#and using the WORD OF THE DAY to chose my title as per usual

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

I WOULDN’T DREAM OF IT.

Chapter 2 - Roll The Dice

Black!Carol Danvers x Maria Rambeau

Ft. Monica Rambeau

CW: slight mentions of- homophobic slurs(not written out), deciding not to report harassment in the military, one mention of a security/police officer, being drunk/partying, minor cuts/scrapes/bruises, parenting, loss of a parent, childhood trauma, regaining lost memories. also, a big part of this chapter is set in a flashback. nothing too crazy for any of this, but I just want everyone to know that these things are mentioned!

A/N: hey y'all! so, I wrote this like a book. it's long per usual, and this one's a bit angsty but nothing too serious. also sooooo sorry this is so late lmao, life comes at you hard and fast sometimes but we getting it together every day! I'll try to be quicker w/ updates🫡. much love, muahhh. thank you for reading! x ps. this isn't proof read bc I stayed up til 6:30 in the morning to finish writing it LMFAOO.💀 I'll come back at some point and proof read it, but sorry for any typos/grammar/syntax oddities as always.

Word Count: 19,078 (jump scare🫣)

Link to AO3!

title header & mood art by me⋆˙⟡♡ pls don't use/post elsewhere without asking! (lmk if y'all like it though! i'm thinking about doing stuff like this for all/most of my fics maybe)

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@mybonafidefeelings @maysflourish @nanajen8

also go read @mybonafidefeelings's new danbeau/carolxmaria series RIGHT NEOWWWW if you haven't already🥰

and while you're at it, go check out all the fics everyone in the taglist have written! they never disappoint!

here we gooooo, I hope you enjoy part two.💗

Once Monica finished her breakfast, she helped Carol clean up while she told her stories about her friends at school, all the inventions she'd come up with, and any other story her mind mustered up. She wanted to fill in as many blanks as possible for her other mother. Carol listened intently, taking in every moment of her daughter. She wanted to remember everything, even the things that might not seem important to other parents in different circumstances. She wanted to be able to reference these stories, prove that she remembered, that she cared enough to listen. Partly because her own parents never showed an interest, instead always finding the time to show their genuine dislike for her for whatever many reasons they had, or just disregarding her altogether. But also because Monica had always been so welcoming, so ready to receive her back like nothing had happened - or maybe like everything did happen and she still chose to hold on tight to her mother, choosing not to let the time separate them. So Carol held on tight too, wanting to prove she was reliable to the girl. She appreciated how open Monica was to her returning, but she also knew she had been gone for a long time. Longer than she should have been, she often thought. She knew that Monica was young, and might eventually change her mindset on the matter. She had every right to. It would make sense to feel some kind of way, and that scared Carol to her core. So she wanted to at least try and show up in the best way she could. Be present, be a mother - not just someone who literally drops in every now and then. She wanted to give the girl something she could hold onto, something she could trust.

Carol was always so in awe of both of the Rambeaus. Even though Maria always said that she and Monica were so much alike, she loved how much she was just like her mother too. Stubborn, but sure of herself. Interested in everything, always ready to learn and push forward - but soft, in her own way. Gentle, patient and kind. They both would go out of their way, even if it didn’t always seem like they were. She looked like her, too. Her brown eyes, her hair, the way she walked. She was just like Maria in the best ways (not that there was a bad way to be like Maria Rambeau), and also very much just herself. Just Monica, and she was the most amazing child the world had ever managed to produce. Carol was sure of it. 

When they had finished in the kitchen, Carol decided to take a shower too. The hot water should be filled up again, and she was starting to feel the leftover sweat from last night mixing with the approaching heat from the day. Monica sat on the couch and turned on some cartoons, feeling fulfilled from breakfast which made Carol feel proud of herself for a lot of reasons. Cooking was something she always struggled with because she never had anybody to teach her. Maria thinks she might just naturally be a clutz in the kitchen too, but regardless, she worked with her for years as they grew up trying to teach her how to cook, giving her the gentle instruction and patience she never had. Usually to no avail, but it was a fond memory for both of them. Carol smiled, thinking that if her success in making pancakes this morning was any indication of the kind of day she would have with her daughter, she was sure it would be a good one. She wandered back upstairs, running her hands along the walls that still had blue and purple marker stains on them in some spots. As she walked through the hallway towards her shared room, she passed Monica’s room and couldn't help but smile. The girl’s room was what anybody would expect if they’d met her. A little messy, super colorful. She had her personality everywhere. A model of the solar system she had made when she was a little younger for a school project hung from the ceiling over her bed. A stuffed animal Carol had won for her at a carnival when she was a toddler, Maria had one to match that she secretly kept hidden in the drawer next to her bed still. She had drawings on blue construction paper all over her walls, mostly of her inventions (she called them her blueprints). The one picture that was on regular white paper had the word “Family” written on it. A crayon picture of Maria and Carol, with Monica in the middle. Carol’s heart skipped a beat seeing it. She was so lucky, she thought again. She passed the door and made her way to the end of the hall with a happy stride. The day had just begun and she was already doing better than she expected. 

She stepped into the room and paused, her smile growing inward in an almost shy way. She was greeted with the scent and feel of Maria. She inhaled deeply, feeling a level of comfort roll through her body and pang in her chest. Mmm. Carol whispered to herself, almost embarrassed. But she couldn’t help it. She was everywhere. As much as they had kept Carol present in their lives, making sure she was alive and never erased from her fingerprint on the home, it had still been years since Carol had been gone so it made perfect, almost comforting sense to her that they had made it their own. They had to make it comfortable, they had to fill in the empty space. Just like Monica’s room, Maria’s was a perfect snapshot of her personality. It was well kept, everything had a place to be. If it ever did get messy, Carol was sure it didn’t last long. She looked over the room, noting the books next to the bed where Maria slept, all of them half read with bookmarks Monica had made her in them. She looked at the tray of jewelry sitting on the dresser, full of small dainty necklaces and a few pairs of stud earrings with different shapes, and a few pairs of hoops Maria would only wear if she was going out. She looked at the closet, one side open from this morning. All the clothes are organized by color, with a few boxes sitting on the top shelf. Even the bed they had slept in, it was already made perfectly to military standards with the edges tucked in perfectly - except for the top where Maria had extra pillows, all with light purple pillow cases contrasting the perfect white ones underneath.

She looked at the picture frames sitting on Maria’s perfectly organized desk as she walked over to it. On the left side was a picture of her and Monica at a park that had to be fairly recent, a picture of Maria standing outside the SWORD office smiling huge next to an older man in uniform, and a picture of Maria with her brother which must’ve been years old because Maria looked like she was in middle school maybe, making Carol reminisce about the girl she used to know. On the right side of the desk sat two pictures that didn’t face in all the way like the other two, as if they were put there intentionally but also intentionally not looked at as much. One, in a light purple frame, was Maria’s mother. Carol had never met the woman but had seen her face many times growing up in Maria’s father’s house. It was the same then, almost like the woman must have put the pictures of herself up and they didn’t have the heart to take them down, but they tried their best not to look. Next to that sat a framed picture of Carol and Maria smiling at the local bar they used to go to, their uniforms half undone and Carol’s hair out of regs with her aviators pushed back and a red bandana around her head. She remembers the bar more now, Pancho’s. She had been there with Fury and it jogged a lot of things for her, but she so badly wants to remember that day specifically. She runs her fingers close to it, but doesn’t dare to touch. She tries to remember the song they would sing together, all the lyrics. She can’t but she remembers how it felt to jump around for hours and then walk home, too drunk most times, bumping into each other and letting touches and looks linger a little too long, and then having to get up early the next day. She remembers that they would take turns walking each other to their barracks, sometimes daring to sleep in each other's rooms when they thought they might not get caught, always leaving one of them to sneak out in the morning. Carol laughs, thinking about how Maria was right last night, and how she was always better at leaving quietly than Carol.

When her eyes refocus on the photo, she can’t help but wonder how many times Maria had flipped the frame over, hiding the memory from herself. She wonders, just for a moment, if she would’ve been able to live through the grief she put her through. She would never know just how bad it was for Maria, she would never be able to see from her eyes what the woman went through or how she pulled herself out of bed every day and raised a child by herself, kept working, started SWORD. She wondered if Maria ever went back to that bar, or if she ever listened to the song again. She would never know how the woman truly felt in those years or what she did to keep herself busy, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel right asking. She wanted to think about the past few months, after everything. She wanted to think about how it must be even worse, in a way, knowing that Carol was out there saving other people while Monica grew up and Maria trudged on with no choice. She wanted to think about it but couldn’t, knowing what would happen if she let her mind attach to the thoughts and feelings. She gazed at the photo again and turned away, deciding that maybe she didn’t need to remember everything right now. 

She walked over to the box they had pulled out last night for her and started going through some clothes, looking for something to change into. She realized that while she was in space, her suit did all the work for her - she never had to worry about pulling an outfit together. It did the heating, drying, cooling, protecting her from any number of threats - all while containing her powers in a comfortable way for her. So as she sorted through her belongings, she was now also coming to the realization that it also had built in underwear. She only had two pairs of regular underwear to her name and she was wearing one of them. She frantically sifted through the big box to no avail. She questioned why she would only have two pairs of underwear, rather than all of her undergarments or none of them at all. She guessed that the Air Force had something to do with it, remembering that they had packed everything up for Maria to come pick up instead of letting her do it. She cursed them under her breath, mad that once again Maria had something taken from her, deciding that she had no option but to wear the pair of boxer briefs she had found and figure it out later. She grabbed the boxers, an old band tee shirt and a pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom. 

When she walks in the bathroom, she can hear Monica’s cartoons from the living room. 

“I’m gonna bathe myself, Lt. Trouble! Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

 She yells down. She waited to hear Monica’s response and when she didn’t she paused completely, silencing herself and the air around her, cartoons still playing. She could feel her heartbeat pick up its pace.

“Mon? Did you hear me?” 

She shouts again, a bit louder, trying not to let on to her anxiety.

“Okay Mom!”

 Monica yells back, mind focused on her shows. Carol exhaled deeply, relief flowing through her body. She chuckled at mom, gratitude buzzing through her whole body. She was still a mom to Monica and that meant more to her than she could ever explain. She added “go to therapy” on her mental to do list and started stripping.

Once all the layers were off, she chucked her socks in the pile she had made and stepped into the deep tub, pulling a purple shower cap over her hair and bending down to turn on the shower. She pulled the stop up before balancing out the water and heard the water make its way up the long pipe to the shower head slowly as she pulled the curtain closed around her. She immediately screeched, feeling freezing water run over her body. She had forgotten that Maria took cold showers in the morning to wake her up. She scrambled, trying to avoid as much of the frigid water as possible while she flipped up the hot water handle with her toes, jumping up and down, somehow not slipping. As the water began to warm and steam up, she found herself laughing. Out loud. She couldn’t stop. Captain Marvel was giggling like a child (Once again proving Maria right). She slid down and sat on her butt, pulling her knees into her chest and let the water run over her back. She eased into the warm feeling, still feeling laughter bubble up inside of her. She closed her eyes and remembered the last time she felt the shock of cold water all over her.

It was late, or maybe early. Carol felt herself getting tired, but she wanted to keep dancing. She wanted to keep singing. She wanted to keep seeing Maria, feeling her brush up against her while they danced and twirled in sloppy, drunken harmony, singing poorly to whatever song was playing. She didn’t want to go to work tomorrow just to test planes she would never get to fly outside of base. She didn’t want to sleep in her own bed, unless Maria was in it. She just wanted to keep living in this moment for as long as she could. She looked over at her equally drunk copart, dancing freely with her eyes closed. Maria rarely let loose like this, but when she did it was beautiful. She commanded the room, everyone tuning into her wavelength, feeling her all around them. She made everything beautiful, and when she was carefree, it was like no one on earth had a care in the world either. 

Maria opened her eyes to see Carol looking at her and she smiled that toothy grin she had, making the heat from Carol’s chest rise to her face. She smiled back, pushing herself closer to the woman through the people dancing around them. The dark liquor they had both been drinking was coursing through them and burning off with every move, sending sparks through both of their bodies while they watched each other bop to the music. Carol made her way over and laughed, making some comment about how only they could make old white men’s music sound this good. Maria giggled in agreeance, grabbing Carol’s hand and twirling her around. She was tired too, but she was happy to have a break. They had both been working their asses off and both felt the same frustration with the position they were seemingly stuck in. They were making their way up in rank, one then the other, every time. But two facts always remained. They were both Black Women. So the Air Force didn’t give them much reign, despite the fact that they were statistically and literally the two best pilots the Air Force had ever seen and a lot of people knew it. Despite all their talent and gusto, they did their diligence day in and day out. So, when they got the chance to be free from the monotony, they took it, hand in hand, happily. 

As Carol spun back into the woman’s arms with a heaving laugh, they both smiled at each other widely. Maria couldn’t look away, she felt stuck as her eyes moved down from her friend’s eyes to her lips. Carol surprised her by grabbing her other arm and spinning her just how she had done, and pulling her in with a dramatic dip. Everyone around them cheered, drunk too. They laughed with their bellies, feeling the song in their chests. Carol pulled Maria up slow, just as the exciting song ended. The next song started and it was slower, and most people around them coupled up, only some seeming annoyed as they made their way off the dance floor and back to the bar and stools. The two women looked around them, then at each other. They both shrugged with a small laugh, and Carol pulled Maria in to dance. She made some joke about being proper while she found her hands at Maria’s lower back, making the woman laugh as she made herself comfortable around Carol’s neck and shoulders. They laid their chins on eachother and swayed, letting the joke of it all dissipate into the air. It was moments like this that they relished in, secretly. Every now and then, they’d allow themselves a second to breathe each other in. Usually when they were drunk and their inhibitions were low. For both of them, it felt like everything melted away. Just like when they were younger and neither had been asked to the school dance, so they took each other. They shared one slow dance that night, making the excuse that it was tradition and neither should miss out on their first slow dance. They had wanted to dance together at prom, but they had both regrettably had dates for once. Maria had been asked by a boy from her science class, he played on the basketball team and told her she was pretty AND smart (wow, how romantic, Carol thought when she heard the story).

Carol hadn’t been asked but when she found out Maria said yes after being pressured by her father and not hearing Carol make a strong argument against it, Carol forced some kid from one of her classes to come with her. All four had danced that night, split into the ‘correct’ gendered pairs. Carol couldn’t keep her eyes off her bestfriend, and the feeling was mutual. During the final slow dance, they were all on the floor swaying in and out of rhythm with the song playing. Carol and Maria locked eyes and didn’t unlock them until the song was over. They had danced again during their first military ball, quietly in the back behind a pillar where no one could see them. It was unspoken but well understood. They didn’t talk about it after, they just went about their business. They always did. And they would again after tonight, carrying on like time didn’t stop when they touched like this. As the music played, Carol’s hand rubbed Maria’s back absent mindedly, while Maria rubbed small circles against Carol’s neck as they swayed, both in and out of daydreaming, both drunk and leaning a little too heavily on eachother. They both fought the urge to look up at each other, so they let their heavy heads rest on each other as they danced, feet in perfect timing with eachothers. This is what friends do, right? They were so comfortable with each other, it wasn’t weird to slow dance. Right? They almost stopped moving entirely, leaving just a small rocking between them as the music played through them, syncing their breaths. You feel so good, they both thought at the same time, almost forgetting that their freedom in this moment was due to the cognac surging through them.

When time started again and the song stopped, an upbeat one replacing it, they both lingered for a moment longer trying to hold onto the comfort they felt, and trying to collect their drunk selves. Over the sound of the music, the bartender announced last call and they looked at each other with a mischievous smirk. 

“Last one to the bar pays for the shots!” They said in unison, falling gracefully back into their routine. They ran over, both making it there at the same time, so as always they paid for each other’s shots and continued jamming to the music and letting the ambiance of the bar carry them through the rest of the night. Everyone knew everyone, so they felt safe, which was nice. As they finished their last two shots each, they both felt the drunkenness take its strong hold on them and they decided this would be their last song. They grabbed the karaoke mics that no one else wanted and belted at the top of their lungs, horribly but everyone loved it. They jumped up and down, bursting at the seams with laughter and lyrics, dancing with whoever danced with them. Once the song ended, they grabbed each other’s hands and ran for the coat rack, bounding forward despite their lack of balance. 

Pulling on their jackets, they stepped outside into the cooler air and took it in. Carol checked her watch and was astonished to see the time, despite the fact they everyone knew last call at Pancho’s meant it was 2am and the bar would be closing at 2:30. She looked over at Maria who was staring up at the sky.

“What’re you look-”

“Shh! Make a wish! Right now before you miss it!” 

Maria rushed Carol, keeping her eyes closed and her hands clasped together like she was praying, maybe even begging. Carol smiled, knowing the shooting star that must’ve passed was already gone, but she chose to believe the energy would linger for Maria and her. She closed her eyes and spent no time trying to figure out what to wish for. She knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. They both did. Carol kept her eyes closed after she was done, letting her body relax and fully feeling the disorientation of her drunkenness. She felt woozy, almost nauseous. Maria stared at her while her eyes were shut, allowing her body to relax at the sight. She felt her body move for her, without permission. She grabbed Carol’s hand, shocking the woman’s eyes open and started running without any explanation. 

“What are you doing Rambeau? Where are we going?” 

Carol asked, confused, dizzy and feeling a familiar spike of excitement rise in her. Maria was even more daring and much less prudent when she was intoxicated. She was taking her on an adventure and she was ready to go. She would follow the woman anywhere, drunk or not.

“You’ll see. Don’t you trust me, Danvers?” 

Maria called behind her, laughing and out of breath the whole time but never stopping. Carol didn’t need to answer, they both knew the answer. They kept up laughing, thankful for all the PT they’d been forced to do by the United States military. They ran down quiet streets for a few minutes, until they made it to a dirt path with a bunch of trees, leading them off the main road. Maria looked back at Carol with an excited and sly smile. Carol pulled her hand back and made her face her. 

“You’re not trying to serial killer me, right? Where are you taking me?” 

She laughed, but meant the question.

“C’monnn.” Maria tugged, wanting to live in the moment while she could. 

“Don’t you trust me?” 

She asked again, looking in Carol’s eyes with a glint, but soft. Penetrating, Carol thought to herself. She knew she couldn’t say no, she never could. So, she smiled and signaled for Maria to keep taking her wherever she was.

“Lead the way.”

This made Maria smile excitedly, adding an extra skip in her step. They weren’t running this time but they were walking fast, Maria jumping around Carol who felt like she was in a movie or a trance, eyes never leaving Maria’s dancing body as they made their way down the dark path, leaving her feet to trust whatever path Maria made for her. Maria saw a clearing in the trees ahead of them and she started running again, creating too much space for Carol’s comfort. She snapped out of her trance and ran after the faster woman, feeling anxiety and frustration rise in her for a moment. 

“What the hell, Rambeau? It’s dark out here! You can’t just run o-” Carol started while she wiped the sweat and dust off her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Maria standing at the edge of a lake surrounded by thick brown sand and trees. Maria waved her over and the frustration fled Carol’s body faster than it arrived. She jogged up to Maria who was already undressing, making Carol choke when she saw glimpses of Maria’s dark skin that she didn’t usually see. I mean, sure, they’d seen eachother in bathing suits and naked before, when they were kids, but it had been a while. A long while. Carol had to force her mouth shut before Maria could see it hanging open.

“Cmon, hurry up! We gotta jump in before my better judgement takes over!” 

Maria rushed as she pulled off her socks and yanked her pants the rest of the way down, pulling them over her ankles. Carol was still frozen watching her.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared Danvers? Cmon! It’ll help with the drunkenness and it’ll be a story to tell our kids!” 

Maria exclaimed, pulling her shirt over her head. All the was left was her bra and perfect light purple underwear. Carol snapped out of it and laughed.

“HA! What the hell are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re about to-”

“Skinny dip? Yes the hell I am. And so are you. Hurry up!”

Maria finished her sentence as she grabbed her hand, pulling her over and pulling the bandana off her head and tossing it with her own clothes she had made a pile of. She started pulling at Carols shirt sleeves until Carol brushed her away, laughing but really just unable to let Maria help undress her. She was suddenly feeling very shy but as always, Maria was going to get what she wanted from Carol because that’s what Carol wanted. Maria looked at her with that So, are you gonna do it or not? look that Carol was usually giving her and waited for Carol’s face to break into a smile she couldn’t help.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this with you. Don’t cry to me when you regret it tomorrow and have to blow your hair out in the morning!” 

Carol said as she pulled her shirt over her head and exposed her own body, one that Maria wasn’t sure how to fully take in either as she fought back a smile at Carol’s comment. She thought about the last time she’d seen Carol completely naked, or at least as naked as she almost was standing there. They used to get dressed in front of each other all the time and they’d been in matching bathing suits a bunch of times growing up but it had been a while, since they weren’t rooming together in the barracks. She forced her stare away while Carol undid her pants and slid out of them, leaving only her boy shorts, a bra and socks. She kicked her socks off to match as Maria finished pulling the rest of her underwear off, and by the time they both turned around, they were stark naked in the middle of nowhere, right in front of each other.

The silence sat for a moment before they both laughed, the tension easing away like it always did. Maria grabbed Carol’s hand and ran for the water, looking back only to ask You ready? as her feet made their way into the moist sand, inching towards the cold water. Carol shot back As I’ll ever be before making her way in too. They both plunged forward, swimming out a bit but not too far. They both shot under the water and looked at eachother, grabbing hands again before popping back up. The water rolled off of them as they broke through the surface, blinking it from their eyes and feeling their hair. They laughed loudly, finding their bearings in the freezing water.

“Holy shit!” Carol swore, bobbing a bit as she figured out how to float again. Still laughing.

“More like Holy FUUUCK!” Maria shouted out with a laugh in her voice, lifting it into the trees around them. She couldn’t stop laughing, and she couldn’t stop shivering. Carol looked at her as she held her free hand that she was using to balance herself with as she floated out to Maria who happily took it in hopes it would help stabilize her as well.

“You’re a god damn maverick, Rambeau!” Carol laughed as she spun Maria around, swimming in circles trying to keep her blood pumping to warm them both up. Maria swam gracefully, still holding onto Carol’s hand. She was laughing but she was also quieter now. Carol questioned if it was the cold or if it was whatever made her jump into a freezing lake anyway. She pulled her back in and held her hand tight as she pulled her onto her back, pressing her front to her back and taking deep breaths trying to stay warm while still enjoying the fluidity of movement the water provided. They both felt like they were flying, finally.

“What’s going on in your head?” Carol asked as she swam in different directions for a little bit, back and forth as Maria clung to her back, clearly the drunker of the two now. The shock of the water had helped to sober them both up but Carol always had a higher tolerance to alcohol as it was. She was still drunk but not as drunk as her bestfriend, whos head was resting on top of Carol’s wet curls. She knew the humidity and however she planned to get sleep that night wouldn’t help with her process in the morning.

“I just want to fly. I just wanna feel free, you know?” Maria started, not exactly slurring her words but they weren’t as uniform with her natural cadence as they usually were. Carol nodded slightly with a Mhm to assure Maria that she was listening.

“I just… I just wish we could do whatever we wanted to do. I’m so tired of living by the same rules every day. I wish I could just fly into space and stay there, sometimes, you know?” Carol smiled at the thought of Maria being able to fly how she was meant to. High up, above the clouds. Away from everyone and everything that constantly tried to tie her feet to the ground. She did know, she felt the same way about herself.

“You’d leave me here on earth to deal with these bastards?” Carol asked, joking but also not. Maria half laughed, half hiccuped at the thought.

“Wherever I am, you are too. That’s how it’s always going to be, Danver’s. I fly, you fly. You fly, I fly. That’s never gonna change.” Maria said, meaning it. She was always more emotionally open when she was drunk and Carol almost felt bad listening to her, knowing she wouldn’t normally open up like this - especially naked, freezing, clinging to her best friends back with all her might and drunk in a lake they had no business being in. But she couldn’t help but revel in what the woman was saying. She felt the same.

“I know. I know. Come on, lets go home.” Maria wanted to put up a fight but she was shivering and suddenly very sleepy, so she let Carol swim them to shore. When they got out the water, the warm air offered some support in their drunken attempts to pull on their clothing over wet and suddenly sand covered bodies. They weren’t sure if they were putting on the right things but they knew it was covering their important parts and that’s what matters. 

“Can we stay at look at the stars for a little bit?” Maria asked, even though she was the one in charge, whether she knew it or not. Carol knew it. She nodded, knowing it wasn’t a good idea but one she couldn’t deny the soft woman in front of her. She spread their jackets out on the beach for them to lay down and they both did just that, scotting their bodies close to each other instinctively. They peered up at the stars above them, seeing them clearly in the huge circle the trees made. It was perfect, they both thought. Some moments went by before Carol asked a question.

“What did you wish for earlier?”

“Shh. I can’t tell or it won't come true. It was something I’ve always wanted, so it has to come true.” She explained, sleep and bourbon clouding her voice.

“Mine too.” Carol whispered, her own eyes growing heavy. They held hands and both thought that the other woman must’ve wished for them to finally be able to do their jobs the right way, to be able to fly for real. Little did they both know they were wishing for the same thing. Each other.

They laid there, staring at the stars until they weren’t. Sleep came easy for them that night, as odd as it was. It got odder when they woke up, facing each other with only a nose length between their faces, feeling the warm sting of the sun in their eyes. They looked at eachother and started laughing until they heard the familiar sound of security keys dangling and a radio in the nearing distance. They knew it had to be the wannabe cops that patrolled the area and they knew it was their time to get the hell out of there. They ran back down the same path and back onto the main road until they made it to Pancho’s. They slowed to a casual pace after that, trying not to draw attention to themselves even though they had sand all over and their hair was nowhere near what it looked like the previous night. They walked, quietly, but happily together back to the barracks and passed out in Maria’s room. She wanted the comfort of her own space to ease through her impending hangover, but she needed the comfort of Carol’s arms too. Carol put up no fight, trying not to be too obvious that she wanted to be there too. Though she’d never tell, Maria positioned herself perfectly to be held and went right to sleep.

Carol stayed up until she fell asleep like she always did, making sure she was on her side in case she threw up or needed water. She watched as Maria slept, looking like she was floating again. She was so beautiful and Carol was so tired. She laid down and held the woman, her arms perfectly fitting into the space that was left, like it was made for her. They slept most of the day away and when Carol woke up, she set medicine next to Maria’s bed and snuck out, quieter than normal. She thought about what Maria had said when she was in the water as she walked back to her room to take care of her own hangover and messed up fro’. She promised herself that day that no matter where she flew, she would make sure Maria would be there too. Behind that promise, she knew that she would follow Maria to the end of the earth, even the end of the universe without a second thought. She tried to shake some self respect back into her own dreams, smiling despite herself and went to sleep. She dreamed of Maria, because Maria was her dream.

Carol’s day dreaming was interrupted by a cold surge through the shower head again, and the sound of the downstairs sink running before being cut off. Her super hearing alerted her to the sound of Monica filling a cup and going to sit back down. She buzzed under the cold water before it eased back into the warmth she had set for herself. She felt more fond of the cold now. She stood back up and washed her body, letting the water run over her face. The soap smelled like both Monica and Maria and she felt comfort knowing she would smell like them now, too. She finished up and got out, drying herself with her powers instead of making more laundry for herself with the towels she had been looking at the night before. She grabbed her clothes and located her underwear and bra from the pile. 

When she grabbed the pair of boxers, she looked at the inside hem and saw “DANVERS” written in smudged black sharpie on the white tag. She laughed with an edge of old frustration, remembering how she had to do that because people kept stealing her underwear in the laundry room as a prank because her and Maria had ranked up before a few of the other men in their unit. Maria’s clothes never got stolen, but they didn’t refrain from trying to get to her in other ways. None of which she ever humored, but Carol knew it got to her a few times. Some of the guys had called them ‘lesbos’ a few times, and eventually it evolved into the d slur. Both pilots always had different comebacks that consistently left the immature weasels with little to say back. Carol knew both of those words well having heard them most of her life, and she had taught herself not to internalize it.

Maria, on the other hand, let the first one roll off her for the most part - but the second one sometimes picked at scabs she had long covered up. Scabs she wasn’t ready to look at yet. They both decided not to report the harassment because it would probably end up worse if they did, and eventually it died down. They both continued to rise in ranks slowly but surely, and finally Mar-Vell came and they felt some reprieve from the monotony they were used to. Carol shivered at the thought of what came after that, though. 

She slid the rest of her clothes on and walked back into the bedroom. She put her dirty clothes in the laundry basket next to the closet for her to do later, and walked back over to the box of her things. She’d seen a bunch of stuff Monica had shown her the first time she came home, but she wanted to know what was in the other boxes Maria had kept. She went through the bottom of the box that had her clothes in it not finding anything she hadn’t already seen, and then pulled open the other one they had left out. She presumed this is one Maria hadn’t shown Monica as it had light dust on it when she opened it.

She sifted through, halfway hoping to find another pair of underwear, but instead she found a bunch of papers and trinkets. Some necklaces and a silver chain bracelet, wristbands from carnivals and bars they had been to together, a pair of dice from a board game they had stolen from a store one time when they were younger and had kept as they grew up. She ran her hands over everything, trying to take in as much of her former self as she could like she always did when she had the chance. She fumbled at the bottom of the box and pulled out a bunch of papers, some folded, some grocery lists with toiletries and snacks crossed off here and there, some half done crossword puzzles that Carol was never good at, and a few opened envelopes. She sat the rest down and looked over each envelope with care. 

Some had cards in them, birthday and christmas cards, one from valentines day. All of them had silly characters or jokes on the front. They had made a good habit of buying each other cheesy cards for every holiday they could think of, Carol strained to remember as she read through them. She rubbed her finger over Maria’s perfect signature, wondering if she kept the ones Carol had gotten her, too. She filed through the papers curiously, flipping through piece after piece of paper that held a small snapshot of moments in her life. Mundane, ordinary moments. She cherished them, and she was grateful to both Maria for keeping them and herself for never being organized and keeping all this stuff that most people would’ve eventually thrown away or allowed themselves to misplace over time. Her eyes fixed on a thicker envelope. She grabbed it, reading the red script labeled across the front.

To: Danvers

From: Rambeau ♡ 

Carol smiled at the little heart Maria had drawn next to her last name. She opened the letter, finding another heart on the back of the envelope where it was once sealed. Carol reads over the letter, feeling emotion and memory rise up in her chest, spreading through her whole body. The letter is dated, of course because Maria is ever punctual. It was from when they had been stationed at two separate bases for the first few months. It was agony for both of them, being in two separate states. Carol had sent Maria a letter when she first arrived, thinking she would be the first one to write. She was shocked, however, to find a letter waiting for her when she arrived at the post office on base. She had opened it the second she got back to her barracks room. It was an envelope inside an envelope, the outer one having had their full names and ranks and official military postage, the second one having the cute little hearts Maria drew perfectly when she wrote. Again, she was softer than most people expected her to be.

The letter expressed pretty much exactly what Carol had in hers, which came to no surprise to either of them when they both read what the other had sent. They were always on the same wavelength. They both had so much more they needed to say, but they were so grateful to hold something physical that the other had taken time to write for the other.  Maria asked how Carol was doing, explained what had been going on with her, and complained about the men on base per usual. Just as if they were together in person. 

As Carol read through it, she laughed, probably how she had the first time, at a lot of the letter. Towards the end though, she felt a tight ball of heat sitting in her chest restricting her breathing. She almost couldn’t read through what was left of the letter. Was she embarrassed? 

“Anyways, I hope you’re still kicking ass. I KNOW you are, that always came easy to you. 

I hope we can call soon, hopefully without being interrupted by the other idiots needing to use the phone every single time you do. I can’t believe there's only four on your base and only two that actually work (what happened to ‘The Air Force’s finest?’). You’d think with all the money the military has.. You know. I know it’s hard for both of us to find the time right now but I just really miss you, Carol. I miss shitty karaoke a lot, I can’t do it with these clowns here without you. Friday nights just aren’t the same haha. I miss renting the same movies every weekend and staying up all night eating too much. I even watched Fame the other day without you. I still hate it but it was nice, I just wish you were here to act out all the scenes. And I’ll deny it if you ever tell anybody, but I even miss your shitty cooking (burn this after reading), and not just because it makes it easier for me to be the better cook, but just because it’s you. I never used to hate writing letters but I do now, because it reminds me how far they have to travel to get to you. I hate that we’re not together, we’ve always been together. And as much as I act like I know what I’m doing, sometimes I feel lost without you here. And I know we’ve been pretending everything is the same but it isn’t, at least not for me. I wish we had more time to talk before you left. I wish we had more time in general. Damn the Air Force. Regardless, I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m so proud of you. I always am.

It’ll all be better soon. I believe that, just like you always do. We’ll be up in the air in no time. I’ll meet you up there. I’ll be the one whipping by you. Catch up if you can.

