That makes so much more sense now.”

“What does?”

“I tried to find you, after a month. Fuck, I even tried to rope half the grid into helping me find you, but Lewis and Max always shut it down. They never told my why, but I guess that’s it.”

“I’m not going to apologise for trying to protect myself.”

“You’re good at protecting,” he said.

It wasn’t the most random comment he’d made that night but it was the one that stuck out the most.

Sadie didn’t know how to reply.

She didn’t have a chance to think about it when she saw a shadowy figure moving toward the car.

“Lando, get out of sight,” she warned.

He was too shocked by the immediate change in demeanour and topic.

“What?”

“Just- oh. Nevermind.”

As the figure came closer, they stepped into the lamplight and Sadie recognised Oscar Piastri.

“It’s Piastri,” she breathed.

Lando wound down his window and waved.

Oscar leant down, rested both arms across the opened window and glanced between them.

“Hey, how are you?” He began.

“Could be better,” Sadie quipped with a joking smile.

“I’m trying to convince her to stay,” Lando explained.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Stay the night or-“

“No, Oscar!” Lando laughed and Sadie couldn’t help but like sound.

“He means in your lives. But I can’t.”

Oscar tilted his head sideways quizzically and some of his hair fell into his eyes. “Can’t or won’t.”

“Both.”

“You make it sound like you don’t have a choice,” he observed.

“She does,” Lando said at the same time as Sadie’s “I don’t.”

“Lando, I-“

“No, Sadie you do have a choice. Not every part of our lives is public.”

“I’m still very confused,” Oscar added.

Sadie’s patience slipped again. “Piastri, I fucked with some dangerous people, and I can’t let them find me. Lando, you don’t have a private life. If you’re not doing Formula One, you’re doing Quadrant; if you’re not doing Quadrant, you’re partying with Martin Garrix; and if you’re not partying, you’re posting something on Instagram. You live an incredibly public life, and that’s okay, but I can’t join that in any regard.”

Lando looked at her with stunned silence. Oscar was watching her with a very concerned expression. She pointed at him with an intense stare.

"You might think your life is fairly private, but when you post on social media everyone nit-pics at it because of how rare your posts are. And every sighting of you is scrutinised.”

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth but he didn’t say anything.

Sadie pulled in a deep breath and pulled on another mask from the drawer.

“I’m sorry, to both of you, but I’m going to vanish again. I have to.”

“Are you in witness protection?” Oscar asked.

Sadie nodded with a frown. He’d put it together fast.

“When’s the court date?” Oscar’s deep brown were intensely focused on her.

“Wednesday, next week. I will be testifying anonymously.”

“So even if they have gang members who aren’t convicted, they won’t know it was you.” Lando pressed, catching onto Oscar’s train.

“Gang members?” Oscar’s went up an octave.

Sadie waved off the question and focused on Lando. “I see where this is going.”

“Then you can see why I’m right.” His eyes were set on hers, a hand set on the handbrake between them.

Sadie sighed and closed her eyes.

“All of the members who saw my face will be going on trial. A few of them have been convicted already.”

“So after next week, you won’t be in witness protection anymore.” Lando pressed.

“That will depend on whether they’re all convicted and how long their jail time is.”

As Sadie spoke, Oscar pulled out his wallet and an old receipt. He pulled a random marker from another pocket and wrote something on the back before handing them both to Lando. He took this hint and wrote something as well.

When he handed it to her, Sadie noted both their phone numbers and tiny signatures at the end of them.

“Text when the trial is over. Just a yes or no. A yes doesn’t mean that you’re going to to be thrust into the spot light. It’s a maybe.” Oscar said, running a hand through his brown hair.

“It’s a maybe I could thank you properly." Lando added. "A random dinner or a paddock pass to which ever race you want.”

That brought a small smile to Sadie’s face.

“Everyone at McLaren would want to thank you,” Oscar added, but there was a tightness to his jaw Sadie hadn’t noticed until then.

She caved.

“Alright maybe,” she said. “I’ll keep this but I'm not promising you anything.”

Oscar's soft smile said that's enough, but Lando's slight frown meant he wasn't ready to give up. Oscar noted it.

"Lando," he interrupted whatever the older driver was thinking. "Mum made chocolate cake while you were out and wants you to try it."

"She knows about our diets right?"

"She'll insist until you fly out."

Lando sighed with an amused smile and opened his door.

"I'm not going to say thank you, not yet. I'm not even going to say goodbye."

"It might be your only chance," Sadie reminded him.

Lando shook his head as he stood, brown curls waving in the small breeze. Oscar pushed his door shut gently and ducked his head back through the window.

They watched Lando walk away, oblivious to the fact Oscar wasn't on his heals.

"I saw it happen, at Silverstone," Oscar murmured. "I saw you make the choice."

"I didn't choose. I reacted. There was no choice, or thought process, or thoughts at all, actually. It was just an action."

"An action we're all grateful for, but-" His voice dropped, as if Lando would hear him if he was any louder. "- I want to thank you for making that choice, or doing that action, whatever."

"Stop," Sadie demanded. "Stop, Piastri."

He did. The first one to stop the first time she asked.

She pulled in a deep breathe and calmly explained, "I did what I did. It happened. I know you're all grateful, but it has to stay at that. This is not a movie, where a chance meeting leads to years of friendship."

"I wouldn't call being hospitalised for being a human shield, a chance encounter," Oscar noted dryly.

"You get my point," she replied.

"I do, and I think I understand." He stepped away from the car. "You have our numbers. Call us and we will be there."

Sadie smiled slightly but didn't give him any hope.

"Go, before Lando comes back out."

"It was good to meet you, Piastri."

"Good luck, Sadie."

With that, the handbrake was off, car in gear and she was gone.

----$----

I know y'all loved the Max/Sadie dynamic in chapters 1 and 2 so how about some more Max content next chapter? ;)

Masterlist…

Taglist; @snubug

#lando norris #f1 fanfic #get your shit together #f1 x oc #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine

[thelastattempt]

Mate you’ve sent me this ask every day for over a week and I’ve had a shitty week and I’m gonna take it out on you (with a little cut cause I don’t want this rant clogging up my whole blog. cheers.)

A) the social construction of ‘coming out’ gives me the ick. the idea that anyone is obligated to tell strangers, their friends, their *mothers* ‘hey this is who I like to fuck, or this is who I’m attracted to’ just to what?? make others comfortable?? makes me feel a bit ill actually. by all means, the announcement can be really cathartic and validating for some people and if that’s you, then do you, but you can’t put that expectation on other people cause like - who I want to bang is my business and I have absolutely no idea why it would matter to you or any stranger. this goes double for celebrities who have cameras all up in their face all the time. why should they tell you? why why why. they’re not gonna bang you regardless so what’s the drama.

2) I bet you’re one of those people that say ‘it doesn’t matter, I just wanna know’. well you know what - fucking tough. if you wanna know so bad then it *does* matter to you. for what reason, irdk, but you need to figure that out cause it’s giving unhinged??

!) and on the subject of why you’re so incredibly interested in the orientation of other people, is it for validation? like if they’re a little bit gay then it’s okay for you to be a little bit gay? cause honey, it’s okay whether celebrities are or aren’t. but that’s very much about you and not about them. is it because you enjoy seeing gay iconography in popular media? cause there’s plenty of ‘out’ celebrities you can get this from, and the iconography is there whether you know the specifics or not?? you want him to raise a pride flag for your enjoyment - okay, he’s a real person though, capable of his own decisions that are also nothing to do with you?? or is it because you’ve got a little headcannon that you desperately want to be true?? again, this is very much a preference or need for you, as an individual, as a viewer, as a voyeur, and I’m struggling, bro, I really am cause orientation doesn’t make a good person, doesn’t add anything to personality or values or even talent. It absolutely doesn’t affect your enjoyment of the product Louis is selling - music, in case you’ve forgotten. unless you’ve got some dotted line from ‘gay’ to ‘deserving ’ and like, that’s not how this works?? by all means, support out gay artists for being out and gay if that’s your bag, go wild, but saying you can’t enjoy the content of a musician because you’re not sure who he’s shagging is warped to me

D) the jokes you see on the dash are literally just jokes. we’re sat here on tumblr, razzing a friend even tho he’s not our friend, because we’re all a little unwell and none of it is serious serious jfc.

5) and for you last question, what do I think? what do I think? I think I spend less time contemplating where Louis’ dick has been than you do.

TLDR; mind your business, you’ll be happier

#I’m not even gonna post your ask cause I’m petty #hope you got what you wanted #asked and answered

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Laito [08]

ー The scene starts in the forest

Laito: You’ll be giving her back to me, Ayato-kun, Kanato-kun.

Kanato: What is your problem...? First you appear out of nowhere and now you’re giving me the evil eye. 

I am free to do with her as I please. Now could all you nuisances please back off?

Laito: I’m afraid I can’t let that one slide~ I don’t recall handing her over to you after all. 

Ayato: Hah! Funny comin’ from the same guy who agreed to lettin’ us have her blood the other day.

Laito: Exactly...I made a huge blunder. I’m such a fool.

However, I won’t make that same mistake twice. 

Yui: Laito-kun...

ー Laito approaches them

Laito: Listen, Kanato-kun, that branch...Could you please stop pointing it towards Bitch-chan? 

What if you burn her? Or set her on fire by mistake?

Kanato: Stay away from me! All I’m doing is ‘preparing’ her so her blood will turn out more delicious. 

What did I do to deserve this!? Why are you looking at me with those eyes full of pity!?

Laito: I mean, are you going to burn someone alive again? Just like you did to that woman after she fell down from the balcony.

Kanato: The balcony...?

Uu...Ah, why...?

*Thud* 

Laito: Woah there! That was close. If you had dropped it there, the flames would spread in no time. I better extinguish the fire real quick.

*Thud* 

Ayato: Oi, Kanato, what has gotten into you!? Fuck, what did you do, bastard!?

Laito: I’d like to pose you that question instead. Back then...You were the one who attacked her, no?

Ayato: Hah? What are you...?

Uu...Guh...This shit again...?

Yui: ( Both of them started wincing in pain. Just like Laito-kun...They’re having dizzy spells. )

Laito: I guess we are triplets after all. We suffer at the hands of the same memory...

But it doesn’t seem like the two of you remember just yet.

Kanato: What nonsense are you spouting...? Uu...

Laito: Don’t you think it’d be in your best interest to simply retreat?

*Rustle* 

Laito: ...I��m pretty sure that in your current condition, even I could cut you down?

*Cling*

Kanato: Ayato...

Ayato: Che...Let’s fall back for now.

Yui: ( They both left... )

Laito: Phew...

*Cling*

Yui: Ah...Laito-kun...

Laito: I’m sorry it took me so long to come save you...Yui-chan.

Yui: ...Ah...

You know...who I am?

Laito: Of course.

Yui: ( He remembered. His memories ーー They’ve come back... )

ー She runs up to him

Yui: Laito-kun!!

*Rustle*

Laito: Woah there...Look at you jumping into my arms like that. Such enthusiasm!

Wait...Ah...

ー He loses his balance and tumbles over

*Thud* 

Yui: Kyaah!

Laito: Owow...My legs gave in. Guess I’m not back into tip-top shape just yet...

Yui: M-My bad. I completely forgot you were feeling unwell until just now and acted on a whim...!

Laito: No biggie~ I’m no longer dizzy after all. I’ve just got that slight hazy feeling lingering inside my head.

Ahーah. I came all the way here to save my Princess but look at me putting on this lame display.

Yui: Your memories are back, aren’t they?

Laito: I’m not sure if that’s the right way to put it, but yeah.

I can remember everything now, as if the cover which had been put on my mind was lifted at once.

That Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun are my brothers. As well as that we’re dating...All of it.

Yui: I’m glad...Truly. 

Laito: I’m sorry for causing you so much worry. Even though you told me about my memories so many times...

I wrote it off as a bunch of fantasies without even trying to make sense of it. ...I hurt you, didn’t I?

Yui: No, it’s fine. None of that matters at this point. 

All I care about is that you remember now...

Laito: Even so, that won’t take away from the fact that I put you through  unpleasant situations. 

I let those two as well as other guys suck your blood for my own personal enjoyment. 

Yui: Ah...About that...

Selection

→ I won’t forgive you (♡)

Yui: I’ll admit, I have a hard time letting that one slide...I don’t want anyone but you to suck my blood.

Laito: Yeah, my bad. I won’t ask you to forgive me. Punish me however you see fit?

Yui: I-I can’t do that. Besides...

You saved me earlier so...We’re even.

Laito: I’m not fine with that though. I can’t do anything for you in return if you put it like that.

→ I don’t mind (🖤)

Yui: I don’t mind. That’s in the past now.

Laito: I wish you’d mind a little more. I mean, even I hate myself for putting you through that. 

However, if you say so, I won’t mention it from here on out.

Laito: But you know, Bitch-chan? Why didn’t you tell me? 

Yui: Eh? Say what...?

Laito: About her.

Yui: ( Her...He’s talking about Cordelia-san, right? )

Laito: You realized that I was very close to remembering her, didn’t you?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Laito: My memories might have come back if you had mentioned her name.

Yui: ...I thought that you’d suffer if you remembered her.

I couldn’t bring myself to drop her name, realizing that all those painful memories would come back to you.

Laito: Per usual, you are too good to me. Still, I’m glad to know you treasure me that much.

Yui: Laito-kun...

Laito: I guess in the end, it was for the best.

When you were nearly burnt to a crisp by Kanato-kun, I was completely shaken up by an intense flurry of past memories. 

In the heat of the moment, I found a way to drive the two of them off. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have won if I had to fight them fair and square.

Yui: Ah...Speaking of which, were they okay? They seemed to be dizzy...

Laito: I wonder? They might have their memories back just like me but...

I know from experience that a small trigger isn’t enough to fully retrieve them.

Yui: Then, they still haven’t...

Laito: I’m pretty sure they’re suffering, stuck inside a world of fake memories.

Yui: I see...

( I hoped they would remember as well, but I guess that would be too much to ask for... )

Laito: Don’t worry. All three of us are pretty sturdy. Don’t worry about it. 

Yui: ...Yeah.

Laito: Well then, I’d love to hold you in my arms a little longer, but we should probably head back to the manor soon.

Even though those two left, it’d be bad if we were to run into one of the other guys.

Yui: Ah, good point. I’m sorry, I’ll move right away.

Laito: I have to say, this was quite a nice position, almost like you had me pinned down.

Yui: G-Geez, there you go saying that sorta stuff again!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Still, this feeling...It’s the Laito-kun I know and love. He actually came back. )

( The feeling of relief has me feeling weak in my knees...I didn’t realize I had been so tense this whole time. )

Laito: Huh? ...One second. Show me your arm.

*Rustle* 

Yui: Eh? What’s wrong?

Laito: I knew it. You’re burnt right here...

Yui: Ah, this is...The fire scraped across my skin when Kanato-kun pointed it towards me. 

But it’s only a light burn, I’ll be fine. 

Laito: Don’t be like that. It might leave a scar. You’re a girl, so you need to be more concerned about that sorta thing.

Keep still for a second, okay?

Yui: S-Sure...

*Rustle* 

Laito: I can easily heal a burn by doing this...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: Hyah...

Laito: What did I say? Don’t move. I’m only treating your burn.

Yui: B-But, we’d have access to actual medical equipment back at the manor, so you really don’t need to do this...

Laito: Let me do it. I have to do this much or it won’t sit right with me.

Besides, we shouldn’t use our supplies unnecessarily. A Vampire’s saliva has healing effects anyway.

It’s much better to use this method to fix small injuries. Aah, your cheek as well.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Don’t pretend to be okay. I want to do everything within my power for you.”

“Mm. It’s me. I’m right here, I promise. I’ll hold you close whenever you want me to.”

Laito: ...Nn...You’re so soft. I’m afraid I might just want to gobble you right up at this rate.

Yui: U-Uhm, I promise I’m okay now?

( I guess it’s because we haven’t been affectionate in a while, but for some reason it’s really embarrassing...! )

( Besides, I can feel the wound aching every time he kisses it... )

Laito: Look at you turning as red as a tomato (1). Seems like it’s not just from embarrassment, huh?

Does it feel good when I stimulate the wound...?

Yui: ...I-It doesn’t.

Laito: Is that so? Then you don’t mind if I continue treating you, correct?

Nn...Muah...Haah...Has it gotten a bit better? 

Yui: I-I think that one should be fine now.

( It really does make...the wound tingle in a weird way. )

Laito: You’re so sexy when you’re trying to endure it. When I kiss the opening of the wound...Nn...Muah...

Yui: ...Ah...

Laito: ...See? The scent of your blood got sweet. You can try to hide it all you want, but I can see right through it?

I can’t believe you’re getting all ecstatic when I’m only trying to tend to your wounds...What a troublesome Bitch-chan you are~

Yui: Y-You’re wrong, this is...

Laito: Fufu, you’re looking at me with those dreamy eyes.

I couldn’t ask for more. I want to do everything I can for you, to make up for everything I’ve done up till now.

Yui: Ah...

Laito: The burn seems fine now. But I haven’t healed the scars I left behind on your heartーー 

...Nn...

Yui: ( Such gentle actions...Like he’s trying his very best to show his appreciation for me... )

Laito: I promise that I will never...do things that could make me lose your love.

Yui: Yeah...

Laito: Well then, let’s head back to the manor together. Your hand please, Princess? 

Yui: Thank you.

*Rustle* 

Yui: ( I’ve felt his touch so many times before, and this isn’t our first time holding hands either. )

( They I feel as if it’s been together since we’ve walked hand-in-hand like this. )

( Happiness lies in these little things... )

Monologue

Weaving our way through the trees,

we talked back towards the manor,

which had started to feel like home at this point. 

We have not yet broken free,

from this chaotic situation.

We do not even know where to start yet. 

Even so, the feeling of someone,

holding onto one of my hands tightly,

that alone is enough to take away the fear,

no matter what the future may hold for us.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) In Japanese, he says that she turns red like an apple, but in English that didn’t sound quite as natural.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #chaos lineage #diabolik lovers translation #cllaito8

[lilacs-world]

I feel like I’m chronically not okay but idk if I’m valid enough to label myself as chronically ill. I am able to work 40h a week but with the cost of laying in bed the rest of the day when I’m back home. In the weekends I sleep mostly. My room is a disaster because I never have the energy to tackle the chaos. I wished I was able to walk to work and back but standing for more than 15 min is already exhausting me and I get dizzy and lightheaded. I am constantly in pain, my normal pain level is on good days at a 2 on bad days it’s at a 4 or 5 but maybe I’m too modest about my pain due to fear of admitting I’m not okay. I am always tired even if I sleep usually enough. At times I feel more refreshed with only 4 hours of sleep hell knows why. I am waking up daily at 5:45am to get myself ready for 8am work. I don’t know if I’m ever gonna be a functioning adult. I am scared of the moment I will unmask bcs im masking daily due to Audhd. Plus daily I’m confused because we are often switching and my quality at work at times fluctuating and my TLs wondering wtf bcs we know u know all the processes so wtf. Daily I feel like I know only a specific part of the processes and I have days where I ask so many questions that one of the TLs told me they are growing gray hairs bcs of me asking so much. The doctors in my country are shit when I mentioned suspecting we are a system they said nah it’s just ur anxiety. When I questioned if I have adhd my former psych said nah only kids can have it. My former therapist said yeah after unofficially diagnosing me with it. Autism I suspect that too and I got my confirmation more or less from my bf who’s on the spectrum as well. He got his confirmation he has adhd as well by me noticing lots of adhd things in him and he has now meds whilst me is in this godforsaken country that isn’t taking me seriously. I got my confirmation I have adhd when I took speed and realised for the first time "so this is how neurotypicals experience their life?" I for once had a train of thoughts in order and not a carambolage of luggage’s getting stuck in the baggage claim belt. I sobbed so hard. On good days I am able to remember and memorise lots of shit. But on bad days I barely anything. My body is out of control. I have pcos and it’s ravaging my body. I grow hair on my chin and arms and it’s making me uncomfortable and I developed anxiety about having hair in my face to the point over pluck and over shave it. My period is out of control. I either bleed for 2 months consecutive or I don’t have my period for 6 months. I am anemic due to it. I am such a pale human that I’m constantly being asked if I am okay. Oh yeah not to forget having an autoimmune disease since I am 2 years old. Having to deal with psoriasis break outs each winter where I end up being covered on my legs, arms , ass with skin patches of psoriasis. At times it’s even in my eyebrows and on my scalp. Each winter is a torture for me. I am battling with depression as well. Luckily this last year it wasn’t so overbearing and I felt more human than I used to in the past. Nonetheless my anxiety is ravaging and leaving me crippled daily. I sound ridiculous talking about myself rn bcs in my brain I feel like you aren’t this sick or unwell you are faking this you are a horrible human for saying all this things but I know it’s probably my internal ableism and the internal critical subconsciously developed voices of my surroundings telling me I’m not actually sick and I need to go to work even if sick etc. Sigh. Idk where I wanted to go with this whole post. I know you guys don’t see often a personal post from me or posts from me and more reblogs of stuff I enjoy seeing and stuff I wanna boost and stuff I find important or relatable or stuff that I think might make someone feel better and less anxious or feel seen. I hope this is fine. I hope being more real is helpful. Maybe I should do this rambling on my other blog @unfilteredrealities where I tried to talk about life in a real way , unfiltered. You can even send in your own submissions if u want to.

Anyway thanks for reading my ted talk.

TLDR: I don’t know if I’m actually chronically ill and if I’m valid enough to label myself as that and then I rambled about my life experiences with audhd, did, anxiety, depression, pcos, psoriasis and there are more but I’m exhausted.

#lilacs world #lilacs-world #lilac gets personal #ok to reblog #adulting #adult adhd #adult autistic #mental illness #mental health #dissociative identity disorder #chronic illness #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #vulnerability #pls help #i need feedback #psoriatic arthritis #rheumatoid arthritis #pcos #fibromyalgia #disabled? I’m not sure 😭

[unbakehisbeans]

Idk, as someone who was a depressed, self-harming, impulsive, anorexic teenage girl only a few years ago I just think about how I felt like it was really dismissive to just say “get help,” and “stop romanticizing mental illness/self harm.” I’m not one to justify everything by saying “it’s a coping mechanism” as if “cope” is a magic word that absolves you of all responsibility. But I am against being dismissive of teen girls especially and if they’re behaving badly I want to know why, we should ask questions and take them seriously.

Like the purpose of posting “body checks” is absolutely to get high on the comments you’ll get. Whether people tell you that you’re so skinny and gorgeous and they want to be you, or that you’re sick and disgusting and they’re worried, or that you’re fat and you need to lose more weight. It all works to the same end, you know? But that’s the purpose, the purpose is self harm. And romanticizing AN and BN is just kind of part and parcel to AN and BN. So telling them not to is…silly? It’s like saying just fucking stop having AN/BN. And to be clear these kids aren’t absolved from the harm they do to themselves or to others, I’m just saying that being dismissive isn’t helpful.

But like looking back on it, you got attention, you got to talk about how you’re feeling, you got to express your feelings however you wanted without being shamed for it or dismissed, you got encouragement (both good and bad), etc. And, at least for me, actual real help just wasn’t available for a long time.

And then to some extent it’s just fashion, right? Or just art. And I never know what to do with that. Like, undeniably the subculture that sprung up around Nicole Dollanganger and her peers was harmful in many ways and it attracted a lot of people who were unwell, but it was also just music and just fashion, just weird pictures of cutely dressed girls in the woods and at abandoned love hotels and things like that, you know?

[blu-joons]

When They Find That You’ve Fainted ~ NCT 127 Reaction

Taeil:

After you promised for the thousandth time that you’d be alright in his studio whilst Taeil went off to a meeting, he finally made his way to meet with the staff, trusting that you’d been alright. However, midway through his meeting, the sight of Yuta barging through the door instantly caused Taeil to jump. “You need to come!”

“Why? What’s happened?” Taeil yelled, chasing after Yuta who refused to speak, saving his energy to make sure that Taeil could get to your studio as quickly as possible. His heart stopped when he walked through the door and saw you laid out.

Yuta took a step back as Taeil knelt down beside you, resting his hand over yours. His eyes closed as he tried to warm your hand up, whispering down to you to open your eyes, staying by your side until eventually you did just that.

“What’s going on?” You questioned, noticing Taeil leaning above you straight away, “aren’t you supposed to be in your meeting by now?”

“Do you not realise what’s just happened?” He asked, rolling his eyes as your head shook back at him. “Y/N, you fainted, I had to leave the meeting and come and see you. Anything could have happened, are you alright?”

You nodded back at him, “don’t worry about me, you should probably get back to your meeting before you get in trouble.”

“The meeting doesn’t matter, making sure you’re alright is what’s important.”

Taeyong:

His body felt numb as Taeyong watched you fall in front of him as the two of you began to prepare for your evening together. He placed the plates he held onto the table as quickly as he could before kneeling down to your side. His hand brushed over your face as he tried to figure out what was going on to cause you to faint.

“What’s happened,” he whimpered, laying your body out into a position that he hoped would be more comfortable for you. Taeyong had picked up on your body failing you a few times, but never did he imagine that it would amount to this.

The guilt struck him hard as he stayed by your side, waiting for you to stir. After a few minutes, tiny groans came from you as a result of the throbbing pain in the back of your head and the aches that ran down your body.

“It hurts,” you whispered as your eyes locked with Taeyong’s. His hands moved around your waist to move you to rest into his lap.

“What’s been going on?” He asked, running a hand through your hair, “I knew that you’d been struggling, but I never realised that things could have ever got as bad as they have done for you Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

Your head shook back at him, “you have no reason to be sorry, I guess I should have been taking better care of myself.”

“I’m going to take care of you now and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Johnny:

As soon as he came home, he was met with yells of his name and scolding after scolding for having his phone turned off throughout the day. Haechan and Taeyong took both of his hands and pulled him through into his dorm where your body was laid out on his bed. “We found her on the floor, we tried to call you.”

“She fainted?” Johnny questioned, almost as if the situation that was unfolding in front of him wasn’t real. He took an anxious step closer to your body, barely able to look at you. “I’ll take care of it from here, thank you guys.”

The boys all filed out of the room, closing the door behind themselves whilst Johnny made his way over to the bed and sat beside it. He sat and waited impatiently until he spotted a wiggle in your finger that started your movement.

“J-johnny?” You questioned, feeling a warm hand rest over the one that you were trying to move as your eyes slowly opened to see him.

“I’m here,” he assured you, trying to give you as much space as he could. “Just take things slow,” he added once he noticed you trying to move your body. “You’ve fainted Y/N, just give yourself a moment to settle.”

Your head nodded back at him, “I didn’t realise that I fainted,” you whispered, “you must think I’m a right idiot at the moment.”

“Not at all, these things happen. Just take a moment, you’ll be alright.”

Yuta:

A strange pair of arms caught your body as you tumbled at the side of the stage of the performance, with several members of staff trying to shield the sight from the boys. The quick eyes of Taeil however had clocked the commotion immediately, racing over to get Yuta and push him in the direction of the exit.

“Why?” He questioned, but Taeil didn’t reply, instead he turned him around to see you laid out on the cold floor with the staff all around you. Yuta turned to head back on stage, conflicted, but Taeil told him to go, and not look back.

The staff all took a step back as Yuta appeared, taking a seat beside you. He threw his microphone to one side, replacing it with the feel of your hand in his as he sat and waited until your eyes opened to relax himself.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered as soon as you noticed that Yuta was beside you, “you’re supposed to be on stage.”

“The stage doesn’t matter,” he chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face, “the fans can survive without me on the stage, but you’re the one that needs me right now. You’ve just fainted after all Y/N, you need me.”

You closed your eyes shamefully, “I’ve ruined your performance, Yuta, I’m so sorry. You probably hate me right now.”

“I don’t, I love you, I just wish that this didn’t have to happen.”

Doyoung:

Everything he found from the internet that was suggested to help someone who had fainted was by your side as Dongyoung sat down and played the waiting game. It was torture for him, he had no idea how long he had to wait for you to wake up and was clueless as to how you’d be when you woke up too.