Take good care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it for you. 

You’re the best damn pilot in the Air Force (second only to me, of course), and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise! Call me when you get the chance. And hurry up and write back!

Always, 

Rambeau.

Ps. Things wont always be this way. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget that round of shots you owe me, either, goofball.”

Carol felt the heat of a blush running to her cheeks. She was thankful for her dark complexion hiding it, although no one was there to see her anyways. Why did she feel so giddy, and also… embarrassed? She felt like she was reading someone’s diary, even though the letter was clearly addressed to her and she had already read it. Years ago. She scanned over the text again, regarding Maria’s perfect handwriting. She felt like she was reading a love letter. Maybe it was, but she was too anxious to entertain the thought too much. She wasn’t exactly sure what that would mean, and she wasn’t sure if this year's old letter still even meant anything other than friendship.

Maria had been tight lipped about a lot of stuff, even though she pretended like she wasn’t. Her and Monica always answered Carol’s questions openly, happily for the most part unless it was about the ‘missing period’. They all tried to avoid that subject now, as time had gone by, but they all also knew that it would come up naturally sometimes and it couldn’t be left unanswered all the time. Aside from that, to the untrained eye, it seemed like Maria was willing to give up any bit of information that would help get them all back to how they used to be or at least help figure out what life looked like moving forward. But Carol knew better, she had a very well trained eye for Maria Rambeau, it was second nature for her - with or without the gaps in her memory. There had been a few moments,  just brief enough to almost miss, since Carol came back the first time with Fury and even more recently on some of her visits, when the unshakeable Maria had gotten flustered or nervous, where the heat currently in Carol’s cheeks had been in hers. When her heart threatened to beat so hard it would leap from her chest. Granted, she hid it well but again, Carol could always see through her. She seldom was at a loss for words or made quick, messy cover ups in conversation. Usually the people around them didn’t even notice. Monica didn’t even catch it, or at least didn’t acknowledge it. It happened once or twice when Carol and Maria were alone, too. Carol knew things like that only happened when Maria felt unsure, or when she really didn’t want to talk about something. Anyone who had ever met Maria knew she was as straightforward as they come, so that’s what made Carol pay extra attention when she was avoiding something. 

The thoughts of romance danced around Carol’s brain tauntingly, aching for her to pull them forward and examine them. But knowing how Maria was, and knowing that she only got that way when she was purposefully avoiding something, Carol settled on a quiet feeling of rejection instead - against her better judgment. She let it swell through her, enflaming the previous feelings of embarrassment right along with it. She put the letter away, resigning that she should just be thankful to have a friend who cares for her so much and that she wouldn’t allow herself to think anything else. She did this often, rejected herself before other people could to avoid the stinging feeling of embarrassment or disappointment her parents and the people she grew up with often supplied her with.

Maria never made her feel that way, and maybe that's why she would accept this quiet, self imposed feeling now instead of facing it in person with the other woman. She couldn’t risk ruining something she had just gotten back, anyways. Right? Right, she forced herself to agree in her head. She decided to go find Monica and clear her head of the letter. As she walked out, she glanced at the picture of Maria and the child again and sighed softly, letting a small smile of gratitude cover her face. This could be enough for her, if she would let it be.

Monia was sitting on the couch still, no longer paying any mind to the tv playing in the background. She was eagerly reading through the huge phone book they usually had sitting on the coffee table, bracing it against her bended knees as she flipped through the yellow pages quickly. 

“What’re you looking for, Lt. Trouble?”

“Someone who sells the parts I need for my next invention! What letter do you think that would be under?”

Carol laughs, deciding to humor the girl.

“Hmm, you know I’m not sure. Have you tried under sales? Or maybe…a junkyard?”

“I could try the junkyard! I didn’t try that yet!”

“Maybe I can get you a hook up from Fury, orrrr maybe your mom knows someone at her job? What’re you even looking for?”

“I already asked her last week! She said she would check but I think she was just saying that. Here’s my list.”

Monica handed Carol a surprisingly long list, with a few things checked off that Carol assumed were already laying around the house. She wondered if Maria knew that these things had been checked off, which gave her a good chuckle. She set the list down and turned to Monica.

“Okay, I think I can get you some of these but the bigger things are definitely gonna need some work. Maybe we can roll down to the junkyard this week?”

“YES! And no take-backsies!”

“Wouldn’t dare. How about you come help me handle the laundry and dishes and then we can head outside?”

“Deal. I think you might need help figuring out the detergent set up Ma’ has anyways. She’s very particular.” 

Monica explains, leaping up into action and grabbing Carol’s hand to pull her along.

Monica was right, Maria had a very elaborate and strict laundry system. The two of them likely didn’t get it exactly right but they did their best to pay attention to details neither of them really cared about but knew Maria did, wanting not only to please and respect Maria, but also wanting to avoid what she would have to say about it if they got it wrong or chose to ignore it. Carol tried to use her powered speed and agility to help make the process move quicker, but it only hindered the experience. She noted that the chance to move slowly and be mindful was probably why Maria seemed to enjoy the routine of laundry and such. It probably helped calm her down and help her be present after long days working to protect the whole world, while still having to be a full time mom to a rather rambunctious child, on top of whatever anxiety Carol added throughout her week. She smiled and decided to try and match the attentiveness. Her and Monica spent a while switching between loading and unloading, doing the dishes left over from dinner last night and breakfast - eventually returning to sort and fold the clean clothes and linens. It smelled lovely in the laundry room, reminding both of them of Maria. It comforted them in a way only she could. 

Once they finished with the inside chores, they decided to mix and match to-do lists. Monica needed to catch some frogs just as much as Carol needed to mow the lawn, she insisted. Carol agreed to help her catch some frogs if she would agree to help her patch up some of the paint that Maria had been avoiding doing. They shook on it, running off into the field that would be mowed down later in the day. They went at it excitedly, jumping around in the tall grass and dirt, painting not so gracefully and splattering white paint on each other by “accident”.

By the time they finished the side of the house and Monica had caught, released and named at least eight frogs that she swore were all different despite being nearly identical, they had both created more laundry to do and were both definitely in need of a bath but neither minded in the slightest. Even once they were done, they chased each other around tirelessly until Monica was hiccupping and giggling at the same time. Carol marveled at Monica’s intrinsic wonder and love at the world around her. In her Hero heart, watching it solidified her sense of duty to protect the galaxy, making sure nothing and no one could ever bring harm to the world her daughter so loved. But in her Carol heart, it made her giddy too. Almost envious in a way. She missed the days when she could roll around in a yard and only worry about trying not to crush too many bugs. Now she had to worry about whether someone was going to crush a planet or not. She often longed for a childhood she never really had, and sometimes even the one she did have when she could piece it together. She knew it wasn’t a good one, but she had Maria. She just had Maria. And now Monica does too, and god was she glad about it. 

Carol picked the younger girl up and flew her to the front porch in a flash, something Maria would swear she didn’t approve of as she fought back her own giggles. Monica shouted with pure glee as her feet landed back on the wood she knew well. They zipped in the house and ran to the kitchen, ready for lunch. Monica decided she would handle making it, promising Carol the best turkey and cheese sandwich she would ever have. Or at least better than she could make herself.

“Mayo or mustard Mama?”

Carol beamed a grin across her face, feeling a familiar hot blush swipe across her at the word mama but she tried to play it cool.

“I want whatever you’re having, Trouble!”

Carol responded happily, only after registering the fact that she hated mustard and hoped that Monica did too. She watched as the girl ran through the kitchen, leaving a small mess across different surfaces. She whipped up the two sandwiches like she did it very often, and sat two plates down in front of Carol with a big toothy smile. 

“Wa-La! The Trouble special!” 

She exclaimed, nudging the sandwich to Carol and taking a big bite out of her own, leaving a smudge of mayo on the inner side of her finger. Thank god, Carol laughed to herself. Before she could remind the girl to make sure she cleaned up, Monica was already stacking up her ingredients and propping open the fridge with her foot. This made the woman smile, knowing she had probably heard one too many times from Maria about cleaning up after herself. 

“Take a bite!” Monica mumbled, chewing down another bite herself and gesturing to Carol with her hands. Carol bit into the sandwich and began mimicking the fancy chefs they would watch on tv together.

“Mmm! Magnificent work yet again, Chef Rambeau!”

Monica smiled before straightening her face and standing up straight before taking a bow, nearly dropping her own sandwich. They both laughed and enjoyed their sandwiches, Carol deciding to sneak Monica a coke in thanks for making the best sandwich she’d ever had, saying "this ones on me” and promising to tell Maria she drank them if she asks. Once they both finished and decided that Monica won the burping contest, they decided to tackle the lawn and climb the tree. Monica ran back outside like she had all the energy in the world, and Carol followed behind at a much slower pace as if she didn’t literally have all the energy in the world.

They took turns pushing the mower up and down the huge yard in different directions, trying to make different drawings with the pattern it created. Carol figured Maria wouldn’t mind much. Once they finished, both sweating under the direct heat of the sun, they were both happy to have some reprieve when they made their way over to the trees. Carol laid down in the grass underneath the biggest tree, grateful for the shade it provided.

She breathed deep, taking in the soft wind that was blowing. It wasn’t as humid as she had expected, another thing she was grateful for. Monica plopped herself next to her, pulling up her tee shirt sleeves to match Carol’s rolled up sleeves. She poked at the tan line appearing where the shirt sat for most of the day. Carol pointed to her own, kind of happy to have a tan to her brown skin again. She spent a lot of time in her suit, so it always felt nice to have regular clothes on. She thought about how the sun on earth felt so different than on other planets, who all had different sources of heat and light. She looked over at Monica, who was now laying down too, watching a lady bug crawl through her hands. She was brighter than the sun, Carol thought, before she pushed her sunglasses up her forehead to tangle in her fro’ again.

“So, you’re gonna conquer the big one today, huh?”

“Absolutely. Mom always gets nervous so she told me to wait until you came home again. The whole super power thing and stuff.”

Monica rolled her eyes and continued looking at the lady bug with curiosity.

“Well, she kinda has a point kiddo. Let’s do it.”

Monica jumped to her feet, pausing only to gently place the lady back in the grass and hopped over to the foot of the tree. She walked around it, looking for the perfect place to start. She found her footing and called Carol over to spot her from behind.

“Alright, pay attention and be careful. Let me know if you get stuck, okay?”

“Gotcha gotcha. If I get stuck, will you fly up to me?” 

Monica asked while climbing up the first couple inches, hoisting herself up to find a sturdy hand hold between two branches and bracing her legs against either side. 

“We’ll see.”

Carol watched intently, squinting her eyes against the sun and smiling with her teeth, hands ready to catch Monica. The girl climbed up a few feet and held on tight.

“So, this is how far I got last time with Mom. I just have to streeetchhhhh over to the next branch.”

“You got this, just pretend your arms are made of elastic and reach.”

Monica tried a few times to stretch over with no success, before deciding to just leap as far as she could to connect her hands. Carol’s heart nearly jumped out her chest, not even realizing her own feet had ended up off the ground, floating next to the girl who had successfully made the jump. She smiled at her mom, ignoring the small scratches on her forearms that were starting to bleed just a little bit.

“Jesu- Good job, Trouble! Just maybe tell me next time?”

“We’ll see.”

Monica shot back with that same toothy grin her mother has. She made her way up the rest of the tree and sat on the highest branch she felt comfortable with, kicking her feet with pride. Carol decided to climb the tree next, doing it with ease to meet Monica on the branch. She sat on the one next to it, as to not add too much weight. 

“Why didn’t you just fly or float or something?” 

“That would be cheating! Plus, I wanna be as cool as you are. I wish I had a camera so we could show your mom!”

“I’ll just have to do it again!”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

Carol laughed, squeezing Monica’s cheek just a bit before letting her climb on her shoulders to fly back down and head to the house to clean up. 

After washing up, they decided to play some video games for a bit until it was time to start setting up for dinner. They had about two hours until Maria got home and they both wanted to at least be started on food when she arrived. Monica pulled out all her favorites and told Carol to pick which one to play first. They took turns picking after the first few rounds of operation, shutes and ladders, and jenga - all of which Monica won.

Carol insisted on playing something she had a fighting chance at, so they grabbed the deck of cards from the coffee table and played Go Fish. Carol won the first round, but Monica won the last three. Finally, admitting full defeat, Carol asked if they had anymore games. Monica grabbed two more from where they kept them, splaying them on the table. Carol’s eyes caught something familiar, pulling it to herself without a thought. She stared at the worn box and tried to remember. Monica watched, offering an explanation just as Carol was finding one of her own.

“Mom says she always used to beat you at this. She wouldn’t play it with me for a while but one day she brought it out after dinner and taught me. She beat me too the first two times, but I beat her after that. You wanna play?”

Carol wasn’t sure if she was biting back a smile, a laugh, or tears. She nodded and let Monica set the board up. Monica read the instructions out loud just in case Carol didn’t remember it, which Carol wasn’t sure if she did. She decided to just play and see what sticks. Monica handed her the light blue piece without asking, and Carol saw that it had her initials written on it. She watched as Monica sorted through the colors, passing over the purple one that had M.R written on it. She felt a tug in her heart as she watched Monica choose the red one that had a small, barely legible M.R on it too. She watched as Monica pulled out cards and then a set of white and black dice. Carol stood up abruptly, leaving Monica no time to question it.

“Hang on, there’s two pieces missing. I’ll go grab them.”

Carol ran upstairs almost embarrassingly fast and b-lined for the box she had looked through earlier. She grabbed the two colorful die she had left there earlier and headed back downstairs, feeling a mixture of excitement and belonging, along with a deeper, quieter sense of yearning. 

Her and Monica played several rounds, Monica winning the first one until Carol remembered all her strategies from all the times she had beat Maria’s ass at the game. Carol agreed to another game, rolling the dice first since she lost the last round. She rolled doubles, and took her turn. While Monica was doing her lucky roll ritual of blowing on the dice and kissing her small hands, Carol felt herself slipping into a memory she had long displaced. She let herself remember slowly, recalling the reason the dice had even been separated from the game board in the first place. 

“You take the board, I’ll take the dice. That way, we both have a piece, neither of us can play, and then no one else gets the chance to whoop your ass. That’s reserved for my talents.”

Carol laughed, but she was being serious. She was desperate to hold onto anything that could be just for them. Something she could carry in her pocket shamelessly, that no one would understand if they saw. They might think she had a gambling addiction or something, no one would suspect she was trying to hold onto any remnants she could of the woman she loved in her everyday life. She watched as Maria chuckled, probably formulating a sarcastic comeback, Carol assumed with a smirk. Maria never just accepted defeat, that's why they had played the game so many times. 

“Sounds good to me, Danvers. I wouldn’t let anybody else win, anyway.” 

Maria quipped back, knowing she never actually let the other woman win but she couldn’t resist making her think about the possibility. She, too, was happy to keep as many tangible reminders of what they had with her. They both had been fighting with themselves for their friendship to be enough, that having that ripped away from them sent them both reeling. She rubbed her finger over the ripped up pricing sticker on the back of the box waiting for Carol to respond.

“Yeah, OKAY. Like hell you let me win. No one loses that many times, THAT bad and is just letting-”

Maria wrapped her arms around the other woman, letting the box and a few pieces fall out on her bed. She held on tight and fought against sniffling. She wouldn’t let herself let it go. Let her go. She felt Carol choke on the words she didn’t get to finish and relax her body into the embrace. It was almost too relaxed. Neither wanted to admit they were fighting back tears that might never stop flowing if they let them start.

Carol didn’t mind being cut off, she was just finding words to string together anyway. There really wasn’t time for small talk but what else were they supposed to do? Leave it up to Maria to figure it out. To do the thing no one else would. To make the move everyone was afraid to - the one Carol was afraid too. Most people thought Carol was the fearless one just based off her usual demeanor and what people saw her do. Little did they know that she had never been more terrified than in this moment. Not knowing when they’d be able to play the game again. Not knowing when they would be able to touch like this again. Not knowing anything other than that they were afraid and loved each other so deeply.

They sat like that for longer than they both figured they should’ve, but neither felt any regret or shame in the moments as they piled up. They both ignored the awkward angle they were in, they both ignored the sounds outside the barracks room, they both ignored the clock as it ticked cruelly forward. They sank into each other, both laying their chins on the other's shoulder, letting the sides of their faces touch. It was close enough to look over and kiss. Neither dared to let the thought get too loud, choosing to let the contact be enough. It always had to be just enough, between them.

They didn’t say much after that, just small hums and sniffles here and there as they rocked slowly trying to find any sort of comfort they could. They laid down after a while, and before Maria could protest through her tears, Carol promised she would get up early enough to make it back to her room before the bus left the base. They laid there, quietly fighting sleep, wrapped as close together as they could be. Maria kept her face down and her forehead on Carol’s chest, Carol kept her arm under Maria’s neck and pulled her as close as she could with the other. Eventually she reached for Maria’s hand, this time it was her turn to do the thing that they both needed someone to do. Maria eventually cried herself to sleep, and Carol stayed up just rocking her softly until the sun came up. 

When she stood up to leave, grabbing her bags and smoothing a hand over her braid, Maria turned over to take her in. She tried to glare at her, but it softened itself against her will into a sad smile. 

“Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye, Danvers.” 

They both felt a warm tear or two tear itself across their cheeks. Carol tried her best to match the smile Maria was bravely offering her but it came off even weaker. She walked over and kissed the woman on the forehead before turning to leave, afraid that if she stayed even a minute longer she would never leave. Thoughts of going AWOL floated through her head for the billionth time since she had gotten her orders four days ago. She fought them off with as much strength as she could muster and took another step into the door frame.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She felt the glare of a rising sun sear into her eyes and she stepped through the threshold, choosing not to look back at the woman on the bed she had just left. Maria wondered if she would’ve looked back either, as she let herself curl into herself and let out the sobs she was fighting back before. She silenced them as best as she could and stayed that way until she had to get up, leaving her no choice but to pull herself together into something that resembled the woman she was just a few days before. 

Carol stood outside the door, trying hard not to listen for Maria for a moment before forcing her feet forward. Step after step, more tears fell from her as she grit her teeth to fight back the screams sitting in her chest. She, too, had to be put together in the next few minutes and it seemed the most impossible task. It almost was.

“Ma’? It’s your turn.”

Carol shook her head, only then registering the wetness in her eyes. She picked up the dice and rolled them, trying to refocus on the game infront of her. She shouted when she rolled doubles again, meaning she got to go twice now.

“Looks like I still got it, afterall!”

“Yeah.. sure. Let’s ignore that I beat you all the other times.” 

Monica laughed out, observing the change in her mother.

“I was just letting you win!”

Carol laughed, mostly to herself, as she moved the blue piece across the board.

“That’s what mom always says. I don’t believe her and I definitely don’t believe you!”

Monica shot back playfully. This made them both laugh, knowing it was true. Some things don’t change.

They kept playing a few turns until Monica finally decided to ask the question she had been formulating the whole game so far.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just now, after you took your first turn. It seemed like you weren’t really here for a little bit.” 

Monica, just like her mother, ever to the point. Carol hesitated before choosing to just answer truthfully.

“Sometimes, when I’m home with you guys or even when I’m out there in space.. If I touch something, or smell something or someone says a certain somethin’... I remember stuff. Sometimes its just a quick second in my mind, sometimes its like flashbacks. I have a lot of rememberin’ to do, so sometimes I get stuck trying to see it clearly.”

Monica stared at the woman in front of her with understanding eyes. She waited a moment before responding.

“That makes sense, you know. I heard on TV that amnesia can make it take a while to get all your memories back.”

Carol shifted in her seat at the word amnesia, because it was so medical. She never actually did get checked out by a doctor on earth, trying to avoid a conversation about why she was super charged 24/7. She didn’t want to draw attention to her family but she had heard the word being tossed around by Fury and Maria a few times. She nodded at Monica, motioning for the girl to take her turn as they talked. Monica continued.

“Ya’know… I like when you remember stuff. Sometimes I get sad thinking you don’t know all the stuff I do. But then I just remember that it's still in there somewhere. There’s a lot of good stuff waiting for you.”

The girl smiled reassuringly, finishing her turn and deciding to pat Carol’s hand softly just like her mom does to her when she’s upset by something.

“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“Of course I know that. I’m actually a genius, but that’s all just semantics.”

“You got me there, kiddo.”

Carol said while rolling the dice again and moving her pieces. She might actually win this round.

“If you ever have any questions about stuff, you can just ask me. Mommy doesn’t always tell you or me everything, but I remember. Sometimes I think I know more than both of you combined.” 

Monica smirked, looking over the board calculating precisely how to take Carol out now that she had her where she wanted her. She took her turn calmly, trying not to alert Carol to her master plan. Carol watched mindlessly as the girls piece glided across the board. Maybe she wouldn’t win this round, actually.

“That would be nice, Mon. Thanks. You can ask me stuff too. Also, just spare me and take me out now!”

Carol smirked back, knowing she would have to roll doubles again to beat the red piece.

“It’s no fun if you just give up!”

Carol decided to do Monica’s good luck trick this time, blowing on each die separately and then kissing her hands when she brought them together. She tossed them on the board aimlessly, trying not to focus on the numbers so she didn’t jinx it. They both watched as both die rolled a 3.

“No way!”

“Haha! Maybe your lucky trick does work!” 

Carol laughed as she moved her piece past Monica’s and into the goal. Finally, a win. She stood up and did a goofy dance around the table like Monica had done before her when she was winning. They both started the giggles again, deciding it was probably time to start cleaning up and getting everything ready for dinner.

As they sorted through the cabinets together, Monica standing on the counter despite what her mother would say, Monica began telling Carol stories to see if she could help jog her memory since Carol hadn’t asked any questions yet. She ran through her baby years, her toddler years - especially her ‘troublesome two’s’ as Maria calls them, and everything up until when Carol went missing. They both chose not to talk about why there was such a gap in time. Carol listened quietly, laughing here and there when the story almost always resulted in some hilarious mishap on Carol and Monica’s part. Monica felt successful as she could see her mom piecing things together while they attempted to boil noodles and mix together pasta sauce on the stove. They both tried to keep it from getting messy, not wanting to add any stress to Maria’s plate when she got home. 

Monica told as many stories as she could while Carol took them in happily, filing some away to focus on later when she could fully process them. They were all happy moments, usually funny. It was nice to know that life was good before the accident. Finally, when they started grating the cheese together, Monica decided she would ask some questions now since she had told so many stories. She had a lot she wanted to know too. 

“Here, you do this one and I’ll do this one. Just be careful with the grater, it can get tricky towards the end.” 

Carol motioned to Monica as she walked over to the table with a bowl to put the cheese in when they were done. Carol picked up some cheese and got to work, being mindful herself. Just because cuts healed up quickly for her didn’t mean they didn’t sting when she got them. She knew this well, especially being in a kitchen. Monica started grating too, trying to perfectly time her question. She had been through the boxes upstairs too, always making sure to leave them how she found them so she didn’t tip her mother off. She never understood why she kept them private from her like she didn’t already know about most of the stuff in there. 

“So, why don’t you and mom kiss anymore?”

Carol’s hand skidded to a stop, a choke coming up her throat that ended in a cough she could barely get out. She stood there stunned for a moment, unsure if she had heard the girl correctly. She didn’t notice the small cut on the side of her finger from the edge of the grater yet.

“W-what?”

“Why don’t you and mommy kiss anymore? I don’t know why she keeps all that stuff in the boxes upstairs a secret like I didn’t always see you guys. It was normal when you guys acted normal, now it’s weird seeing you two act different. Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

Carol was still too stunned to speak, standing over the more than half grated cheese that was now no good to use since her finger was bleeding a bit more. Monica looked up at her and noticed the blood, then stared at her with those same curious eyes, only now a touch of concern in them. Carol could feel the stare so she forced herself to shake her head again, clearing her throat in the process.

“I, um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about I don’t think.”

“Right. Here, your blood is ruining the cheese.”

Monica handed her a towel. Carol looked down and finally noticed all the blood. It wasn’t a crazy amount but definitely enough to have ruined the cheese. She wrapped the towel around it and walked to the sink, rinsing it off with cool water while she felt like she was in a daze. She started thinking about the letter Maria had sent her again. She read through the words in her head again, over and over while the water stung her finger. She could hear Monica in the back cleaning up her mess and she felt bad. She felt bad for ruining a part of dinner per usual, but also for reacting this way. And for not actually having an answer. She couldn’t have been sure before this but now she could.

Maybe? Maybe Monica meant cheek kissing or forehead kisses. Maybe her child mind was more innocent than Carol’s confused one. She turned the water off and looked in the junk drawer for some bandaids. She pulled out a pink barbie one and wrapped it tight over her new cut. It would probably be gone in a few hours but she wanted the security of the bandaid in the moment. For some reason, she felt shaken up again. Her face felt hot and her chest felt tight. She turned back to Monica who was finishing up her grating now, adding it into the bowl. As Carol walked back over to grab it to put with the rest of the food, she was searching for something to say in response that actually made sense. Before she could get anything out, Monica chimed in again.

“I’m sorry I asked, I wasn’t sure if it would make you feel funny. But please don’t tell mom I was snooping. I just wanted to see as much of you as I could. But she’ll be upset with me if you tell, I think.”

“Don’t worry about it, Trouble. Secrets safe with me.” 

Carol said, smiling weakly at the girl. Monica did feel bad, but she also kind of knew this would be the reaction Carol would have. It only confirmed one of her theories, that Carol didn’t remember that her and Maria were in a relationship. She was almost tempted to say something else when they both heard the sound of Maria’s car pull in the long drive way. They looked at each other and nodded quickly. Monica started cleaning off the table while Carol started making plates. Finally, something her super speed could help with. She made all three plates and set them on the table right as Maria opened the front door. Monica ran over to her, hugging her tightly as she hung her bag on the rack near the door. She hugged back, running her hand softly over the girls forehead with a smile. 

“Smells good in here. Did Monica cook?” Maria laughed, kicking off her work shoes and slipping on the sandals she wore around the house. 

“Haha, very funny!”

Carol shouted from the kitchen where she was borderline having a panic attack, trying to figure out how to act normal enough to get through the rest of the night with Monica’s question looming over her head.

“Nope, I only helped! Mama Carol did most of the work. I made lunch though. Mom said it was the best sandwich she’d ever had anywhere in all the galaxies!”

Monica exclaimed, only half telling the truth, as she nearly dragged Maria to the kitchen table. 

“I said something like that, yes.”

Carol laughed, her mouth forming into a smile when her eyes met Maria’s.

Maria smiled back before quickly looking around the kitchen, half expecting to see a new scorch mark somewhere. 

“It looks… the same as I left it, in here, minus a few dirty dishes. I’m impressed, Danvers.” 

Maria smirked, walking to the sink to wash her hands before sitting down and letting Monica get in her lap. She was certainly growing, she barely fit between the table and Maria anymore but she always made it work. 

“How was your day?”

Monica asked her mother, once again kicking her feet excitedly, being back in the presence of Maria. It meant a lot to Maria that she still got excited to see her. She hoped it would last through puberty.

“Ya’know, same ol’ same ol’. Protecting the world from aliens, which oddly enough usually is just a bunch of paperwork no one else reads or signs. So, pretty successful I guess.”

Maria laughed, pulling Monica’s cheek in for a small peck.

“I’m more interested in how YA’LL’S day went. The lawn looks… great, by the way.”

Before Carol could chime in, which she wasn’t going to being that she was staring at Maria’s toned arms the entire time she’d been in the room, Monia answered for them both.

“It was AWESOME! We caught so many frogs, I named one after you, and then I finally climbed up the whole tree!”

Maria chuckled, noting the small scrapes on her daughter but not worrying. It wasn’t a normal day if Monica didn’t get at least one scrape or bruise from her exploring.

“Well, I’m flattered. Did you get any help from a certain superhero, by any chance?”

“Nope, she did it all on her own. Much faster than I did, too.”

Carol answered while shooting her hands up like finger guns, shooting a wink to Monica who delighted at the remark.

Maria looked at the pink Barbie bandaid on the woman’s finger and half laughed half frowned.

“Seems like no one made it out without a few cuts today, huh?”

Carol looked down at her hand, almost embarrassed. She laughed.

“She got that from grating cheese, not climbing the tree!”

Monica answered, once again saving Carol from trying to find words. 

“Why am I not surprised? Well anyways, thank you both for doing such a good job with the chores today. Looks like you both really earned that extra tv time tonight.” 

Maria winked at them both before letting Monica scoot off her leg and back into her own chair, ready to eat.

“Thank god, I’m so hungry. I forgot to pack lunch last night so all I had today was a bunch of coffee and some nasty as- mm, some gross altoids my secretary had.”

“Sheesh. I hope it actually tastes like food this time then! Oop, I forgot the forks.” Carol said, about to get up and grab them. Monica beat her to it and ran over to the counter, leaving the two women with a moment or two to take each other in. They both held back a sigh, and just smiled at each other. The eye contact felt too much for both of them, for the same and different reasons. 

Monica returned and they broke their shared gaze, both feeling a mixture of missing it and thankful that it was over. Monica handed everyone a fork she had picked specifically for them and they all ate, swapping stories of their days back and forth. Maria laughed feeling relieved hearing how well the day went, she was hoping she would still have a house to come back between Monica and Carol. As they were all finishing their meals, Maria noticed the stack of games left out on the coffee table. 

“Make sure you put those up, Mon’.” She said softly, taking a sip of some iced tea. 

“I will. Also, guess who won the most games tonight? Guess, guess!”

Carol shook her head with a laugh.

“Hmm, if I was gonna take a wild guess… You?!” 

Maria smiled widely, pointing at her daughter playfully.

“You betcha’! I whooped Mama Carol’s butt like eighty billion times at all the games. Even the one you taught me that she was supposed to be super good at, even with the new fancy dice! She only won that one three times, and the last one was just pure luck cause’ I almost had it!” 

Carol and Monica laughed together, and suddenly Maria’s eyes unfocused. The laughter in the background melted into one sound, and everything else started to go quiet. She thought about the dice. The colors on the dots. Where she had left them sitting, in the box, in her room. She thought about why they were in Carol’s belongings and not her own. Then she thought about everything else that was in the box with them. She only came to when Monica and Carol’s laughing slowed down, reminding her that it would seem weird if she didn’t respond in the next second or two.

“Well, it looks like the mighty do fall sometimes. I used to let her win that game every time we played it.” 

Maria half heartedly laughed with a smirk, almost instantly regretting bringing up the past. Carol looked down at her almost empty plate for a moment before fixing her own face to shoot back something well timed and sarcastic enough to play off the shudder that sentence sent through her spine.

“Hmm, crazy cause when it comes to everyone else in the world, meaning you, I’m still the world champion. Monica just had that lucky dice trick.” 

Before Maria could even laugh, Monica jumped in.

“Hey! It’s not just the lucky dice, I just also happen to be the smartest person in the whole wide stinkin’ world too!”

“You make a good point.”

Carol and Maria said in unison, both with an adoring laugh. All three looked at each other and broke out laughing, feeling thankful for the lack of awkwardness that probably would’ve left in the air if it wasn’t so funny.

After that, everyone finished and avoided the different subjects on everyone’s minds happily. Carol cleaned up the plates, grazing by Maria’s arm while she walked to the sink. Monica pulled Maria over to the couch with her while Carol washed the dishes, quickly putting away all the games they had left out and positioning herself on the couch while Maria flipped through the channels for her. She had sat right in the middle, leaving just enough space for either woman on both sides of her. She really did live up to that nickname sometimes, both mother’s thought. When Carol made her way over, they were just settling on a show to watch. 

“Remember, you get 10 extra minutes.”

“Does that have to count commercials? Can we pause the timer when they come on? Pleeeeeaasssshhhhh.”

Monica pretended to beg to both women who laughed. 

“We’ll see what we can do. Time starts now, though.”

Maria answered her. Monica turned towards the tv and leaned back, wanting to take in every minute she had. She normally would get about an episode and a half in during her nighttime tv, maybe two if her mom dozed off in between. She was sure she was going to get at least two this time, since Maria looked sleepy. She didn’t account for Carol’s super powers making her have a longer stamina, but she figured she wouldn’t snitch. She looked up at her as they watched and she shot her down a wink in return, solidifying their silent agreement. As long as it was still summertime, Carol didn’t have an issue with it. Of course, she wouldn’t go against Maria, though, unless of course she fell asleep. Which she usually did. 

The three sat through an episode, choosing not to count the commercials in their internal timers, and started the second one. A few minutes in, Monica had positioned herself with her head and back on Carol’s lap, with her legs and feet on Maria’s. She watched the show quietly, not noticing herself dozing off. Once the second episode was over, she was fast asleep, nearly drooling on Carol. Both women laughed quietly at the sight. Maria reaches for the remote to turn off the tv while Carol effortlessly lifts Monica up and begins to walk her to her room. As she walks away, Maria fights the idea of Carol lifting her that way and carrying her to bed. She shakes her head and stands up to go to the fridge.