“Come on,” he whispered, sitting back down once everything was set for when you’d wake. Whilst he knew your body would stir when it was ready, it didn’t change the pain that Dongyoung felt having to wait for you.

After what felt like an eternity, sitting around and waiting for you to wake and move, Dongyoung let go of a sigh of relief when your eyes opened and looked around at all the items that were around your body.

“What’s all this?” You questioned, trying to take it all in, “why have you got all of this about, I’m not hurt or anything.”

“Y/N, you fainted,” he frowned, shaking his head down at you. “I’ve been sat here worried sick for ages. I searched up all of the things that I could to help you when you woke. Do you want a drink, it’s supposed to help?”

You held your hand up as Dongyoung tried to pass you the glass, “I know you’re worried, but just give me a minute, please.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I need to stop worrying so much, you’re right.”

Jaehyun:

There was an uncomfortable silence in the apartment as Yoonoh walked through the door, noticing that the television was on standby. His eyebrows knitted together as he walked further into the room to try and find you, feeling his stomach drop when he walked down and saw you laid out across the middle of the room.

“Y/N Jagi!” He yelled, leaping over the sofa and down to your side. He reached from the sofa to pull down one of the blankets and drape it delicately over your body to try and help you in any way that he could.

He didn’t move at all, with his eyes firmly watching you as he waited for any sign from you. With steady breaths, he waited as patiently as he could for the first sign from you, as your eyes slowly opened and looked around.

“Why am I on the floor?” You asked once you were able to speak, noticing Yoonoh at your side. “Why’s there a blanket on me too?”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “I came home, and you’d passed out Y/N, that’s what happened. Are you alright? Do you need anything? Water? Food? Do you want me to turn the light off?”

“I don’t want anything,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip, “I think I just need a minute to process what’s just happened.”

“That’s alright, take all the time you need, we’re not in any rush at all.”

Jungwoo:

The light on in the living room caught his attention as soon as he walked through the front door. Jungwoo called out your name, excited to finally see you, however as he was met with silence, he felt his heart sunk. Jungwoo followed the trail of light, however as he did, he was sure hoping that he decided not to.

“Please,” was the only word he could mumble as he noticed you laid out on the ground with your phone and water bottle beside you, having fallen from your hands. Jungwoo moved them out of the way, replacing them with himself.

His eyes shut for most of the time whilst Jungwoo waited for you to wake up, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you until he felt the squeeze of your hand against his, opening up his eyes to see you looking back at him.

“Are you tired?” You asked as if the last few minutes hadn’t occurred. “I’ve been awake for ages, and you were fast asleep.”

A gentle chuckle of relief came from him, “I just couldn’t look at you in the way that you were, if I closed my eyes, I hoped that none of this would be real. But how are you feeling, do you want me to get you anything.”

Your head shook back at him, “I was on my way to get lunch when I fell, but I think I’ve lost my appetite a bit now.”

“You still have to look after yourself, I’ll sort you something out Y/N.”

Mark:

The moment he got the text from Taeil to let him know what had happened, Mark raced back to the dorm as quickly as he could. His heart settled slightly when he arrived to see that the boys had helped you as best as they could, with a pillow under your head and a blanket draped across your body to keep you warm.

“I should have been here,” he sighed, taking a seat by the top of your head as he finally looked at your blank expression. “She told me she felt unwell earlier, and I just ignored her as if it was no big deal, and now look at her.”

With the comfort of his members, Mark anxiously sat and waited for the first sign of life from you. He’d never been more relieved than he was when he noticed your hand move and your left eye slowly open up.

“When did you get home?” You asked as you spotted Mark sitting above you. “What’s happened? Have you been crying?”

“No,” he lied, wiping quickly underneath his eyes, “but I got home because I was told that you were passed out in the middle of the dorm. I tried to get here as soon as I could, I’m sorry that I didn’t get here sooner.”

You smiled weakly up at him, “there’s no need to apologise, thank you, all of you, for taking such good care of me.”

“Yeah, thank you guys, you’re all amazing for what you’ve done.”

Haechan:

The whole room fell silent at the sound of Donghyuck’s calls. Each of the members ran through to his room, freezing when they saw Donghyuck sat beside your body that laid out on the cold floor of his bedroom. His eyes were filled with fear, desperate to try and search for the answers as to what he could do.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered as Johnny was the first to step into the room. “I’ve never had anyone faint around me before,” he frowned, taking a step back as his elder members began to sort things out.

With his members taking a step back, Donghyuck stayed as close to your side as he could until he saw your eyes open, not only looking at him, but the eight other pairs of eyes that were also watching with great concern.

“It’s cold down here,” you noted as you began to come around to your senses, “why are you all looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“You fainted; do you not remember?” Donghyuck asked you, flinching as your head shook back at him. “I came back from the toilet and you were out cold on the floor Y/N, can you really not remember any of that happening.”

You sighed across at him, “I wish I could, but right now I’m just as confused as you are as to why I’ve ended up on the floor.”

“Come on, let’s get you onto the bed before you catch a cold down there.”

---

Masterlist

#nct #nct imagine #nct 127 #nct 127 imagine #nct reaction #nct scenario #nct 127 reaction #nct 127 scenario #taeil imagine #taeyong imagine #johnny imagine #yuta imagine #doyoung imagine #jaehyun imagine #jungwoo imagine #mark lee imagine #haechan imagine #taeil #taeyong #johnny #yuta #doyoung #jaehyun #jungwoo #mark lee #haechan #nct one shot #nct drabble #nct fluff

[mokutone]

u posted a snippet of a comic where kakashi was coaxing tenzo to take off his anbu mask, i was wondering if u would ever post the full comic? it seems so sad and sweet and id love to have the full context of why tenz was keeping the mask on and why kk was afraid that he was doing so? if not its okay!

AH i'm surprised you remember that!!!! that feels like ages ago...back in may, i think?

i will post the full comic one day, but i have to ink it and muddle through a color palette first! because ive been so busy, i haven't had time to work on it so the pencils are still at 4/12 pages, but i can share with u what i have atm bc it'd be good to refresh my memory too. be warned obviously that like, these are pencils and not a finished, ready-to-consume product, so many things may be unclear! I'll add a little elaboration of my thoughts at the bottom of each one that should hopefully help!

page one. the top of the page and the box right below it are going to be flat black—the implication that Kakashi is speaking into a room which has no source of light. In the second one, Tenzō's pose is unclear, but he's curled up defensively into as tiny of a ball as he can manage, like a pill bug, even his speech bubbles fall along the outside of him, like he's trying to use them as another defense. In the third, we have Kakashi from Tenzō's POV. He's just opened the door, is standing tall and somewhat rigid like he's expecting an attack, taking in the situation. In the fourth and fifth panels, Tenzō sees this, and turns away, becoming deeply embarrassed that he's come to Kakashi for help at all, and that somebody he respects so much is seeing him in such a "pathetic" moment.

This is the panel you referenced—you can see by Kakashi's posture (low to the ground, loose limbs and no longer stiff or anticipating conflict, keeping a distance between he and tenzō) that he's not actually scared, per se. He's approaching Tenzō with the same gentleness that somebody might use in approaching an injured animal. If he's frightened at all, he's frightened for Tenzō's sake, but mostly he says it because he's having a trouble getting a read on the situation when Tenzō is wearing his mask.

It's true that like, as a former root agent, Tenzō is one of the least expressive people in Konoha, but even still, any movement of his face gives Kakashi more context than the cold porcelain of the cat mask, and walking into an unknown situation with a clearly unwell teammate, Kakashi wants as much context as possible so that he doesn't make the situation worse by accident.

Whether Tenzō complies because he doesn't want Kakashi to feel "scared" or simply because he was given a command is unclear at first, but Immediately after, he starts talking about how he's going to have to be re-evaluated for duty, and how hopsital dodging is a serious problem for a shinobi, etc, indicating that he's not really in a space where he can process emotional consequences very well.

I also make a point of not showing his full face during this page, because a full face will generally ask us to relate to the feelings expressed on the face, and I want those feelings to be as hard to read and unsure as they are for Kakashi in that moment, but I couldn't help but show his eyes when he removes the mask.

Top panel is Tenzo responding to Kakashi's command "let me see it," and him stretching his injured arm out for Kakashi to examine. The second panel should have Kakashi's hands gently grasping Tenzō's. Kakashi doesn't go into his space, and instead asks Tenzō to come into his, so that Tenzō can take his time if he needs it.

Idk, with a shinobi that's Going Through It, pushing their boundaries before they're ready is a good way to make their situation worse, or end up with a kunai in ur gut, so it's not something kakashi's gonna do. It's also, not coincidentally, the first panel we see Tenzō's whole face in (though it's still tilted away), and are therefore asked to try and imagine his feelings.

The next panel where he's observing his shaking hands is almost normal, but then the second he goes right back to covering his face with one of those hands and apologizing, stumbling in his attempt to be open. The two blank panels after that should have Kakashi looking directly at Tenzō, and then looking back down at the wound he's inspecting, and giving Tenzō the verdict "You'll be okay." (i know the speech bubble is low there and looks like it's part of the lower Kakashi panel, but I'll fix that in inks).

Then, like a record caught in a scratch, Tenzō just keeps apologizing, like he's forgotten he can do anything else. Kakashi mistakenly assumes it's because Tenzō thinks Kakashi's mad at him (Tenzō does not think this, both because Kakashi is rarely mad at all, and certainly not at him, and because he doesn't have the emotional space or skills in this moment to consider that Kakashi does feel any particular way about this situation)

Kakashi, who is trying his best but sucks at this kind of thing, is getting frustrated with the apologies, and uncomfortable because it feels like they're directed at him, even though they aren't. It's an unbearably uncomfortable position for him to have somebody apologize so profusely, especially somebody he sees as a trusted teammate and friend, and especially for something that's so clearly out of their control. He doesn't want it.

So, frustrated, he redirects. "What happened on this mission to fuck you up this bad?" the only real indicator of his frustration is that in this sentence his language is more coarse, where before he'd been very placatingly careful, and the expression he makes at Tenzō's arm.

He's thinking "well, this sucks and we're not getting anywhere with it, so I'm just going to ask what happened and get it over with."

Then we see Tenzō's full face again as he takes in the question. Around here, when I add color, the page will begin to shift green, and lighter green near the bottom.

Then, as his hair begins to lift, as though it's floating in water, with a blank face Tenzō will say that he doesn't know what happened.

Then, turning to fully face Kakashi (or us, the viewer) for the first time in these four pages he will correct himself, and say "nothing. nothing happened." But he will be green, and much like within the test tube he was raised in, he will be unclothed and his hair will be floating. The first time we're fully asked (by his direct eye contact) to understand and relate to his feelings, he will make it very clear to us the viewer (and Kakashi who is with us, listening to Tenzō say nothing happened when Clearly Something Happened) that the world he's experiencing for the moment is at odds with the body he's sitting in and the room he's sitting in it with, and that's why he's having such an incredibly difficult time processing anything.

#yamswers #shikaemaru #long post #very fucking long post #comics #tenzō is as unaware of the test tube he seems to be floating in as he is of the room he's sitting with kakashi in. maybe moreso honestly #and even as something is clearly telling us Yes Something Happened via the green and the test tube cues #tenzō is vehemently trying to deny it because it doesnt make sense to him #ANYWAY there's eight more pages of this in the works #one day they'll be done LMFAO #i hope i explained this all well? i get very in my own head about comics bc theyre my easiest mode of thinking through things #and so i can forget what makes sense to other people

[violenceenthusiast]

im curious why people are saying supernatural is jewish like idk if jewish writers makes an inherently jewish story especially when things like following out the christian apocalypse from revelations and showing a real physical g-d who is just some guy i think is super jarring since though christians claim to be against idolatry they seem totally fine showing depictions of gd or whatever i dont get jesus honestly but jews are far more strict and the idea of showing gds appearance is pretty wrong

WOOF okay um. Maybe this is one of those Tone Doesn’t Come Thru Well Online things but to me this is soo fucking rude… I’m half way between John Mulaney we don't have time to unpack all of that & Ben Wyatt wait it’s gonna bother me if I don’t explain why you’re wrong. 

This turned into all my thoughts. 

So like. First off, it’s all fun and games. We’re all just joking and joshing and projecting here on destiel dot tumblr dot com and Jupernatural is not an exception in a lot of ways. And so when someone shits on what we’re doing here (yes, even unintentionally) what you get is what happened: oh you think you’re funny well I’m about to be hilarious!!! aka I’m gonna do it even more now out of spite specifically because you said not to. Like it really is all jokes but also you know what’s not a joke? Antisemitism in all its forms, even the casual shit! It’s really draining and it builds up in your veins!! Just. Yeah. You saw a lot of people talking about it today in particular because much like other topics of the day, one thing kicks off a whole other turn of events. So like. one misguided comment that’s playfully antisemitic and then one more little one, and then one big/obvious one launched us (Jewish spn fans) into a whole bigger discussion about antisemitism and erasure of Jews in the spn fandom writ large. It’s one thing to be descriptive, offer a headcanon/what if, or employ a certain mode of analysis. It’s another thing to definitively say This Is The Truth, specifically when to do so overrides something else, especially in this case when what’s being overridden is Jews, an ethnoreligious minority. It’s also another thing to talk over Jews. And mind this has been building for days. Not in a bad way just like, it’s been topical for days and then today one big thing pushed it over the edge to us actually posting abt it (partially bc at that point it’s a pattern, which feels like it needs to be addressed). Like, destiel tumblr is small we pretty much all see all the same posts, and then Jewish spn fans… we’re friends, we chat about life? We joke around together, y’know? If you’re being antisemitic (yes, even unintentionally) we’re all gonna hear abt it. It’s how we stay safe or in this case, curate the online exp.

That being said tho projecting on fiction is like fun and even a good thing at times, and def opens up new modes of analysis. But! the other big thing here is that there IS a LOT of evidence for a Jewish reading of spn, in a lot of ways, and particularly if you know what to look for. Like there’s lots of niche Jewish slang (non-Jews just don’t know these things, and that is a reflection primarily of the writers but once you put it in the script it implies things about the characters too of course), the theology of the early seasons (I’ll get to that in a second), main character motivations (hold on), “Moishe Campbell” implying Mary is (and therefore Sam and Dean are) Jewish, etc. 

It’s not surprising to me or anything that non-Jews don’t catch anything/everything Jewish about spn but that Jews catch both sides of it, because that’s just how being part of a marginalized group works. You learn about your own stuff AND the dominant culture’s stuff because that’s how you survive (socially, psychologically, literally). Members of the dominant culture don’t need to learn the marginalized one, are never confronted with it, and so they just.. don’t. I don’t even mean that in a normative or accusatory way, that’s just an observation on the state of things. Non-Jews who aren’t part of another marginalized religion, aka expressed xtians and cultural xtians, have a ton of misconceptions about Judaism, for example, “Jesus was Jewish” and not, “Jesus was an asshole of an apostate who made life harder for Jews at the time in a myriad of ways and whose movement has had a lasting negative impact on world Jewry (and other peoples) for the ensuing millenia”. I truly Don’t Have Time right now to get into the varied and intense history of antisemitism in all its forms but. the point I’m making here is that I’m not shocked I need to explain that life experience shapes your worldview?? So if you’re Jewish you’re always gonna be living life through that version of the world and it does impact you?? Same as anything else?? As unwell as they may be, spn writers aren’t exempt from that. Jewish people writing about xtianity are doing so thru a primarily Jewish understanding and vice versa. Jews can (and did!) write about xtian lore but in a Jewish way! Some core Jewish themes: wrestling with angels/G-d, questioning G-d, IF there’s a G-d they will have to beg MY forgiveness, the afterlife isn’t really a big thing so all that matters is your time on earth, make amends to others directly and thru your actions rather than seeking absolution with G-d, you are not obligated to complete the work nor may you abandon it, etc… So that’s the other reasoning why we say “spn is Jewish” based solely on it being written by Jews. Rather than Death of The Author, let’s look at what the author has imbued the story with, both intentionally and unintentionally. And re: Chuck and idolatry… I don’t even know where to start with the way you phrased this but. the Jewish Spn Writers of Note are apparently Kripke, Gamble, and Edlund. All of whom stopped writing for the show years before the Chuck Is God plot! 

Like yes it feels very stupid to be writing a thousand words on antisemitism and supernatural but like. this is a spn blog run by a Jew so. This whole thing is also just the same every time. This is very representative of typical casual antisemitism.

#asks #no readmore we die like men (gender neutral) #sorry its so long alma #jupernatural #anonymous #scream maybe i should add a readmore.. maybe in the morning

[oikawaplssteponme]

7 signs that you are in love

previously: the third sign

masterlist

You look out for them especially when they need it most.

“You look like shit Y/N,” said Denki. You groaned.

“I haven't slept the past few days…”

“Why’s that?” asked Shoto. You looked over at him, shrugging.

“No reason.”

Todoroki didn’t believe you. He knew you well enough to tell when you were lying.

“Well you better wake up. We’ve got a pop quiz.” Izuku pointed to the chalkboard of the classroom. The intimidating letters writing out ‘QUIZ DAY’, made your heart drop to the floor.

“I’m screwed. I have no idea what’s going on in this class,” you worried aloud. Todoroki gently patted your shoulder.

“You’ll do great.”

You may have got a total of two questions correct on the whole quiz. You tried your best but your brain felt fried. These last couple days have not been kind to you. You felt like just giving up on becoming a Hero. The pressure was getting to you and it all seemed like too much.

As you left the classroom, your heart was in the pit of your stomach.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you alright?” asked Shoto. You were .2 seconds from bawling your eyes out. You didn’t want to cry in front of Todoroki.

“I’m fine Shoto,” you said coldly.

“If you’re feeling unwell you should go see-”

“I said I’m fine Shoto!” you yelled. You both froze. You let your frustration get the best of you.

“I-I-” You panicked and ran away back to the dorms.

Todoroki stood in the hallway, a bit puzzled. Were you mad at him? Was he the cause of your restless nights? Had he done something wrong?

He looked behind him, where Deku was standing.

“Everything alright between you and Y/N?” asked Midoryia. Shoto sighed.

“I don’t know anymore.”

You didn’t attend the rest of your classes that day, saying that you felt sick. The second you got to your room, you locked yourself inside. You crashed onto your bed, laying on your side. You looked over to your dresser, where the hat your bought with Shoto sat. You sighed. Nice going at yelling at him, you thought to yourself. You felt awful in every way. So you decided to sleep the frustration away. You caught up on your week’s worth of sleep that you had been missing.

Shoto was concerned that he had done something to upset you. He became even more upset when he noticed your absence throughout the day.

“Should I apologize?” he asked during lunch. Izuku shrugged.

“For what though?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve never done this before.”

“Maybe they aren’t even mad at you.”

“But they yelled at me? Doesn’t that mean they’re mad?”

“Well usually yes but Y/N could be stressed out by something else. I’m sure they didn’t mean it.”

“Maybe.”

As nighttime fell upon UA, you finally woke up from your nap. You sighed, checking the time and seeing that it was close to 8pm. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.

You rubbed your eyes and stenched out as you got up from your bed. Your stomach growled and you realized you had slept through lunch and dinner. You hoped there would be something to eat in the dorm kitchen. You reached for your doorknob.

“H-Hi.”

Standing in front of you was Shoto Todoroki, with a small box.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he handed you the box. You looked at the box, then up at him. Before you knew it, you had wrapped your arms around Shoto, hugging him tightly. Built up tears began to pour.

“No no you don’t have to say sorry. I-I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I’m s-sorry Shoto,” you cried. Shoto’s eyes widened as you hugged him. He stood like a wooden board but soon hugged you back. He held the back of your head as rubbed your back softly.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I d-don't even know anymore…”

Shoto’s heart broke seeing you so upset, especially since he didn’t know why. Whatever was causing you stress, caused him even more.

“How about we sit down for a bit, okay?” suggested Shoto. You nodded and broke away from the hug. Shoto gently wiped away the tears from your cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. Your face grew instantly warm. You took his hand and led him inside of your room.

You sat down on your bed and opened up the box of food Todoroki had brought you.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got you one of everything,” he explained. You smiled.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Shoto sat in front of you, staring at his hands. He didn’t want to force you to talk if you didn’t want to. He was here to listen either way.

“Do you ever feel like there is so much pressure on you that you might burst?” You ask. Shoto chuckled.

“I know that feeling.”

“And you try and you try to do better but it never seems to be enough. Like no matter what, someone is still better than you.”

“Yes…”

“God sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna make it,” you admitted, “like I’ll be the forgotten Hero or I won’t even become a Hero…”

Shoto raised a brow.

“Do you still want to be a Hero?”

“Yes-no- I don’t even know. I just know that I want to make a difference. In today’s world it seems like the only way to do that is become a Hero.”

Shoto moved closer to you, placing his hand onto your knee.

“You don’t have to be a Hero to save the world Y/N.”

You locked eyes with Shoto, your heart pounding. Your eyes began to water once more.

“You’ll be amazing in whatever you decide to do. Whether it’s become a Hero, a side kick, or just someone who fights for what’s right. That’s what it means to be a real Hero, not having your name on a license.”

You wiped your eyes, stopping yourself from crying again.

“You’ll be a great Hero one day Shoto. I just know it,” you smiled.

“You’ll be great too.”

Your face grew even warmer. There was something about Shoto that made your feel at ease. No other comfort was like his.

“I don’t know what I would do without you...thank you,” you whispered. Shoto nodded.

“I’m here whenever you need me,” he smiled, “it’s getting late, I should probably be heading back to my room.”

Todoroki stood up from your bed, but didn’t take another step. You had grabbed onto his wrist.

“Wait-” you began. You looked at Shoto with pleading eyes.

“Stay with me?”

Todoroki looked down at your shaky hand. You didn’t want him to leave and he didn’t want to leave you.

Shoto nodded and quietly climbed back onto your bed. He laid down with you. Your head rested on his chest as he rubbed your back. Your hand lighting gripped onto his sweater, keeping him close. Shoto looked at you, your eyes now closed.

“I’ll always stay.”

a/n: ahh hi hi! so so sorry this took forever to get out! my life is a mess right now ahah. but here it is and i hope you all enjoyed this one :) reblogs and your feedback are always welcomed!! 🤍

[taglist OPEN: @bibly @big-phat-cat @sapphoscolonoscopy @happyheartsss @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @complimentaryhugsgirl @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @luluwiie @tanakasprayer @heyitsmichele @seiijixcia @asdfghjkl7things @random-fandom-girl-24 @sorrythatspussynal ]

#willow.🌸 #my hero academia #mha #bnha #todoroki shoto fluff #todoroki shoto x you #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #todoroki scenario #todoroki shōto #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto scenarios #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha shoto x reader #bnha todoroki

[booksweet]

Expectations

starring: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Synopsis: what If your favorite character became real the moment you needed the most?

Warnings: fluffy, probably shibuya incident arc spoilers (not too much), grammar mistakes, both reader and Gojo are +18

Word count: 2k

A/N: hello! Here's me again bringing you the sequence of "Real" (please don't forget to read the first part, okay?). I was so glad you enjoyed chapter 1 that it turned out as a series and I can say I'm BEYOND happy!! Hope you like it 💛

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

tagging: @noritoshiikamo @iwaizumini

“So… Tell me about your powers,” she asks him when they stopped their tour through the city together. “Did they remain? Or you lost them when you came here?”

She knew she should’ve already spoken to him about this matter, yet she was scared of his answer, yet she frightened that if he got his powers, maybe he would go back to his world and let het behind. She would be all alone. Again.

Being alone all the time was tiresome, she had been tired for so long since her parents died, and she moved away from the town she was born and rose by them. After all this time without them, she got used to living alone, eating alone, existing all by herself, everything was so mechanical to her that she didn’t even notice how the way she was living affected her perceptions of her surroundings.

And then, he suddenly appeared. That night was marked inside her memories. She was fond of many things, reading her favourite manga above all, but if someone asked her what she expected getting from reading one, she would answer just some comfort and relief from stressful days, not her favourite character scaping from his world and popping up inside her room.

“Hey! Y/N? Are you even listening to me?” Satoru’s voice takes her out from her reveries, again she got lost on her own thoughts about him and what happened. Is it selfish not wanting you to go back there?

“Sorry” She apologizes with a shy smile, his eyes hidden with sunglasses probably focused on her. “What were you saying?”

“You are a little absent-minded, aren’t you?” His voice in an amused tone makes you release a loud laugh that make he smile eye-to-eye. “I was saying that my powers are still here with me…” He repeats as he takes you by your hand walking somewhere else, his slightly narrow when he sees something that caught up his interest. “Is that… Ice cream?”

By his answer to her question, her heart flickers a little. He could do anything he wanted; he was the strongest above all. Why wouldn’t he just go back to his world? Why would he still be here with you? Your mind going whirlwind with a thousand questions unanswered.

“You lost it,” He says once more, now with her favourite ice cream flavour in one extended hand as a signal to give it to her. “Again. Am I that much a bad company that you can’t concentrate on our date?” He fakes a heartbroken and sad tone seeming like a boy who was crying over his first love.

“Satoru, what?! No! And this is not a date!” She did get lost in thoughts again, but hell no, this wasn’t a date. “Don’t you dare smile like this to me, don’t you dare, Satoru Gojo!” Her flustered tone mixed up with an angry one as a cocky smirk grew upon his face.

“Whaat? Me? Smiling?” He walks closer to her, his height almost towering over hers, and when their faces where almost touching each other, the smell of ice cream surrounding them when he says “How? Smiling like this?”

She could’ve fainted right there, yes, she could. One could say she was almost having a heart attack the faster her heart was beating and that idiot in front her knew how much he affected her, and, for God’s sake, he was doing it way to good not to care. Still, she wouldn’t give up to him so easily.

“As you said…” She started stepping back and eating her own ice cream. “Your powers still remain, so how does it feel?”

“Little one…” He begins to say, but he seems to reconsider his words while looking at her face. “I can feel everything. I can see everything and nothing at the same time. The beginning and the ending. Infinity and beyond.”

She remained silent by his side, waiting for him to continue whatever he was thinking about to speak of. She couldn’t imagine how heavy must be the burden of carrying power like his, powers that were both a blessing and a curse.

“Your world does have curse energy like mine,” He finally continue his line of thought. “Even though it doesn’t change into spirits or something more tangible to exorcize. I still don’t get how you get rid of it here, it’s a mystery.”

“And…” He suddenly stops, narrowing his eyebrows in a confused expression, it was like he realized something he didn’t know how to explain to her.

“And?” You give his arm a soft touch, without words saying to him I am here, you can say whatever is on your mind.

“And” He eyes at her so deeply you imagine if he could reach her soul, his hand placed above hers. “I can see you. Your everything. I can sense your presence, your heartbeat like it is my own. Is it strange? Is it strange that I feel you like you are a part of me, and I am a part of you?” He holds her hand tighter. “Is it strange that when we hold hands everything seems right again? Is it strange that-“

All at once he lets go of her hand. She gives him a strange look, What’s wrong? Was what she as thinking. Goosebumps running through her body, wild butterflies flying on her stomach made her lips dry of nervousness. I feel you like you are a part of me, and I am a part of you. Everything seems right. He must be kidding, no one never…

“Gojo,” She says when she can catch her breath again, his eyes never leaving her face. “You shouldn’t play with things like this.” She pinches her nose, feeling her face warmer and warmer each second. “We must go, there are other places I want to show you.”

“But, Y/N,” He tries to say, she could feel melancholy following his words. I don’t want to hear, I don’t.

“Let’s go, Satoru Gojo,” she fakes a smile and an excited tone. “There’s more of my world that those pretty eyes of yours have never seen.”

They went through many of her favourite places such as the park, that café closer to her loved library, she showed him her favourite restaurant, the places she was used to go when feeling unwell with herself. And there was this moment, this specifically moment, that his eye’s light changed.