When Carol makes her way back downstairs after carefully tucking the young girl in, she’s greeted with Maria passing her a beer and a bottle opener. 

“Not sure if you still need to use these, but c’mon.”

Carol doesn’t need it but she chooses to use it anyway. She follows Maria without question through the front door and onto the porch. The sun is down now and it’s not quite as warm as it was the night before. 

“God, I’ve been waiting for this all day.” 

Maria says, taking a long swig from the cold bottle. She sits down on the steps and leans back on her elbows, beer still laced between her fingers. She looks like she’s relaxing but Carol wonders if she is. She stands against one of the posts for a moment, opening her beer, before sitting down next to the woman but not too close. She hopes she’s the only one who can feel the tension in the air. It’s different than last time she was home.

“Long day, I take it?”

“Always.” 

Maria sighs with a short laugh, taking another sip. 

“But that’s the job. I’m sure you get it.”

Maria finishes, not sure if what she said sounded shady or not. It wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe it was, but it wasn’t coming from the part of her she was trying to show up as it. It was coming from the part she was burying inside of her.

“I do, but I also don’t. You have a lot to handle all the time. I’m happy I… can help, I guess.”

Carol wasn’t sure if that last part was a question or not. They both almost flinched at the word help. Carol was more than just a friend who liked to help. She was a parent and neither wanted her to take that away from herself just because of how long she had been away. Both decided not to say anything in the moment, though. They both just sipped their beers and looked out in front of them, gazing up and out at the world around them. Somehow, it felt bigger now that they were both on it together.

Maria thought about the box again, trying to keep it from her mind to no avail. She also thought about Carol’s skin grazing against hers in the kitchen earlier. She wondered if their contact would be minimal. Despite the late night and early morning they had shared, they hadn’t really touched or even been this close since. The first night never counted, that was their unspoken rule since the second time Carol had been home.

She was exhausted when she arrived, fighting to stay awake long enough to talk to both Rambeaus’ even though she wanted to so badly. It had been a particularly grueling mission and she had flown directly back to Earth after the conflict was over, not taking a break. So, when Maria offered to watch some TV with her on the couch, she sank quickly into the cushions. Before they knew it, they had woken up to the sun coming through the living room windows, curled into each other. Neither thought it was weird then, so why was it weird now? 

Carol thought about the box too, rereading the words from the letter in her mind again. Thinking about the pictures on Maria’s desk. Then she thought about the dream she had, with everyone sitting on the porch. She was so deep into replaying it that she almost jumped when a frog hopped by, startling both women from their respective day dreams.

“I think that’s the one Monica named after you.”

Carol laughed, remembering the day she had fondly.

“I’m flattered.”

Maria laughed back, the laugh jumping up her throat. It’s like she needed to laugh, after a long day of dealing with domestic and intergalactic bullshit, along with the mark Carol was burning into her brain.

It started to go quiet again until Carol spoke up, feeling the bubbles from the beer in her brain even if it wasn’t going to get her tipsy.

“You know, I dream about sitting on this porch a lot.” “Yeah?”

Maria asks, not looking at Carol.

“Yeah. With you and Mon. There’s always a shit ton of bubbles everywhere and it’s always a really nice day. I have that dream a lot. Except for when I’m actually here.”

Carol explained, partly relieved to share it with Maria. She leaned back, taking a sip before setting the beer down on the step next to her. She waited to see if Maria would answer, unsure if she wanted her to. 

Maria sat with a small smile, unsure if she would be able to keep herself composed through the moment. She dreams about home. 

“You know, when you first came back with your powers, I wondered if you still even needed to sleep.”

“Ha, you know I had the same thought when I realized I wasn’t actually half Kree. On the planet, I slept but I never felt tired. I only started to feel regular human things when I came back here. It was nice to feel sleepy again. It made rest feel satisfying, instead of just kind of necessary.”

Maria looked over at Carol, daring to meet eyes if she looked over too. She wanted to run a hand over the woman's thigh, comfort her for all the things she was sure were running through her mind. She wanted to reach out, pull her into her chest, and hold her there like a child. She wanted to rip all the pain of being conditioned and having to fight to undo it from her, stop it out on the ground and set it on fire for her. With a regular match, not fire from her hands even though sometimes she was convinced she could produce some magic power from her own hands too if she let herself feel enough. She hadn’t realized she had been staring and hadn’t responded until Carol finally turned to look at her. 

“I’m okay, you know. You don’t have to look at me like I’m gonna burst into flames any second. I’m okay, I feel normal being here.”

Carol smiled reassuringly, almost shyly.

“I know, I just hate those bastards.”

Maria sighed, letting her shoulders fall as she looked down at the space between them.

“I feel you. But, you know, someone once told me hate takes up too much room.”

Maria’s heart skipped a beat. Of course Carol would remember one of her wiser parables now, when all she wanted to do was be angry for her. It was usually the other way around, but despite her usual craziness, Carol always had a way of saying the right thing at the right time, even if she didn’t mean to. A superpowered space warrior was right two times a day, it seemed. She let herself laugh, but it came out rougher than she had expected. 

Carol reached over instinctively to grab her hand, squeezing it tight. That’s the second time. Maria thought, wondering if Carol was counting the times they touched too. She felt a dangerous warmth push its way to her chest. She would blame it on the beer like she always did but she couldn’t. Why was she on the verge of tears?

“Hey.” Carol whispered, trying to look at the woman’s face. She tried to smile, squeezing her hand again. This time, Maria squeezed back before pulling it away and picking her empty beer bottle up. 

“I think I’m gonna take a shower, long day, you know. If you wanna borrow some pajamas again, feel free to grab some from my dresser.”

Carol sat still for a moment, wondering if she had gone too far. Normally conversations like this would flow with ease and mutual fluidity. They would hang on each other’s every word until the inevitable came when the sun rose. Maria would wake Monica up to say goodbye, they’d share a cup or two of coffee and by the time the sun was almost at it’s peak, Carol would be long in the distance, no longer even in the atmosphere. So now, having more time than normal, she hoped she hadn’t over stepped. As Maria closed in on the door, only half a step before entering, Carol turned around to look at her.

“Where do you want me to sleep?”

Maria paused, not sure what to say. How did she communicate that she would rather pull her own hair out strand by strand than lay in her bed alone, without Carol Danvers, for another night? How did she explain that she didn’t want to sleep, she was tired in a way only Carol’s skin and fingers and mouth could heal her of? How did she communicate that this was her house too, and she could sleep wherever the fuck she wanted - on the roof if she pleased - as long as Maria could be next to her, without saying any of that?

“Wherever you feel comfortable.” She turned and smiled as best as she could before letting the screen door close behind her, trying to keep a normal pace as she made her way to the bathroom.

Carol sat on the steps for a few more minutes, giving Maria time to get her things for her shower ready and giving herself time to ponder what she should do. Should she sleep on the couch? Should she tell Maria that there’s no where in the universe more comfortable to her than next to her? Should she pretend she didn’t read the letter and see the pictures and hear what Monica said earlier? Should she just sleep on the god damn couch? Having not made up her mind yet, she wandered upstairs and pulled out an old teeshirt from one of the boxes she had been in earlier. She shivered when she looked at the box with the letter in it. She forced herself to focus, shuffling through to find anything appropriate to wear and pulled out some old PT shorts. They were certainly going to be shorter on her now than they were then, given she had put on some much needed muscle in certain areas but they’d have to do.

She felt too embarrassed to go through Maria’s drawer, wear her clothes and then awkwardly make her way to the couch downstairs, only to have to face her in the morning when breakfast time came. She didn’t feel right marking Maria’s belongings, even if they were just a bunch of holiday themed pajamas that she didn’t wear that often anyways. 

Carol decided to change as quickly as she could, and wait to say goodnight to Maria when she came in. She figured she should probably sleep on the couch, suddenly feeling very much like a guest who didn’t want to overstay their welcome. She switched out of her bottoms and underwear, jumping into the shorts she had found. They were snug but not uncomfortable. She took her shirt off quickly and as she began pulling her sports bra over her head, Maria walked in.

Shit.

Shit.

They both thought in unison. Thankfully, Carol’s back was to the door, so she pulled on the t shirt she found quickly while scolding herself for not paying attention enough to hear Maria coming down the hall. 

“S-sorry! I didn’t know you were in here yet. Didn’t see anything.” 

Maria assured, despite the fact that she was still staring at Carol’s once bare back while the woman folded up her clothes in a hurry. To Carol’s surprise, when she turned around, all she saw was Maria’s naked shoulders, moisturized perfectly, with a purple towel wrapped around her. She turned back around almost quicker than Maria could register. It was Carol’s turn to stutter.

“Oh shit, s-sorry! I didn’t see anything either! I didn’t hear you coming!”

Maria accidentally laughed.

“Don’t you have super hearing?”

“Shut up! It only works when you pay attention to it! I thought you were still in the shower. I’m surprised you were so fast, Lt. Trouble told me you use all the hot water.”

Carol quipped back confidently, although she was still turned around and suddenly felt very warm.

“Oh, Trouble indeed. What else did she tell you?”

“A bunch.” 

Carol responded with a smirk in her voice. She sounded like a middle schooler, again reminding Maria how alike her and Monica were. 

“I’m sure. You can turn around now, if you want.”

Carol turned to see Maria smoothing a big white shirt over her belly button, quickly covering up the top of her thighs that were barely covered by the blue boy shorts she was wearing underneath. Carol stared down at the clothes in her hands trying not to seem as anxious as she was. She bent down to pick up the black pair of underwear and a sock she had dropped when she heard Maria chuckle.

“HA! What the hell are you wearing? Are those PT shorts? And does your underwear say Danvers? You still do that?” 

She was practically giggling at this point, a sound that sprung butterflies up in Carol’s stomach. It also taunted her, leaving her no choice but to rebuttal. 

“Listen man! I’m working with what I got! And no, I don’t still write my name in my underwear. I got these from the box of my old clothes.” 

Carol quipped, but found herself almost giggling too. She would’ve found it funny if Maria had on PT shorts from bootcamp too. 

“Whew. That is hilarious, Danvers.”

Maria breathes out, barely recovering from her fit of laughter at Carol’s expense. 

“Oh yeah, I’m flattered!”

She rolled her eyes playfully at Maria. They both sat down on the bed trying to collect themselves, both feeling lighter than before by a small margin.

After a few moments, Maria broke the impending silence before it could secure itself between them.

“Seems like you an Mon’ had a good day. Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble for one day.”

“Nah, it wasn’t too bad at all. She did whoop my ass in pretty much every game you guys own though.”

Carol smiled to herself. Maria fought hard to avoid bringing up the board game and the dice again. She quickly found a new topic to latch onto.

“You know, I must say, you also really did a great job not burning the place down with all that cooking you were doing. Are the aliens teaching you how to handle a kitchen or have you been practicing?”

She laughs, almost forced but she was actually impressed.

“Mmm. Id say it was pure dumb luck, but I’m gonna try to replicate it tomorrow.” 

Carol chuckles, not knowing that the mention of tomorrow was sending Maria’s heart into a frenzy. Silence weasled it’s way back between them for a few moments, although Carol didn’t pick up on it as much this time. It wasn’t until Maria broke it again that she realized it was her turn to figure out how to not let it freeze the warm air between them.

“So, there’s a tomorrow?” 

Maria asked timidly, not wanting to latch too tightly onto the idea that Carol might be staying for longer than coffee in the morning.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be here tomorrow. I wanna try my hand at making waffles this time.”

Carol tries to cut the returned tension she felt. 

“I was thinking about working on my old car in the garage too, if that’s okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, of course. You know you don’t have to ask. This is your house, too. And it’s literally your car.”

Your house, too. Carol reached into the pocket of the pants she had on earlier, pulling out two colorful dice. She rolled them around in her hand for a second. 

“Yeah?”

She said, turning to finally face the woman sitting once again a bit too far away from her. The feeling of being a guest in her own home no longer sat in her chest. She allowed her eyes to make their way up Maria’s frame before meeting her eyes. Carol felt her hand move towards the woman, who was now looking down at one of the die in her non moving hand. Maria was almost terrified to meet her gaze, breath caught in her throat. Carol felt their hands connect, dropping the other die in her hand before closing her fingers around Maria’s. The woman next to her squeezed tight, almost too tight even for the superhero. 

Maria finally met Carol’s eyes with her own, finally releasing her breath, allowing her chest to move. 

“Yeah.” 

She said softly, almost too soft to hear but just enough for Carol. They both looked like they might burst into tears, both of them having to break eye contact but refusing to release each other from their grip. Third time, Maria counted in her blurring mind. She suddenly felt like all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Carol’s breath. They were close again, it was all she needed. She needed to feel Carol’s skin, know she was real. Know she wouldn’t let go.

Carol struggling against her own breath, finally let the desperation sitting inside of her take control. 

“What’re we doing, ‘Ri?”

She asked, in almost a whisper. She heard Maria’s breath get choked in her throat, just like she had earlier in the kitchen with Monica. She was still worried that she might have pushed too far too fast, but she needed something. Anything Maria could give her. An answer, a rejection, anything. She couldn’t sit still in the stifled confusion much longer, she feared she might actually implode. She waited, listening to Maria’s breathing. In and out, in and out. Like she was trying to quietly catch her breath. She heard her heart beat, it matched her own. Like they could beat out of their chests and find the other heart. Like they needed to be pressed together. So, Carol did just that. Finally listening to what her body was telling her. Hoping it wouldn’t be the wrong thing.

Just as Maria tried to whisper I don’t know, she let go of Maria’s hand and pulled her in, chest to chest, nestling her face in Maria’s shoulder. Maria whimpered, almost in shock. It took her almost 10 seconds to return the embrace, finally crushing into Carol the way she needed to. She knelt her face in the warmth of Carol’s neck, creating a tsunami in Carol from the graze of her lips against the side of her neck alone. They made themselves impossibly close, quieting the sounds of the world and honing in on each other’s heart beats. They took in each other’s scent, filling their lungs with the air surrounding each other. They let their hair tickle each other, finding comfort in the familiar feeling of Blackness around them. They rocked into each other to a rhythm that was so natural it almost felt like part of breathing. Finally, Maria let it drop.

A single tear rolled down Carol’s shoulder, sliding down as far as it could carry itself. Maria choked back what was sure to be her own tsunami.

“Mar-”

“I miss you. -- I miss you I m-iss you I miss you.”

She whispered with a drawn out sob. It was so quiet, it felt tragic to them both. 

Carol was silent, letting the woman release whatever she was ready to, feeling her chest heave with the impatience to relieve itself from the pent up emotions. She felt the woman in her arms shake softly, trying to fight back anything she convinced herself was a weakness. She had things to do, a person to be, a child to raise. She couldn’t let the grief get her again. But it was always there, maybe even more now in some ways. She hadn’t let this happen in so long, and the weight of pretending had pushed her to the edge of herself. She was the strongest woman in the world, and it was because she was soft. 

Carol struggled against her own tears, trying not to let them come so that she wouldn’t center her own pain in the moment. They were both too similar for their own good. She listened to Maria’s body pull the words up her throat and out her mouth, betraying her as they saved her from the pit she kept forcing herself into.

“I miss you ss-so much.” She repeated several times over. Like it was the only language she spoke. Eventually, she stopped, letting her fingers relax from gripping into Carol’s skin as tight as she could. She leaned into Carol more, feeling the weight of her body’s exhaustion mix with that of her mind. Carol let her, holding her firm but gentle. She lifted the woman up just as effortlessly as she did Monica, and carried her to her side of the bed, never moving her face from her shoulder. She laid her and herself down, sliding easily over top of her until she was on her side, careful not to put any weight on Maria’s body. She pulled the cover over them, that being the only time her hand left Maria’s body. She cradled the soft woman, giving her all of herself. She rocked her gently, counting her heart beats. 

As Maria’s breath finally got slower and deeper, she knew she would be asleep soon. Maria didn’t want to sleep but she needed it. Carol needed it to. They stuck to each other like glue, once again paying no mind to the heat stuck between them. Carol whispered back, finally.

“I miss you too.”

She felt Maria squeeze her tighter, then release and finally relax her body all the way. 

No more sniffles, no more sounds, just the weightless feeling of being together. It was easy again, for the moment. Carol rubbed her thumb lightly over Maria’s back, comforting them both enough to rest. She let the thoughts she had been fighting release from the walls of her mind, daring to look at them. She thought about the night in the lake, laying in the sand. She thought about the night before she left for a new base, with no idea when they’d be together again. She thought about the first time she came home, the gentle uncertainty between them melting away like it always did - no matter how much still needed to be figured out. She wasn’t sure how much progress had been made, but she knew that this is where she needed to be. As she finally let herself drift off to sleep, knowing that Maria was alright enough now, she knew she wouldn’t dream. She released herself to the peace of belonging, only to be startled one more time.

“Don’t you even think about leaving until you finish that car.” 

Maria commanded, even in her softest state. Carol smiled, feeling even more in place now.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[sweetjulieapples]

"Dear Commander" Chapter six - Adventure Awaits!

Cullen x Trevelyan

AO3 MASTERLIST

The Chantry accelerate tensions while The Herald struggles to remain focused.

full chapter below

Herald, Using such terms of endearment is considered poor decorum, military-wise. I’ll forgive you - this time. I have made arrangements with the lieutenant to provide you with any necessary training. I believe Cassandra will want to be involved. You or I likely won’t have a say in that matter. I’m pleased to hear word of The Inquisition’s success and await your safe return. All of the dozen horses will be accepted by my officers on arrival. There is no need for a personal horse at this time. Commander Cullen

Juliette scrunched up the note and tucked it into the pocket of her coat. With one hand full of leather reins, the other raked hair away from her face. She cautiously looked behind her shoulder. Soldiers were sparring as per usual, she didn’t need to look to know that much. Juliette examined her surroundings, taking careful notice of who was and was not around to oppose her next move. With a cheeky grin she let her forehead press against the side of Romeo’s neck. “I see no Commander to take you away from me,” she spoke softly to the horse. “Our adventure awaits!”

Juliette led her horse to the small stable by the main gate. There was a older man standing by with rugged features, yet a warm smile. “Ah, I take it that you are the one they are calling The Herald of Andraste?” he asked upon greeting her.

Juliette returned polite smile, “That is what they keep saying.” She almost began to explain how she doesn’t agree with the title, as she has done many times before. After days of travelling she decided it would be easier to just let it be. She was too tired to protest and chose to just roll with it. This time at least.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m the stable hand…I suppose,” he shrugged his shoulders and adjusted his stance so that he was leaning against the fence post.

“And you,” Juliette replied with a nod and a look that invited him to elaborate further.

“My knee’s buggered so I wasn’t able to go with The Commander’s construction crew to The Hinterlands. What’s left to do but shovel horse shit?” Realising his language, the stable hand quickly stood straight. “I’m sorry my lady, I mean no offence.”

“None taken,” Juliette laughed. After spending so much time around the Inquisition’s personnel she had quickly became accustomed to a wide array of colourful language. That’s without taking into account any time spent talking with Varric.

“The other horses will arrive shortly,” Juliette explained as she handed the reins to the stable hand. “This is Romeo,” she smiled proudly.

“You’re giving them names?” he chuckled.

“Just this one. He is to be my personal horse. The others are for military or what have you,” she waved her hand to the side. “Please make sure that nobody tries to take him.”

The stable hand nodded, “Yes, Herald.”

Juliette tilted her head in acknowledgement and began to walk towards the gate. She wondered if her instructions for the stable hand was to be considered an abuse of power. It was hard for her to truly feel guilty about it, she really wanted that horse!

To Juliette’s surprise, she was greeted by Josephine upon walking into the yard. It was unusual to see The Ambassador outside of the old chantry building. “Lady Trevelyan!” she called out with excitement.

“Josephine? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The Ambassador hurried down the stone steps with a hand full of letters and a gracious smile. A flurry of snow caught in her dark hair and she began to shiver as she approached The Herald.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Juliette fussed, placing a hand on the silk-ruffle sleeves that draped over her arm.

“Very,” Josephine nodded. “It matters none. I’ve been waiting to speak with you, have you a moment, Herald?”

“Of course,” Juliette replied.

“Truly? Because you only just got back and I would understand if you were tired —”

“Josephine. You came all this way to speak with me, how could I say no?” Juliette pointed to the envelopes. “I’m also very curious about what you have there.”

“Letters!” Josephine beamed. “From all over Thedas! So many letters!” Juliette extended her arm, gesturing for Josephine to walk beside her. “There is one in particular that you might find interesting.” She handed Juliette the envelope from the top of the stack.

“Lady Susannah Trevelyan?” Juliette asked with a suspicious tone. “Why use the family name? My sister is well into her thirties, I’d expect that she’d have been married off to some crusty old lord by now.”

“She has!” Josephine giggled. “And he is most definitely crusty.”

With intrigue Juliette spoke, “It seems you know more of my family than I do.”

“Its all the talk in the Free Marches right now. Everybody wants to prove that they know The Herald of Andraste. All your sisters and their husbands have changed to the Trevelyan name.”

Juliette wrinkled her nose. “How lovely,” she spoke sarcastically. “I haven’t seen them since I was eleven.”

“They didn’t write to you while you were in the circle?” Josephine asked.

“Scarcely,” Juliette answered with an eye roll.

“So approaching them for their formal support of The Inquisition is out of the question?”

Juliette sighed and glanced at Josephine with tired eyes. “Do whatever you need. I couldn’t care less about my family.”

Josephine gave her an sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Herald. It must have been hard growing up in the circle alone.”

“I wasn’t entirely alone. I had a cousin there actually. We were close once.” Juliette’s lips formed a sad smile. “He was similar in age, like a brother to me.”

“Was?” Josephine asked softly.

Juliette nodded. “He was a Templar.”

Josephine replied with an awkward “Oh,” while Juliette stared at the snow that lightly settled before her feet. “Would you like to speak of something else?” she asked The Herald.

With a forced smile, Juliette slowly lifted her head. “Sure,” she spoke sweetly, her lips straightening as she caught a glimpse of people exiting the chantry. The Commander was unmistakable, clad in his usual armour that glistened in the sunlight.

“The tension rising in Val Royeaux is concerning, Herald,” Josephine spoke seriously. Juliette snapped her eyes back to Josephine and the ladies continued to walk. “We must address it and soon.”

“Mhmm,” Juliette hummed. She looked behind her shoulder, hoping to catch another glimpse of Cullen. He stood by the chantry door with folded arms, while clerics wandered past. Perhaps the most visited part of Haven’s base, the chantry was bustling with activity as workers and recruits moved about chatting. Cullen remained still amongst them all, standing tall and strong. Juliette couldn’t let her eyes linger lest she appeared suspicious. Or rude, Josephine was talking after all. She shook her head and had hoped in doing so that she could shake away this silly infatuation that plagued her thoughts. Her priorities were scattered, and she needed to regain composure. They were at war and her focus needed to be on survival, first and foremost.

Noticing Juliette’s movements, Josephine smirked. “Was that a shiver from the cold or a shudder at the thought of so many chantry leaders gathering at one place?”

“A bit of both!” Juliette chuckled “Can we go stand by a fireplace somewhere? I can’t wait until we find a better place to live than a bunch of hovels in the middle of an ice storm.”

Josephine laughed “Oh! It’s such a relief to hear someone else say that out loud!”

From where he was standing, Cullen had possibly the most strategic view of Haven’s stronghold, save from the mountain top. His gaze was sharp while he scanned the walls of the settlement, taking note of every structure and every possible weakness. People were pouring into Haven daily to support The Inquisition and he feared that accommodating such a mass of civilians could soon become troublesome. Work on the trebuchets was too slow for his liking and he pondered alternative methods of defense.

“This arrived for you, Ser.” An officer stood beside Cullen, joining his observations after handing over the letter. “Sister Leliana is addressing the delay in messages as we speak. I trust she’ll resolve the issue.”

“I’m certain of it,” Cullen responded as he opened the letter.

Commander, I look forward to an invigorating training session with your lieutenant. I will be taking ownership of the chestnut Ferelden with the white stripe on his face. Should you wish to claim this horse, you will need to dismount me yourself. Lady Trevelyan p.s Is this letter formal enough for you Commander, military-wise?  

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen sighed. He pushed the glove-covered palms of his hands firmly against his forehead and exhaled loudly. For a small moment he held a tight grin that quickly was consumed by frustration. He needed to remain focused and couldn’t afford this distraction. He had been sure to remain occupied over the past week, training soldiers and overseeing the fortification of Haven. Every now and then his mind would wander as he anticipated another letter or pondered upon The Herald’s whereabouts. It terrified Cullen that these thoughts could so easily creep up on him and he feared such a distraction could interfere with his duty as Commander. If the past was any indication, ill-placed infatuation was a dangerous game to play. Time was a luxury that he couldn’t spare and between the constant calls for advisory meetings, getting his own work done had become challenging. The last thing he needed was another woman to boss him around - Maker knows that Josephine and Leliana were antagonising enough!

“Can you oversee the arrival of the horses?” he asked the officer with an irritated tone.

“Yes, Commander.”

The shouting could be heard as far as Josephine’s office. The chaos was diffused well before Juliette could make her way to the door, though the aftermath was felt with every stare that fell upon her. Mages looked to her for guidance while soldiers, many of whom were still in Templar armour, glared at her with disgust. As the large chantry door slammed shut behind her, Chancellor Roderick stormed towards Juliette pointing an accusatory finger.

“You!” he shouted. “The so called ‘Herald of Andraste’ and the rebel Inquisition.” His words dripped with venom. Juliette stood, dumbfounded, unsure of what she had just walked into. “You can’t guide them to order!” Roderick snapped, turning his attention back to Cullen, who stood behind him. “Your own men are on the verge of splitting into open warfare with themselves.” Cullen stood with folded arms and an steely expression. He watched the chancellor closely with narrow eyes.

Juliette had done well to slip into the building without the need to make eye contact with Cullen. Now outside once more, she stood before him un prepared and vulnerable. Regardless of what she felt and the intensity of her nerves around him, anger was rising to the forefront. Chancellor Roderick had, on numerous occasions, ordered Juliette’s execution. He was a threat to her, no less than that of a armed bandit or rift demon. He was unleashed to Haven and his words held far more power than he deserved. Juliette had witnessed too many of The Inquisition’s people die out there. Ordinary folk, men and women were giving their lives to this cause, and she’d be damned if she was going to stand there and let him take that away. She didn’t believe that the mark was gifted to her, but for the first time in her life she was starting to feel as though she had a purpose outside of being a “circle mage”.

“I don’t believe that I was sent by Andraste any more than you do!” Juliette growled. She swooped in front of the chancellor so that her back was to Cullen and her face firmly before Roderick’s. Through gritted teeth, Juliette snarled, “Say what you will of me, but don’t you dare soil The Inquisition’s name. Seeker Pentagast and Sister Leliana operate in respect of The Divine, Maker rest her soul.”

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick yelled. His face was close enough to Juliette’s that she could feel his foul breath against her cheeks. “You have no leader! The Chantry is the only wa—”

Chancellor Roderick fell silent when a hand dropped onto Juliette’s shoulder. Her eyes snapped to the side, resting on the leather glove. Then she saw plate armour and a blur of burgundy coloured fur. Cullen stepped in front of her and extended his arm, shielding Juliette. His gaze was and stern and unrelenting.

“Step back, Chancellor,” The Commander spoke firmly.

Juliette’s heart was pounding so hard that she could feel her pulse throbbing at her neck. Roderick had her seething with anger, yet Cullen was the one who made her tense up. All she could focus on was the fluttering feeling that consumed her body and the blaring thump of her heartbeat. With him standing so close to her, her thoughts were a swirl of regretful lust.

Does he know what he’s doing to me? The way he stands with such authority, so tall and strong? His voice sends shivers down my spine in the best possible way - this is ridiculous. He’s doing his job, our job! I must focus!

The order was for the chancellor, yet it was Juliette who stepped back. Three paces, a suitable distance from Cullen, but not this madness. She hung her head and inhaled a few shaky breaths. She needed to get herself together -and fast!

Chancellor Roderick huffed with anger. Juliette looked up and their eyes met once more. It was only a moment earlier that she felt fierce as she stood her ground against him. Now she felt like a scolded child, embarrassed and weak. “Better ready yourself for the blame you will be rightly assigned,” he spat out the words before turning his back and walking into the distance. Juliette buried her face into her hands, wallowing in defeat. She wondered how far that argument could have gone had Cullen not intervened. Such anger was uncharacteristic of her and after a chance to cool down, she was taken aback by her reaction.

Cullen looked around, noticing the onlookers of workers and soldiers. “Back to your duties!” he yelled. “All of you.” With knitted brows, Cullen shook his head and looked towards The Herald. He moved to her side and stood with folded arms. “Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was soft and calm. Juliette’s blood flashed hot for a moment at the sound. She kept her gaze to the ground and nodded. Silence fell between them, the only noises being that of the chattering of people in the distance and the crackling of energy that often thundered from the breach in the sky.

Juliette slowly let her eyes creep to the side of her, catching a glance of The Commander. His face held a stoic expression as he stared towards Haven’s gate. She let herself relax, looking ahead also. She took her time to gather enough nerve to speak. “What happened out here?” He turned to face her and their eyes met for just a second. Juliette averted her gaze back towards the ground before she continued. “What was all that yelling?”

Cullen sighed, “With the influx of recruits it was only a matter of time before mages and Templars came to head. “ He rolled his eyes. “They are already at war, now they’re blaming each other for The Divine’s death.”

Juliette hummed in agreeance. “Yet the Chantry stands idle, ready to throw the blame our way.” She pulled her windswept hair to the side and began to slowly comb her fingers through. Back in the circle she would be scolded for fidgeting with her hair, something she’d often find herself doing when nervous.

“They want to send you to Val Royeaux.” Cullen said, still holding his gaze steady towards the gate. “Soon I’d expect.”

“Josephine said as much. Hopefully we’ll arrive to a solution and not a cathedral full of chancellors.”

Cullen chuckled, breaking his impassive demeanor. With a playful whisper he replied, “the stuff of nightmares!”

A unrestrained giggle escaped Juliette’s lips. She quickly held a hand over her mouth, surprised by Cullen’s remark and more so the loud squeak that she made in response. All that effort to appear composed was undone with a single comment. Naturally in the moment, they glanced at each other and smiled. That was the first time that Juliette took proper notice of the scar upon his upper lip. Somehow, she felt, it made him look more handsome. Cullen’s lingering grin faltered when she tore her eyes away and turned her head, cheeks burning in an aggressive blush. He cleared his throat and resumed his dutiful stance.

“As much as I hate to admit, the chancellor has a point,” Cullen spoke, breaking the awkward silence. “Without a leader The Chantry may very well tear The Inquisition apart.” His attention was caught by Cassandra as she stormed towards them. With every stride her fury became more apparent.

“Both of you!” she snapped. “War table. Now!” Like a whirlwind , she tore past and disappeared into the chantry.

Juliette bit her lip and grinned before she spoke. “The Chantry doesn’t have a Cassandra.”

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu [Track 5 + Epilogue]

Original title: 愛しうる限り & エピローグ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke

Translator’s note: This CD really did deliver near the very end and tugged onto my heartstrings BIG TIME. Shuu being honest with myself and realizing just how much he loves the MC is honestly one of my favorite things in the world. ;w; He definitely solidified himself as nr. 2 in my heart once more. (Sorry Shuu, Subaru will forever be number one. <3)

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: As Long as our Love Lasts

Shuu is playing the violin again.

( At some point, I grew tired of counting, or even thinking about how many times I had played the same song, or how many days - or perhaps even months - had passed since she fell into a deep slumber. )

*Snap*

“Oh...The string...I haven’t taken care of this thing for a while, so I guess this was bound to happen. ...In the end, my song never reached you, huh?”

*Thud*

He walks over to the bed.

“I’ve honestly seen enough...of this never-changing expression. I wish I could have seen a glimpse of your past self for one last time, but I guess it can’t be helped.”

He takes a seat.

*Rustle*

“I’m sure you’re aware, but I always hated being waken up from my naps. Therefore, hearing your approaching footsteps was the most annoying sound in the world to me. However, having your face be the very first thing I saw when I opened my eyes after you interrupted my sleep, honestly wasn’t half bad. ...Just the fact I felt that way, means that you must have at least meant something to me. 

...If you were to ask me the same question you did before, then I would probably give you the following answer. ーー You are special to me. Not because your blood is delicious. You are the only woman on this planet who I wouldn’t want to lose, even if your blood were to disappear, If only I had said these words to you back then...”

Shuu suddenly collapses onto the sheets.

*Rustle* 

“...Ah...The effects are finally kicking in, huh? ...I haven’t been getting a wink of sleep as of late...So to ensure I can finally get a sound sleep...Cough, cough...”

*Cling*

“I drank a certain drug from this bottle earlier...You’re not going to wake up anyway...So you don’t mind if I sleep alongside you, right? Even if that is an eternal slumber...When you’re with me, I don’t mind. That’s just how much Iーー...”