The way her hair flipped towards the wind, the way her smell invaded his nostrils, the way he was just all eyes only to hers. Every little detail unmissed to him. Despite their last conversation ending, he’s been constantly aware of her, of how she makes him feel in this odd world. He didn’t lie when he said all those words, he meant each one of them, but he was still wondering why she dismissed him that way. He was afraid that fright would make her run away from him again.

“Hey, you enjoyed our stroll today?” She was resting peacefully on her place’s couch, head laid softly on a cushion and eyes looking at him eagerly. He felt she was still fluttering because of what happened between them before, and he wanted so bad to stop that growing unease feeling his mind twisted every second.

“You don’t know how” He says with a genuine smile, knowing more of you, of how you lived, and your habits makes him avid to get closer and closer to you. His keen voice loud when he laughs “I’ve never though of not trying to defeat monsters and curses while eating a good, sweet cake or ice cream and…”

“And?”

“You can say I’m a good partner, can’t you?” His keen smile turning into a cocky and teasing one. “Afterall, how could I not try my best having such a beautiful lady by my side?”

“You-“She starts, but the growing reddish upon her nose and cheeks reports how nervous she gets when he talks like this, how he teases her and her blood runs wild through her veins. “You know it wasn’t a date, Satoru!” Placing a hand in front of her pretty face to hide whatever her expression could speak for her that moment. “And yes, you’re also a good companion, I can say that.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Satoru’s voice wakes her up from her dreams late that night, she was on the couch covered with her bedsheets. Did he picked them and then covered me up? Her heart bounced inside her chest and she felt her hands damp with sweat with that thought of him caring about her.

“Uh… What time…?” She opens her eyelids slowly, yawning hard as she stretches herself to wake her body. By the time she catches the sight of him, he’s sitting down right on the ground in front of her, his hands towering over her legs like he wanted to touch her but is not allowed to.

“Can I show you something?” His voice says nothing to her, no opens to reveal his feelings behind his tone. Suddenly, she feels cold running over her body. She nods slowly to him. “Do you trust me?” Again, another movement of her head. “Little one… I need to hear your voice.” His bare eyes stare at her fondly, she will never understand why he does this to her. Doesn’t he know that he will break my heart?

“Yes, Satoru, I trust you.” Her voice is hoarse from sleep, but this is all he needs to place one arm underneath her legs and the other on her back to carry her bridal-way. “Wh-what?! This is really necessary?”

“Hold on, I got you” His thumb moving around the bottom of her back, his movements, and the feeling of his warm body closer to hers making her relax. “I’ll show you something, breath and don’t scream”

And suddenly they weren’t at her living room, but at the rooftop of some skyscraper. So high she could feel her sight twisting.

“Hey, hey…” His muffled voice was calm against her ears, his soft grip tightening a little in reassurance of her safety. “I’m here, I’m here, it’s okay.”

“F-fuck! Why? Why are we here?”

“I need to show you” His tone didn’t hide he was nervous, worried about something. “Please close your eyes.”

As she does what he requested, his arm on her back loosen his grip and a hint of panic stars to grow inside her. I’m going to…

“You are not going to fall. I will never let something bad happen to you.” His voice is bold and so sure-footed that she decides not to complain, even thought she knew that it wouldn’t be their reality sooner when he’ll get back to his world. His fingers gently touching her eyes and she feels something changing in the air. The air around them shaking and heavy. His powers…

“Open your eyes, Y/N, please.”

As she opens her eyes, she knew something was different. In front of her there was still the night city, above her the skies. But she could see energy, colourful energy arising from each place she could catch a sight. “What- WHAT?” She screamed in disbelief. “What did you do to me?!”

He bit his lips in a worried expression. “I did nothing. I had this theory but…” He couldn’t look at her anymore, it was painful. “I just managed to unlock your own cursed energy, I don’t know how, I had these feeling and it just…”

They remained in silence for what seemed like hours, even though night were still ruling hard the skies up them. Their bodies close to each other, their warm protecting them from that cold night, from that scary truth. What the hell I am?

“Y/N”

“Uh. What?”

“I need your help to get back to my world. I need your help to get back to my students. You do know what happened to them after my arrive, don’t you?”

main navi | masterlist

#sofi is writing — jjks #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo reader #gojo fluff #gojo x female reader #gojo hcs #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfics #gojo x you

[agustdakasuga]

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 16

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

Things seem to be settling down with the boys and you wanted to finally meet their families and improve your relationship. But who knew the sudden appearance of two strangers can change everything.

“That was a great movie.” You stretched your limbs. It was a typical stay in day with the boys. The weather was gloomy outside so you all settled for a nice movie together. When the credits rolled, they decided it was time for a late lunch, which was going to be kimchi fried rice.

“I can make stir fried pork!” You smiled. 

“Are you sure you can cook? You can relax, you know?” Jin wrapped his arms around your waist. The boys were still cautious over your health since you did suffer from broken ribs and a concussion. 

“I have recovered and am feeling good as new. Please, let me cook?” You asked and Jin nodded his head. 

“If you feel unwell, you can stop any time alright? Or if you need help, just tell any one of us.” Yoongi ruffled your hair and you saluted playfully. 

“Hyung! Make sure you put lots of cheese!” Jungkook reminded loudly. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. Jungkook grinned and slung his arm around your shoulders, nuzzling his cheek against yours lovingly. You giggled as he hair tickled your skin. He pulled away to pour himself some juice from the fridge, offering you a sip. You shook your head as you mixed the sauce in the pan. Jungkook pouted. 

“Why are you rejecting me?” He whined.

“It’s just juice, Koo. But fine.” You gave in, taking a sip. Only then did he give a proud smile, patting your head. He left to go game a little before the food was ready. 

“Need help?” Hoseok came in. 

“Help me get the cooled rice from the cooker.” Yoongi said. 

“I was asking my mate but sure, hyung.” Hoseok gave Yoongi a flat look before grabbing a big bowl and going to get all the rice out. You threw your head back in laughter at their interaction. Hoseok was by your side, reading with two plates for you to put the finished pork dish on. 

“Thanks, Hobi.” You smiled. 

“No problem.” He brought the plates out. Looking over Yoongi’s shoulder, you watched him toss the rice and sprinkle the cheese on top to let it get nice and gooey. Jin did the same with his frying pan. 

“Looks good.” You told them as Jin tasted some to get the seasoning right. Yoongi scooped some of his out, blowing it softly before holding it out to you. 

“Careful, it’s hot.” He cautioned. 

“It’s perfect!” You gave a thumbs up as you chewed. Yoongi chuckled at how adorable you were. You left the kitchen to call everyone else out to eat. The boys all sat in their respective seats and you sat in yours. Everyone dug into the meal happily, having some light chatter here and there. You were just happy to be able to be a part of it. 

“Is there anything else you want to do with the remainder of the holiday?” Namjoon asked you. 

“I don’t really have anything planned. I usually spend holidays alone or working extra shifts. Honestly, this is the first time in a while that I am spending time off with people.” You blushed in embarrassment. 

“It’s okay.” Jimin smiled. 

“Why don’t you guys tell me what you want to do? This is your time off too.” You turned the question on them. 

“Actually, we were thinking of going to visit our parents.” Jin revealed. 

“Oh...” You nodded your head as you listened. Of course, they had their families too. Even if you were their mate, they were still sons to wonderful people and had their duty to visit them from time to time. You mentally convinced yourself that you would be fine with them leaving to visit their families. 

“What do you say? Are you able to take time off from work?” Taehyung asked you with excitement. 

“Wait... You want me to go with you?” 

“Of course, silly. Did you think we were just going to leave you?” Yoongi chuckled and you blushed, knowing that you got caught for thinking that way. The boys all laughed lightly. 

“We would love for you to meet our families. This is our territory but our parents’ territory is actually further down south.” Jungkook explained. 

“I’m excited to meet your families.” You smiled shyly. 

That night, you decided to sleep over. Even if you didn’t move in with them, you still stayed over from time to time. You laid beside Namjoon as he read his book, a small frown on his face as he focused on the contents. You couldn’t help but giggle, making him tear his gaze away from the story and onto you. You stared up at him. 

“You look so serious, Joon.” You giggled. 

“It’s an interesting story.” He pulled you close to him so you were practically lying on his chest as he stroked the back of your head with his free hand. 

“Joon, I’m worried of what all your parents may think... Seeing that I am a human.” You expressed your concern. Namjoon looked at you, closing his book and putting it on the bed. 

“Jagi, don’t worry. Our parents are going to love you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a werewolf or not. Trust me.” He smiled. 

“Really?” 

“I’m your mate, aren’t I? I won’t lie to you. Our parents are actually very excited to meet you. They know you are a human. I told you, the moon goddess already had our fates laid out for us. You are meant to be our mate, no one else. Not even our parents can oppose to that.” He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m just worried... you know? I want to be a good mate for all of you.” You blushed slightly. 

“You already are the best mate we could have ever asked for so don’t worry about that. You are perfect just the way you are.” He kissed your hand, rubbing the back of it. 

*THUMP*

“What’s that?” You lifted your head. 

“Taehyung and Hobi are back from their patrol.” Namjoon informed. You nodded, going to the window to see the two wolves standing on the porch. They looked up and met eyes with you, barking and wagging their tails. 

“They said ‘goodnight’ to you.” Namjoon relayed. You knew that he was probably mind linking with them. You smiled at the two wolves, waving before stepping away from the window and back into bed, beside Namjoon. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. You yawned and snuggled into his warmth.

“Sleepy?” He teased with a light chuckle. 

“A little.” You blinked. 

“Sleep then, jagi. Don’t think about anything for now and just relax.” He said softly, his dimple popping through. Reaching up, you gave into your urges and gave the dimple a light peck.

The next morning, the boys wanted to go for a picnic. Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok immediately shifted and ran out the door in excitement. 

“Aish, those 4.” Jin shook his head and grabbed the basket of food. Namjoon held the cooler box with the drinks while Yoongi held your hand and a bag of clothes for the 4 that left first. The weather was nice and cool from yesterday’s rain, with a slight breeze. 

“The usual spot?” Jin asked. You nodded. You helped with setting the big picnic mat right by the shining lake. 

“(y/n), since you’re our mate and you hold a crystal. We wanted to show you something. We’re not sure if it will work but we can try.” Yoongi led you to the edge of the lake. 

“This was how Jimin found out if we were still alive or not.” He explained, gesturing to the water. 

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head. 

“Watch closely.” Jin nodded to Taehyung. The wolf placed his noise at the surface of the water and drew a pattern of some sorts. Looking closely, you gasped when the image of 8 crystals appeared in the water, all shining as if they were lying below the surface of the lake. You reached out to touch it but the water just rippled. 

“The crystals like this means that we’re okay. If the light goes out, it means the person is in trouble... or dead.” Namjoon explained. 

“Why don’t you try it?” Yoongi held your hand in his. He demonstrated the pattern in the air. You dipped your finger into the cold surface of the water and did the same. 

“It works...” The boys were all in awe as the image of the 8 crystals appeared. 

“We’ll always be connected this way.” Yoongi wrapped an arm around you. You were so amazed by this magic. If someone had told you months ago that this was all real, you would probably have scoffed in their faces. But with 7 werewolf mates, this was now the normal. 

“Thanks for showing it to me. It’s amazing.” You sat down on the mat. 

“It was only right that you knew.” Jin patted your head. Hoseok sat beside you, fully clothed. 

“When are you planning to go visit your parents?” You asked them as you took some meat and made it into a lettuce wrap. Before you could eat it, Jungkook appeared, whimpering and pawing at your feet. 

“Kookie.” You whined but gave in, placing the lettuce wrap into his mouth. He chewed and licked your hand. 

“We were thinking to go next week? If you’re able to take time off from work. The plan is to stay there for 5 days? Or so.” Namjoon said. 

“I should be able to. I’ll send a message to my manager to ask, just in case.” You took your phone out to drop May a message. If you were going on a holiday, you would just have to pay back the working hours by not having as many days off when you come back, which you were perfectly fine with, considering it was the holidays. 

“Here.” Jin made a wrap and held it out to you. You leaned in and let him feed you the wrap. 

“Will it be safe to go? I mean, you did say there are still enemies out there.” You randomly asked those who were sitting with you. 

“It may be safer to go than to stay here. We don’t know if those that tried to attack you are rogues or actually a pack. If they are a pack, there’s no telling how many of them there are.” Hoseok said. 

“I understand.” You nodded, sighing as you rest your chin on your folded knees. The boys all exchanged worried looks. 

“Hey, we won’t let anything happen to you, alright?” Yoongi stroked your head. 

“I know. I trust you.” You hummed with a small smile. After packing up the picnic, the boys all walked you to your home. But when you arrived, you saw a couple outside, waiting for you. You have never seen them before and the boys were all on edge. 

“Can I help you?” You held a hand out to the boys to stay back. 

“Uhh... You live here?” The man asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He was clearly stunned to see a young girl come up to them, definitely not who they were expecting.  

“Yes?” 

“We’re looking for the old man that lives here.” The woman said.

“Why?” You crossed your arms, your eyebrows raised. The two men stared at you then at your 7 mates that stood behind you. 

“We’re... his friends.” The man cleared his throat awkwardly. You knew your grandfather’s friends and you were sure that you have never met them before, you haven’t even seen them in the pictures your grandfather showed you. Besides, wouldn’t friends of your grandfather knew that he passed away years ago? You were a little suspicious of them.

“I don’t think so.” You called them out on their bluff. 

“We must have the wrong house. Excuse us, miss.” The man tipped his cap to pulled his partner along with him. 

“Stop.” You jumped in front of them and they froze in their tracks. They were definitely hiding something and you were not going to let them leave. If they knew something about your grandfather...

“Who are you?” You asked. 

“Excuse me?” The woman was a little taken aback by you. 

“Sorry about her.” Namjoon stepped up, grasping your arm. He knew he had to step in. All the wolves could sense that something was wrong. The couple nodded and left. 

“Namjoon! Why did you do that?!” You turned to him. 

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I had to step in. That couple... there’s something off about them. We all felt it. They aren’t your average couple. I know you wanted to find out more information, seeing as to how they came to look for your grandfather but I’m not risking your safety.” Namjoon sighed. 