He scoots closer.

*Smooch*

“...love you. ...Ugh...Cough, cough...Haah, haah...I finally gave you the words you’ve been dying to hear...yet you’re missing out on them...You foolish woman...Hahaha...I guess I shouldn’t say that, huh...? Ugh...”

Shuu loses consciousness.

*Shatter*

( I lost the feeling in my limbs, before my mind went blank as well and before I knew it, I was unable to think of anything. I couldn’t fight back against my heavy eyelids. Now I can finally get some rest again. ーー That’s what I thought, yet...Aah, there it is again. I can hear her voice again. Per usual, she’s calling my name as if her life depends on it. I’ve heard this voice a million times, but in the end, it’s nothing but my mind playing tricks on me. Even if I wake up, you won’t be there anyway. Therefore, I chose eternal sleep. )

*Rustle* 

( You’re persistent...Guess you’re stubborn even within my dreams, huh? )

You continue to call his name.

( Oh come on...Just let me sleep... )

You persist.

( Like I said, pipe down. Don’t shout my name over and over... )

*Rustle rustle*

“Nn...Hm? ...Ugh...”

*Rustle*

“What do you want? I was having such a nice nap...”

*Rustle*

“Ah...Oh? You...are awake? So that wasn’t just a hallucination right now? Or rather, why are you crying?”

You tell Shuu you thought he had died.

“Died? ...Oh, right. Why am I alive as well? Did you do something?”

You continue to sob.

“I can’t tell when you’re bawling like that...Hm? The taste of your blood...lingers inside my mouth.”

You explain.

“...You frantically tried to feed me your blood thinking that might be able to bring me back to life? I won’t deny that my wounds heal quicker when I have your blood...but I didn’t think it could serve as an antidote as well. Your blood really is something else. Well, you still won against it though. ...Oi, I don’t mind if you’re crying, but give me a good look at your face.”

*Rustle*

“I’m asking you to move closer. My body still feels heavy, I can’t move. Come on, scoot over.”

You move closer.

“How long has it been...? I’m actually reflected in your eyes.”

Shuu embraces you.

“Haah...”

*Rustle*

“Keep still. I can’t put in much strength since my arms are still numb.”

You ask Shuu what happened.

“I’m the one who wants to know what happened. Honestly, what made you suddenly wake up? Is it because I finally genuinely admitted my own feelings...?”

You tilt your head to the side.

“You know, you’ve been asleep this whole time, remember?”

You look at him in surprisement.

“Don’t tell me, you didn’t have a clue?”

You nod.

“Well, it happened out of nowhere, so I guess it’s obvious considering you were unconscious as well. ...No, it’s fine if you don’t remember. That was a nightmare anyway.”

You ask him if it was rough.

“...Yeah.”

*Rustle*

“A lot happened...It was one hell of a ride. But right now, rather than letting you go...”

*Smooch*

“Haah...Come on, don’t get all surprised over a little kiss still. However, I don’t dislike that side of you either. When you were asleep, you wouldn’t react no matter how many times I did this after all.”

*Smooch*

“...What? Don’t panic.”

You note his behavior seems off.

“Weird? You’re the last person I want to hear that from though. I told you, remember? I went through a lot. That being said, it doesn’t matter. It’s just...I came to realize a few things.”

You tilt your head to the side. 

“How you felt, for example. Or how important it is to put things into words every now and then. ...And what you mean to me, I suppose. ...I believe you woke up because I finally understood those things. Well, you don’t seem to realize that yourself though. Oh, right...I should apologize while I can. I’m sorry for acting indifferent towards you up till now. I deeply regret it. Soーー”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Please don’t get upset and fall into a slumber again, it pains me”

You tell him you never meant to do that to him.

“Even if that wasn’t your intention, it still happened. And it was much more wicked than having you lash out at me or run away from home. Not to mention it was extremely bothersome. I had to look after you 24/7, right? In that regard...you really are a handful.”

You apologize.

“Haha...You don’t need to say sorry, really. I’ve already accepted it. I’m to blame for falling in love with such a woman.”

Your eyes widen in sheer surprise.

“...What?”

You ask him to repeat himself.

“I said I love you, what about it? I said it earlier as we...Ah, right. I guess you didn’t hear me back then since you were still asleep. ...Haha, look at those rounded eyes, your face looks hilarious. ...I really do prefer seeing you like this.”

*Smooch*

“I understand you are having trouble believing me. I’ve only got myself to blame for that. However, I’m sure you’ll soon come to realize. I already had plenty regrets while you were asleep. From here on out, I’ll tell you these words until you’ll be tired of hearing them ーー How much I love you, that is.”

*Smooch*

Track 6: Epilogue

“...Hey.”

You turn around.

“You’re ogling way too much. It looks shameless, so come here.”

You run over

“Is an instrument store really that special to you?”

You nod.

“Well, I can imagine you have little affiliation with these places. When I bring up the name of a composer, you usually look at me as if I’m speaking Chinese. Although despite that, you seemed happy to visit this place.”

You explain.

“Ahー So that’s why. Honestly, it would have been much easier to just come by myself, but I’d rather not make you upset again by ignoring you.”

You smile, thanking him.

“...I see. Whatever. ...Anyway, I requested a full maintenance along with replacing the broken string, so it might take a while. We’ll get in the way if we wait here, so let’s go over there.”

The two of you move to another room.

*Creaaak*

You look around.

“It’s a test room. Customers can use this place to test out the intruments before purchase. There’s nobody here right now, so the owner said we can make ourselves comfortable.”

You ask Shuu if he plans to buy a new violin.

“No, I’m not buying anything. I like my current violin.”

You seem confused, wondering why you’re here then.

“You really are a fool, aren’t you?”

Shuu pulls you closer.

*Rustle*

“To kill some time, obviously.”

You get slightly flustered. 

“It’s a perfect way to combat the boredom, no? It’s muh more comfortable than having to wander around outside. On top of that...This place is soundproof. You can scream as loud as you want, nobody will hear. I’m sure you like the sound of that as well? ーー That being said, we have to think about your health. I doubt you’re already back in top shape, so I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to.”

You hesitate. 

“Hm~? In that case, you want it?”

You go quiet.

“Cat got your tongue? I seem to recall a certain someone was displeased because they were being ‘used’?  Clearly tell me what you want. Right now, I can actually live up to your wishes. ...What do you want from me?”

You ask for his fangs. 

“Hehe...I hate being ordered around, but hearing you beg for it isn’t bad at all. Especially when it’s the words ‘Suck my blood, please’.”

Shuu bites you.

“Mmh...Nn...I said you could make all the noise you want, remember? It’s not like anyone but me can hear.”

You get embarrassed. 

“Heh. First you beg for it and now you get all embarrassed. You’re kind of contradicting yourself there, no? Well, it doesn’t matter. In that case, I’ll go for one of your more sensitive spots so you won’t be able to suppress your voice. Mmh...”

*Gulp*

“Hah...Exactly...Let me hear more...Why still hesitate at this point?”

You explain. 

“You’re worrying for nothing per usual. You no longer need to be scared that I’ll find you annoying or get tired of you. Well, I won’t deny that there’s times I get a little irritated by your behavior. I’m sure I might be a little grumpy when you disturb my sleep as well. 

However, I would never grow to dislike you over something like that. I already know what kind of woman you are. You’re the type to beg for my fangs in a place like this. On top of that, a loudmouth who loves to meddle with other people’s affairs and quite the handful at times. To be honest, too much of a bother to keep by one’s side. 

You puff out your cheeks. 

“Haha. It’s the truth, no? However, despite all of that, I don’t want to let you go. So don’t worry. Just let out your voice to your heart’s content, giving yourself over to me all you want. I’ve already decided I will love every side of you after all.”

*Smooch*

ーー THE END ーー

[fabricated-misslieness]

Hey, can you do a Dazai x Port Mafia Executive Male Reader. Where reader is Dazai former partner before he gets replace by Chuuya and instead of Chuuya coming for Q and fighting Lovecraft its reader instead. Readers ability is like Shigaraki from bnha.

Dazai Osamu x sadistic!male reader

Ngl I was a little confused cause the last time I watched bsd was months ago.

Also made the reader sadistic because yes. i forgot the reason

Part 2

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 3859

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (Dazai stuff ofc), angsty boi

“You want me to pair up with this rookie?” You gesture in the vague direction of Dazai. You know he’s there, but you don’t act like it.

Dazai huffs, offended by your words. He crosses his arms. You weren’t giving him the best impression and if you were going to be partners, he at least had to tolerate you enough to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Now, now,” Mori chides with a sweet tone. You don’t trust the guy, he may act kind, but you’re sure he hides something with that kindness. “He’s already a port mafia executive.” You roll your eyes, he was only one of them because he witnessed the old boss handing down his title ‘willingly’. You seriously doubted he did do it willingly, seeing as it was a mere few minutes before his death. That sort of coincidence belongs to a movie.

“Like I don’t know that.” You shake your head. “Fine, fine, I’ll be his partner. I only want to know what he can do. He has an ability, doesn’t he?”

You finally acknowledge his presence, turning to him and sizing him up. Dazai is flustered by the gesture, but he pretends to act calm and collected, something that works with that young poker face of his.

“Yes--” Mori is interrupted by the executive himself, who is eager to show off.

“Yes, I do.” Dazai replies, uncrossing his arms. “But what’s yours?”

You furrow your eyebrows. Abilities are wide and unique, ranging from psychological to physical to straight magic. Knowing your ability could be a part of his ability. You were to work together so he’d know either way, but at the moment, you wanted to know his weaknesses.

“That’s valuable information.” You crack your knuckles and stretch, pretending to prepare for a fight.

“No fighting in my office.” Mori reminds you. “Or the building, for that matter. One of your abilities is particularly destructive, and we don’t know what you could do. Go to the training area if you’re going to fight.”

You give both of them a smirk, “Who says I was going to fight? I was merely enjoying the look in Dazai’s eye.”

Dazai frowned, quickly fixing his composure. It’s true, he was a little intimidated and he did not mean to let it show.

“You’re quite sadistic, aren’t you?” Mori chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s one thing right about me, boss.” You smile brightly. Dazai furrows his eyebrows and examines you. That smile of yours is sickeningly sweet, almost mocking. You look like a monster, but maybe that was part of your act. He’d know your ability in no time.

“Well, as partners you do have to know each other’s abilities. I picked Dazai specifically for you.” That gave each of them a hint to each other’s abilities, more to Dazai than anything.

You nod letting out a sigh, “Do you have anything you don’t want, Mori?”

Dazai quirks an eyebrow, interested in the peculiar question. Mori nods, nudging forward a tongue depressor, those big wooden popsicle sticks, one he could very well spare.

You pick up with all but one finger, your middle finger, holding it up for both of them to see. “Do you have anything for the debris?” Mori slides a metal tray towards the edge of the table.

“Pay close attention, Dazai.” You give him a glance before looking back at the stick, putting your final finger on it. It disintegrates in a matter of seconds, turning into pieces so small that they look like ash. “What’s yours?” You turn to him.

Dazai seems to shrink under your gaze, but he keeps a stoic look. “Put your hand on my arm.” You raise an eyebrow. Does he wish to experiment with your ability or is it part of his?

You put your hand on his arm, once again with all but one finger. You don’t trust him, that much is clear.

“Trust me.” The look he gives you is genuine, albeit the smile is devilish, though you oblige all the same.

Your eyebrows furrow when your ability has no effect. The skin doesn’t disintegrate, nor does it fall apart as usual. “That is my ability, No Longer Human.”

“And that is why I paired you two up.”

You huff a little angrily once you realize. His ability stops other abilities, what triggered it you didn’t know, but that wasn’t the most important thing for you. He paired you two up to have him be your control. You don’t need anyone to control you and you don’t want anyone to control you. You want to do you and you do not want this boy to hold you back.

You open your mouth to protest but Mori interrupts you. “This is my decision and mine alone, you cannot say otherwise.” As much as you want to mess up his pretty face, you couldn’t disobey the boss.

“Fine.”

As time grew on, Dazai had become a friend, though sometimes he felt like more than a friend. Despite your early refusal to the idea, you’d really warmed up to each other.

Dazai, the young bastard, was also quite the prick at times. Though you couldn’t really complain about his age since it turns out you’re within the same age range. While he was a prick, he was also caring, as you’d come to learn.

Sometimes he’d hold your forearm when you were touching something, even though over the years you’d built up the habit to not use your middle finger. Every time he did so you would laugh and it would somewhat fluster you, you’d tell him you didn’t need it and without fail he would say “Just in case.” It was nice to know he cared, and the other little gestures he would perform were even nicer.

You were known for being a little sadistic, taking joy from inflicting pain for no reason. When he’d hold you back from attacking some random lackey at the time it would make you angry, but a few minutes later you’d be grateful for it. After all, that lackey wouldn’t be very useful with an injury.

Though sometimes even he couldn’t hold you back. When you’d start a fight with another executive just for your enjoyment, he was quick to be there and keep you in touch. Perhaps you did need control after all.

The other executives were rather thankful for Dazai, as you chose someone to pick on every week. Something you hated about Dazai was that he was immune to your mockery. He got used to it from your partnership and he couldn’t be hurt by your ability. But you supposed it was for the better, the other executives were starting to get really annoyed by you.

Except everything changed when Nakahara came along.

Although your partnership was relatively new, you found comfort in each other’s companies. You protected each other’s weaknesses and complemented each other’s strengths; so when the news came along that Chūya would replace you as Dazai’s partner, both of you were a little ticked off, per say.

Dazai’s first impression on the newer rookie didn’t help their relationship. Chūya annoyed him to the very ends of the Earth and he did not want him to replace you. It wasn’t just Chūya either, he’d grown very fond of you. Sometimes he couldn’t even fight without you; He was used to you being there to back him up, though this detail he would not tell you.

In time, you didn’t look like the monster he’d thought you were in his first impression of you. You actually looked sweet.

Your smile, which for everybody else would be sadistic, turned out to look more endearing to him. Everybody caught onto the fact that the smiles you’d directed at him weren’t the smiles he’d show others. Somehow you hadn’t realized it, but he had.

You’d grown to like him, dare say crush on him, which was something you denied. His triumphant smile after the end of a mission and the jokes he’d make as you fought were always the highlight of your day.

None of you wanted to give up the other.

“This is his decision and his alone, we cannot say otherwise.” You mocked, making Dazai snicker. The fact he used the same words was quite ironic, really. 

Tomorrow marked Chūya and his first mission together, so you’d dedicated this day to each other. Dazai did not look forward to tomorrow, and as much as he wanted to vent to you about Chūya’s very abundant annoying qualities, you’d both promised not to talk about it.

The news of your separation had made both of you realize your growing crushes for each other. You were no longer in denial, though you loathed the idea… but when you really thought about it, you didn’t loathe the idea. Musing to yourself about hugging him, playing with his hair… thinking about the fact that you did in fact like it made you gag.

As the night neared to an end, your guts told you to tell him. You wouldn’t see each other all that often anyway and if you were never to interact much, at least you would be getting this off your chest.

“Dazai.” You both stared out the window of the HQ, prior to you speaking up you were in an awkward silence. None of you wanted to say goodbye.

He turned to you and you to him. As much as you wanted to avoid eye contact, you thought it might help. “I like you… don’t joke with me.”

Dazai was going to make a joke. It was amazing how much you got to know him in so little time. He smiled, and your hopes raised when you took notice of how it wasn’t pitiful. “I like you too.”

You immediately let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Where’s the big sadistic lion?” Dazai questions, playfully mocking how meek you are right now. His smile seems more joyful than usual, as it should with what just happened.

You snicker, giving him the sadistic smile he’s used to. “I’m right here.”

Dazai was your anchor in the Port Mafia, even when he plead for double suicide with you. Before you were partnered up, you absolutely despised the place. The other executives and the occasional lackeys were fun to provoke but it was almost as if that was your coping mechanism. You often complained about how awful the Mafia was handled with the previous boss, but he would never change anything. He was an idiot up until his very death.

You thought Mori’s recent ‘crowning’ would change your opinion, but it didn’t change it at all. You still hated the place. It was almost as if their only objective was to keep their hands on Yokohama. You wanted more than that, you wanted the whole of Japan to be your turf.

Mori didn’t want that and while he would take the opportunity once presented, he wouldn’t do a thing otherwise. He was perfectly happy with that and you weren’t.

Dazai was the only reason you stayed, but now the reason had been diminishing. You barely spoke and barely hung out. This wasn’t what ‘dating’ was and both of you knew it.

He wanted to try harder and so did you, but with your current situation, you couldn’t. When he wasn’t with Chūya, you were out on a mission. No, you weren’t jealous. This wasn’t Chūya’s fault nor was it something either of you could control. There were various times you debated on breaking up.

Dazai was the only thing holding you back from leaving, so if you broke up you didn’t have to worry about him. But you liked him and both of you would be heartbroken. You never liked thinking about it, but someday, it had to be addressed. That day never came.

The final day you were with the Port Mafia was the day that you had a brush with death.

You’d called for backup, you’d received none. The henchmen you were commanding left like cowards. To think these were the people you’d trained.

One of your big weaknesses was fighting groups of people alone. These henchmen knew that and they’d run. Where were their morals? Where was their faith, their loyalty? Where was their honor, their pride? It was then that you’d learned the Port Mafia wasn’t your place. These people weren’t your people, this turf wasn’t your turf. They were cowards and you were no coward.

Alone and fighting recklessly, you were down. You refused to flee, and that stubbornness was what caused you to nearly die. Luckily, you never crossed death’s doorstep. The people you were fighting presumed you dead the moment you dropped to the ground.

They were fools but a fool you were too to let your emotions get the best of you.

That day somebody had found you on the brisk of death. They claimed to be a spy and they offered to get you help.

Of course, you accept without asking for conditions. You were dying, what else could you have said? The conditions turned out to be joining his organization and feeding them with information or something equally as important.

No longer would you be associated with the Port Mafia. You were glad to leave them. But your only consequence being leaving behind Dazai, the love of your life and the highlight of the day. It was a hard decision to make that was for sure, but it was either this or death.

You felt selfish.

Months after joining them, the so-called ‘Guild’, your heart ached. Leaving Dazai was your biggest mistake but joining the Guild was the best thing that had happened to you since him. For the longest time, you’d wanted to tell him. You never had the guts to. And then you left Japan to join the bigger part of the guild in North America.

In time you’d stopped thinking about Dazai.

The crew was polite, a contrast from the cold lackeys and executives from the Port Mafia. It’s a nice change, one you wish won’t ever change. But maybe the hope of a different life blinds you from how bad these people really are, their underlying motives and morals, their similarities to the Port Mafia executives.

The guild is ambitious, their leader most of all. They have a turf and the turf is way bigger than the Port Mafia’s, something you’re proud about. You certainly feel better about this place than the Port Mafia.

Your sadistic personality never changes either, and while the others are certainly annoyed by it, they handle it in a different way. They make sure you know that you can’t hurt them severely, or there’ll be repercussions. Maybe not repercussions from the Guild’s rules, but them hurting you back. It’s a nice change, one that gets your adrenaline pumping every time you pick a fight.

The only time you did think of him was in your nightmares, the middle of the night. Those nightmares consisted of him calling you a traitor, betrayer, but that wasn’t what hurt you. They played out scenarios of you telling Dazai.

He’d kiss you, hold you tight, ask you where you’d been, question the new stitches and scars… and then you’d tell him.

His face would be ridden with denial. “No. No you couldn’t have! You’re joking, you’re lying!” He laughs, tries to believe it’s a joke, but he can’t get it out of his head that it isn’t.

“It’s not.”

It’s then that he lets out a sob. He trembles, pushes you away from him, looks you in the eye with a look full of betrayal. It’s then that he calls you names, which stated before aren’t what hurts you. It’s how he looks and what he says next that hurts the most, “I thought you loved me.”

That’s when the nightmare ends. You wake up with tears of your own, they’re hot and sting on your cheeks. You furiously wipe them away, but more keep coming.

You sob loudly, which wakes up John and Lucy. They’re the only ones you’ve trusted with your secret, Dazai. They comfort you the best they can but the most they can do is tell you it’s going to be okay or something along those lines. As much as you try to believe them, you can’t.

Dazai becomes a mere figure of your past. You think of him as unreachable, unattainable, as something you should scold yourself for thinking about.

If you could’ve taken him with you, you would’ve.

Learning that you will go back to Japan because of the leader’s obsession with a ‘tiger’ almost breaks you like your ability would.

You hadn’t thought about Dazai nightmares in the past year, but now you remember him again. You begin to regret leaving him, your heart aches again and your nightmares act up again. Everything gets worse when you arrive in Japan.

War breaks out between 3 organizations but the only thing you can think of is the Port Mafia. It’d been 6 years. Could he still remember you?

You don’t care who wins, you just want this whole thing to be over with. It upsets your ‘teammates’, but you don’t care. Once again, you think about leaving the organization, maybe live a normal life. That sort of life feels far-fetched right now and you know it’s something you’ll never have the chance to achieve. But still, you hope for it.

But then you see him again.

The second your eyes land on him you want to run. His eyes land on you and they must look the same as yours.

It hurts, but you have to persevere. “Hey, Lovecraft?” You glance at the man with the strange ability and appearance. “You want to go sleep, right?” You let out a mocking yawn of your own, giving the two in front of you your signature sickly smile.

“Yes.” Lovecraft replies, voice monotone and deep as always.

“Go get John and leave, get to sleep faster.” You nod in the direction you’d seen Chūya knock John towards. Your eyes stayed on the two in front of you. They both act as if they’d never seen you before, which you’re glad for. You don’t know if you could’ve handled seeing the same look Dazai would give you in your nightmares.

“But Francis and... you.” You’d like to think you’d gotten close to Lovecraft, but really he treated everybody the same because of his ‘contract’ with Francis.

“I’ll be fine. I know these guys’ weaknesses, anyway.” He doesn’t question how you do nor does he protest further and leaves immediately. “Quite the reunion, huh?”

“(y/n)..” Chūya growls. He glares at you, something you’d never seen 6 years ago as his senior executive. He never dared to interact with you. He knew he’d be replacing you as Dazai’s partner and knew about your relationship together. If anything, it was out of pity, and that you hated.

“Chūya.” You reply. “How’s the family, the mafia, the kids?” You mock. Chūya all but seethes, he looks like he’s ready to strike.

“(y/n),” Once Lovecraft is gone, Dazai gives you the look you dreaded to see. “H-How--” He doesn’t know what to say and neither do you. Your smile fades, turns into a frown. You don’t want to fight him but you also don’t want him to take on Lovecraft. As much as you liked the guy, he was a nightmare incarnate.

“Dazai.” Is all that you say. The vague response hurts you both.

“Chūya you might want to do that here.”

Chūya looks back at Dazai, shocked and taken aback. “You want me to do that? Dazai, I don’t think that’s needed and you know how shit that makes me feel.” It’s clear he doesn’t want to give into his corruption.

“You shouldn’t underestimate him.” Dazai speaks with experience, and it hurts you to know that he knows that.

“Don’t hurt him too much, we’re dating.”

“You’re still dating?!”

“Technically we never broke up!”

You laugh, staring at the limp body next to you. Chūya is deep asleep, or knocked out, you don’t know. You never really saw the aftermath of his corruption.

“That was a nice fight.” You remark, loud enough for Dazai to hear despite how weak you feel. Chūya had basically broken both your legs and injured you, but at least he hadn’t killed you or put you into a coma. The pain was unbearable for most people, but it was a simple background thought for you.

“It’s been…” Dazai starts.

“6 years.” You finish for him.

“I missed you.” You’re glad to hear that instead of the words from your nightmares, but you’re sure those words will eventually come.

“I did too.”

“You did?”

You sigh, nodding. “There were plenty of errands I had to run around and do for Francis. That rich old guy didn’t do anything himself. I didn’t think much of you, but I never forgot you. I had my own fair share of nightmares about you, they’re all the same.”

Dazai moves you to lean against the bark of a tree. You look into each other’s eyes, and you can tell that his are pleading. “Please stay.”

You ignore his remark, weakly reaching over to feel his coat. “New coat?”

“Yes.” Dazai grumbles, sitting down next to you cross legged. “Answer me.” He pleads again.

“You don’t want to know why I left, first?” Dazai shakes his head, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, prompting a pained groan from you. He quickly apologizes for it.

“I don’t know if I can.” You sigh, rubbing the back of his hand. You were quite touch starved, seeing as you couldn't really hold or touch anything properly. “If Francis wins I’d have to stay with him. If either of you win, I’ll most likely end up in prison.”

“Join me.”

You think back to the Guild. They were inviting and you thought them to be good, but just then did you think about how bad they really were. You’d known all along but you always refused to believe it. You wanted to be there just to escape the Mafia, you never wanted to be there because it was the guild.

“What was it… the Armed Detective Agency?” He nods. “How would that stop me from going to prison?”

“I don’t know.” Dazai admits with a huff. “Just.. please stay.”

“Okay.” You smile at him. Dazai remembers that smile, it’s burned into his memory and he takes note of how it hasn’t changed a bit. He’s missed it ever since you left. “Would they accept me, though?”

“They will, they will.” He says it as if he were determined, but he knows there’s a high chance they’ll refuse.

Dazai pulls you into a much deserved kiss. Long, gentle, sweet, and full of fireworks, it’s almost like your first. The only thing is it’s a little weak on your end, but he can’t blame you.

“Not going to mention sucide?”

“I haven’t seen you in 6 years, at least let me cherish this for another 2 months.”

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward :: brat Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu  Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: you finally see Miya Atsumu after six years, meanwhile, he feels pain when he realizes that you settled down with someone else that wasn’t him. notes: i um want to thank yall for supporting this story im- crying T-T I’m happy to inform everyone that i’ll be updating this twice a week every monday and saturday! yay!!! i was able to finish editing and im writing the last two chapters now. stay safe and big love to each and everyone of you <3

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“...Uh, Youta-Kun, Yuuto-kun, I thought you guys weren’t allowed to go.” Sugawara laughed nervously, knowing all too well where this would lead. He’s familiar with over-enthusiastic boys, in fact, one of those over-enthusiastic balls of sunshine was here right now entertaining them.

“K-Kaasan says it’s alright.” Yuuto lies but Sugawara quirked his brow, it was so obvious that he was lying.

“Yep, she did!” Youta grins, trying to help his twin but like him, he’s failing drastically.

“Then you won’t mind if I call your okaasa-”

“No!” Youta and Yuuto yell in unison. This made other people turn their way, Miya Atsumu watched the pair in amusement from afar. He noticed that they were late and that Sugawara had caught on to their scheme of joining in even without the parental consent, “We won’t join!” Youta proclaims, “Right, yu? W-We’ll pick up balls!”

Hinata feels his eyes glimmer at those words and decides to help them convince Sugawara but in the end, the twins were forced to be benched while the grey-haired teacher had to go back to the faculty to call you.

“It’s alright,” Hinata ruffles both their hairs, “We’ll try to come back next time and I’ll be sure to help convince your ‘kaasan.”

“Hey don’t plant false ideas in their head, Shoyou.” Atsumu grins, lazily jogging to their side. He directs his gaze to the twins that seem to oddly remind him of him and ‘samu when they were younger. The boy's gaze lingered a bit too long on him,unlike other kids who stared at him in awe, these ones were seething, “What are ya lookin’ at, kid?”

“Wow,you’re as mean as your brother.” Yuuto notes, eyeing him up and down. 

“Yeah.” Youta echoes.

Atsumu quirks a brow, this was quite the new reaction. Never in his life had a kid told him that he was mean as ‘Samu also how did they even know his twin brother?

“Now, now, don’t you think you should cut me some slack?” Atsumu tried to jokebut the twins remained unamused by the blonde’s antics, somehow Atsumu felt a sense of familiarity from their monotonous reactions.

“No thanks.” Yuuto crossed his arms, “The fake Atsumu made ‘kaasan cry and since you look like him, you might make ‘kaasan cry too.”

“What he said!” Youta agreed loudly, copying his older brother’s action.

Atsumu was just plain confused now, he admitted that Osamu had an attitude sometimes when he was annoyed but letting a mom cry in front of her kids? That’s definitely new and not-so ‘samu like (after all, he was apparently the nicer one between them)

“What’s the name of your okaasan-”

“Youta-Kun, Yuuto-kun, Your mom will be picking you up at the gate! Please go there now.” Sugawara cuts him off, Youta and Yuuto stand up and eye him for a bit.

“We’ll defeat you and your brother! Just wait and see, we’ll be as big as you and that other jiji!” Yuuto exclaims and before Atsumu could retaliate, they’re running off to the opposite direction. Hinata was laughing beside him, clutching his sides because apparently he was too petty while Sugawara looked at him with an apologetic expression.

“I wonder why L/N-san didn’t allow them to go, she’s usually very supportive of their hobbies, especially volleyball.” Sugawara frowns, suddenly voicing out his thoughts. Atsumu felt his shoulders stiffen at the sound of that familiar name. 

Osamu revealed he saw you last week then these kids suddenly confessed that his twin made their okaasan cry, he’s never seen you cry throughout your relationship (save for that night when you first me but you guys weren't together yet so that didn’t count). Maybe he was mistaken? it might be your relative or a common name.

After all, you were clear about not wanting a family.

“You know their mom well?” Hinata inquired,  Atsumu seems to be listening closely now, wanting to confirm if the person that Sugawara was talking about is you.

“Oh yeah, we're around the same age so I’m much closer to her than the other moms.” Sugawara blinks, “Those boys have to listen to their okaasan more. She’s raising them on her own since their dad died before he even got to know that L/N-san was pregnant. She seemed to be longing for him whenever he’s mentioned.”

A crease appeared on the blonde's forehead as he was suddenly in deep thought. It couldn’t be, right?

“Uh, Sugawara-san, may I know the name of the mom? Her last name sounds kind of familiar.” he questions, pretending to be nonchalant but inside, he feels like he had his heart on his throat.

If it was you, he’d feel those things that he desperately tried to hide behind his confident jokes and laughs. 

The pain.

The pain that you chose someone else and was open enough to the idea of starting a family. If that guy probably hadn’t died, you’d be together, happily raising those boys he had just met a while ago. Happily married, something that Atsumu tried to mention one fleeting moment while you were together back in college but you immediately shut the idea down and left him a month later.

The pain that you fell in love in a span of moments unlike Atsumu who relentlessly tried to gain your favour and follow you around like a lost puppy.

“Oh, her name’s Y/N L/N.”

Thankfully nothing unexpected happened after what the twins did, they ended up having to pick if they wanted their video game rights removed for a week or cancel their plans with their favorite ojisan who was coming by a few weeks from now, they chose the first one on that.

They had even mentioned that they met the real Miya Atsumu and although you felt like your heart lurched out of your chest and your shoulders stiffen at the mention of that man --- their father---  they simply had called him a rude jiji like his brother much to your relief.

“L/N-san, we seem to have a problem.” Aiko frowned, handing the papers to you, “The director of the advertisement department wants a bigger budget, do you mind running it through him again? You have to go to the studio though, I heard they’re doing some photo shoot now.”

You nodded in reply, taking the papers from your co-worker. The studio was a bit far so you ended up having to commute to get there, “What a nuisance.” You muttered, you needed to buy a second-hand car soon when you had enough money. It would definitely be easier for both you and the boys, “Uh excuse me? Is Nakamura-san here?” you asked the secretary on the front desk.

“And who are you?” the secretary snapped back, still typing away on her computer.

“Y/N L/N from the finance department, I have to run through the new budget liquidation with him.”

The secretary one-eyes you and the ID on your neck for a split second, “You better be quick, the boss wants only five minutes per guest since he’s personally handling the shoot today.” was all she replied, handing you the pass. You muttered a quick thank you and made your way up to the studio, whoever the model was today, they must’ve been big for Nakamura to handle them personally.

“Oh-ho, is that who I think it is?” a very, very familiar voice calls out.

“Inunaki-san.” You greeted, trying to maintain yourself, were these the big clients that Nakamura was handling? The black jackals? good fucking gracious, god must hate you.

“Wow,” he shakes his head, feigning amusement, “You’re still so calm and cool.”

You narrowed your eyes at the insult but you waved it off, “And you’re playing for a national team, congratulations.” you replied in a blank tone, your senior probably knew what happened between you and his fellow member. You wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he reacted the same way as Osamu did.

“We’re actually doing a shoot now, would you like me to call Atsu-”

“No.” your usual calm tone switched to a colder one, “I’m working now and so is Miya-san, please don’t bother yourself.”

“Gee,” he raised his hands, signalling defeat, “Just say you don’t want to see him. You don’t need to be so cold to me, my dear little kohai.”

“I have to go back to my job, I’m on the clock here.” You ignored his previous statement, “It was nice seeing you again Inunaki-san.”

Before you could give him a chance to reply, you headed towards the studio. You took a deep breath and mentally calculated to three.

one. 

It’s been six years, Miya Atsumu would ignore you. He wouldn’t care about the girl who left him out to dry in college. He’s got a girlfriend now, a model who has legs for days and looks ten times better than you and acts more like a girlfriend than you ever did.

two.

Yes, that’s right, he wouldn’t care.

three.

You entered the studio, you could feel the air tighten around you as soon as you heard that laughter. The one you used to hear everyday and never get tired of. For all the laughs you couldn’t do, he’d do it for you and boy, was he patient around you since you didn’t smile a lot back then (who were you kidding? until now you still had the same problem except when the kids were around)

You want to stop and stare, you want to admire him and his glory that you were very much proud of.

Yet your legs continue to carry you to your boss, the laughter seems to have ceased and you could hear someone asking him what was wrong.

“Oh, L/N-san?” Nakamura greeted you, “You’re here for the renewal of the budget?”

You nodded feverishly, your legs seem to be turning into jelly because you want to collapse from the nervousness and thank god that you wore some make-up before arriving here, otherwise, they would’ve noticed how pale you looked, “Everything seems to be in order,” He nods, scanning the sheets and handing them back to you, “Are you busy right now?”

You glanced at the wall clock, checking the time to see if you could extend your stay and Nakamura is quick to pick up on it, “Ah right, you’ve got kids to pick up. It’ll be quick, just help set up the blocks there and you’re free to leave.” he orders.

You nodded obediently and slowly turned to the side only to catch the very familiar chocolate brown eyes of the blonde. You feel your heart hammering in your chest and your feet turn cold, it had been six years since you last saw Miya Atsumu and he was still as winsome and exhilarating as he was back then.

You may have seen him a lot on television but seeing him, right here, a few feet away from you was different. Taking in a big gulp of air, you started working on the set-up as quickly as you could yet you could still feel his burning gaze remaining on you, “Tsum-tsum, lay off her will you.” came Inunaki Shion’s loud voice snaps him out of his daze.

Great, that little twat had to make an appearance.

“Y/N-san you should really say hi,” Inunaki teased as soon as you finish your set-up.

“Oh? You’re Y/N L/N?” the orange one gushed, quickly up on his feet, you recall him as Hinata Shoyou, Youta’s favorite orange-haired ninja, “Sugawara-san’s friend?” 

You hesitantly nodded, “Oh, you know her Sho-kun?” Shion asked, seemingly amused by it all.

“What are you all crowding here for, Hinata?” Another asked, peering in them closely. This one must’ve been Bokuto, another favorite of Yuuto.

“Sugawara-san’s friend! she’s the mother of those two boys in the training camp who had to go home early!” he suddenly turns to you and then grins, “Ne, ne, the boys really seem to want to attend one of those. Why don’t you allow them to join us-”

“Forget it, Hinata.” Atsumu suddenly speaks out, that warm voice that you were accustomed to seemed cold and menacing now, “She won’t allow it.”

Shion notices the tension between you two and when he’s about to usher the energetic duo away back to the dressing room along with the other members, you let out a quiet sigh and spoke out, “I was on my way to leave, please don’t bother yourselves.” You simply replied, you didn’t waver and stared at him dead in the eye, this could be the moment to end it all and cut ties with him officially, “I apologize for what I did back then, Miya-san. I should’ve told it to you in person. I offer my sincere congratulations to you for making it this far.”

The blonde clenched his jaw, it seemed like he wanted to say something to you yet when he realizes the usual calm and collected demeanor you're putting up, he decides against it and leaves you alone by storming away first.

Hinata and the guy named Bokuto looked at you --- completely puzzled and lost like a deer in the headlights --- before following the blonde, “You truly are in a whole ‘nuther level, Y/N.” Shion whistles, “Heard you’ve got two boys now though. Congrats, where's the poor bastard?”

You continue to watch the back of Atsumu Miya. Finally, it seemed like he’d left you alone and probably for good this time, “Gone, off to a better place.” was all you replied.

Inunaki notices the longing in your voice, a completely unfamiliar emotion he had never seen back then even when you and Atsumu were together. It seemed like you and Atsumu were both the poor bastards in the end.

Miya Atsumu sleeps alone that night.

He doesn’t call his girlfriend back despite the several missed calls, he doesn’t reply to the unanswered text of his brother and his teammates. All he feels is pain tonight, pain because of your very dry apology, pain because of your bland expression. Pain because you didn’t seem to care like that time six years ago.

He shuts his eyes tight and he feels as if he’s back in college, back to that winter night where he received that dreaded phone call from you after you disappeared from him. He remembered those days clearly, your apartment had been cleaned out and paid for, you weren’t answering him on social media, your phone line was also unresponsive and he couldn’t even call your family since you never mentioned anything about them at all.

You both may have been intimate for the past two years but when you disappeared, he had the frightening realization that he didn’t know you at all.

He didn’t want to push you out of your comfort zone, he wanted you to lead the relationship but right at that moment, he wished he pried just a bit since he was worried about you.

Then in the midst of his anxiety, it came, that phone call.

“Atsumu.” your usual calm voice filled his ears and he suddenly feels the weight of the world is removed from his shoulders, thank god you were okay.

“Y/N? Baby? Where are you?”

“Out.”

“Where outside exactly?” Miya Atsumu dryly asks, “It’s cold, you shouldn’t be out now and wandering about. Would you like me to pick you up-”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you suddenly cut him off and the line goes quiet. The blonde feels the world around him quiet down too when he hears those words that he wished he heard wrong.

“What’s, what’s wrong? Y/N, are you alright?” 

“I don’t know,” You mutter, “I’m just tired.”

“Tired of what exactly?”

“Of you, of us…”

“Y/N, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“Yes.” Your voice remained dead calm as if you just hadn’t broken his heart in a million pieces that moment, “Let’s stop this here now, Atsumu. Let’s break-up.”

“That’s…” He tries to keep the mood light, praying that this is one of your dark jokes, “That’s not funny, Y/N.”

“It’s not supposed to be since it’s not a joke.”

Your response was curt as usual and he doesn’t know whats worse, the fact that you’re breaking up over the phone or the fact that your tone remains stable and the same.

“Y/N, don’t do this...Baby don’t do this over the phone.” His tone seemed desperate at this point, “I’m not stopping this until you tell me what's wrong between us, you have to give me something to work with Y/N. Is it something I did?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ya don’t know?” Atsumu started to raise his tone when he notices how unaffected you seem at the other line.Frustration slowly started to bubble in him, the accent turning thicker as he got angrier, “Y/N ya can’t just disappear out of the blue and call me one day and tell me you want to break up! Do you think I’m some sort of fling? Some one-night stand or fuck buddies? We’ve been together for two years, Y/N. Two whole fucking years, What’s wrong? Do you not love me anymore?”

“Yes.”

The line went dead silent again and he hates it, he doesn’t know what to say as his face contorts in sadness and confusion. 

“I don’t…” He starts to feel a lump grow on his throat when he hears how easy it was for you to say, he knew he was in love with you more than you were with him. Many had pointed out how dangerous and how painful it would be on his side in the end, he couldn’t believe it would hurt him this much, “ I don’t fucking believe you, say it right at my face. Where the hell are ya? Let’s talk this one out in person.”

“Don’t bother, I just don’t want to see you again.”

“Y/N you can’t just-”

“I can and I will.” You cut him off, your voice was growing more and more detached and he feels like he’s back to that moment two years ago where you didn’t spare him a glance and treated him like a scrub, he hears a hefty sigh on your side and the next few words is another bullet to his heart, “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Atsumu.”

“You…” he shakily replied, trying to mask his grief with a painful chuckle. He wants to be mad at you, he wants to yell at you but for some odd reason, he couldn’t bring himself to,  “Jesus christ, you really are something, Y/N. You just broke my heart over the the fucking phone and all you could do is say sorry?”

“Sorry.” you say, like a broken-record on repeat and he hates it. He hates how he feels like this was nothing for you.

“Don’t you dare say that again when you don’t mean it-” He spat and before he could finish what he had to say, the phone line went dead. He tried to call again but it seemed like you had used a payphone. Out of complete vexation, he hurls his phone right across the room towards the blue photo frame with the both of you in it.

The sound of broken glass shards and ragged breathing is the only thing heard in the quiet apartment.

It’s not even the peak of winter that night yet he feels so numb and cold.

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@fortheloveofiwaizumi​ ;  @svtbitch ; @ryaaaax ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan​ ; @Etherynaw ; @volleybloop​ ; @imcravingyou​ ;

[hufflautia]

The Small but Quaint Room in the West Wing

Requested by @dreamerinthesun✨(2/2)

A/N: I titled this one because this is a full-sized fic and I really really like it. Even though I said I'd write a drabble or a ficlet for each request and keep it short and sweet. And then I go and write a whole ass fic. I knew this was gonna happen, it always does. ENJOY!

026: "People are jerks, but not you."

Slytherin ran into a room on the West Wing and shut the door behind her. She listened as footsteps stomped through the hall, holding her breath when someone stopped in front of the door.

"When we find Lestrange, I wanna be the one to hex her," the person said. Slytherin scowled when she realized who it was. Ehione, she thought bitterly. You couldn't hex me if you tried.

"And who exactly are you going to hex, Ms. Ephyx?" an ancient but firm voice said.

Slytherin immediately recognized the voice and winced. She was glad she was behind this door and not out in the hall.

"Professor McGonagall," Ehione stuttered. "You must've misheard, I said vex, not hex!"

Slytherin held back a snicker - she could envision McGonagall's reaction right now: an eyebrow raised, lips pressed together tightly.

McGonagall clearly didn't fall for her bullshit because the next thing she said was, "10 points from Gryffindor. Now come with me, Ms. Ephyx. And the rest of you, get back to your classes before I give you detention too."

"Too?" Ehione fumed. "Why am I getting detention? Slytherin should be the one getting detention, she cast the Leek jinx spell on me!"

Only because you were talking shit about my family! Slytherin thought angrily.

"Yes, Ms. Ephyx, I can clearly see that," McGonagall sighed. "Now please come with me, we need to get you to the Hospital Wing. If you aren't given the counteract potion soon, you could have leeks stuck in your ears permanently."

Slytherin bit her tongue to stop herself from bursting out in laughter and giving up her hidden spot. What a sight, she thought, imagining Ehione walking around with leeks in her ears for the rest of the school year.

Slytherin let out a small breath of relief when the footsteps began to fade away. She walked up the steps and towards the spot next to the window, the place she always sat when she came to this room.

^Visual of what the room looks like. ALSO DOES ANYONE RECOGNIZE THIS PIC ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

She gazed upon the Whomping Willow in the distance, deep in thought. It wasn't that she liked getting in trouble. The jinx just happened to spill from her lips when she overheard Ehione talking badly about her family. That prick deserved it anyway.

Slytherin stiffened when she heard the creak of the door and whipped out her wand, lowering it when she caught sight of the intruder. Well, maybe not intruder, per se. Hufflepuff sometimes came to this room too. While Slytherin used this place as a quiet room to think, Hufflepuff used it as a space to hang freely with his creatures. They found this room on their own but had never been there at the same time until one day when Slytherin found him sitting on her spot the day that they first encountered each other. She was a bit irked - after all, it felt like her sacred spot, and to have someone sit on it was...well, annoying. But soon after he chose a seat somewhere else, she warmed up to him; he had a quiet nature and sometimes would show her the creatures he was caring for, and that always put a smile on her face. Though Slytherin would never admit it, there were days in which she walked towards the small but quaint room in the West Wing with a spring to her step, looking forward to sitting next to the window with him and escaping their worries.

But today was not one of those days.

A crooked smile hung on Hufflepuff's lips when they met eyes. Slytherin wasn't in the mood to smile back, so she looked away.

"Hello," Hufflepuff said, taking a seat on the floor across from her.

"Hi."

Slytherin could feel his eyes on her and met his curious gaze with a glare. "What?"

Hufflepuff shook his head and looked away.

"Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes but decided not to press him further. She didn't wanna drive her one friend away. Could she even call him that? She certainly hoped he considered her his friend. She's snapped at him on more than one occasion, but it was never because of him. It's just that she usually came to this room when she was in a bad mood and she needed a place to think. But time and time again, he never snapped back. He just took it. And not in a "use me as your punching buddy" kind of way. It was like he understood.

"People are jerks," she said quietly. "But not you." Never you. "Why is that?"

He scrunched up his nose. "Are you asking me why I'm not a jerk?"

Slytherin would've cracked a smile if she weren't feeling like complete shit. "I'm rude to you, but you never talk back. You don't get angry with me when I'm testing your temper. Why? Someone with common sense wouldn't want to hang out with someone who's mean to them."

Hufflepuff stared at a spot on the wall in thought as Slytherin awaited his response nervously. Why did I say that? I basically told him, "Hey, it would be in your best interest not to be friends with me anymore"—

"I don't think you're mean." Hufflepuff meets her surprised gaze. "I know that you come here because this is a place for you to vent and calm down. Sometimes you take your anger out on me, but I know it's because of whatever you have going on, so I try not to take it personal. You're just angry. But not always. When you're in a good mood, you're funny and witty. And you're also my friend. So why wouldn't I want to hang out with you?"

Slytherin swallowed with difficulty. That was a lot to take in. Not only did he just admit that, yes, he considered her his friend, but he also knew her. He understood.

Hufflepuff seemed to sense that she was at a loss for words, so he pulled something from his pocket and presented it to her. Slytherin smiled and gingerly took the Niffler from him, her fingers brushing against the palm of his hand.

"How's the little guy doing?" she cooed, running her finger over the Niffler's fur as he scurried across her robe, searching for anything shiny. "Caused any mischief lately?"

"Unfortunately so," Hufflepuff sighed dramatically, his bright eyes betraying his mock annoyance. "He stole Slughorn's watch the other way. This little minx would've gotten me into detention if I hadn't stopped him and returned it without Slughorn noticing."

Slytherin hummed, watching as the Niffler tried to pull her house crest off her robe. She pulled him off and looked puzzled when she felt something in his pouch. "What's this?"

Hufflepuff frowned and took the Niffler back, eyeing the creature when he felt it too.

"What'd you take," he said lowly, to which the Niffler looked at him with a smile and a gleam in his eye. He arched an eyebrow and turned him upside down, shaking out the contents of his pouch.

Slytherin's eyes widened as Galleons and other golden items poured onto the floor. Watches, necklaces, and earrings scattered on the ground. Hufflepuff looked aghast while Slytherin doubled-over laughing.

"Where in the blazes did you get that?!" Hufflepuff demanded. "Now we have to find out what belongs to who and return it to them!"

Slytherin wiped at her watery eyes and said between laughs, "Don't worry, I'll help you."

Hufflepuff glanced at her and felt a laugh of his own bubbling in his chest. When a situation as ridiculous as this came along once in a lifetime, one couldn't help but laugh. And that's exactly what they did. They laughed their worries away in this small but quaint room on the West Wing.

Fin.

~

DID SOMEONE SAY LETA LESTRANGE AND NEWT SCAMANDER😩😩 Also did the bit about the "this is MY special spot" remind anyone of the tree spot in the slytherpuff series??

This is by far my favorite request - I didn't expect this to be so wholesome and cute. Hope you enjoyeddddddd<4!

~

In honor of this blog’s one-year anniversary, I am taking requests! Pick from these prompts:

Fluff | Fluff, Angst, or Smut | Fluff or Angst | Smut | More Smut | Angst

[mybg3notebook]

The Party Scene

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

In these “scene posts” I will explore the scene of the title looking for the information in the dialogues. What I will be looking for is how much Gale “lies”, how much lore is provided, and any extra detail that may be of our interest to highlight. At the end of these posts there are summary points for those who don't want to read the whole post.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in this (post) while disclaimers about Context in this (one).

The party scene, I personally think, needs plenty of polishing. The fact that many characters can have a "jealous" behaviour towards Tav no matter their approval looks suspicious to me. Gale's case is even weirder because if Tav did not romanced him at all, Gale will still share those judgemental comments that seem to come from jealousy, as well as strange dialogue options about “being a bad loser” when the context is not romantic at all. This would make some sense—to a certain extent—if Tav romanced him, but if Tav locked him as a friend, it has no purpose. Especially if Tav explores the option of suggesting him to spend the night together, which ends with Gale rejecting the situation because "they are just good companions" after such display of incoherent jealousy coming from a char who values privacy (and therefore would not meddle into Tav's personal affairs). It seems to contradict his character and therefore, it makes me suspect that the whole party scene is just very raw and unpolished in general. 

As I said, the party interaction is very confusing since it doesn't follow the relationship context created by Tav, and in Gale's case looks inconsistent with his char as well, inviting a strong misinterpretations of his character (this is probably a consequence of the decision of making Gale part of EA in the last moment). So this scene analysis may be a bit messy since the scenes are messy too (hence this post's length. I'm sorry). 

Whether Gale was locked into friendship or romance, Gale drops his famous line: 

As they say in Waterdeep: In wine there is truth. That's usually followed by: In water there is good sense. Good sense will have to wait till the morrow.

A great warning line from a narrative point of view: he is basically saying that what will be shared that day under the effect of wine is true, but it certainly won't be "good sense".

In a friendship path, he would not want to waste Tav's time any longer, and will bid them a good night while promising a bed-story the next day. In that case, the wine line could be interpreted as the final decision of a confession that will happen the next day: Gale has finally reached a degree of trust in Tav that gives him enough courage to finally speak about the details of the "orb" (and I emphasise details because in broader aspect, he already shared what's most important: the "orb" in his chest is a dangerous thing. If Tav assisted with his death protocol, this is undeniable by now, unless Tav allowed him to keep his privacy). 

In a romantic path, this wine line could be interpreted as the decision of inviting Tav to share a night, and explaining the details in the morning, the “good sense”. After the wine phrase, we have other piece of prose in which Gale describes a book that it's a bit more than a sexual book:

Gale: Allow me to make the following proposition: there is a book that circulates in Amn, detailing the first thousand nights of a newly-wed king and queen. They turned everything they did into an art. The art of conversation. The art of taste, time honoured and newly acquired. The art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. The art of the night itself. I say we take a page from their book. 

Considering that Gale is not only a verbose char, but also a poet and a scholar, the enumeration of the concepts in the description of the book speaks a lot in my opinion. Gale is not inviting Tav to a night of sex (let's remember he never uses that word in EA) but to a deeper degree of "intimacy", as he calls it. There is a lot more involved in what he asks for: confessions in the art of conversation, pleasures in the art of the body, and, hopefully, acceptance. For Gale, acceptance is a big deal: it’s not by chance that he left it last in the enumeration, summarising the whole concepts with the "art of the night". Gale is truly eager to access these concepts, and in doing so, I personally believe he shows a fair level of naivety on this matter. It seems (especially later with his unpolished arguments in the morning) he felt he needed this level of intimacy—of acceptance first—so he could speak the details openly. He wants to have this night before any confession because he thinks that it would allow him to acquire something that would prevent the abandonment that he viscerally fears: acceptance.

Any of the options taken by Tav keeps showing his eagerness. He wants this to happen in whatever terms Tav desires: as a brand new experience (“blank slates on blank sheets”) or with the promise of commitment (writing the prequel of a newly-wed couple). Or if Tav romanced Gale and then chose to spend the night with another companion, Gale will still insist in sleeping together, showing he was open for Tav to have casual sex as long as the "commitment" part would be established with him. This is reinforced by the fact that, if Tav never shared the Weave with Gale, there is no way to sleep with him: Gale is not a character for one-stand nights. He craves for deep connection, for commitment, in whatever fashion he can get it. Mystra taught him not to ask about exclusivity after all.

Gale is so desperate to have this deep connection that if Tav doubts about spending the night with him, he will drop a line which can trigger an alarm in the player:

Tav: I'm not sure you're the one I want. Gale: That's because you've yet to find out what you're missing. Doubt is a spoilsport. Cast it aside.

Gale, the scholar, the one who kept encouraging Tav to doubt and to think critically about everything, suggests to dismiss doubts. Once more we see he needs this to happen. Some players interpret this as manipulation as well. I personally think this also says something else in Gale: since the dev's notes show no second intentions in the only two scenes where dev's notes existed, and instead, they display how much fear Gale has for a second abandonment, Gale is showing here his inexperience with relationships as well as a constant fear for abandonment.

Gale is looking for commitment, for something that can last longer than Mystra's affair did: he wants something solid, but his inexperience in this field made him "acquire" knowledge of how things should work via romanticized means such as books and poetry. In his mind, the acceptance he needs can only be acquired due to the "art of the night", very well detailed in this book he describes. 

It's true that, all this part, if we completely ignore the narrative weight that the book has for a book-based character such as Gale, can be interpreted as Gale manipulating Tav to have sex alone; desperate to obtain it, doing everything in order to get it. We can also see the description of the book as a “bait”, as some people do. It's a valid interpretation, especially for a Tav who respected Gale's privacy during the Loss Scene and the protocol, so that Tav has no information with which to connect the dots. But I personally find it an over-magnification to see him as a "mastermind of manipulation". The few dev's notes we have about Gale seem to confirm that nothing shadier than his “orb” despair and his fear for abandonment are going on. These fears are constantly echoing in his mind, and they are, as I said in other posts, the main reasons why he becomes emotional and prone to make mistakes. 

Is this action manipulative? It can be seen as “withholding information” by any Tav who didn't push him to explain, otherwise, all the information in a general way has been offered already and there is no withholding at all. Is Gale a manipulative character? In EA we don't see a pattern of that behaviour to qualify him as such. He has been quite honest, explaining in all scenes what he can say and what he cannot, drawing his boundaries clean and clear. We saw him struggling with the explanation of what he lost. The few Dev's notes reinforce mainly his fear for abandonment, lacking any manipulative behaviour behind his actions. His pattern, in my opinion, is that he tends to make mistakes in his emotional state, which is mostly triggered by the “orb” and the concept of “abandonment”. Not so much with Mystra per ser. He seems to be nostalgic but more aware of what loving a God causes (his regret is explicit during the conversation of Karsus). He is quite done with "her love as a lover", but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be forgiven nor he doesn't love her as the essence of Magic itself. More details in the post of "Mystra and her Chosen ones".

After the party, Tav can have a romantic conversation before the sex “intimacy” or can reject the chance. What seems incoherent in this part is when Tav is not in the mood for sex, and Gale simply cuts off the situation. He is a character who craves connection and intimacy, and pretty much like Wyll, he needs a bond before stepping into romance. To waste a night of celebration that could be used to share any other level of intimacy (let's say, talking? The man clearly LOVES to talk) seems strange. If this reaction is truly meant to be in the game, it would seem that he certainly was more desperate for sex than what all the previous scenes hinted, but in that case it would have done little sense to leave the tale of the wizard for the next night. Gale already knew Tav did not want to have sex, so no point in delaying the explanation of the details. I personally suspect these incoherences are a consequence of Gale being added into EA at the last moment, making him more “shadier” than he is meant to be. 

To justify my opinion that this seems to be an unpolished scene: if Gale is not romanced, and conditions are given, Lae'Zel will spend the night with him, talking. Why would Gale prefer to share a night of talks with a companion with whom he had not the Weave connection before, but he won't do it with a Tav who shared it? I see some incongruence here, probably as the result of being added into the EA in a rush. His scenes are less polished and much more messier than the other companions' (certainly not more than Wyll, though) and his bugs and triggering priority show it. 

This part is also seen as "coercive" by some players:

Tav: I’m sorry, but I actually don’t think I can do this. I’m just not in the mood. Gale: Not even a simple kiss would change your mind? Tav: No, it wouldn’t.

Tav: Maybe a kiss was enough Gale: Are you sure? One kiss is like one chord in an entire symphony. It begs for more.

Gale: (disapproval) What a pity. One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest. Before we part.. I know there are many things about me that remain shrouded in mystery. You’ve been very patient with me, and I appreciate that. You’ve brought me back from the grey shores of death. You know of my condition, and you know about my unfortunate efforts to win Mystra’s favour, but those are but the broad strokes. The time has come to paint you the true picture. So come find me another night, yes? No kisses, just words. (Leaves)

Asking seems to be coercive for some people just because there is a disapproval. I personally separate very clearly what Tav sees and receives as information from the NPCs and what I, the player, do. Tav should react to what they see, but the player is having a “meta-knowledge” of the situation with the info of the narrator and the approval system. The player knows Gale is disappointed in not having intimacy now, and he expresses it. Then he behaves completely natural, and continues talking (of course) about what he will explain about in the following morning (I don't understand what impedes him to say it in that moment: is it the wine? He fears his charisma checks are at a disadvantage due to the wine? Is it just a reflection of the rush in which he was added to the game? We will see in the full release. To me it looks inconsistent.)

Anyways. The scene continues in the early morning or simply the next night depending on what option Tav picked. Here, Gale presents the details of the revelation: “It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is a story of a man who fell in love with a goddess.”

Tav: You're really about to tell me about another lover? What's wrong with you? Gale :I couldn’t do it before. I couldn’t ruin the chance for us to happen. You were there. How could I say no to you? Dev's notes: Gale revealed he was in love with Mystra. He tells this the morning after. Understandably, the player can react negatively to his timing. He tries to explain himself. 

This line clearly shows that there was an intention in hiding the relationship he had with Mystra, which it's an “answer long overdue” (is it?). Now, some players consider this the proof of Gale's manipulations; the greatest betrayal, because people are entitled to know all the details of their partner's past before sleeping with them. Other players consider that it's in poor taste to disclose this exactly the morning after sharing the night with Gale. And I agree. However, I see a scene with a lot of over-magnifications and making things more problematic than they truly are. In my opinion, “the chance for us to happen” is deeply linked to the book of Amn for all the reasons explained before. It's not by chance that this book has such a weight in the scene. Gale also shows with this line that he has no experience nor idea how relationships develop. 

I also think that Gale fails so much in delivering decent lines in this scene because, 1) this is a very unpolished text in EA, or 2) this is very on purpose, emphasising that Gale is ready to speak about the two topics that turn him into an emotional disaster and his word choices could be attributed to as someone failing many charisma checks. Maybe that's the intention.

If Tav considers this the greatest of the betrayals they can tell him to leave and Gale will not resist the rejection, leaving the party immediately and facing one of his biggest fears: Abandonment. And once more, the abandonment as a consequence of his own mistake. The irony of this path. 

If Tav allows him to explain, Gale will accept any "judgement after telling his story". This is something very related to Gale's approvals: to have a complete grasp of a situation, you need to have all the evidence, hear all the details of the event, before drawing a conclusion. And curiously, no matter what aggressive option Tav picks, Gale gives no disapproval unless he is forced to leave the party. So, after some dramatic reaction, Gale will try to proceed with the telling.

Tav: It’s clear as day you are talking about yourself, you know Gale: I know, but a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me.

From here, Gale gives Tav another courtesy gesture: to pick the version in which this will be explained. He clarifies that the long version, more pompous and verbose and in third person, is the one he would prefer due to the distance. Since the first meeting on the road, or the stew scene, passing through the Loss Scene, we see this pattern again: Gale, the character who always has a lot of things to speak about, has also topics that are difficult to explain and needs to use narrative tricks to do it. Not by chance he is a reserved person: those topics he can't talk about are always personal. 

Long version

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra.

Tav: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  Dev's Notes: nostalgic, regretful, bitter, sad, lost romance–all with a bit of hesitation on the front of the line. Tav :He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. Tav: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. 

These three options give interesting additional information: Gale was convinced that Mystra's attention was love, because he was young and naive. He is now very aware that his talent meant little, because the true power he had was in Mystra's affections, meaning in being a loved Chosen one. He fancied himself unique, as a Chosen would do. 

Gale: Perhaps it was not quite love, Dev's Notes: A little embarrassed Gale: but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

This is another fragment with interesting, yet disturbing lines: Gale now, as a narrator, questions if that past feeling was Love. He has matured his sentiments for Mystra, they are less "teenager-like". He is convinced that in the past it was love to him, implying that now he has doubts (concept reinforced once more by the end of the scene). The disturbing line is the definition of "very young man", which I will talk about in the post of "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Grooming". 

Tav: The veils draped across the Weave? Gale: Indeed. What most wizards perceive is but the ripple of the Weave’s surface. Untold wonders lie beyond. I enjoyed them for a while, as we enjoyed each other.

Once more, in these details, the narrative reinforces how intense is the connection of Mystra with a Chosen one. Again, this is lore information. Chosen ones have a deep connection with Mystra/the Weave/Magic, which is unique. More on this matter can be read in the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones".

Gale: One day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. The veils were drawn once more, and the wizard was left behind heartbroken.

Tav: Poor wizard Gale: Poor wizard. Silly wizard too, for he wouldn’t take no for an answer Tav: What happened next? // I hate to say it, but he really could have seen this coming Gale: He was blinded by love. Good stories are rife with lovers’ follies after all. Tav: Perhaps she, like you, had other lovers she didn’t tell him about. Gale : She might well have had, but that didn’t stop the wizard from trying to reclaim her affections.

Gale: Like so many of the heartbroken, he did something infinitely foolish. One has to think big if one seeks to win back a goddess. So the wizard thought big. [Here he explains all about Karsus who] sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed but not quite, and his entire empire – Netheril – came crashing down around him as he turned to stone. The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, rolling like the prime chaos that outdated creation. A fragment of it was caught and sealed away in a book. No ordinary book, mind you; a tome of gateways that contained within it a bubble of Astral Plane. It was a fragment of primal Weave locked out of time – locked away from Mystra herself. ‘What if’, the silly wizard thought. ‘What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the Goddess?”

Another part of the scene that keeps giving us a lot of information: Gale is very aware now how silly he was in his youth (at this point, one can almost remember his words during Arabella's quest: she is not innocent but that doesn't mean she is guilty) and his past young self was unable to take a no as an answer (which apparently Gale learnt very well when before this revelation or after, Tav can reject him and he simply leaves the party without putting much resistance, despite knowing that Tav only has a fragment of the big picture). The other answer reinforces his blindness by this strange concept that Gale thought it was love, and pretty much uses the word Folly for describing or making an analogy with his past, which again, it's not a casual word: Folly is a formal way to say stupidity and it's also a word that Gale uses to compare his mistake with Karsus' folly. As an extra, the last answer seems to explain very much what he does when Tav romanced him and then slept with another companion. Details of this in the post "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Proposition to Cheat".

Short version: 

This version is shorter and more into the point without an excess of dramatic details that may end up annoying Tav more than making the process of comprehension better. The short version makes much more clear where Gale is standing: the facts are presented without his typical pattern of embellishing the story.

Gale: […] I am what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it like a virtuoso. Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of Mystra herself. I soon fell in love with her, and she returned my affections. […] Before long Mystra tired of me. What was I, after all, but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? You have to realise I was heartbroken. I was a young man, she was my first love. I thought it would last forever. 

This part reinforces once more that he is very aware that a relationship with a goddess was very unbalanced, that Mystra was his first love, he was a young man, and he thought it would last forever. 

For completion's sake, the goblin version has a different introduction:

Gale: Let's just get this over with. No doubt you've guessed by now there was something rather special about my relationship with the goddess Mystra. The thing is, we were lovers once. I am what one might call a wizard prodigy [...follows the same speech of the short version]

Three versions converge in the kneeling. The scene in this point has a different narrative value; a proud character as he is, who has a deep regret for his mistake with the “orb” (he says it explicitly in the "Loss Scene" post) kneels before Tav to humbly show the traumatic experience by placing their hand on his heart, where the “orb” resides:

Gale: Here. Place your hand over my heart. Let me show you Narrator: You feel the tadpole quiver as you realise Gale is letting you in. Into the dark. You see through Gale’s eyes, staring down the corridors of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened. Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces. It’s teeth, it’s claws, it’s unstoppable as it digs through you and becomes part of you. And gods, is it ever hungry…

This scene speaks of opennesses in all senses, honest and without any interest of pretence: Gale is showing his greatest regret, the lowest of the lowest he reached, the despair that it inspires. For once, he is not talking, he is showing it (because the experience is the one that makes him speechless and its memory seems to cause him great pain too due to the facial gesticulation). And what Tav sees shows again that Gale has nothing extra to hide: this has been the same exact information that Tav could extract from him in earlier opportunities with successful tadpole intrusions. So, if Tav never reveals that they saw this in Gale during the stew scene, Tav will realise that Gale kept his promise: he was reserved for a while, trusting slowly in Tav, to finally open up and show that he was going to explain the “why” much more later, because it's truly difficult for Gale to speak about.

1-Yank your hand away Gale: Terrifying isn’t it? And that is only the beginning 3-Tav: Gods – why show me this? Gale: I’m sorry, but I had to. After all, that is only the beginning 4-Tav: I slept with a monster. Gale: I didn’t sleep with a monster despite the tadpole in your head. We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things. So we fight them.