“What do you mean ‘off’?” You asked. 

“They smelled of wolfsbane, a natural wolf repellent. We think they’re hunters.” Yoongi said. 

“Hunters? You mean... like the ones that hurt Jimin? The ones who ran you out of your old home?” You frowned, grimacing at the memory of an injured Jimin appearing in your home. The boys all nodded. 

“Is my grandfather...?” Your jaw grew slack. Was your grandfather... one of them? 

“I’ll see you all tomorrow or something.” You quickly bid the boys goodbye and ran into your house. The boys all stood there, of course they hoped that their mate didn’t descend from a family of hunters. They would definitely be shamed by their parents and the rest of the royal pack. Looking at each other, they grew concerned but returned home for the rest of the day. 

“Where is it?” You searched your drawers. Finally, you found what you were looking for. The key to your grandfather’s room. Ever since he passed away, you have never entered there. 

“Please don’t let it be.” You whispered as you unlocked the door and entered. Basically, you turned the whole room upside down. 

What you were looking for? You didn’t know. A clue, a sign, something. 

-

You didn’t even know what time of day it was. Your phone was ringing off the hook, evident that the boys were all trying to get into contact with you. But you never answered. There you sat, looking at the items you laid out on the coffee table before you. 

“I need a break.” You rubbed your temples and stood up to go make yourself a coffee. Your mind was swirling with so many thoughts that it was giving you a terrible migraine. A knock came on your door. 

“Who is it?” You croaked, standing up and heading to the main door. 

“It’s me.” You heard Jimin’s soft voice on the other side of the door. Your hand stopped in it’s tracks and just rest on the door knob. 

“Please open the door, (y/n). We’re all worried about you.” Jimin whimpered softly, knocking gently. 

“I-I’m okay. Don’t worry a-about m-me.” You tried to sound assuring and confident, resting your forehead against the wooden material. Jimin grew sad, they were all worried what happened with you and now that you even refused to see him scared him even more. Just what did you find out that made you shut yourself away from them? 

“(y/n), please. Whatever it is. We can work it out together. No matter what your past is or where you came from, it doesn’t change the fact that we love you.” Jimin’s voice quivered. 

“I... just need to be alone for now. I’m sorry.” You whispered, hoping Jimin could hear you. He did. 

“Okay.” You heard his retreating footsteps. 

“Why have you hidden this from me?” You looked at the photo of you and your grandfather, throwing an arm over your eyes. Everything was so complicated now. It felt like you were in those stories, where the main character finds out that her whole life was a lie. 

Yoongi yawned, running a hand through his hair as he walked down the stairs. He was supposed to go patrolling with Namjoon tonight. When Jimin came home in tears, they knew something was wrong with you. 

“Hyung?” Namjoon came down. 

“Do you think she’s okay?” Yoongi asked as he stared out into the night.

“We’ll drop by to see how she is, but not try to go into her house. Seeing that she didn’t let Jimin in... Maybe we should just give her some more space.” Namjoon said. 

“I agree. She just takes all these things on her own. It’s like she’s afraid of telling us things.” Yoongi sighed. 

“She has been alone for so long, no one to talk to or share her sorrows with. She’s probably not used to having people around her that genuinely care for her.” Namjoon slipped his hoodie over his head, tossing it into the house. Yoongi nodded in agreement as Namjoon shifted first, stretching his front limbs followed by his back. 

“Hold on.” Yoongi stopped when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. His eyes widened when he saw your name. 

“Hello?” 

“Y-Yoongi.” 

“(y/n)! Is everything okay? Why are you whispering?” Yoongi grew panicked and for a split second, Namjoon shifted back, not caring that he was completely naked in the cold night. 

“Please come. I-I hear footsteps. O-Outside my home. I’m so s-scared. Please h-help me.” 

“I’m on my way, love. Stay hidden until we come and pack your things.” Yoongi said and hung up. He and Namjoon immediately shifted, their wolves being faster and having more navigation in the night. As they ran, Namjoon mind linked the others to let them know of the situation so they could catch up. 

“Namjoon.” Yoongi nodded over to two figures that were indeed loitering near the front of the house. 

“We’ll go round the back.” Namjoon said and Yoongi started walking to the back of the house. While waiting for the boys, you had packed all your essentials items.

“Hyung.” Jungkook whispered as he ran over. He had not shifted and remained in his human form. Yoongi pointed up to the window. 

“Hide. I’ll get her.” Jungkook said as he heard footsteps approaching. 

“(y/n).” Jungkook ran upstairs as quietly as he could and throw open the door. You gasped, thinking it was someone else but when you saw that it was Jungkook, you ran over and hugged him. He cupped the back of your head as you shivered against him in fear. Seeing that you had packed your things into bags, he hushed you. 

“The hyungs are downstairs. There are two intruders. The hyungs will distract them while we run out back.” Jungkook said. 

“Okay.” You nodded. 

“Wait.” Jungkook looked out the window to see the figures gone. But he heard them trying to break in through the front door. Jin and Jimin appeared. Jungkook tossed your bags down to them. 

*bark*

“That’s our signal.” Grabbing your hand, Jungkook led you downstairs and out the back door. Taehyung grabbed you and pulled you into the bushes. 

“I’ll go help.” Jungkook said and shifted. 

“We should move.” Jin instructed. 

“What about the others? We can’t just leave them. What if they get hurt or something?” You panicked. Hoseok, Jungkook, Yoongi and Namjoon were facing these people and they could potentially be armed and hurt your boys. Jin hushed you and held your hand. 

“Don’t worry, angel. They’ll be okay.” He whispered and pulled you along with them. As you tracked through the bushes, a loud explosion was heard behind you. Your blood froze. 

“Go! Go!” Taehyung said and you had a split second to turn around. 

“NO!” You wanted to run back but Taehyung lifted you up, carrying you the rest of the way, back to the house. 

“Let me go! No!” You cried as Taehyung continued running with Jin and Jimin behind. Your world was spinning and you choked on your sobs. The last thing you remembered was seeing your cabin being engulfed in flames. 

~~

Tag list

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[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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[albertasunrise]

Too Late - 3

Summary: You arrived with Steve Murphy in Colombia to assist in the war against Escobar, both of you are partnered with Javier Peña. The tall, dark and handsome DEA agent has a reputation for being Colombia’s Casanova but you soon learn there’s more to him than meets the eye. You realise too late… that you’re in love with him.

Pairings - Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings - Smut, Angst, Blood and Injury

Part 1, Part 2

~

Beeping. That’s the first thing you sense as your mind starts to come back online. Next was your head. It hurt. Why did it hurt? You were shot in the chest, weren't you? Your mind reeled as you slowly but surely regained the use of all your senses until finally, you cracked open your eyes and a familiar blonde came into view as your vision cleared.

Connie.

She was smiling at you as you tried to focus your mind, remember the events that had brought you here and then you remembered one detail vividly. It pained you as you recall it. Recall the feeling of relief that washed over you as you felt your life force slip away because you’d been at peace with the idea of dying, you were going to see him again. Only you weren’t going to now. No, now you were laying in a hospital bed alive and Javier was still very much dead.

Connie watched the changes in expressions that crossed your face as you battled with the thoughts and feels that raged inside and her brow furrowed in concern ‘How are you feeling?’ She asked sweetly, placing her hand on top of yours and pulling you from your dark thoughts.

‘Why did he save me?’ You questioned as tears started to slip down your cheeks ‘I was going to see Javi again.’ You sobbed ‘Why didn’t he let me die?’

‘What are you talking about hun? Javi’s alive.’ Connie stated in a confused tone ‘You were involved in a raid yesterday. Javier was shot in the abdomen and you had a bullet graze your head. You’ve got a concussion and you had to have a few stitches but you're lucky, it could have been so much worse. You’ve been asleep since yesterday, the pain meds they gave you knocked you for six.’

‘No Javi’s dead.’ You said, shaking your head as the tears continued to fall ‘He died two months ago. I was shot. Steve was holding me, begging me not to go but I could see him Con. I was going to see him again but Steve must have saved me.’

‘Sweetheart no.’ Connie replied, shaking her head ‘I promise you, Javier, isn’t dead but I will be honest with you… He’s in the ICU. He’s critical. The surgery was long and he’s been placed on life support but he’s strong, he’ll pull through.’

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ You asked, your face displaying the betrayal you felt at her deception ‘Why are you lying to me? You helped me heal. Helped me come to terms with losing him and now you’re telling me he's alive?’ You spit ‘What’s your end game, Connie?’

‘I’m not lying to you I promise you.’ She assured you ‘It was all a dream sweetie. Javier hasn't died. The raid was yesterday. It was probably a side effect of the medication they gave you.’

‘Prove it.’ You growled ‘Take me to him.’

Connie nodded, slipping out of the room to ask for a wheelchair before returning and helping you out of your bed and into the chair. She pushed you through the clinical, blue, hallways of the hospital and you looked up when you finally reached your destination to see ICU written in large, bold, letters above the entrance. A nurse kindly held the door open for you both as Connie wheeled you inside. The ward felt darker, more menacing but none of that mattered once she came to a stop outside one room, the door open. Steve was sat beside the bed, sleeping on his arms that wear resting on the edge of the bed. He looked tired, dark black backs under his eyes and you had found yourself wondering how much sleep he'd had since yesterday. Your eyes only lingered on the blonde for a moment longer before they drifted up and sure enough… There he was.

Javier Peña.

A thick tube jutted from between his straight teeth, held in place by a ribbon that wrapped around his head and disappeared in his dark curls. The next thing you noticed was the number machines that surrounded him. He seemed to have tubes jutting out of him left, right and centre, all of them keeping him alive in one way or another.

‘See.’ Connie said softly ‘He’s still with us.’ She finished, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

‘Bug?’ Steve’s voice suddenly pierced through the veil and you turned your head to look at him, his eyes still red from what could be sleep but could easily have been crying also ‘How you feeling?’

‘Head hurts but I’m okay.’ You replied plainly ‘How is he?’ Asked Connie.

‘Doc came by about half an hour ago.’ Started Steve as he rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms ‘No change but he assures me that’s positive. He’s not getting any worse.’

‘That’s good.’ Connie pipped up as she gave your shoulder a squeeze.

‘What are his chances?’ You questioned, voice wobbling a little as you remembered the pain you’d felt when you’d learned he was dead.

‘Doc said it could go either way.’

‘Cut the crap Steve and just tell me.’ You growled, eyes burning into him.

‘The bullet did a lot of damage.’ He stated plainly, scrubbing a hand over his face ‘It pierced his colon, they managed to repair it but… Well, he’s developed a pretty nasty infection… it took so long for medical support to get to you both. He’s on some pretty strong antibiotics but they aren’t a guarantee. It also lodged in one of his kidneys which they had to remove it. He lost a lot of blood…’

‘Chances Steve.’

‘Around forty per cent.’

The words rang in your ears. He had a forty per cent chance of living, which mean he had a sixty per cent chance of dying. You rolled yourself closer to his bed, studying him closely. You noted the way his skin glittered with sweat, his skin pale and eyes sunken. He looked so unwell and your heart broke at the sight.

‘He’s got a fever of a 104. They can’t seem to get it down but it’s not going up either.’ Continued Steve as he stood from his chair ‘Just have to hope the antibiotics start to work soon.’

You simply nodded, eyes fixed on Javier as your brain processed everything. Less than half an hour ago you’d woken convinced he was dead, that you’d gone two months grieving him but then you get shot, you woke up, and here he is. Was this real? Or was what Connie described as, a dream, real? It had felt real. The pain you felt when Steve had broken the news to you. The despair, the heartache. It had felt real when that man had fucked you, had made you cum. All of it had felt so real and yet here and now felt just as real as all of that had.

‘I’m going to go get some coffee Bug.’ Stated Steve as he walked towards his wife ‘I’ll give you some time alone with him.

You just nodded again, not wanting to tear your eyes away from him in case he disappeared like a puff of smoke on a windy day. You managed to push yourself up and out of the wheelchair and into the seat that Steve had occupied a few minutes before, it was still warm, along with the patch of bed he’d rested his head on as he slept. You held Javier's hand and brought it to your lips, wincing slightly at the heat that radiated from his skin but you cherished the feeling of being able to touch him again. Feel his skin against yours. You prayed to whatever deity that was listening for this to be real, for everything that you’d been through to be a dream and that this right here, was reality. You couldn't bear the idea of waking up to learn that Javi was really gone and you were alone.

‘Please don’t leave me, baby.’ You begged against the back of his hand ‘I love you. Please stay with me.

~

You were woken by alarms and the sound of urgent voices. You cracked open your eyes as someone pulled you away from Javier’s bed and suddenly your heart started to race.

‘What’s going on?’

‘His fever’s spiked.’ The doctor stated ‘We need to get his temperature down.’

‘Javi?’ You sobbed, eyes fixed on him as you were placed back in your wheelchair and removed from his room.

‘What’s going on?’ Questioned Steve as he and Connie sprinted into view ‘Bug what’s happening ?’

‘He uh… they said…’ You couldn’t seem to focus, your eyes locked on Javier as the doctors worked ‘Fever spiked.’

‘Shit.’ Connie breathed and both you and Steve looked at her.

‘What Con?’

‘If his Fever has spiked it's likely his Sepsis has developed into Septic Shock.’ She stated plainly, eyes flitting between the two of you.

‘And that's bad?’ Steve questioned.

Connie nodded grimly, her face falling as she saw the anguish that crossed your face. She hadn’t told Steve what had happened when you’d woken up but she could imagine what was going through your head. You get him back only to face losing him again. She watched you as you watched him, your mouth moving in silent prayer as the doctors and nurses fought to stabilise him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity the room started to empty and a doctor came to a standstill across from you all with a solemn expression on his face.

‘I’m not going to sugar coat this. He’s not doing well.’ He started ‘We were treating him for the sepsis but it appears the antibiotics weren’t responding and it’s progressed to Septic Shock. We are treating it with some aggressive medication but I need you all to prepare yourselves. He’s weak and his body’s struggling to fight this. We’ve done all we can… it’s down to him now.’

You nodded numbly as your eyes trailed back to Javi, his prone form laying there deathly still. You wheeled yourself back inside, pushing yourself to your feet and wobbling slightly before steadied yourself with his bed and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

‘I need you to listen to me Javi.’ You start ‘I love you, Javier Peña. I love you and I need you to fight this and come home to me.’ You commanded, voice staying surprisingly even ‘I need you to come back to me, baby. I lost you once. I can’t do it again.’

You weren't sure if he could hear you. You read in books and saw in shows that sometimes people in comas could hear you. You weren't sure how much stock you put in it normally but right now you prayed he could. You hoped that if he knew you loved him, that it would give him something to fight for. Of course, you had no idea if he loved you also, you hoped he did. The way you'd been fucking lately. It wasn't frenzied like it had been in the beginning. He had been taking his time with you, worshipping you, making love to you. That had to mean something. Right?

~

You sat at his bedside every single day and soon a week passed. You talked to him, cleaned him, shaved him, cared for him despite protests from the nursing staff. Steve had managed to convince the nurses to let you stay with him, a small cot had then been set up in the corner for you to sleep on. The day they’d taken him off the vent and he’d taken a shaky breath on his own was the happiest you had experienced since waking up. He had then been fitted with a nasal cannula to assist with his breathing but he no longer had to have a machine breathe for him. His fever gradually started to lower, the medication finally beating the infection in his blood and finally you allowed yourself to hope. The nurses brought you meals every day, you'd been surprised by how good they were compared to some that you'd experienced in the States. There was one nurse that came regularly to check on him, you could see in her eyes that she was taken by him and instead of feeling jealous you talked to her about him. She was British. Had come to Colombia with her husband who was a citizen. You had then learned that he had been a Government official who'd ended up getting shot and killed a few months previous. You told her about your relationship with Javier, how you were worried that you may be too late to tell him how you feel or how he might now feel the same but she'd taken your hand and told you to do it. That you'd always regret it if you didn't tell him the truth.

‘Steve and Con stopped by earlier.’ You said as you forked some hospital pancake into your mouth ‘Steve’s being getting hounded at work for news on you. I guess you’re more popular than you realised.’ You said with a chuckle.

A groan suddenly fell from Javi’s lips and you were on your feet in an instant, holding his hand tightly as you watched his face twitch. Then his hands started to move and your heart started to skip as he squeezed yours. Then finally he cracked open his eyes and those familiar brown orbs peeked through, setting you ablaze.

‘Bug?’

‘Yeah, Javi it’s me.’ You sobbed ‘I’m here.’

‘Wa-water.’ He managed to stutter out, his mouth so dry that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

‘Here.’ You said softly as you brought an ice chip to his mouth. The nurses had kept bringing them in case he woke up and at first you'd thought it a pointless task but now you were grateful they had.

You gave him another which he accepted graciously and then another before he finally held his hand up to stop you from giving him anymore. He scrunched his eyes shut for a few moments as the fog in his brain cleared more and more but ultimately his gaze fell on you, his chocolate brown eyes studying you carefully.

‘How you feelin’ Peña?’ You asked, grinning at him as he smiled back at you but your expression changed when his brow furrows.

‘i heard you.’ He said out of the blue and you gave him a bemused look ‘I heard you speaking to me.’

‘Yeah?’ You questioned, curious as to what it was he heard.

‘You said you’d lost me.’

‘Oh, that… yeah that’s a long story.’ You said nervously as you scratched the back of your neck, looking anywhere but at him.

‘You said you loved me.’

Your gaze shot up then, locking with his as your eyes started to prickle with new tears and you swallowed thickly, desperately trying to form just one simple word with your tongue.

‘Yes.’ You whispered, eyes wide as you started to panic.

‘I love you too.’ He replied, a single tear escaping from the corner of his eye.

~

Chapter 4

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier pena #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #narcos fanfiction x reader #narcos fanfiction x you #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

[todoscript]

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬

@grow-a-smile-for-a-while​ requested: i request 7 fluff + 10 angst please? With either Bakugou or Shinsou. (With 10 angst being them worried about the readers mental health) Thank you so much love ur writing!!1! 💗💗

anonymous requested: 7 fluff soulmate au for shinsou please!! Love your work 💛

prompt for milestone event: “I think you might be my soulmate.” + “I’m worried about you.” genre: soulmate au. angst with a bit of fluff. pairing: shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader word count: 3.1k+ warnings: implications of mental health issues.

author’s note: I combined the two requests since they both share the same prompt! This is actually my first time writing a soulmate au so I hope it’s alright. Special thank you to my lovely beta readers @tamasoft​ & @etegomanere​!

Throughout his entire life, Shinsou has only ever known the colors white, black, and gray.

They’re colors that prevent him from fully embracing the world as he walks through life each day peering through muddy lenses. Some say beyond the glass that obscures them all lies a realm painted in beautiful hues, teeming with an euphoria of colors outside the monochrome of perpetual black and white.

If such a paradise exists, Shinsou has yet to see or meet anyone that has ever set foot in that world. In fact, he honestly doubts such a thing is real, and has long adapted into his endless days stuck between the grays filtering through his vision.

However, today, he experiences something entirely new.

Today, he sees the color red.

It starts early in the morning, from the very moment he lifts himself up from his bed at the white sunlight trickling into his dorm room. There, with unlidded eyes, he glimpses into a vibrant, spontaneous pigment that lines itself on the outside.

Shinsou blinks twice, squinting, unsure if the grisly stain invading his vision is really there. But after consecutively rubbing his eyes in an attempt to brush it away, he groans when the angry color has yet to leave. The crimson that surrounds him is very much real.

With an average person, they’d be ecstatic, absolutely joyful at the change happening before—no, within their very eyes. What they’re seeing now is only a step forward toward that rumored world of infinite hues—a whole artist’s palette of colors waiting for them. Sadly, that isn’t the case for Shinsou as he realizes he’ll have to go about his day lugging such… severity surrounding him.

The extremity of the hue that covers the corner of his sight reminds him of fires setting ablaze in the thick of a forest. It hurts to look at, hurts to stride through his day with such an intense color following his every move like it’s tormenting him. If this is what the other colors are like, he’d rather keep to his monochromatic existence, please. Just even looking up and darting his head around is enough to give him a headache.

“Whoa, my man Shinsou, you okay?” Shinsou’s classmate, Kaminari, asks him while the upbeat boy takes his seat to his right, noticing the grim expression on his classmate’s face that likely isn’t due to any lack of sleep this time, considering its austerity.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” Shinsou assures, managing to suppress the extra strain leaking out when he turns his head. With the red intensifying at his movements, he wills himself just to look straight ahead for now. That’s all he needs to get through the school day anyway—directing his eyes to the front of the classroom where their homeroom teacher, Aizawa, enters to give them the news for the day. And yet, he can’t help but allow himself drift to your empty desk lying to his left, located one seat down the column from his.

He grumbles. That makes it three days now—three days since you last attended class.

Shinsou knows you haven’t been going to class because you “weren’t feeling well”—the answer you gave him when he approached you last night as you were walking down the hallway to your room.

He knew something was wrong. Your demeanor in that moment felt off, it was strange and unlike you.

You were rubbing your hands up and down your skin, acting like just being in his presence was nerve-wracking, and you never once met his eyes during the conversation. No matter how often he craned his head to see you, you made a point to turn away each time. And much to Shinsou’s concern, he also caught onto the heavy bags afflicted beneath your eyes. You looked like you haven’t had much of an ounce of sleep, despite taking time off from classes to recover. It only seemed that you were only getting worse at that point, and he grew worried every second in front of you.

But before Shinsou could pry further, you hastily ended the exchange with a sputtered good night and retreated back to your dorm room, slamming the door shut as if to reinforce a barrier that would keep him away. The next thing he knew, he headed to sleep, and woke up seeing the color red.

Staring at the vacant desk instills something in him that makes the red glow brighter, consuming more of his grayscale almost angrily. He winces as the throb courses through his head with growing intensity.

“Shinsou, you alright?”

Aizawa directs his concern toward him in the middle of his lecture when he notices Shinsou shrink in his seat at the pain. From the very moment he turns to answer his teacher, the pulses bleeding into his head subside, and the fiery hues return to a tamer tinge.

He answers Aizawa with a small nod, though it isn’t enough to dispel the teacher’s doubt right away. Aizawa, in turn, raises a brow, discreetly gauging his student’s condition. Luckily for Shinsou, it isn’t long until he brushes it off and resumes the lecture, gathering the students’ attention again, aside from the boy on Shinsou’s right.

Kaminari flattens his hand next to his mouth, words coming out in a whisper only audible enough for his friend to hear, “Dude, I don’t think you’re okay… You looked like you were going through some severe migraine when I got into the classroom.”

“I told you, it’s nothing, okay?” Shinsou replies, not diverting his eyes from the front of the room and putting Kaminari’s concern to rest for now as he shrugs in return.

However, his words aren’t enough to impede his headaches from coming back during the day. They grow more potent than ever as the crimson ignites across his vision.

What the hell is going on? Shinsou questions at this point when Midnight, their instructor for today’s hero course, advises him to head to the nurse’s office after he stumbles across the training field one too many times to be healthy for him. Begrudgingly following her order, he lugs himself to Recovery Girl’s office, who advises him to have a seat before she assesses his condition.

“So, you’ve been having headaches, have you?” the old woman asks, voice coming out like sandpaper while she scans across a page on her clipboard. “Tell me, when did they start?”

Shinsou rubs the back of his neck. “Just this morning, when I woke up,” he answers, “and they’ve only been getting worse.” He leans forward on his elbows settled atop his thighs, grumbling under his breath over the mess of his day so far. The red surrounding him swells relentlessly in waves. He narrows his brows tightly at the vermillion adjoining his hands, delving into the crevices of his palms as they pulse like a heartbeat.

Recovery Girl hums between those thin, balmy lips of hers, gloved finger beneath her chin before she decides to hop off her seat and head toward the cabinets.

“Well, this isn’t a wound or physical injury of some sort, so I can’t use my quirk to heal you. However, I can prescribe you a drug used to relieve migraines if that’s fine.”

He nods and Recovery Girl rummages through the shelves and pulls out a transparent container. With her small steps slowly approaching toward him, Shinsou gets up to meet her in the middle, hand held out to retrieve the medicine.

“I also suggest you head back to your dorm for now and rest up. You’re in no condition to train at the moment.”

“Right, thanks,” Shinsou says, burying the container in the pocket of his pants. He gets up from his seat, steps proceeding to the exit of her office. When he makes it to the doorway, a thought finds its way at the forefront of his mind, and he pauses for a minuscule moment.

“Recovery Girl,” he decides to call out, head tilted in the small woman’s direction.

“Yes?”

“Has Y/n been seeing you recently? About her… unwellness?” He words carefully, unsure of how to put your condition to light when he was still kept in the dark from you.

Recovery Girl shows her confusion between the small, wrinkled features on her face. She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t heard or seen much of her recently. Why? Is something wrong?”

Shinsou’s lips purse together, an uneasy feeling creeping on him that the stain on his vision reacts to instantly. He feigns a stoic expression over the backlash not to worry the lady, his right hand clutching over the shape formed on his pocket from the container underneath.

“It’s fine. I’ll check on her when I get back to the dorms,” he tells her, and the old lady simply blinks, her aged, dull senses unaware.

“Very well. Make sure to get your rest and take your painkillers, alright?”

“Yeah, I know.”

With that, Shinsou makes his leave. Unusual to him, however, his steps begin to pick up for some reason at every stride down the hallways of the building. He’s not sure where this urgency is coming from, but he can’t find it within himself to stop moving, and in fact, quickens his pace until he’s making his way back to the Heights Alliance dormitories.

The gray in his eyes is now gone. Red is what consumes his sight, vividly turning every shade around him into crimson. Whatever crosses his path bleeds and quivers in jagged red edges, from wooden floorboards to the sunlight filtering through the windows. He’s not sure what this could mean, but the one thing Shinsou is certain about is that something is wrong. And he needs to go to you.

True to his word, the first thing he does is jab the button on the elevator to the building’s highest floor, walking out after his ascent with eyes aimed at your dorm room. What comes next is three firm knocks against the wood of your door, making a point to let his presence be known on the off chance you can’t hear him.

“Y/n?” he voices, your name echoing in the empty expanse of the hallway on his side, “It’s me, Shinsou. Please open up. I just want to check on you.”

There’s approximately three seconds of pause before Shinsou leans into the door, ear pressing against it to catch any sign of movements on the other side. He hears a rustle or two until it’s replaced by the padding of feet on the floor. Standing back, he prepares for the door to open as the golden doorknob rattles into a turn.

“Shinsou,” you greet quietly with the entrance’s slow swing, where he sees you peer at him from a crack between the door. Your tired eyes find him, and he immediately notes the bagginess still persisting underneath. They give his own dark eye bags a run for their money.

Though his edginess remains, the red dissipates back into grays, blacks, and whites. His head is now absent of those headaches that plagued him as he gazes through those muddy, monochromatic lenses again.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t class going on right now?”

“It is, but I was sent back,” Shinsou tells you, eyes never leaving yours as he observes you attentively. “wasn’t feeling well.”

You cross your arms on your chest, looking down while you squeeze a bit of your skin to busy your hands. There’s a significant silence between you two that Shinsou wishes didn’t drag on for so long. Before he can come up with anything to resolve the tension, you’re already a step ahead, beating him in breaking the silence.

“Well… if that’s all then I’m going to head back to my room,” you say. Your hand clutches the doorknob to pull it back in, but Shinsou’s quick to act.

“No, wait—!”

He braces his foot between the gap just in time to stop the door’s movement, the hinges creaking due to the sudden halt. Staring at him, you’re dazed by his actions as he pries the crack open further.

“Y/n, I know there’s something wrong,” he states, hoping his usual keen intuition is enough for you not question this. He doubts you’d believe him if he ever told you the very color red led him to this moment.

You deny his claims, fingers firm on the knob. “I told you yesterday that it was nothing.”

“No. You’re not alright, Y/n.” His calloused hands cup your face, tilting up to guide you to his eyes—eyes that appear just as gray to you as they are to him. You stare into them, unable to reply at how unyielding he is toward your condition.