This is one of the most ominous information Gale gives us, in my opinion: The experience of how the “Black Weave” rushed into his body is grotesque and painful, and it's meant to cause despair. But that was only the beginning: Gale is everyday dealing with that feeling, but on a bigger scale as its hunger increases with each passing day. The descriptions of his emotions during the artefact scenes adds more despair and anxiety to it. Gale is living in the worst mental state that a person can, but he manages it thanks to his wizard training and the Weave he consumes (he is still alive thanks to Magic, of all things). This shows the mental power of a wizard in DnD. And if you read the post about "Well-known Characters" section: "Elminster", Gale could have been inspired in him since I can see this level of endured torture similar to the one that Elminster was exposed to when he was kidnapped and dragged to the Hells. 

Gale: This Netherese taint.. this orb, for lack of a better word, is balled up inside my chest. And it needs to be fed. As long as it absorbs Weave it remains stable – to an extent. The moment it becomes unstable, however..[...] It will erupt. I don’t know the exact magnitude of the eruption, but given my studies of Netherese magic, I’d say even a fragment as small as the one I carry…. It’d level a city the size of Waterdeep. Dev's Notes: He admits he’s a walking disaster waiting to happen. This is said very seriously. The truth is finally out and he has no idea how the player will react to such monstrous news.” 

Tav: I should godsdamned kill you Gale: Perhaps that is what I deserve, but you deserve no such thing. To kill me is to unleash the orb. I understand your anger, I do […]

Here is where we know that Gale calls it “orb”, but it's not an orb. For more details, read the post about the "Orb". Tav already knew since the Stew scene that Gale could cause a catastrophe without artefacts. In this scene we just get some extra details about it. 

Gale: It is my truth, finally revealed. It is this folly that led Mystra to abandon me completely. I can only hope you won’t abandon me as well. After all we’ve been through.. (After the night we spent together). Surely we can brave even this side by side. Dev's notes: Solemn. Full of yearning his news will not lead to him being abandoned by the player.

And there, Gale's “truth” is “revealed” (not truly, it is only more detailed in the information): We know that the Weave he consumes from the artefacts keeps this condition stable (something we already knew since the Stew Scene) and it will erupt if it doesn't consume artefacts (which is something we knew since the Stew Scene too). So the revelation scene is not so much of a revelation. The whole scene has a writing with a lot of weight in “shocking” revelations and “dramatic” reactions when the context provided shows that there is little to be shocked about, in my opinion. If anything, this whole scene needs serious polishing.

Then it follows the “coercive” part according to some players, which again... it's only Gale hoping this situation doesn't end in a second abandonment. The concept that the “intimacy” of the shared night gives more reasons to stay by his side seems pretty naïve, but maybe that was the intention (thus my suspicion that Gale has no experience at all in relationships, only what he learnt from romantic books). What it's clear is that after the detailed explanation, Gale is desperate to avoid a second abandonment, yet he knows it's unavoidable. This can be seen when Tav doesn't forgive his betrayal (?) of not saying anything about Mystra or the "orb" (he did in the Stew and following scenes, but this context is not acknowledged here), and Gale simply accepts it, showing that Mystra's experience made him learn to accept a no, leaving the party forever (in EA). 

Tav: No. This is too large a betrayal. Gale: I see. I am sorry. I am sorry that it had to come to this. All that’s left to say is farewell. Dev's Notes: A slight hesitation, hurt but understanding. He makes a polite little bow, then we see him walk away.

Really, I don't understand what happened with this scene because it's either ignoring any annoyance that the situation can cause on a Tav who didn't push Gale to talk, or it offers an over-reaction when all the information has been shared already, at least in a very generalised way during the Stew Scene. A Tav who doesn't push Gale to speak will have no more details than the ones provided during the Stew Scene at this point in the game, but one who pushed Gale will basically have the whole story covered. The Rpg-options we get here are so white-and-black, and not even coherent with the context, no wonder so many players turned Gale into a “mastermind in manipulation”. This scene is very unpolished in my opinion.

Tav: Gale, are you still in love with Mystra? Gale: I’ll be honest with you; I don’t know. She is my muse still, the embodiment of magic, but the embodiment of love? Only if we ever meet again will I know

Here we have once more confirmation that Gale questions what kind of love he has for Mystra. Considering all the context he gave us previously, it seems that his love for his Goddess as a devotee will never cease, but romantic love is a big question for him. He has given Tav all the hints to make them suspect that Gale probably never knew romantic love outside his experience with Mystra or what he could read in books.

Tav: What would permanently rid you of the orb? Gale: The orb was kept safe and inert in a pocket of Astral Plane, suspended in time. If I can somehow manage to expel it from my body while in the Astral Plane, it will be rendered inert again. Alternatively, I could learn to control it’s chaotic magic, that is; to succeed where I failed before. But without Mystra’s favour, I don’t see how that may come to pass. Of course there could be different answers as well. Faerûn brims with more magic than any one wizard could fathom, let alone comprehend. Who knows what outlandish solutions may yet present themselves?

The last bits of information are more interesting: Gale thought of two possible solutions to solve his “orb”problem. One is to expel the object out of his body in the Astral Plane where time doesn't exist so its hunger or ticking mechanism stops, so the magic will remain inert. The other option is to control Netherese magic. He informed Tav that he already tried this option, so it's clear that Gale's intention when obtaining this book was to master this strange piece of Weave and give the secrets of that control to Mystra. But he failed.

Summary of the post:

There is an important emphasis in acceptance: only through acceptance Gale can open up to share the details of his mistake. He wants to have this night before any confession because he wants to acquire this acceptance that, in his mind, would prevent the abandonment he viscerally fears.

In all the scenes there are many hints suggesting Gale is very inexperienced in relationships: the acceptance he needs can only be acquired due to the "art of the night'', which is one of the main points in this book. His notions related to relationships seem to have been acquired via romanticised means: books and poetry. He may believe that intimacy guarantees acceptance.

Gale “reveals” his truth: he was a Chosen of Mystra, he was Mystra's lover, and the “orb” problem was a mistake he made to earn Mystra's attention. All this information is now detailed here when it had been shared already. There is little “revelation” in it.

Gale's actions can be interpreted as manipulative for a Tav who respects his privacy and has little information about the “orb”. But hardly the pattern extends to his behaviour. His need for acceptance makes him make bad decisions.

A Tav who pushed Gale to speak in previous scenes finds little new information in this one: they will have a more detailed picture of the situation and they will know that Gale and Mystra were lovers.

Gale is very aware that Mystra's love was not exactly love, but it felt like that when he was young. He also knows that the true power of a Chosen is related to being loved by her. He is also aware that a relationship with a goddess is a very unbalanced one. He states that Mystra was his first love, the affair happened when he was a (very) young man, and he thought it would last forever. 

Potent narrative image: Gale, a proud character with great confidence, kneels before Tav to humbly show the traumatic experience by placing his hand on his heart, where the “orb”resides.

In general, the whole tone of the scene jumps constantly in my opinion. Tav's options are not toned to the general atmosphere of the scene: or they ignore completely the value of what Gale says, or over-react magnifying information as if it were the first time Gale says it, when a lot of it was shared during the Stew Scene and following scenes. It feels like a very unpolished scene, probably as the result of Gale being a companion added to the EA in a rush.

The Dev's notes explain the whole situation as: 

Dev's notes: synopsis: The principal portion of this dialog consists of two main parts: a romantic night intro that leads to a fade to black and implied intimacy, and a section in which Gale tells you his true story in either of two ways (chosen by the player). These are the ‘story’ variant in third person, and the slimmed down ‘story-light’ version in first person. It is the story of how he fell in love with the goddess Mystra, was spurned by her after a brief affair, and how he got himself into big trouble when trying to win her back. The dialog was originally meant to contain only the above, but for recording and cinematic purposes, the story sections of it are also used in a variety of other ways, that is to say, the dialog also contains an intro section in which the scene begins with no romantic intent. In specific cases though, Gale will still try his luck, which you’ll see in the repeat of some lines of an earlier dialog. 

This shows that, so far, the intention was always to make Gale explain the “true story” in this scene, which was the one we were told. I think that expecting more secrets would water down this intention here. In any case, the future secrets, if there are some left, may be secret even for Gale himself.

This post was written in June 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

[needtherapy]

the road in leaves no step had trodden black

“You don’t smile much anymore. You used to smile more.”

“Not much to smile about these days, is there?”

Jiang Cheng gets a little therapy session from Wen Ning, learns to plant potatoes, and decides he's not giving up on something he wants. 

Read more Kristina Writes Tiny Stories or Skadiseven Stories on AO3

The title is from Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” and the story was written for Jiang Cheng’s birthday and, more importantly, @wangxianbunnydoodles​‘s birthday!

Jiang Cheng wonders if it’s irony that a dead man is so intent on digging in the dirt, hoping to bring forth new life, or just a strange coincidence. He can never remember the difference.

Irony, he decides, as the dead man carefully buries a row of eyes, one per mound, evenly spaced in neat rows. He wonders if this will even work, if life can come from death, if...

“Jiang-zongzhu, can I help you?”

The gentle voice startles Jiang Cheng from his morbid thoughts. In all the times he’s visited Burial Mounds, Wen Ning has never spoken to him. He supposes that’s his own fault. When has he ever invited conversation? Or, if he’s more honest, when hasn’t he discouraged it?

“Or...would you like to help me? Have you ever planted potatoes?”

No, Jiang Cheng thinks, he has never planted potatoes, and he’s not exactly enthusiastic to try right now, but Wen Ning is handing him a circle of potato with a small sprout, and he takes it without thinking.

“You put it in the ground about this deep, eye facing the sky,” Wen Ning shows him with a little chuckle. “And then you bury it under the dirt, but you have to make a little mound and pat it down.”

It would be rude not to plant the potato he’s holding, and when it’s safely underground, ready to do whatever it is potatoes do, Jiang Cheng looks at his fingernails. He’s a man of the water, and his fingernails are never dirty. But he doesn’t have time to think about it, because Wen Ning is beaming at him and holding out another piece of potato. Much to his consternation, Wen Ning has proven to have all the menace of a kitten and all the enthusiasm of a puppy, and it’s impossible not to smile back. Maybe he doesn’t do it right, though, because Wen Ning’s eyebrows draw together, and he looks concerned.

He doesn’t say anything, just gestures to Jiang Cheng with the potato-eye piece.

Well, what the hell, he may as well, Jiang Cheng thinks. He’s already dirty just being here. He kneels down and follows Wen Ning's directions, taking the second piece of potato and the third without saying anything at all.

He plants six more tiny eyes in tiny sockets of mud before Wen Ning says anything else.

“You don’t smile much anymore. You used to smile more.”

“Not much to smile about these days, is there?”

Wen Ning’s mouth flicks sideways sadly. “No. Not much.”

Jiang Cheng remembers that he’s talking to a man who has recently been deceased, exiled, hunted, and also lost nearly his entire family, so perhaps he knows something of sorrow. Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel guilty, not exactly, but he does feel...something. Something niggling and uncomfortable.

“But there are some things, aren’t there?” Wen Ning goes on, and Jiang Cheng stares at him as a smile turns up the corners of Wen Ning’s mouth. “I have my sister and you have yours. We both have a great friend—kind of like a brother—in Wei-gongzi. I have family to care for and you have a nephew on the way. Someone saved my life, in a way, and someone saved yours.”

Jiang Cheng laughs, despite himself. “Wen-gongzi, is that a joke? Yes, yes, you’re right, my thanks is long overdue. Thank you for saving my life.”

He makes an approximation of a deep bow, even though he is still kneeling in a potato patch. It comes out more like giving obeisance, which is, possibly, more appropriate anyway.

Wen Ning bobs his head, still smiling. “I’m glad you’ve used it well, Jiang-zongzhu.”

Has he? He’s helped his own sect recover, and he’s told himself that nothing else matters, but the truth is, he doesn’t want to help anyone else right now. It never works, and no one else even needs him, so why bother? Yanli managed to get herself married without his help. Wei Wuxian is determined to do whatever this is without his help. He’s been supportive! Sort of. But...maybe...maybe he hasn’t been a great brother. Fine, especially not to Wei Wuxian. Sure, he comes to visit this vile place sometimes, but he doesn’t know why. It’s stupid. He repudiated Wei Wuxian publicly; it’s dangerous to keep visiting. And he hates it, every inch of it, not because it’s ugly—which it is—but because Wei Wuxian chose it. He doesn’t understand why Wei Wuxian stays, why any of them stay, why Wen Qi…

“Why are you here?”

The question bursts out in an angry snap and Wen Ning looks puzzled.

“I’m planting potatoes. Wei-gongzi likes them better than turnips.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “I mean, why are you here? Here in Burial Mounds? Why did he save you? Why is it more important...”

He breaks off and looks away, angrily jabbing potato pieces into the ground until he realizes he’s doing it wrong, and Wen Ning is following his progress, adjusting the pieces and reburying them. Jiang Cheng slows down. It occurs to him that maybe they can’t afford to waste even a single piece. Gods, he can be an asshole sometimes.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and Wen Ning stops, rests his dirty hands on his knees and looks at Jiang Cheng with that wide-eyed innocent look he’s always had. In other people, it would make Jiang Cheng suspicious, but in Wen Ning, he thinks it’s exactly what it looks like. Even with the darker-than-they-should-be eyes, the whiter-than-it-should-be skin and the creepier-than-necessary black veins, Wen Ning still strikes Jiang Cheng as somehow unsullied by the world, as though the burdens the world has handed him were tokens he could accept and carry without breaking.

“When I was a boy, I trusted my sister. More than anyone. More than my parents. You know, it’s because she never lies, and parents do lie. Not to be mean or anything, just...because they’re adults, so they don’t think it counts. But a-jie never lies.”

“Ha!” Jiang Cheng huffs. “My brother lies all the time. I usually don’t even know why. He could just tell the truth.”

Wen Ning tips his head, a preternaturally agile tilt. “A-jie did lie to me, though. She said she would always protect me, and look what happened. She said she would take care of me, and we live in a graveyard. She said everything would be okay, and...it isn’t. I probably shouldn’t trust her anymore.”

“That’s not fair! Things happened. You know they did!”

Jiang Cheng is incensed. Maybe he’s not...maybe he doesn’t… He snorts irritably, collecting his thoughts. Maybe there’s nothing between them, but he knows Wen-guniang is honorable, and she has done everything to save her people, even to share their fate. She didn’t have to, but it was the right thing to do, and she chose it knowing she had other options, selfish options, as he is well aware. Whatever she’s done, it’s always been to protect the people she loves, even if it didn’t always seem like it at the time. If she lied to her brother, it was to save him, over and over again. She always had a reason! How could Wen Ning say he doesn’t trust her?

...oh.

His head whips around to glare at Wen Ning, but Wen Ning just smiles at him, that sweet, guileless smile, and goes back to planting potatoes. Jiang Cheng takes a handful with a huff, and they work in silence for a little longer.

“A-Cheng! What are you doing here?”

Wei Wuxian’s sunniest, happiest voice makes Jiang Cheng smile instinctively, and he doesn’t wipe it from his face like he usually does these days.

“Saving your life, apparently. I heard you were going to be forced to eat turnips,” Jiang Cheng whispers the word in mock horror, and immensely enjoys the surprise, suspicion, delight, and hope that cycle over his brother’s face in rapid succession.

“Oh? Uh...thank you.”

Wei Wuxian smiles tentatively at him, and rather than focusing on the fact that usually, these days, Wei Wuxian’s smiles are tight and wary, and that usually, these days, they fight with more rancor than teasing, and that usually, these days, Jiang Cheng never touches him if he can help it, Jiang Cheng pulls Wei Wuxian into a hug, a real hug, fitting together they way they always have, and he doesn’t let go until Wei Wuxian hugs him back. He’s too thin, Jiang Cheng thinks. Next time he visits, he’ll bring soup.

“A-Ning, what...what the hell is going on?” Wen Qing whispers to her brother, watching Wei Wuxian and his brother laugh and cry and hug like they’ve never seen each other before, and Wen Ning shrugs.

“A-jie, how could I know? We were just planting potatoes. Jiang-zongzhu must really like potatoes.”

Wen Qing looks suspiciously at her brother, but Wen Ning just smiles at her, that sweet, guileless smile everyone else thinks is innocent but which Wen Qing knows is always, always a precursor to Wen Ning getting his way. He trots away, probably off to find a-Yuan, and she sighs. Whatever it is this time, she hopes it doesn’t disrupt the planting schedule. They have mouths to feed.

She glances back at Jiang Ch...Jiang-zongzhu—you don't get to call him Jiang Cheng anymore, a mean voice reminds her—and to her surprise, he meets her eyes over Wei Wuxian’s back, a smile she’s never seen on his lips. It looks like...determination. Her stomach flops alarmingly, a betrayal of all her good sense. No, she thinks. That smile? That smile looks like the future calling, and it’s absolutely terrifying.

“A-Ning, get back here immediately!” she yells, heading in the direction he ran away. “What did you say?”

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Barchie 5x06 Review.

So I usually just do one reivew for an episode but I have so many thoughts on this episode that I decided to split it in two otherwise it’ll be way too long, I figured two smaller reviews will be easier for people to read than one novel of a review. So in this part I am just going to be talking about the Barchie content. Then I’ll post a second half covering the rest of the episode later on today. As always these are just my own interpretations and opinions and naturally there are spoilers. So if you want to know my thoughts on Barchie this episode read on.

The Teacher’s Lounge

The first scene we get of Barchie is the one where they are in the teacher’s lounge. Now I have seen some people who are disappointed or using the argument that Barchie have become only sex and that they never talk. To me though I don’t think that is true at all and this scene is proof of that. When Archie first approaches Betty they are talking about the Polly situation. Betty is confiding in her friend about what is going on in her life and is sharing her worries with him. In return he tries to reassure her and comfort her when he reminds her that Alice had said Polly would disappear for days at time before showing up again. Another thing I’ve seen some people worry about is that Barchie are just using each other as a distraction. Again I totally understand why some shippers might be worred about that. But to me I’m kinda like well yeah they are. I mean maybe I misinterpreted the situation but I kind of thought that’s what their whole friends with benefits arrangement was about. It’s a friend that you can use to help you work out your frustrations and to be a distraction for a little while. Also this idea of using sex as a distraction and coping technique is hardly a new thing to riverdale both v*rchie and b*ghead have used sex in the past to distract themselves from their problems and they were both long term established relationships, them using sex that way didn’t negate from their very real feelings for each other. So I don’t think that just because Barchie are sleeping together in an attempt to escape for a moment, that means they are doomed or that their relationship is shallow and only about sex. If anything its a good thing because it shows that when they are feeling stressed and worried its each other that they choose to turn to. I think we often get so distracted by the sex part of the arrangement that its easy to forget about the friends part of friends with benefits. 

What I did love about this scene was how cute it was. Like when he calls her Ms Cooper and just the fact that he came to check up on how her day was going in the first place was adorable. And of course I loved that little hand touch it was just so soft. I also thought their smiles and that playful look Betty gets when she’s thinking about a plan for where they can hook up was really funny.

The Titanic Sails Again.

Growing up Titanic was my favourite movie and in my young mind it was the most romantic of movies, so naturally I was thrilled about that iconic titanic moment being recreated for Barchie. At the same time I couldn’t help but laugh a little at it too. That being said there is no denying that the scene was on fire.I mean I don’t know if its just Barchie and their chemistry or if its because they’re depicting adults now or a combination of both but is it me or do these sex scenes seem so much more explicit than they used to be? I mean holy firecracker.

 I also thought the song choice was perfect. I’ll be honest I had never heard it before but I do think the lyrics and also what the song is about is significant. I talked about songs a bit before and how in tv shows the lyrics can often hold significance because the producers have to shorten the song to fit the scene, therefore they have to chose not just a song that will fit the scene but which lyrics specifically work for the scene. Obviously it was a sexy scene so they wanted a sexy song to go with it. But the song, by the writers own admittion, is a love song. Bazzi said this about the song and I just think it is so in line with Barchie at the moment  "It became more than just a love song to a girl I was with…Lyrics were just flowing out, because I had felt this certain love and acceptance from this girl, and I wanted to take that and on a bigger scale give that back to people." This is exactly how I see Barchie’s relationship, its about love and acceptance. They have always loved each other, whether that’s romantically or as best friends or both. Also they have always been supportive and accepting of each other. 

So what about the lyrics that are actually in the scene. Well like I said some of them I just think are because they go with the whole sex of the scene. I mean lyrics like ‘hit it from the back and drive you wild’ and ‘hands on your body.’ Those don’t really need much analysis, pretty damn obvious why those lyrics were chosen. I mean you can look at it as simply its a song about sex and they are having sex, its not that deep. But I actually think there are some lyrics that could indicate that there’s something deeper to Barchie. The lyrics ‘girl I lose myself up in those eyes’ for example is actually a rather romantic line about how he is enamoured with the girl and I do feel like that’s how Archie feels about Betty and always has. Also the line ‘I just had to let you know you’re mine.’ Again this to me seems deeper than just sex. I do wonder if on a subconcious level they both see each other as theirs but that they aren’t willing to admit to themselves or each other. My favourite lyrics though are ‘feels like forever even if forever’s tonight.’ To me this makes me think that when they are together they let themselves feel all of those feelings they have for each other. Just for those moments they aren’t hiding, they just feeling it all and it feels like something that can last, it feels like forever. But neither one of them is ready to confront that so instead they just settle for tonight, they are willing to take what they can for now. 

I also feel like when they choose a song they probably do so knowing that either the audience have heard it before or that they will go and listen to it in full. So maybe there are some more clues as to where Barchie are heading in the rest of the song? (Probably not, its probably me just over analysing everything as per usual but hey let me live in my land of denial a little longer, its fun here.) In the full version of the song it starts out with a speaking part where the guy announces that he’s had a bit too much to drink and now he needs to tell her how he feels. I do wonder if this will be how Archie ends up confessing how he feels, like he has a bit too much to drink maybe at this point Glen has shown up and he’s feeling some jealousy and so he just goes to her and admits to how he’s feeling? Anyway back to the song, he then goes on to talk about how much he loves her smile and how he gets lost in her eyes. Again really romantic notions that we often associate with being in love. Later in the song there’s another similar lyric ‘Even when it's rainy, all you ever do is shine.’ Again this idea of someone being the sunshine in the rain is a very romantic notion and again I do feel like this is how Barchie feel about each other and kind of ties into what I was saying above about how when things are bad they turn to each other. I mean those scenes when they are together they look happy, they are both each others sunshine when things are getting stormy. 

Throughout the song there is also alot of the idea of belonging with the other person and this idea of a long term relationship. Outside of the obvious ‘you’re mine’ lyrics and the title of the song itself. I talked a little about the feeling like forever lyrics too but there are some other lyrics that I think are important. For example ‘Man, this feel incredible, I'll turn you into a bride, you're mine.’ Again this lyric isn’t about sex its goes deeper than that this is talking about being together forever not just a fling. But I think another even more interesting lyric in the song is ‘Swear to God, I'm down if you're down, all you gotta say is right.’ I’ve said before that I think that Archie is the one that is more willing to explore a relationship than Betty right now. I do feel like this line reflects how Archie is feeling like all Betty would have to do is say the word and I think he would be all in. Now I am fully aware that I could be reading way too much into this but I just find it interesting that they chose a song for a Barchie scene that is talking about how in love a guy is with the girl he’s with and how that guy is longing for more. 

So like I said earlier there is no denying that this scene was all kinds of hot so naturally I was very amused when the fire alarm started to go off. I don’t know I just found that really funny, like a literal fire broke out whilst they were doing it. Of course this is because some Stonewall Prep footballers set a fire in the school. One thing worth noting though is that obviously those two guys saw both Archie and Betty there at the school I can’t help but wonder if they’ll go back and tell Reggie this. I mean I don’t think they will but its possible they could do some scenario where Reggie tells Hiram and considering how Archie later tells everyone that he was alone and out running when he discovered the fire, Hiram is going to know that Betty and Archie are wanting to keep things quiet and maybe he or Reggie will use it to try and blackmail Archie. Like stop what you’re doing or we’ll tell everyone about you and Betty. I mean Betty didn’t do her blouse up all the way when they came out so I think the students probably would be able to guess what they had been doing. I’m not entirely convinced on this theory but the thought did cross my mind. Speaking of Betty’s state of dress, that leather skirt and the heels with the blouse, our girl came all dressed up for Archie and I loved that outfit. Also I really loved the scene where Archie was trying to explain why he was at the school in the middle of the night to see the fire. I mean Archie does go night jogging, he has in the past at least so the excuse was a believable one but his delivery was far from smooth.

On a less fun note I have seen some people comparing the Barchie car scene with the one with Miss Grundy and that’s just not ok. They are very different situations one scene is between two consenting adults and the other was a person of authority and an adult manipulating a teenager into having sex with them. The fact that people are using that scene as a way to prop up their own ship or to try and say its evidence that Barchie are wrong is quite frankly disgusting and disturbing so please just stop.  

The Shallows.

So this was on the surface such a small scene but in truth I actually think in terms of Barchie’s relationship it was one that held the most significance. Whilst Veronica sings the lines ‘Tell me something boy, aren’t you tired of trying to fill that void.’ It zooms in on Archie’s face and you can see he is feeling some things. He is clearly got some things on his mind that have been stirred up by those particular lyrics. I said before the episode aired when I saw the clip of them in the teacher’s lounge in the promo that I wondered if Archie was already beginning to get tired of sneaking around and after seeing this episode I do think that’s the case. I think Betty and Archie have been in love with each other since the pilot, maybe even before, but they’ve spent so long pushing down those feelings and ignoring them that I’m not sure they know how to do anything else. But as a result, I think not acting on these feeling has left a void in their lives/ hearts. Now they’ve reunited and they are both single and they’ve realised those feeling are still there, but like I said, I think they spent so long denying their feelings its become second nature to them. I think they both fear losing the other if they take it to the next step and it doesn’t work out, then they’ve lost their best friend. But I also think this void they’ve created is becoming too much so they instead try to fill it by sleeping together hoping that it might be enough to make them feel more complete.

When Veronica sings the next line ‘Or do you need more?’ this time it zooms in on Betty who you see gets a little sad and looks down at the ground, like Archie those lyrics have got her thinking and feeling things. Again these lyrics are so significant and I think the mesage is pretty clear. Barchie want more with each other, as much as they are enjoying the whole FWB thing they’ve got going on they’re realising that its not enough. They are also probably feeling a lot of fear and uncertainty around that revelation. The next line Veronica sings is also very meaningful. ‘Is there something else you are searching for?” What’s really interesting to me is obviously I think this lyric is suppose to indicate that yes Barchie are searching for something other than the FWB deal they’ve got going on. But I actually think the writers show us exactly what it is Barchie are looking for. At this moment they zoom in on Kangs. I think its important that at this moment they show us a happy, stable couple, who have a deep relationship and who fell in love when they were in high school and who still had those feelings for each other all these years later. This is what Barchie want with each other.

Also the song talks about the shallows. Shallow water is indicative of safety as oppose to being in the deep end which makes you think of being out of your element or in danger. Barchie has always been associated with safety, Betty on several occasions has talked about how they feel safest with each other. I also feel like they feel safe with the whole FWB arrangement. The song continues to go on to say that they are ‘far from the shallows now’ and talking about ‘I’m in the deep end, watch as I dive in.’ This line is talking about willingly throwing yourself into the deep end, to embracing the unknown and just going for it. I do think this is suppose to tell us that this is what Barchie will do. That eventually they’ll take that leap of faith for each other and just dive in. A large part of the reason why I think this song is about Barchie despite it being sung by Veronica and Chad (well truthfully I think it had signifcance for a few couples but I’ll cover that in the other half of the review) is because one the fact that they zoomed in on them both. But two because right when the song finishes Archie immediately turns to look at Betty and she flicks her eyes to his. I think this shows that they were thinking about each other during that song. 

The Porch

Ok so now I want to talk about the scene that seems to have caused some differing opinions within the fandom. A lot of shippers are saying that the scene where Betty comes to the door and they kiss, that Archie had a strange look on his face as he closed the door after she suggested they go upstairs. Now I agree there was a strange look on his face. I did see a lot of people speculating that this was because Archie was jealous over Veronica and Chad and was distracted by that so wasn’t really that enthusiastic about hooking up with Betty at that moment. Respectfully I am going to completely disagree with that reasoning. I was actually kind of surprised when I saw so much speculation that Archie was jealous of Chad, particularly over on twitter because me personally I didn’t see any indication that Archie was jealous. He was definitely wary and suspicious of Chad and obviously still protective of Veronica but I don’t think that situation was the reason for the conflict Archie seemed to be feeling. However whilst I don’t think that Archie was jealous I do think that at some point some element of V*rchie is going to come back into play and that was being set up in this episode. One thing I noticed as I’m sure many others have is that so far the time jump has had a lot of parallels and throwbacks to season 1. But the interesting thing about these parallels is that they each have different outcomes then the original parallel. For example the scene in 5x04/05 when the core four reunite at Pop’s. This scene parallels the one, I think is in 1x02, where the core four sit together for the first time, the one where Betty and Veronica are there and then Juggie and Arch come in and Betty offers for them to join them. Both scenes are very similar but the outcomes are different, in the original scene the four of them are relaxed and laughing together, in the season 5 scene they are a little tense and its awkward. Well I think the V*rchie and Barchie storyline is going to parallel the one in season 1. I think Betty will once again feel jelaous of Veronica and Archie. I could also see Archie get confused about whether his concern for Veronica is old feelings returning or just a friendly kind of concern and whether or not what he feels for Betty is deeper or just an attraction. Basically Archie is going to find himself in the same situation he was in in season 1 but in reverse. In season one he was confused about whether what he felt for Betty was just a friend thing and whether what he felt for Veronica was something deeper or just attraction. Now I think it’ll be the other way around. Back in season 1 ultimately Archie chooses Veronica, sort of, especially after Betty shuts him down during his ‘a part of me always thought’ speech. What else I find interesting is there is another kind of role reversal here between Betty and Archie. In season 1 it was Betty who had feelings for Archie and believed he didn’t have feelings for her. I think in season 5 its Archie that has feelings for Betty but believes she doesn’t have feelings for him. I think they’ll hint at V*rchie but I don’t actually think they will put them back together. I think how it will go is Glen will show up and Archie will feel jealous when he realises that there was something between Glen and Betty. As a result he’ll start spending more time with Veronica which in turn will make Betty jealous. Evenutally in 5x10 it’ll come to a head and Archie having one too many will show up at Betty’s door and declare his feelings. But I don’t think anything will happen right there. I think Betty will just look after drunk Archie and it’ll be the next day that they’ll talk about their feelings and then get together because this time Archie will choose Betty. 

Speaking of parallels that brings me back to this porch scene. Obviously I feel like this porch scene is a parallel to the porch scene in the pilot where one has shown up at the others door. Last time it ended in rejection but this time they kiss and sleep together. Also I couldn’t help but notice that during this scene and the one where they a laying in bed together the theme playing is the same one that was played during that first porch scene, which can’t be a coincidence. Ok so what about that strange look? If its not about Veronica then what was it about. Well I think it was because Archie wants more with Betty but feels like she just sees him as a hookup. 

There was another parallel between this scene and the one earlier in the episode in the teacher’s lounge. In both scenes it starts out with Betty talking about how she is worried about Polly. Again this is showing that friends element of their relationship and how they still go to each other for comfort when things are troubling them. Archie in turn confesses that he himself was feeling crazy and frustrated and whilst I do think some of that relates back to Veronica and Chad, I mean Chad had been a huge dick to him right before this, some of it also probably had to do with Reggie and that situation, but I also think some of it is that he is frustrated about where his and Betty’s relationship is, which was brought on by him hearing Veronica sing shallow. Another parallel between the two scenes is in both it is mentioned that Jughead is out and at work. In the first scene Betty says its too risky for them to be together at Archie’s even if Jughead is out. But this time she doesn’t seem worried about it. I think she just wants to be with Archie and so just doesn’t care what the risk is. I do think this is a small indication that things are changing between them. There are more little hints in this scene too. For example unlike after the scene in the teacher’s lounge where we next see them going at it in the car, in this scene they don’t show them in the act. Instead they show them after. I actually really loved this scene, even more than the car scene. Because here they were just cuddling together, it wasn’t about sex in this moment, they just wanted to be near each other and were taking comfort in each other. I am going to come back to this moment in a bit but first I want to go back to the porch and talk some more about that. 