Despite the homologous grayscale of colors, Shinsou can see it all. He sees the stress carried in your eyes, down to the tension in your face that tires from feigning smiles every day. He knows you’re hurting just keeping up the withering cracks of your fortitude. Yet you can’t stop yourself from picking up your porcelain again, trying to mend them with the cruddy glue that is your mentality. If you continue this, you’d surely fall apart into too many pieces to put back together.

“Please, talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

You have no idea how much those words have an effect on you. Not until you’re suddenly weeping in front of him, tears spilling down your eyes as your throat begins to sunder into sobs. All he can do is offer you the solace of his warm embrace as he tugs your arm so your form is drawn into his body. He feels the tears prickle into his shirt, wetness seeping into his skin, but he doesn’t care. Shinsou holds you in his arms and pats against your hair gently, treating you like you are delicate earthenware bound to break as you tremble.

“I-I’m just s-so tired, and stressed, and I-I don’t know w-what to do s-s-sometimes,” you sob between words, voice muffled into his chest. Shinsou hushes you softly, unwavering in warmth.

“It’s okay. I know. You can let it all out, I’m here for you,” he assures firmly. The two of you stay there in that position for some time, your cries isolated in the empty expanse of the hallway with the dormitory vacant except for yourselves. When they begin to die down, Shinsou perceives his vision changing again.

This time, what greets him is a muted blue. The shade is not far off from the steely grays he’s accustomed to, but distinguishable enough for him to notice the change. It’s a sad color that reminds him of tears and lonely clouds.

Shinsou glimpses down at you, your body finally still against him, yet he can tell your aches are far from healed.

You sniffle, backing away when you realize you’re still nuzzled into his chest, now stained with damp patches on his white button-up. He gives you your space, smoothing the strands of your hair one last time before he parts. Though he makes an effort to hold your hand as your other rubs the hot wetness away from your puffy eyes.

“You… alright?” he asks, lightly squeezing your fingertips. You don’t give him much, just a slow, descending nod that is enough for him to continue gingerly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your initial hesitance almost makes him retract his question, afraid that he may have poked further than was comfortable, but you mitigate that thought with another nod, allowing him inside your dorm room.

When your door clicks to a close, you lean against it and watch as the taller boy stands aimlessly in the middle of the room.

“Shinsou?” you call, and he perks up.

“Yeah?”

“How did you know... what was going on?” you ask, voice drawing out across your room quietly.

For once, Shinsou doesn’t have an answer. He stands there, silent, unable to approach your question with a clear response. But there’s a lingering voice in his head telling him that he knows what led him to you deep down.

The colors.

He realizes the red enveloping his vision this entire time was connected to you. From waking up, glimpsing at your desk, to mentioning any thought of you, the color only ever intensified. And it calmed down at the very moment you opened your door, turning blue from your sadness washing in waves before him.

Shinsou draws in a breath of air. He’s not sure how to relay this notion in any other way than the words that cross his mind.

I think you might be my soulmate.

His heart suddenly flutters at the mere inkling of the words spoken in his head. It sounds almost far-fetched, reminding him of romantic fairy tales narrated in storybooks. Still, he can’t conjure any other resolution than this—can’t find any explanation for these connections of colors that bind your consciousness to him.

A small, inner part in him desires to blurt this out to you, let it be known of the fate stringing your pinkies together through the pigments painted on his canvas. But staring back into your swollen, tired eyes, he knows he can’t do that right now. What you need is for him to be by your side and help you recollect your thoughts. Learning about the possibility that you’re his soulmate is likely the last thing you want to hear in your condition.

He shakes his head, brows knitting together. “I’m not entirely sure about it myself,” he starts warily, coming closer to reach out for your hand again, “but all I know is that whatever happened led me here to you. Told me when you were at your weakest.” Shinsou twines your fingers together, lightly pulling you away from the door and toward the middle of the room. “And that was enough for me to come.”

When the comforting words depart his mouth, he swears that in an infinitesimal moment, those grays of his canvas spatter with droplets of color as he gazes down at you with only compassion in his eyes. That his black and white world transforms into that rumored paradise of beautiful hues for just a second until in the next blink, they’re gone.

He doesn’t know what to make of it, but it’s sufficient for him that whenever he glimmers into your eyes, colors are lying in wake underneath the monochrome. So he clutches your hand in his, allowing you to spill your thoughts out to relieve them off your shoulders as he hopes that one day, you and him can walk in tandem together into the color.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnhabookclub #bnha scenarios #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou scenarios #mha x reader

[suttttton]

An Invitation

How do you get Jonathan Sims to go on a date with you? Easy. Step one: Trick him by giving him a fake statement filled with puzzles that lead him to the date location of your choice. Step two: Profit?

---

“Jon,” Sasha says, leaning against his desk.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up from his work.

“D’you want to get lunch with me today?” she asks. It’s just a casual question. They’ve gotten lunch together before, and she knows that Jon won’t interpret her question in a romantic way, but her stomach still thrums with nervousness. It’s… different, now that she’s decided to let herself have a crush on him. Now that she’s decided that, eventually, she’ll ask him on a real date.

He doesn’t even look at her, just shakes his head. “Can’t, I’m a bit swamped this week. I’ve got a lot of—things…” he trails off, drawn back into his work. The exciting world of follow-up research. She stands there for another minute, just watching him, knowing that he has forgotten her entirely. It’s one of those things that should be annoying, but is really just… deeply endearing. Ugh.

She’s going to ask him on that date soon.

***

When she asks Jon out, she tries to be obvious about it. Jon has a hard time reading social signals at the best of times, and she wants to make things easy for him. She’s not the most comfortable with grand gestures, but she’s got a bit theater kid in her yet, and she’s sure she can make it work.

She finds Jon in the break room, eating a bowl of microwavable soup and staring blankly at nothing. Very adorable. She knocks twice on the table, getting his attention, and he blinks once and smiles at her.

“Jon, there’s something I want to ask you,” she says. She can feel heat rising in her face. God, this is about to be embarrassing. She really, really hopes he doesn’t turn her down. (Why would he turn you down, James? You’re a catch.)

She gets on one knee, takes his hand. “Jonathan Sims,” she says dramatically. “Would you do me the honor of coming to dinner with me on Friday?”

He looks at her, and his eyebrows furrow. “Sorry Sasha,” he says, “but I can’t. I requested some books, and they’re supposed to arrive Friday. I was planning to get started on them Friday evening.”

She sighs. She’d take it as a graceful rejection, if she hadn’t seen Jon reject people before. He got nervous and stuttery and hyper-apologetic. He doesn’t look at all uncomfortable now, just confused as to why she’s on the floor.

He doesn’t know that she’s trying to ask him on a date.

Later, replaying the scene in her mind, she realizes what the problem was. They were at work. Even with her making it as dramatic as possible, the environment was too casual. She asked him to do platonic activities with her all the time while they were at work—why would he assume differently?

She needs to ask him when they aren’t at the Institute, somewhere where she can make a whole presentation of it. She’ll buy him flowers, sweep him off his feet.

Except.

He keeps turning down her offers to spend time together. When he isn’t busy with follow-up, he’s busy researching the Leitner books. It’s… stupidly endearing. And unhealthy. Jon doesn’t look unwell, really, but he does look… stressed, hunched over his desk all day. Jon needs a break from work, not just so she can ask him on a date, but also so he doesn’t drive himself into a nervous breakdown.

Sasha hatches a plan.

***

It doesn’t take long to put together. Just an evening, researching cryptic puzzles, scouting out locations that aren’t too far from the Institute, writing a nonsensical statement in the ‘I saw a ghost in a graveyard and it was spooky’ vein.

The only problem is how to get the fake statement into Jon’s caseload without him noticing. She can’t just drop it on his desk, not with him there all day long. She could get Lydia involved, but she isn’t sure the Head of Research would approve of her plan, and even if she did, Lydia is a bad liar. Jon would know something was up.

In the end, Jon solves the problem for her. He leans back in his chair, hisses over to her, “Sasha! Swap with me?”

“Spiders?” she asks, and he winces, nods. She holds out her hand, and flicks through the offending file. It has all the hallmarks of a false statement, but—

“I felt thousands of legs swarming over me, filling up my mouth, my nose—”

She snaps the folder shut, wrinkling her nose. “No problem,” she says. She hands Jon the fake statement. “You can take this one, I haven’t gotten started on it yet.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling. Her stomach flips, and she watches for a few moments longer as he gets to work.

***

It would be suspicious for her to be staring at Jon the entire time he’s working on the statement, so instead she just glances over every once in a while, making sure he doesn’t immediately drop the statement in the ‘discredited’ pile.

He doesn’t. Instead, his frown deepens as he’s drawn in, trying to figure out the puzzle she’s left for him. The statement is clearly fake, but a few of the words are—wrong. Nonsensical. Gibberish.

She sees Jon go over and over the text, marking every strange word. Then he picks up his phone, dials the number listed on the statement. It’s a disconnected number, and Jon’s frown deepens.

He thinks for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on his desk. Then he pulls out a notepad, begins writing on it, consulting the statement to transcribe the strange words exactly.

At that point, Sasha knows she has him. Jon loves puzzles, and now that he knows there’s a puzzle to solve in the statement, he’s not going to stop until he figures it out.

It’s a simple Caesar cipher, with the phone number as its key. It yields the message:

Here are the coordinates:

CH.HCGDHCGFYERE, -HB.KGICCECIF0WI

In order to crack the coordinates, Jon simply has to replace each letter with its numerical position in the alphabet. Jon is smart, he’ll figure it out. The coordinates belong to a cryptid-themed restaurant in America called the Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grille.

Once, the Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grill website landing page contained several blurry photos of “Moth Man,” along with a somehow even blurrier photo of a restaurant menu. Now, it’s a nightmarish jumble of the strangest stock photos Sasha could find, along with a single hyperlink that just says, “Click me!”

(Sasha included this step because she finds it deeply entertaining to watch Jon click on the shadiest links possible. It’s revenge for all the viruses she’s had to clean off his computer.)

The link leads to a much more tasteful webpage. It’s has a single picture of a rose on it, and below that it just says, “An Invitation”. Then it gives the address of a very cute little cafe just a short walk from the Institute. Beneath that, “Tonight. 7:00pm.”

It takes about an hour for Jon to figure out the Caesar cipher, and after that he works through the puzzle quickly. It’s a delight, watching his face when he sees “Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grille,” and even better when he sees the monstrosity she’s made of their website.

He clicks the link without even a second of hesitation, which almost makes Sasha laugh out loud. And then he’s just staring at the invitation. He opens a new tab, opens Google Maps, puts in the address. She sees the back-in-forth in his head—‘Tonight’ has probably long since passed, and he isn’t likely to find anything if he shows up at the cafe at 7:00pm tonight.

But Jon is stubborn, and if he doesn’t go ‘Tonight,’ it’ll eat at him. She’s trapped him. He’ll show up. She’s certain of it.

***

She debates for a long time if she should wear a dress, or a button-up shirt and tie. She decides on the tie. It has ferns on it, and she needs the calming vibes.

It’s starting to sink in, what she’s done.

Why didn’t she just say, “Jon, I am asking you on a date”? That would have been so much easier! Christ, she’s tricked her crush into going on a date with her. What kind of creep does that?

She’s terrified Jon will be angry with her. Or worse, hurt. This whole thing is technically a prank. What if Jon thinks she’s just… making fun of him?

She stops by a flower shop on her way there, and the shop assistant asks what she needs, and she’s so nervous by then that she actually says, “I tricked my friend into going on a date with me, and I need flowers that will prevent him from hating me forever.”

“Right,” the man says, uncertainly. “Well—” And then he makes Sasha a very, very nice arrangement because, unlike Sasha, he isn’t a complete mess.

Sasha arrives at the cafe thirty minutes early, because she knows Jon. She knows he’ll want to stake out the place ahead of time. She knows she has to arrive ridiculously early to beat him there.

But apparently, she’s underestimated him because he’s already there.

He’s seated at a table in the corner, where he can see the entire dining room. He’s still wearing his clothes from work, and there’s a pastry in front of him.

He’s watching the door, of course he is, so he sees her come in.

“Sasha!” he calls, waving wildly at her. It makes something pang in her chest, that Jon’s instinct upon seeing her in a public place is to excitedly greet her. She certainly isn’t that kind of person.

She smiles, walks over to him. Her fingers are curled tightly around the flowers, crinkling the paper just slightly.

“Do you have a date tonight?” he asks, looking her over, his eyes still flicking back and forth between her and the door.

“I hope so,” she says.

He frowns. “Are they late? Or—”

She hands him the flowers. “These are for you.”

He looks at them, bewildered, then back at Sasha. “What—”

“The invitation was from me,” Sasha says, sitting down across from him. “I faked the statement, and I made the puzzles.”

He stares at her for moment, then at the flowers, then back at her. She waits for him to yell at her, or run off, or—she doesn’t know.

Then he starts laughing. It’s—wonderful, when he laughs. He always tries to hide his face, and this time he decides to use the flowers for that purpose, stifling his giggles against the petals. “Sasha, I—I thought it was going to be the, the Mob, or something.”

Sasha can’t help but start laughing too. “You thought the Mob sent secret messages to each other using a Caesar cipher?”

“I don’t know!” Jon says. “This is—” He lets out a long breath. “Well, I did enjoy the—game, I suppose.”

They look at each other for a long moment.

“Wait,” Jon says. “So I’m your date?”

“If you want to be,” Sasha says.

Jon smiles. “I—” He laughs again. “Yes. Of course I do.”

#tma #tma fic #my fic #jonsasha #fluff #this idea grabbed me this morning and wouldn't let go until i wrote it #i just love Agent of Chaos!Sasha so much

[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.

#suicide squad #katana #captain boomerang #tatsu yamashiro #digger harkness #kaboom #captain boomerang x katana #boomerang x katana #dc #my fic #gella talks skwad #talk talk talk #my magnum opus lmao #amazed i managed to translate this. i am not a woman i'm a god indeed #once again i still know nothing about the geography of the dceu!united states #and whether a city like metropolis could have an opera house

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