After talking about how he is feeling frustrated, Archie and Betty kiss. But this kiss to me seems different from the others they’ve had post time jump. For one the others were during their hookups and so were passionate and urgent. This kiss however was just so soft. I also think its worth noting that when I first saw the scene I thought it was Betty that initiated it but I actually think it was Archie. Archie takes a small step towards Betty but also as Betty moves forward you can see Archie’s shoulders move almost like he is pulling her too him. Now I feel like if it was a case of he was distracted by Veronica and wasn’t that into being with Betty he wouldn’t be the one pulling her too him for a kiss. Also Archie is the one that deepens the kiss too. Another thing worth noting is that despite Betty’s concerns about the risk and that they up until now have been very careful about not getting caught. Well they kissed each other on his porch with the door wide open. Literally anyone could have seen them. But again in that moment I don’t think they cared, I think they just wanted to be together. Also despite Betty aksing to go upstairs after I don’t feel like that kiss was meant as a prelude to sex, or that it has anything to do with sex. The kiss wasn’t passionate or heated. It was a much more romantic kiss and maybe I’m projecting but to me it seemed to be more fuelled by their real feelings for each other than by desire or lust. And this is exactly why I think Archie had that look on his face as he closed the door. I think he poured his feelings into that kiss hoping she would know and to me the look on his face was one of frustration and I think its because when she wanted to go upstairs he felt like it was a case of her only seeing him as a hookup option. However I think judging from the look on her face as she looks at him after they kiss I don’t think that is true. Again I could be projecting but to me she just looked so in love with him. 

Ok so going back to the scene where they are cuddling in bed together. Like I said they both have pensieve looks on their faces but the really sweet thing is that Archie is stroking Betty’s shoulder and Betty is stroking Archie’s side and I don’t know why but those little details made me feel all soft and gooey inside. When Betty’s phone goes off Archie is just staring at her the whole time with such a loving look, he looks completely besotted by her. Also there is that moment when Betty says that she has to go and then says ‘but this... was really nice.’ That hesitation before she says really nice, to me, showed that Betty was trying to think what ‘this’ was exactly and it seemed like she couldn’t quite find the right words to define it. Again they both just looked so in love when she was saying it. Also as a FWB type arrangement I’m not sure it was necessary for her to kiss him goodbye like that. Like the kiss on the porch it wasn’t a heated or lust fuelled kiss it was soft and tender, again as if there were real feelings behind it. Also as she goes to leave you can see Archie almost reach out to stop her and say something. It’s pretty obvious in this moment that Archie doesn’t want Betty to go and wants to say something, maybe about his feelings for her, but he changes his mind and again looks deep in thought. 

Overall I thought this was a really good episode for Barchie and I do think that they are moving more towards becoming something more than just friends with benefits. I know that there is a possibilty they might go back to the original couples but as of right now I don’t see that happening anytime soon. I do feel like as a fandom us Barchies have been let down so many times that we just expect to be disappointed but for now I’m staying optimistic and I’m just going to enjoy speculating and enjoy any scenes we get.      

[nagisasstunningpersonality]

TINSITOGS, a retrospective (happy birthday)

(yes I’m like two days too late I know I’m sorry) 

Why hello followers and ass class fandom, nice to see you there. I’m sure MOST people know about this, but in case you don’t, hi. On AO3 I’m better known as livixbobbiex, writer of maybe one of the most infamous Assassination Classroom fics. 

Which I mean like, if you haven’t read it yet you totally should it’s fanlore at this point I promise- 

Shameless plug that I don’t need aside, I felt that, on its first birthday since actual completion, I just wanted to share some things about it. Some tit bits about writing it, fun facts, maybe even some author advice TM. I appreciate that it’ll be super annoying if I do that in the tags, though, so that’ll all be under the cut. If you don’t want to read the whole post, then no matter what, thanks for the support in general! 

I also want to take the opportunity to announce that I’ve reopened my discord, so if you want to talk about my fics with me (and others), you’re more than welcome to join! (the link is here) 

The origin story 

I’ve stated this many times, I think, but TINSITOGS was never supposed to be a serious story. Taking you back, quite a long time, it actually started in a facebook DM with a friend. We used to come up with “head canons” with each other, which were basically just very condensed fanfiction plots over a multitude of text messages. I believe I was trying to cheer her up, and I tried to come up with some kind of plot line. 

At the time, I was fairly fresh to the Ass Class fandom, and I was joking about how there were no teen pregnancy melodrama fanfictions. It wasn’t that I wanted one, I just thought it was strange for a school centric anime with a bunch of ships to NOT have one. And, back then, I only really cared about karmagisa. So I just decided ‘right it’s happening’. The reason I decided to make it ABO was due to ‘it making sense’. Fun fact: it was almost written as AFAB trans Nagisa, but I decided against it as I didn’t rate my ability to handle it well back then. Looking back on it, I’m glad I made that decision. 

Over around two months, writing out the plot of this story took over my life a little bit. I had no idea where I was going with it, but I was having so much fun with the drama that I decided that Karma and Nagisa shouldn’t get together soon at all, and I had a lot of fun teasing my friend with the ‘will they won’t they’. It was only when I got bored that I invented this intense drama plotline to finish it all off. 

That period of time was a lot of fun. And whilst that friendship didn’t end well, I still have a lot to thank her for. She chose Daichi’s name because I had no idea, and she wanted to annoy me because I didn’t like Haikyuu. When I couldn’t decide on his hair colour, the purple was her suggestion because ‘why logic?’ Daichi speaking Korean was because of how much she liked Kpop. She even helped me choose the title of the actual fic, so there’s a lot you can thank her for, honestly. 

After I finished that story, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Whenever I daydreamed, I used to think about that damn Daichi Akabane, and how much I wanted to tell his story. I’d even come up with extra stuff to fill in a lot of the gaps, and developed his character in my mind. I decided that I was really desperate to write it down. Usually that worked when I had an idea I wanted to work through. 

I wrote the first chapter in late 2017, and then the next two as well. I just, kept going, and realised that I could go further still. TINSITOGS was never something that was supposed to be shared, but I decided I may as well. After all, that fated ‘teen pregnancy drama’ fic still didn’t exist, and I thought it would be funny to make it happen. 

Yes, as I’ve stated publicly a few times, TINSITOGS was a crack fic. If I wanted attention from it, it was infamy. We even joked about me cursing the fandom if it ever became the most popular fic (whoops?). What I wasn’t expecting was a bunch of people, in a fandom where at the time there were NO ongoing karmagisa fics and it was pretty dead, to really seem to enjoy it. It was enough to have me keep writing it, at least. I still don’t know at what point I actually started taking it seriously, but somehow I did, and the rest is history? 

The reception 

In my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would be the author of one of the most popular fics in the fandom. To this day, the amount of views TINSITOGS has is insanity to me. For the record, across all platforms it’s on today it has 238,000, which is literally a number I can’t even visualise anymore. Almost quarter of a MILLION. To this day on AO3, it’s the most viewed Ass Class fic that’s an ACTUAL ass class fic (the others are multi fandom compilations). So yeah, I achieved the original goal, I guess? 

Now you might be wondering, “omg the karmagisa fandom is fujoshi trash”. And, considering the origins, it is kind of funny. The thing is, though, TINSITOGS was written at incredibly good time. It was written when there were, essentially, very few long form Karma/Nagisa stories. If any other fics did get posted on occasion, they were usually just oneshots. I was also, at that point, writing very fast. A symptom of ADHD is becoming obsessively productive over certain things. Since I was able to get a 3k chapter out every few days/once a week, TINSITOGS was consistently bumped to the top of AO3′s default view. And some of those first few chapters were altered canon, and transcribing the canon dialogue didn’t take very long. The more views it got, the more people would read it out of sheer curiosity. 

I think it also helps that, at least after it started getting some positive feedback (which was honestly after the pre written chapters), I purposely tried to make it ‘not terrible’. I mean, I personally think the first chapter is pretty weak and if it wasn’t somewhat iconic to a lot of people I’d rewrite it. But in general, I purposely tried to make the world of ABO my own, to make it more accessible to those who don’t like that genre, and stay away from the inherently grosser stuff as much as possible. I genuinely do get comments about how I introduced people to the genre as a whole, still not sure if that’s a GOOD thing but hey, it happened. 

TINSITOGS turned into a lot more than just a joke. It turned into my favourite hobby. It turned into a research project (honestly, you would not believe the amount of mummy vlogs and legit scientific articles about child development I consumed). It turned into something that, at least I believe, was widely loved. 

Meaning 

I think it might be wrong to say that I don’t have AN idea of when I started to take the fic super seriously. For me, it was around the time someone commented something along the lines of saying my writing meant a lot to them, that they’d spent all night reading it and had been unable to put it down. 

Not to get too dark here, but I do have a past in writing a very long, somewhat popular fic (it’s still on my fanfic net profile if anyone’s interested, but I don’t recommend it). However, in the latter part of my teenage years, the depression struck. Writing was the love of my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore. Maybe I’d be able to muster an idea or even a chapter at the best points of that, but I’d never completely finished any story. Starting to write again was a huge step in my recovery, and one of the reasons I convinced myself that life was worth it was being able to impact someone’s life somehow. Even to this day, I still remember the fics I read when I was, like, thirteen. How much I still remember them, and how much they meant to be at the time. I wanted to be that writer for someone else. To be honest, it was actually Yuri!!! On Ice that got me out of the super bad, but I still never wrote anything of real consequence. TINSITOGS was the first time in a long time I actually committed to something. 

And, to be completely honest, there were a lot of times I was tired of it, and wanted to just quit. But, the thing was, I felt like people depended on me in a way. I got so many comments that were just FILLED with support, telling me how much they looked forward to every update. It wasn’t just empty words, either, a lot of the times these comments would be super engaged with the actual writing. I can’t even describe just how much they meant to me, how much I would look forward to reading everyone’s opinions. And then discord happened, which was a lot of fun. 

TINSITOGS went a lot further than I ever thought it would. There were comments, discussions, fan art, fan FIC (which is honestly incredible to me). Someone even added it to TV Tropes, at one point. Not to mention the Cards Against Humanity deck and quiz It makes me so unbelievably happy that I could inspire that much creativity, but it’s a two way street. It was all of that which inspired me to write, too. 

Writing 

The only real goal I actually had was aiming for around 3000 words per chapter. I had a whole facebook log of plot points as planning, and I was mostly just trying to expand on them into prose. I honestly thought that, at its completion, the entire fic would be around 100k words, if that. Not, at one point, being literally the longest ass class fic on AO3. 

There are a lot of aspects that were directly adapted from the original messages, and I tried to stay faithful to it more so at first, even if I later removed some of the pure crack. But the style was also vaguely similar, with the story being told mostly from Nagisa’s perspective with swaps to Karma when it made sense. All the main plot beats, too, are pretty much identical. The plus to this was I was able to add a lot of really fun foreshadowing, and I feel like it’s a fun reread because of it. 

Honestly though, if there’s a demand to release those OG message logs, I will. Mostly because it’s kind of funny, and interesting to see. Isogai and Nagisa were engaged at one point, even. 

Obviously, it changed somewhat. 3000 was the minimum length, and the time to completion was whenever it felt right. One of my big concerns was about pacing, so it took a lot more fleshing out and maybe ‘filler’ content for some of the main arcs to work. 

There’s parts of TINSITOGS I don’t think aren’t written that well, and some that I’m still super proud of. I think you can definitely tell there’s a gradual shift in style, and I get a lot more comfortable with writing them as characters as it goes along. To be honest, my pride for the fic overall is what it represents. 

It is funny to think about the places it got written in, though. I started it when I worked at McDonalds with no life direction, then it went through my first year of university with me. It’s been written in at least four countries. Aeroplanes, night clubs, long haul buses, a train through the Japanese southern coastline. Even the start of covid. TINSITOGS managed to see a lot. I even turned a scene in (the boat scene during the India chapter with altered names) to my university as a legitimate assignment. 

There were also a few messages I wanted to achieve, once I realised I had the platform to put them across. One of them was, obviously, ‘use protection kids’. It was important to me that I didn’t glamorise it too much, and I think that came across. I also wanted to dispute some of the issues with ABO, and subvert the consent issues as much as I could. An arc I really ‘liked’ writing was how abuse doesn’t always look the same way, and that it can be a drawn out change in behaviour. How the most important part of ‘being a good parent’ isn’t perfection, but genuinely loving and doing the best you can for your kid. How love doesn’t solve everything, and effective communication can take a very long time to learn and build a functional relationship. I mean, there definitely was a lot I tried to put in, and you’re free to interpret it all how you want. But, I like to think some people learnt some of these things, at least. 

Daichi 

Honestly, Daichi developed almost of his own free will. I had a good idea of his appearance, and that he was smart. Writing him from birth until around nine years old (older if you read the sequel fic) pretty much allowed that fluidity. It was really fun to explore a nature vs nurture development, and let his own characteristics speak for themselves. 

He’ll always have a special place in my heart. 

This is the first image I ever made. When I was trying to figure out what Daichi looked like, I honestly just edited Karma’s hair (pretty well, actually? I’m impressed with my past skill). That’s where the ‘he looks just like Karma’ meme kind of came from. 

This was the first image I actually created of Daichi. I THINK it was on rinmaru games mega anime creator or something, but it’s literally not available on the internet anymore as far as I can tell, so I can’t double check. This was in the pre-piccrew days. His eyes are closed because they didn’t have the right tone of goldish/silver.  

His sister, Kaguya, didn’t even exist originally, even though I decided on that ending pretty early on. Actually, she was going to be called ‘Irina’ due to some hijinks. Initially, when Karma found out about Irina’s pregnancy, she was going to get super emotional and mad at him and basically force him to name his first born daughter after her. Karma agreed to shut her up, never intending to have another child, so when the surprise second child later came along they had to live with the pain. However, to be honest I just forgot to write in the actual scene that set it all up, and I decided against adding it anywhere else. The name Kaguya was a very last minute decision, and it was a chance for me to explore some ideas that didn’t fit with Daichi’s character. 

Interestingly too, Daichi and Nao were never intended to be a thing. I only decided that towards the VERY end. Even though the reason I named Nao that was because of a ship I had in a J Drama (Good Morning Call). It just kind of ended up happening because I won myself over with imagining the cute. 

The music 

I used to write with a lot of background music, though not all the time. Particularly towards the start, there was a lot that didn’t really make sense thematically, yet I would write to a lot. 

Here’s a link to the spotify playlist if you want it it’s basically all the ones I noted I’d listened to a lot. Not including the smut ones, though, I have a whole playlist for that. 

Some of the notable ones: 

Five String Serenade - the first scene I wrote of the entire fic, in Chapter 25 New Year Time where they fell asleep cuddling. 

Cosmic Love - when I wrote Nagisa’s love confession scene in hospital (I also wrote this pretty early on) 

Northern Downpour (though it was actually a cover by Emma Blackery) - The chapter after Daichi’s born (30) 

When The Party’s Over -  Confession Time Third Period, Chapter 69. I literally listened to this song on REPEAT when I planned and wrote the kind of ‘break up’ scene, and it’s one of the few parts that made me cry writing. 

Turning Page - I know I said no smut, but this song actually gave me the idea to have the “I love you” in chapter 108 be less on a whim and actually more built up. In the original plan, Karma really did just say it without thinking. I’m glad I changed that.  

Bury Me Low and Numb - pretty much all I listened to when writing the last few chapters, because Evil Nagisa core. So much so that Bury Me Low was in my top 2020 songs rewind. 

As for the title, there’s actually quite a funny story. I had no idea what to call the fic, and when that happens I usually just try and find some song lyrics. I really wanted to use something from ‘October’ by the Broken Bells. Not only because it’s my favourite song (has been for years), but thematically it really worked. The issue was, it worked as the WHOLE song, there were no individual lyrics that captured everything. And, if they did, they didn’t flow very well. And naming the fic ‘October’ would have been weird for a lot of reasons. There Is No Sweeter Innocence That Our Gentle Sin really was just plucked randomly, in a desperate search to find any snappy lyrics from any song that had some kind of meaning. After a bit of discussion, we settled that it kind of worked... if Daichi is innocent and they committed a sin or something. It also wasn’t the most obvious lyric from the song (Take Me To Church if anyone doesn’t know) so I just went with it. It works out, I think, because TINSITOGS turned out to be a pretty good acronym and pronounceable word in its own right. 

The merch  redbubble drama 

It’s a well known fact that I’m not very good at art. However, I decided to try pixel art because it seemed the easiest to not mess up. I made Karma and Nagisa, before deciding to also give Daichi a try. 

This, to this day, is the only good quality art of Daichi that I actually own. The only one I’m actually happy sharing and thinking it doesn’t look terrible. As much as I love people sending me fanart, it’s not ‘my property’, right. 

So, I was kind of joking about TINSITOGS having merchandise. At first I just made two funny quote things, and uploaded it to redbubble. I was never intending to actually make money from this, and I’d agreed to myself that if I did, I would just donate it to charity. I was joking with the quotes, but since I had this artwork I figured I may as well uploaded. Separately, there was also an image that had pixel Daichi next to pixel Nagisa and Karma (which I also created). 

Aside from showing up in a few people’s adverts across the internet, there was no real harm with this. In fact, I didn’t make money anyway. It was just... more the joke of it existing. I did, however, buy myself a Daichi phone case, which is one of my favourite possessions. 

The funny ‘drama’ comes in when they got taken down due to copywrite. Sure, the one with Nagisa and Karma, I understand. But the other three literally had no mention or anything to do with Assassination Classroom, aside from being from a fanfiction. So basically, someone who owns those rights claimed my OC as theirs. Which makes Daichi canon? Whatever the case, I found this hilarious don’t worry. 

How has TINSITOGS changed my life? 

This is quite a strange thing to think about. Because, in a lot of ways, it really hasn’t. As I’m sure a lot of people know, I don’t really consider myself to have any real ‘fame’, despite the impressive numbers. Whenever I tell people in my personal life, they seem to think I’m some sort of internet celebrity, but that’s never been the case for me. I mean, it’s hardly a cultural phenomenon. 

In a lot of ways, I’d much rather befriend someone than have them admire me. Possibly because being someone’s inspiration is kind of weird... I’m just an awkward duck who likes to write after all. I don’t mind it, though. I genuinely find it an honour, even if I don’t necessarily agree. I also want to take this time to say that if anyone ever wants to talk or message me, you’re more than free to do so. I’m usually super casual with people who do that, I promise. 

TINSITOGS was the first story I ever finished in the way I truly wanted to. Start to end, a full narrative. And it took a LOT. There were so many times I almost felt like quitting, or took super long breaks. For me, ADHD queen, actually finishing something was a huge deal. And I know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t owe it to everyone who read it, and myself, to see it through. You know like, if I were to die tomorrow, at least I’ve left something behind. 

In a lot of ways, it’s changed me for the better. It’s helped me develop my writing styles, and way of thinking. It encouraged me to become more active in the fandom, and develop some important friendships. I always feel like my Tumblr and Fanfiction ‘known’ factor is separate. I think most of my Tumblr following is more to do with my theories/Japanese context research if anything, for example, but I know I wouldn’t be so interested in that if TINSITOGS hadn’t lead me to deeply examine character and really look into analysing source material for clues. I also think there’s just... a lot of myself in it. 

I was 17 years old, when I first came up with the idea. I finished the story when I was 20. Now, at the time of writing, I’m 21. That time has seen some pretty significant changes - just in general life facts and my own personal human development. For me at least, a lot of that was pretty turbulent, and TINSITOGS stands as a time capsule for that, in a way. 

I know I gained a lot of confidence, and it affirmed to me that writing is what I love. Telling stories and sharing them is what I love. 

Conclusion

Do I think TINSITOGS is an outstanding piece of writing, or the best fic ever? No. I really don’t. It’s strange to say because I definitely spent a lot of time on it, but it’s not like I put my full unbridled efforts into the story. I don’t fully plan, use a beta, or even read through on my own. And that’s okay - that’s not what I write fanfiction for. Fanfiction is my place to have fun with characters and stories I like, without the pressures of having to stand on my own complete originality. Yes, I’m fully confident that I can write at a “higher quality”, if I really wanted to. I’m also aware that some authors put their full effort into their fics, and that’s just as valid! 

It feels odd to say this about my own writing, but I honestly think there’s just something in this story. It might not be written in the best prose ever, and the premise might be kind of dumb for a lot of people. But, I think, there’s some part of this fic that managed to grab people. Somehow, at some point, many readers get captured into the emotions and so drawn in that ‘they just have to finish it now!’ Again, I’m not sure myself how I actually achieved that. Of course, that won’t apply to everyone, but I do feel there’s some truth in it. And it makes me happy, to have caused that. 

If TINSITOGS is your favourite fic, or if you genuinely think it’s the best story you’ve read, then thank you. I really appreciate your support, and I’m happy to have been a part of your life, I guess. I know how much fanfics can mean to a person, and that’s why I’m not going to take it down, or edit it at all. And it’s fine too, if you loved the fic for a while and moved on -i t happens. Whatever the case, I’m very honoured to have been able to occupy a moment of your life. Or if you find this fic in 10 years time, even, I still wholly appreciate you. 

This story was incredibly important to me, and thank you for reading if it was ever important to you too. 

You may ask, what now? Well, this is only intended to be a detailed look back for whoever’s interested, and it’s likely the only one I’ll actually do, a year after completion. Of course, if you ever want to ask me anything or just discuss the story, you’re honestly good to contact me in whatever way I have available. 

I’m still writing my ongoing stories, of course, despite taking a small break due to the university work load. I fully intend to complete the stories I’ve already started to tell, at least. After that... I’m not sure if I’ll still write fanfiction. Don’t panic, this isn’t a ‘I’m quitting writing’ thing. I may, however, have bled the Karmagisa genre a bit too dry at that point. Who knows? I am pretty interested in writing something original for once, so maybe that’ll work out. 

For now, at least, thank you to anyone who read this fic. To anyone who commented, liked, or interacted with me over it. To anyone who created or learnt from it. I’m really glad that I got to share this story with you all, and ultimately left some kind of mark, no matter how big or small. 

Happy birthday, TINSITOGS. I had a lot of fun writing you. 

[labyrinth-runner]

“We can share the bed. If that’s not weird” ~ Obidala if you’re alright with it! Thank you!!

I was a little inspired by Mulan for this?

Title:  Oh, Captain, My Captain.

Padmé looked up at her handmaiden, a smile on her face at how light it felt without the usual caked-on makeup. She looked into the face of Sabé, her mirror. 

Sabé’s brow furrowed in concern, “We are not sure that you should do this.”

Padmé bowed slightly, picking up a helmet to tuck under her arm. “We are brave, your highness.”

“It is not your bravery that we doubt,” Sabé said in a soft voice as she gently placed a hand on Padmé’s shoulder. 

“So it is our army that you doubt?” Padmé asked, a brow raised and a slight smirk on her lips.

Sabé shook her head, “We shall not dissuade you.”

Padmé nodded and settled her helmet on her head. Then, she snuck into the ranks of troops in front of her majesty’s dais, waiting for her to address the crowd. She watched as Sabé snuck back to the stairs and made her grand entrance.

“We have faith in our forces, and we know that you shall do well to protect us,” Sabé said in the queen’s slight monotone. “We look forward to seeing you all come home in victory soon.”

The troops all cheered. Padmé looked around and joined in, a rush of excitement going through her. This is where the fun begins.

The battles dragged on, and Padmé soon found herself becoming close with her fellow soldiers. She was always careful about undressing so that they wouldn’t discover her true identity. In fact, only a precious few had seen her without her helmet on. One of them was her tent mate, Major General Kenobi. She had quickly risen in the ranks, having shown her battle strategy and earning her place as his aide-de-camp.

“Naberrie, can you get me my-” he trailed off as she placed a cup of tea in front of him. He looked up from his reading, “Ah, yes, thank you. And my-”

Padmé placed an apple on his table.

He frowned, “I was hoping for a biscuit.”

“You need to be healthier. Can’t have you falling down in battle before you’re due,” Padmé teased.

Obi-Wan fixed her with an intense look before smiling, crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes.  “You’re too good to me,” he chuckled as he picked up the apple and the cutting knife next to it. He wagged the knife at her slightly, a weird look of sadness in his eyes, “I’m sure you’ll make some woman very happy someday.”

Padmé blushed slightly at his words. “I just want to make sure you’re ready for the battle tomorrow, General. I would hate for you to rendezvous with General Jinn when you’re not at your best.”

“I thought I was always at my best, Captain,” he winked.

“Or so you would like to think,” she shot back.

He blushed slightly and looked down at his teacup. “You’re dismissed for the night, Captain Naberrie.”

“Are you sure, Sir?”

He nodded, “Get some sleep. If I am to be at my best, then I need my aide-de-camp to be at his best in order to make me look even better.”

Padmé saluted him before giving him a shake of her head. “Good night, General.”

“Good night, Captain.”

Padmé removed herself to her side of their tent. With great care to her uniform, she slowly took off the cumbersome pieces until her ensemble was comfortable enough to sleep in. As always, she pulled her hair into a tight, low ponytail as was fashion amongst the ranks. She slipped into her cot for the night and let exhaustion take over her.

Obi-Wan stayed up into the late hours of the night until his candle started to die down. When the wax started to spill onto his table, he decided to go to bed. As he passed by his Captain’s cot, he had a weird look in his eyes as he noticed how his Captain’s hair haloed his face in tendrils. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Obi-Wan caught himself staring and blinked, shaking his head before going back about his business.

Padmé stirred slightly when she heard the General’s cot creak under his settling weight. 

The next day, the General’s troops packed up camp and prepared to meet with General Jinn. Padmé rode on her horse next to General Kenobi until they met with them at the top of a battlefield.

Destruction stretched in front of them. She swallowed at the loss of life.

“Ah, General Kenobi,” General Jinn smiled, “It’s about time you showed up.”

General Kenobi shared a smile, “It’s good to see you, too.” His gaze took over the battlefield. “We are losing.”

“You’ve come in the nick of time with my reinforcements,” Jinn commented. “We’ll push forward with the siege.”

“With all due respect, General, but if that is what we have been doing, then perhaps we should change the strategy,” Padmé commented as she surveyed the field.

“And who are you?” Jinn asked.

“Captain Naberrie,” Obi-Wan introduced, “My aide-de-camp. He has quite the head for battle.”

Qui-Gon appraised her, and Padmé could have sworn she saw a glint of intrigue in his eyes. “I’m sure he does. What do you think, Captain?”

Padmé swallowed as she turned back to him from the field. “I think we should separate the troops into two groups and outflank them by going through the forest. Their colors would stand out, but we would blend in.”

“A veritable strategy,” Qui-Gon commented. “I see why he keeps you around. I’ll inform the men to retreat so that we may regroup and follow your strategy, Captain Amidala.”

Padmé bristled, but Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed the slip up.

“I think you’ve impressed him,” Obi-Wan commented when they were alone. “That’s no easy feat.”

Padmé smiled at him as she tugged on her horse’s reins, “And you knew him from before.”

“He was my professor at the academy,” Obi-Wan explained before nudging his horse back to the rest of his men. 

The battle was fierce and long, but the amount of men lost was minimal in comparison to the previous strategy. Although, the wounded were many. When Obi-Wan breached the enemy lines and sent them into a retreat, he turned triumphant towards his aide-de-camp to find that they were not there. He turned, eyes frantic to find that Captain Naberrie was on the ground meters behind him, having been thrown from their horse after being shot. Quickly, he dismounted and went to his Captain’s side.

“Stay with me, Naberrie,” he murmured as he knelt down. With all the care in the world, he scooped Padmé up and took her back to base to be seen by a medical professional. 

Soon enough, he was pacing outside the tent as a professional tended his Captain’s wounds.

Qui-Gon dismounted outside the tent, “Are you trying to wear a path into the ground?”

Obi-Wan paused and saluted, “General.”

“At ease. What happened?”

“The Captain was shot at and thrown from his horse,” Obi-Wan informed him, worry apparent on his face.

Qui-Gon frowned, “If she’s wounded, you’ll have to take her home. The battlefield is no place for a lady.”

“She?” Obi-Wan said incredulously.

Qui-Gon looked at him with a smirk, “You’ve shared a tent with her majesty and didn’t recognize her this entire time?”

“You’re telling me that Captain Naberrie is....” Obi-Wan trailed off. “Oh heavens, she’s been serving me when I should have been serving her!”

Padmé chose that moment to get out of her cot and throw open the flap, wincing at the movement, “I can assure you, General, you serve me well enough with your military campaign.”

“Your highness,” Obi-Wan said as he bowed.

Padmé tilted his face up to see hers. Softly, she murmured, “At ease, General.”

Obi-Wan locked eyes with her and swallowed the lump in his throat before straightening. “As you wish.”

“Obi-Wan, I’m giving you new orders to escort the Queen back to the palace,” Qui-Gon said, interrupting their moment.

“Absolutely not,” Padmé protested, “I’m needed here.”

“Your majesty, you are not safe here. We must get you home,” Qui-Gon replied with only a touch of exasperation, “What will your people do if you perish? Sabé cannot take over forever.”

Padmé opened her mouth and then promptly shut it before going back into the tent to sit. She couldn’t leave Sabé in charge. Sabé hated politics. Padmé sighed, “I’ve already left her in charge long enough, haven’t I?”

Obi-Wan smirked, “Long enough to make Captain.”

She smirked at him, “I had an inspiring General.”

“The palace is about two day’s ride to the south if you don’t stop,” Qui-Gon informed them. “You are to leave immediately before the enemy catches wind that the Queen is even here. You’ll take the messenger’s horse. It’s the fastest.”

“What will the messenger use?” Padmé asked.

Qui-Gon smirked, “He’s got feet, hasn’t he?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “You’re horrible.”

“That’s ‘you’re horrible, General’ to you,” Qui-Gon winked, “Now get out of here.”

In an instant, Obi-Wan scooped Padmé up in his arms and carried her towards the corrals. 

“I can walk,” Padmé murmured.

“You took a nasty tumble earlier,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Obi-Wan, you know I’m capable,” she replied in frustration. “Treat me as you always have.”

Obi-Wan looked down at her, “Your majesty, it’s hard to just go back to that.”

“Why?” She asked as he placed her in the saddle and swung up behind her.

“Because of who you are and the type of person that I am,” he replied before setting the horse into a run.

Padmé sighed as she leaned into him and settled into the trip. A silence settled around them.

General Kenobi looked down at the woman in his arms. He was nervous, but most of all, he was confused. He’d always though his Captain was a handsome man, but now faced with the truth that she was a beautiful woman, he was left reeling. He considered him, nay, her to be his best friend on that field. She was brilliant in a way that most couldn’t even come close to touching. He didn’t know what he was to do without her. She kept his life in order and held him together in more ways than he dared to admit. Now, he was faced with the issue of returning her home. He felt awful for not waiting on her instead of the other way around. Most of all, he felt foolish that he hadn’t realized it sooner, and hurt that she hadn’t told him.

“You’re quiet,” she ventured finally, “it’s unlike you.”

“Is it?” he asked softly. “Perhaps we both don’t know each other quite as well as we thought.”

Padmé stiffened in his hold before turning to look at him over her shoulder. “General, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Do I?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Because everything that I thought I knew, I apparently did not.”

“Obi-Wan, I never lied to you,” she replied adamantly.

“You lied about being a man!”

“You never asked,” she shot back.

“And your name.”

“Naberrie is my maiden name,” she replied.

“Oh.”

They walked on in silence for a few strides before Padmé sighed.

“I am sorry,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied. “I understand why you would go to such lengths. It’s actually admirable that you care so much about your people as to risk your own life to ensure theirs.”

A quiet understanding enveloped them, then. The knowing that although it may have been started under false pretenses and conclusions, their friendship was still real. It was still valid. They had still been through a war at each other’s side, and nothing would change that.

The rhythmic pitter patter of rain on the forest canopy above could be heard. It started gradually before growing in strength to the point where they were shouting to be heard above the din.

“We should stop for the night!” Obi-Wan yelled as thunder clapped above them. He had taken his cape and held it over their heads to try and protect them from the downpour. “If we go on like this, we’ll get ill!”

“We’ll stop at the next in!” Padmé yelled back. 

Obi-Wan pulled up to the next inn they came across, holding the door open for her once they arrived. 

“There’s only one room left,” the innkeeper said as he slid the key over. He gave Padmé an odd glance at her choice in outfit and she looked down to find she was still in her uniform. 

“I ran out of clothes,” she explained quickly.

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Third door on the right.”

Padmé gave him a gracious nod and started down the hall with Obi-Wan. When they reached the room, she started up the fireplace out of habit.

“You should let me,” Obi-Wan said as he took the prod from her.

“If you wish, General,” she sighed before she started to peel off her layers as they clung to her skin.

“Y-your majesty?” Obi-Wan stammered.

“Obi-Wan, our clothes are soaked. If we don’t let the majority of them dry then we won’t have anything to wear,” she replied as she draped her clothes over the back of the chair until she was just in her undershirt and underwear.  “You, too, General. I won’t have you getting sick on my account.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “That’s not proper.”

Padmé rolled her eyes and moved to undress him. “I will not have my friend catch his death due to modesty.”

He looked down, watching as her nimble fingers unbuttoned and peeled off his jacket. He stopped her when she went towards his pants. “I can handle that,” he murmured, unbuttoning and sliding them down until they matched in states of undress.

Together, they sat on the couch, trying to dry the clothes they were still wearing by the warmth of the fire. Obi-Wan draped his arm around the back of the couch. Padmé leaned into his side for his body heat, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

“Would you have let me stay?” she asked seriously.

“Maybe,” he sighed, “I already don’t know what I’ll do without you, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ve become that important to you?” she asked, tilting up to look at him.

He looked down at her with a small smile, “You’re indispensable.”

Padmé felt her cheeks heat up from his words and not the fire, turning away from the intensity of his gaze. Reaching up, she touched her shirt to find that it had dried. “We should get some rest,” she murmured.

“I’ll take the couch if you want. Or we could share the bed if that’s not odd,” Obi-Wan murmured.

“Why would it be odd? We’ve shared both bed and tent before,” she replied as she got up to cross the room.

“Yes, but that was different. It was before...”

“Before, what, you knew who I was?”

“Well, quite frankly, yes,” he replied.

“Does that knowledge really change so much between us?” she asked in exasperation as she threw back the covers and got into bed.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied seriously as he gently got into his side of the bed.

“Why?” She asked, turning to face him in bed.

“It makes my attraction to you less awkward,” he admitted.

Padmé blushed, “Attraction?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan murmured as he gently took her hair out of the low ponytail she had it in. He cupped her cheek with his hand before tucking hair behind her ear.

Padmé looked up at his eyes that were so intensely focused on her lips, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t mutual.”

“Oh?” he asked in amusement.

“You’re capable, charming, and handsome, General. What’s not to like?”

“Please, your majesty. Call me Obi,” he murmured.

“And you may call me Padmé. You’ve more than earned the right, Obi,” she murmured as she felt his arm wrap around her. She slowly drew nearer. As her nose bumped his, she let herself melt into him as their lips connected. She closed her eyes to heighten her other senses, feeling his lips move firmly against hers as his hands slipped into her hair. She kissed back harder and harder. Their motions became desperate until she pulled back for air.

Obi-Wan took stock of how flushed her cheeks looked and how rosy her lips were from the kiss. He had kissed his Queen. His eyes widened slightly with the realization.

Padmé opened her eyes to her General. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him. Most of all, she’d liked it. He looked at her so intently. It was a way that made her feel seen. She hoped he’d always see her. The thought thudded in her chest: Did she love her General? Her eyes widened in the realization as she swallowed a lump in her throat and immediately turned over in bed.

“Good night, General.”

“Good night, your majesty,” Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand down his face as he faced the other direction.

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 21 - Dearly Departed

Title: Irreverent Pt. 21 - Dearly Departed Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: R Words: 2934

Irreverent Series Masterlist

"You're leaving?" It was Derek who had managed to speak first. The rest of you were still processing what Hotch had said.

"I have been given a temporary assignment in Pakistan by the Director and have been told I have minimal choice in the matter. In the interim, Morgan will be Unit Chief." That's what he'd said. You were pretty sure you'd heard him correctly. On their own each of those words held meaning. But strung together like that and coming from Hotch, they might as well have been gibberish as far as you were concerned.

He looked upset at having to leave. He doesn't want to. You tried telling yourself that. But this was also Hotch. You'd seen him stand up to Strauss on countless occasions for the better of the team. So why was he just going along with this? Why was he abandoning you while you were in the middle of the search for Doyle? What about Emily? What about the team? What about you?

You looked around and saw your thoughts in everyone's mind. Penelope still looked struck. Derek seemed more pissed off than anything else. Spencer looked broken - he'd had it the worst with Emily's death. You knew JJ had been with him a lot the past few days. Even Rossi seemed upset. You wondered if Hotch had bothered telling him first on his own or if this was intended to be dropped on everyone all at once.

You could feel the stillness in your body. You weren't sure what you felt yet. Upset? Abandoned? Angry? All of the above? Hotch was clutching the papers that were undoubtedly his marching orders, tightly in his hand.

"What about Jack, Aaron?" It was Rossi who asked that.

You should move. Say something. But what?

"I've arranged for him to stay with Jess while I'm away. He should be alright there."

JJ was still gone too…Hotch was leaving. You looked around at the rest of the team seated at the table and you could feel Derek shouldering the full weight of what Hotch was asking of him.

You felt Hotch's eyes on you. You still hadn't spoken. What was there to say?

*------------*

You'd kept in touch with Clyde Easter after you guys had released him from detainment. At first you'd reached out to him to tell him about Emily - you felt like he should know. He'd come to the funeral and the two of you had spoken briefly. Before he left, he'd tucked a card with a different number on it in your hand.

The two of you had been corresponding for some months now as he worked Doyle from the Interpol angle. With Hotch gone, Derek had wanted to ramp up the search for Doyle but he'd been shut down by Strauss citing jurisdiction. You were forced to move underground. After months of nothing, Clyde had gotten solid proof that Doyle was moving and there might be a window of opportunity coming up. It was time to bring Derek in.

*------------*

"So let me get this straight, after Strauss shut it down, you took it upon yourself to open communication with Interpol to continue investigating Doyle?" You'd called Rossi and Derek over to your house under the ruse of dinner, feeling it would be safest. After dinner the three of you had sat at your dining room table over drinks, when you'd decided to reveal the true nature of the invite.

"Yes," you replied, standing to grab the file from the back of your hidden wall safe. "Here's everything I have on Doyle. Per Clyde," you note the look Rossi and Derek gave one another when you referred to Easter by his first name, "Doyle has operations underway but he has a visibility issue, forcing him underground for the most part. However, he has a meeting scheduled with his stakeholders for which he has to be present. That's our window of opportunity."

"And you trust Easter?" Rossi had left looking through the file you'd put in front of them to Derek. He chose to watch you instead.

"No, but he has nothing to gain by lying to us about this. He's still on Doyle's list and he would much rather we go after him than have Doyle barging through his front door."

"You should've told us, Y/N." Derek had flipped through the file and confirmed what you'd relayed to them.

"Look, you can choose to be pissed at me for not reading you in earlier, or you can help me go after Doyle." You weren't about to be guilted into feeling bad about how you went about this.

"Help you?" Derek raised his eyebrows at your word choice.

"I'm doing this with or without you."

He scoffed and finished his drink. "Yeah, you and what army?"

"I won't fight with you Derek. You want to be pissed, go be pissed. Break something and get it out. But don't act like you don't want to go after Doyle. You're not upset I did this. You're upset you didn't."

His shoulders tensed, feeling the brunt of your retort. You thought he might lash out at you again, but he seemed to be coming to terms with the situation much faster than you had anticipated.

"We still need to find where the meeting is going to happen."

"All we need in order to do that, is leverage over the right person. I have someone in mind," you responded. You'd thought this through. To the end.

"We need to call Aaron."

*------------*

He'd grown a beard. He was back after seven months and that was the first thing you noticed. What anyone noticed really. Besides that he looked tan and more rugged than usual, though that could be chalked up to the lack of a suit. He was dressed like a civilian. Which made sense. He wasn't SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief. That title was still Derek's. As far as you knew, he was simply SSA Aaron Hotchner, temporarily in Pakistan running a joint task force. If the definition of temporarily had been swapped out with indefinitely, that is.

"Sir, the beard suits you," Penelope had told him in greeting.

"Thank you Garcia." Those were the first words you'd heard from him in seven months.

You hadn't gotten up to greet him. You'd looked up in his direction when he entered and smiled, stifling seven months' worth of anger tight inside. It didn't pass your notice that Spencer hadn't stood up either. At least someone else was also sick of taking the high road. You needed that kind of camaraderie.

"Morgan read me in before I arrived. If you're ready, we can talk through the plan to obtain the meeting location and see how it should be executed." Funny how quickly he fell back into the role of Unit Chief. As if he hadn't absconded the throne.

"It's handled. I'm running point on it. You're welcome to join the others in the van or listen in from here with Garcia."  Your voice came out a little harsher than you'd intended.

He looked a little surprised but quickly recovered and nodded.

*------------*

"Subject is approaching." Spencer's voice came through the earpiece you had on. You were seated at a restaurant downtown, your hands folded in front of you on the white linen tablecloth. You remembered this place from one of the first times your father had visited you whilst you were doing your training at Quantico. He had come to talk you out of it but hadn't been able to resist taking you to a nice meal.

"Hello sister."

Dominic had arrived with his permanently cocky smirk firmly in place. He took off his coat and sat down across from you, unbuttoning the bottom button on his jacket. A waiter arrived to bring him a drink menu. You'd been nursing yours for some time now. After he had ordered, he looked right at you. He was trying to mimic your father's infamous staredowns. It fell flat coming from him. Maybe you had to actually be afraid for it to have its desired affect.

"So, you've finally come to your senses, have you?" He leaned back in his chair as the waiter quickly dropped his drink off.

"How are Katie and Amara?"

His brow furrowed slightly before he answered. "Katie is fine, she sends her regards. Amara is seven now. She's started second grade."

You smiled. It had been some time since you saw your niece. "That's a good age."

"Yeah, she's cute. She made a family tree for class, you know. Made sure to put you on it. Julian too."

"That's sweet," you answered, stirring your drink with the straw provided. "You love Amara, don't you Dom?"

There was a pause before he replied, his brow furrowed more if that were possible. "She's my daughter Y/N. Of course I love her."

"She's your daughter. You wouldn't want any harm to come to her."

His shoulders tensed immediately as he leaned in closely to you across the table. "What the fuck are you trying to say?"

"Just that it is regretful when children get hurt because they become pawns in their parents' wars."

He was still leaning across the table and his next words came out dangerously low. "You think you can just come in here and threaten me? Threaten my family? And you'll get away with it?"

"You have two options Dom. Tell me where Valhalla is meeting his stakeholders."

"Or?"

"I'm sorry, I misspoke. You only have one option. That was it."

"And if I don't comply?"

"There are US Marshalls waiting to escort you home so that you can grab your wife and daughter and pack any personal belongings. They'll take care of you."

"You didn't say what happens if I don't comply."

You looked at him sitting across from you in his expensive suit. Being almost fifteen years older than you, Dominic used to intimidate you. He was never the brother that spoiled you. When you'd been born he'd been a spoiled teenager used to bullying and taking his misplaced anger out on Julian. But your father wouldn't have stood for anyone laying a hand on you (Except him apparently, you thought, thinking back to your last encounter with your father.), so Dominic had tortured you in other ways.

You fixed Dominic with a small smile geared to unnerve him, before answering his question. "Papa used to say that I was the pretty one. Julian was his artist. But you Dom, you were always the smart one, right?"

You stood and retrieved a $100 bill from your pocket and placed it under the drink glass.

"You have fifteen minutes. I'll be outside. Clock's ticking."

*------------*

Hotch and Derek stood next to you as the Marshalls helped your brother into the back of the dark SUV across the street.

"You threatened a child in there, Y/N." His voice was low, and yet still carried the full force of his accusation.

You felt the roiling anger bubbling to the top. He had no right to tell you how to handle this. "I won't make excuses for how I choose to fix the mess you ran away from," your rebuke was at the tip of your tongue and thrown at him before he could prepare for the rally. With that, you turned and left, leaving him to watch you walk back to the van.

*------------*

The following day, Hotch had asked the team to come to the conference room first thing in the morning. When you had walked in, you saw JJ standing in a corner talking to Hotch. You'd smiled at her despite being confused as to why she was there. Once everyone was seated Hotch stood at the front of the room. JJ was standing too. Why was she standing? Why was she here?

With all eyes focused on him, Hotch began speaking. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team."

Your mind went faster than he could speak. JJ was there. Seven months ago. When he left. When Emily died. Seven months ago he made a decision. JJ is here. She was at the hospital. Why had she been at the hospital that day?

"She's alive," you expelled, pushing up and away from the table and towards the back of the room, furthest from Hotch and the door, your realization propelling you to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the two people at the front of the room.

"What?" Spencer looked at you as you had interrupted Hotch's speech before it had even started.

"She's alive. Emily's alive. That's it right? That's why we're all here. That's why JJ is here and why she was at the hospital that night. Emily's alive." Your mouth was on autopilot as you spoke. The words had left your mouth before you'd truly understood what they meant yourself. It just…fit. It made sense.

"Y/N, we buried Emily. She's dead." Derek stood to move towards you, as if you were having a mental break.

You ignored him. You only looked at Hotch who had stopped speaking as soon as you'd stood up. Both him and JJ were looking at you in what could only be described as horror. Why they were horrified you didn't know. If anything you should be horrified. What does it say about me that I'm not even horrified at this. It's almost as if you'd seen the lies coming.

"Tell them." Your eyes bored into Hotch's. It was a credit to him that he hadn't looked away yet.

"Yes."

His confirmation was accompanied by the click clacking of familiar heels outside the conference room and then the door opened and there she was. Emily Prentiss. Back from the dead.

Penelope recovered first, leaping up to go hug Emily. She looked well, you noted. She was walking around the room. She'd hugged Hotch and JJ next. Now she'd moved on to Spencer who looked like he should be sedated. She was apologizing to everyone. Derek could barely bring himself to wrap his arms around her. Rossi recovered remarkably. He pulled her in for a hug and even kissed both her cheeks, causing her to laugh. You hadn't heard that laugh in seven months.

She was walking towards you. You felt yourself physically recoil.

"Y/N." JJ was using her mom voice. The voice that told you to be fair and kind and sharing is caring.

"Don't JJ." You turned away from Emily who was standing closest to you, to face the front again where Hotch and JJ stood. The only two people who had known. Who had watched the rest of you fall apart and allowed it to happen. And instead of sticking around to watch the fallout, they'd both been conveniently far away.

"How are we supposed to trust you? Either of you?"

"Y/N, that's not fair." It's the first time Emily had spoken directly to you in seven months.

"You were dead. But he was here. He saw what it did to us and then he just left and the whole time! He knew! He knew how it wrecked us." You voice fluctuated throughout and you were breathing as if you'd just run a marathon.

There was silence and then Derek was standing in front of you, shielding you from the rest. He tucked the strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear and leaned in to hold you so he could speak and not be heard. "Let's do this later. Eye on the prize, yeah?"

For him, you let it go. You owed him that. Not them.

*------------*

Hotch watched Morgan hold you and the visual was a gut punch.

No one else had said anything. But you were never quite that easy. You'd never once not shared exactly how you felt. Likely a testament to having stifled how you felt for years. After you'd confronted your father it was an awakening. You no longer held your punches and while it had been something Hotch had admired in the past, right now in this moment, when those punches were directed at him, he had to admit there was a downside. Even still, he couldn't help himself from being impressed. This was why he loved you. He no longer actively denied the fact.

Your words hurt more than he let on. He had prepared for Morgan to be pissed and for Reid to fall apart. From you he had hoped for a hug hello for both himself and Emily.

But then he had to remind himself of seven months ago. The hospital had been the last time you'd let him hold you. After that you'd been gone. There hadn't been any light behind your smiles. You hadn't confided in him about how much you missed Emily. Well you'd have to be around to have heard that wouldn't you. His guilty conscience had taken your side and was doing an excellent job beating him up in your silence since Derek had talked you down.

He couldn't deny that he was extremely worried about you. He'd talked to Derek after the Marshalls had picked up your brother but Derek had brushed him off, saying you were doing what had to be done to keep afloat. He wondered if Derek was right. You were treading water to stay afloat because he'd taken the life raft right from under you.

He worried how long you could keep going before the force of the waves drowned you.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Born To Die Vol.1 Tsukinami Carla [Track 5]

Original title: 贈り物の意味

Source: Diabolik Lovers Born To Die Vol.1 Tsukinami Carla [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toshiyuki Morikawa

Translator’s note: I started this translation somewhat reluctant because usually Carla CDs are very difficult for me and not something I necessarily ‘look forward’ to, but I was honestly pleasantly surprised! I enjoyed the plot a lot and there were a bunch of cute moments which made me go ‘aww’. This is the perfect way to wrap up the story as well. Since a non-Carla stan such as myself was able to enjoy it, I’m sure all of his fans will have a field day listening to this CD. xD

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: Meaning Behind the Gift

Carla ends the room as you look up.

“Hooh...You finished reading the book I recommended to you? I taught you, so it was not that difficult now, was it?”

You nod.

“I see. I am glad you enjoyed it. ...That book is truly fascinating. I even feel as if my understanding of a human’s way of thinking has improved significantly. That being said, I cannot deny that there are still parts of it which simply cannot be grasped by the things written in a book alone. However, even that is not a problem...”

You tilt your head to the side.

“I have you by my side after all. The desire to want to do something for someone else’s sake. To treasure those you love. You keep on teaching me all these things. My birthday which took place several days ago was no exception. I learnt for the first time how good it feels to have the person you love celebrate the day of your birth.”

You smile.

“Heh. Why do you seem so happy?”

You explain.

“Right. I feel warm inside when I see your joyful expression as well. You have yet again taught me a new emotion.”

You get up and tell him to hold on one second.

“What is the matter? You suddenly got up. Why are you telling me to wait...?”

You walk towards the door.

“...! Oi, wait! Where are you going...?”

*Creaaaak*

*Thud*

“...She left. I wonder what got into her all of a sudden? She said there is something she wants to give me, but what could she be talking about? I cannot read her actions per usual.”

You return.

“So you have returned. So, what did you go get?”

You offer him a present.

“...! A birthday present...? For me?”

You nod, apologizing because it is a bit late.

“I see. I did suddenly take you to our vacation home back then after all.”

You seem worried he might not accept it. 

“Hmph. How could I refuse a present coming from you,”

You hand him the gift.

“Of course. I assume you chose a gift fitting for the King of Founders?”

You nod confidently. 

“Heh. Seems like you are confident. In that case, let me open it.”

*Rustle rustle*

“...! These are...Hair pins...The flowers they are decorated with are...Gloriosa, no?”

You tell him about the flower language of the gloriosa.

“Glory and bravery is the flower language of these? You kept in mind my bravey in regard to my own fate, and my wish to ensure that the glory of us Founders does not come an end, right? ...However, I thought that red Gloriosa were the most common, but these are white. Is there a meaning behind that?”

You explain.

“Hm. I see. The combination of white with a slightly hint of red is the exact same as my hair. You are right that the coloring does look like me. That is why you chose this, no? You have quite the eye for this.”

You smile, asking if he likes it.

“Yes, I do. Well then, let me try putting it on right away.”

*Cling*

“What do you think?”

You tell him it looks great.

“I see. It suits me? You chose it after all. Furthermore...”

Carla scoots closer.

*Rustle rustle*

“It has become much easier to suck your blood now.”

You get flustered.

“What are you so surprised about? Did I not tell you back then? Did you not choose these hair pins because I told you that my hair can get in the way at times? Out of your desire to have me suck your blood to my heart’s content.”

You deny it.

“You tend to play dumb now? However, it is useless. I am already aware. That you are always yearning for me. The fact you have barely fought back after I pinned you down on the couch like this, proves that you had been expecting this, no?”

You flinch.

“Fufufu...I was spot on, wasn’t I?”

*Rustle*

“I can clearly tell by pressing my ear against your chest as well. Your heart his thumping loudly. Almost as if it is begging me to quickly suck your blood.”

*Rustle rustle*

“In that case, I must live up to your expectations. I shall suck your blood from this chest filled with anticipation. Relax. I will not bring you unnecessary pain.”

You nod.

“Very well. I’ll pierce my fangs in deep. Haahn...”

Carla bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

“Mm...”

*Sluuuurp*

“Haah...Letting out those sweet cries...I doubt there is any other woman out there more skilled at enticing a man.”

You protest.

“In that case, how do you explain this scent? I am surprised you can state the opposite when you are spreading your rich fragrance all around the room.”

He continues sucking your blood.

*Gulp*

“Haah...I can clearly tell that you crave for my fangs.”

You ask him how he knows. 

“The scent of your blood tells me everything. Of course, that plays a part as well. However, the number one reason is...because I love you.”

You smile at him lovingly. 

"And you feel the same, no?”

*Cling*

“This present is the best way to prove that.”

You confirm his words. 

“I see. You will tell me out loud, it seems? That you love me. Hearing it once again is not bad. However, simply confirming it through words is dull. Let me remind it to you with my body instead. Just how much I love you...”

Carla bites you once more.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Haah...I might just become a captive to this blood before I succeed at reminding you. That is just how much your very existence captivates me.”

*Rustle*

“However, I shall not give you the right to lead. As the woman of the King of Founders, you shall obey me. No, I suppose that is not quite the right term. Haah...”

*Rustle rustle*

“As my wife, please continue praying for the revival of the Founders.”

You promise.

“...Heh. I see. I shall never forget those words. Well then, this is the sign of your vow. Mmh...”

*Smooch*

“...Let us continue to march towards the future together, for eternity.”

ーー THE END ーー

[thewritingof-therose]

Hi! Last week, with the publishing of the 20th chapter of Hasard, I reached the 100 kudos on the fic, so to celebrate it, here’s some kind of bonus chapter where I talk a little about the conception of the story, along with comments about each chapters. 

Enjoy!

----

So… 20 chapters and 100 kudos already. To be honest, by the time I started imagining this story, I wasn’t really expecting to be able to celebrate that milestone of kudo on a single fic and even if I already celebrated the 2000 kudos in general this year, if we make a quick calcul based on the numbers of kudos and all the fics I’ve published, at the time I’m writing those words, it’s the same that if each one of my fic had only 20 kudos… So yeah, finally reaching the hundred on a single one makes me so happy \o/

Anyway, here’s some trivia and fun facts about Hasard and the first twenty chapters of the story.

First of all, some history:

I had the idea for Hasard in May 2018 as I was watching the tv show Lucifer (I am not up to date with it, please don’t try to spoil me this show ^^’) and I imagined one scene that just… shaped the entire story and it took me less than a few hours to know that I would write it. Even if I wasn’t sure how long it would be and that there had been some changes. And no, I won’t tell what scene kickstarted it all because she still has to come and it could be quite a huge spoiler. 

Following it, my brain quickly went into developing the full story and a few things changed. On the top of my head, I can say that Maiev was meant to be more on her own, almost a complete independent Hunter that would have also been resented by the other Hunters, along with a way more black and white view of the demons. She was meant to be more aggressive against all demons and really thinking that they all deserved to die, but I softened that side of her as I shifted the world building with the presence of hybrids. 

At first, the hybrids were meant to be a really rare kind and I wanted to keep that status for a few select characters because it could have brought some really good story for them. Then, as I kept working on the worldbuilding, I came to the idea that actually, hybrids were extremely common, but at the same time, the demon’s presence was still a secret from most of the world because most hybrids started centuries ago and their blood and physical attributions were weakening the more they were reproducing. So, about 80% of the world is made of hybrids of all kinds of generation (who is my way of scaling the demonic influence on their life) and the 20% left is shared with the full demons and full humans. 

Full demons are simply people who don't have a single drop of human blood in them. Usually, they are born from two other full demon parents or they just appeared like that (that’s the mytho). They are extremely powerful and good magic users, but now, they are rare. It was easier to be a full demon millenia ago when they ruled over the world and the few that are left in the current world of Hasard, survived either by hiding really well, manipulating their way to stay alive, or simply because they accepted to work with the humans and they went on. 

My best example of a full demon is Velen. 

The full humans, are the humans who either had never gotten a single drop of demon’s blood in their bloodlines, either they purged the bloodline after making sure that there had been at least 10 generations since the last time a hybrid was born (technically, every child following it would be considered as an hybrid, but the other parent would be a full human to weaken the demon’s blood which each new generation). Full humans are rarer than full demons and they tend to be bad news as almost all of them are associated with the Priesthood (who’ll get some more explanation later.)

I haven’t presented yet one of them to give an example, but one is ready to show up in the Second arc of the story. Won’t say who to not spoil the surprise x)

As for hybrids, there are two kinds. The one born from a demon and a human, and or hybrids (two hybrids will keep creating hybrids and technically, as long as one of the parents has human blood, the bloodline will stay a hybrid one). And the second one hadn’t been introduced yet. We have characters that are that kind, but it’s some worldbuilding elements that will show up later and so, I'll keep it to myself for now. Feel free to theorize though! And usually, most hybrids will simply call themselves demons instead of showing signs of weaknesses by not being a full one.

For the title of the story, it had been extremely hard for me to find one. Ever since I started preparing everything, it had a codename and it was “Modern AU” and it stayed like that until the very minute of the publishing of the first chapter. I was already going towards “Le Hasard Fait Bien Les Choses” but I was bothered because it was French, and no matter what, I couldn’t find a good English idiom that would have all the nuances of the French one. The only thing that comes close to it would be “Fate is a funny thing” and yet, I’m not entirely satisfied with it. So, after a long debate with myself and help from other people, I came to the conclusion that I had to keep the French title if I wanted to be happy with it. 

It might not help much to get people interested, and I’m considering adding “Fate is a Funny Thing” after it but I’m debating it.

I think that's already a lot, so let's move to the trivia per chapters:

A Muffled Shout In The Night

Oh boy, first chapter! I was so excited to finally start the story but I was also really stressed. I tried to give away a quick summary of how the universe was working, along with my two main characters + showing up the first supportive characters towards Maiev. Trying to present all the cast (so adding Illidari and more about Illidan) right in that chapter wouldn't have really worked so, instead, I went to show that a more "Legion-y" timeline could be expected thanks to Khadgar and Velen's presence in the chapter. 

I kinda hope that I succeeded to already show Maiev's obsession towards the Betrayer through her first lines.

Though I will be one hundred percent honest with you. The end of the chapter with Illidan running away, don't expect much from that interaction. I kind of always forget about it unless I'm reading back the chapter… I only needed a reason for them to stop fighting and the chapter to carry on.

But who knows, maybe I'll tie it to something one day.

Two Black Coffees And A Meeting, Please

When writing it, I always knew that Drelanim was on the other side of the call (or at least another Hunter) but as I read the moment a few times, I realized that I could have gone for a completely different way. One that would have probably surprised everyone.

But yeah, in another universe, it's Illidan who calls Maiev because he's in front of her place as they decided to meet for breakfast there. It would have been quite nice and unexpected for the story, especially that Illidan would have gotten right away the reveal that Maiev was actually the Warden as she would have complained about the wounds of the night. 

In the end, I went on with my first idea and made them meet for good in the chapter.

And, like with the first chapter… the "current problem" that he talks about to Kor'vas went nowhere… I'll more than probably get him to acknowledge some uninteresting side story for it at some point.

Memories Of A Rainy Day That Will Never Be Forgotten

For that one, one word: Ouch.

By the time I started to write this chapter, I was also preparing the Advent Calendar of 2019 and I had decided on telling Naisha's story, and I had to realize that I still had to foreshadow some elements from it to make it work. Of course, the title is fully referencing the day she died and the demon that Maiev killed right at the beginning of the chapter was similar to Naisha, putting Maiev in a stabbing mood. And it led us to another necessary addition for the Calendar's chapter: Malfurion.

(I'm also wondering how many people guessed right away that Malfurion was the one Illidan was calling…)

Brother, My Brother, Tell Me What We're Fighting For? 

Even if Malfurion had more of a cameo than anything in the Calendar's story, I felt the need to introduce him to put the bases of the twins' relationship. I always knew that he was a doctor and that he was mostly helping Illidan when he was getting in trouble, and as their backstory is different from WoW and that they are both demons, I didn't want to go on the canon path for them. 

I cannot tell much about it because we'll get fast to their backstory (Second arc) but here, Illidan and Malfurion mostly grew up in a world where it was them against the rest of the world. They were born during the glorious days when demons ruled the world and they saw it change through the millennia that followed. After everything, they would be devastated to lose the other and suddenly be the only one left. This is why they are way closer than they could ever be in canon (and also Tyrande isn't part of their backstory so it helped them keep a good relationship). Sometimes, they part ways for a few decades. Malfurion goes back to medical school somewhere and makes sure that he's up to date for it, or Illidan just moves with his clan to experience new things. But they stay in contact and always come back in proximity of one another.

The end of the chapter was my obligatory "shock reveal/cliffhangers" before a break. But well, I wanted to keep the Legion's existence in my sleeve for a little longer, but I realized that it would allow me to make them into a concrete threat as the story will progress + allowing Illidan and, mostly, the Illidari to be a little more presents into the story.

Actually, the chapter's name comes from a song from the occidental version of the first Pokemon movie. It's a line from the song that plays when the Pokemon and their clone fights, and i used it mostly for the brother's mentions and because it would totally be a thing said by one of the twins in their past…

A Flower Arrangement Made With Your Face In Mind

At that time, I wanted to make a chapter to develop a little more the supporting characters of the cast, and as I was taking back the writing of the fic after a four or five months break, I thought it would be nice. 

So, we got a little side dish of Illidari for it and that’s pretty much the only chapter (until now) where Illidan or Maiev barely appears in it. Yet, I threw some worldbuilding and foreshadowing in it and I still like it, so it isn’t really a filler.

I’ll probably do more chapters like that in the future, but I’ll see with the pacing of the story.

Willingly Accepting Your Death Isn't As Easy As I Thought

I don’t have much to say about this chapter. I still really like it and especially Maiev and Velen’s interaction. 

Along with showing that we were far from a potential romantic relationship, at least on Maiev’s side x)

A Laugh That Will Echo Through The Ages

Oh my God, that chapter! I could probably talk about it for hours but we would quickly reach the spoiler territory so I’ll see what I can tell without shooting myself in the foot.

I loved giving Khadgar some more identity and I like his relationship with Maiev. In the story, they are around 10 years apart, with Khadgar being the youngest. He’s like an honorary younger brother to every Hunter and even if Maiev won’t admit it, she’s kinda thinking the same. 

If he had been in the spotlight for this chapter, it was actually because I was thinking of writing his backstory for the Calendar of 2020 but in the end, I scrapped the idea and wrote something else. But It’ll happen at some point.

You Were In My Dream Last Night, And I Found You That Morning

A simple and nice chapter to calm down from the action heavy that was the precedent. I do throw some crumbs of foreshadowing and backstory, mostly for Maiev, but we will have to wait quite some time for the full one. Even if to be honest, before I release it fully, there will probably be some people that will stitch everything from my crumbs.

Illidan’s dreams are meant to be a plot point all through the story, and I decided to start them with this chapter. And of course, we can see that it’s the first chapter where Illidan, even if he isn’t conscious of it, starts to like Maiev more than he should have at that point.

A Red Dress And Heels To Hide The Knife In Plainsight

I loved writing that one. Showing that Maiev had more hobbies than hunting demons, along with showing how you had to act to get her to do things that she would refuse to do otherwise. Most of the time, if Sira gently asks if she wants to go do some shopping, Maiev always has something else to do. Not that she hates shopping, just that she thinks there’s better things to do. 

I could probably go more about Worgens and their existence, but it would spoil some part of the story :/ 

And honestly, I had an alternate version of this chapter where Illidan saw Maiev and Sira hurrying in the streets, followed them and he would have eavesdropped on the conversation about him. It was obviously bad because it was confirming that Maiev was at least a Hunter (which he won’t know until a while by that time) and it would have been totally an excuse for smut x)

A Warning Falling In Deaf Ears

With this chapter, I’ve been working on mixing the idea of chapters 5 (to concentrate on rest of the cast) with more of the main story. Like that, I show that there’s more than Illidan and Maiev in this universe, but at the same time, I’m still progressing their story by sharing the chapter between the two. I really liked writing Kayn like that and I think that one of my favorite things to write in this story, it’s Illidan and Malfurion interacting.

A Touch So Familiar, Yet So Strangely Threatening

I remember writing that chapter and suddenly realizing that it was going to be longer than the precedent, and i thought for a moment that I had to cut it in half, but I couldn’t find a satisfying way to do it, and it would have fucked up my outline, so I just carried on with it until I had told everything that I had to. 

With that chapter, I’m trying to show that Maiev can be really crazy when it comes to the Betrayer and his followers, but I can assure that she wouldn’t wound any of the Hunters, even if they cannot really be sure about it. And the little dialogue with the B-word made me laugh and yes, Maiev already called the Betrayer a bitch to his face. In 13 years, it would have been weird that she didn’t think of it at least once.

For the rest of the chapter, I just wanted to show that Maiev and Illidan were becoming comfortable with each other + setting up a reason for her to be worried about Illidan to show him her good side.

Screaming Under The Full Moon Won't Change Your Fate

The one thing I keep from this chapter, is that I can’t wait to dive more into Velen and Maiev's relationship.

Otherwise, yeah, if Illidan were to go into a fight only wanting to use magic, he could kill Maiev without breaking a sweat. But he likes the challenge and feels like it wouldn’t be satisfying to annihilate her with just a spell, so he’s fighting blade against blades, unless Maiev is really close to kill him.

A Fateful Call That Only You Can Be Blamed For

I have nothing much to say about it. It was one chapter that I really wanted to write and publish, because it’s the one where Illidan just let his guard down around Maiev for good, and now that he won’t try to trap her into admitting that she is the Warden, it allows him to see Maiev in another light.

That anyone can guess what it is.

Oh yeah, just that I threw some good crumbs of the fact that Illidan is a self-loathing addict in my fics and that it’s one of the reasons he falls so hard for Maiev after this chapter. But it’ll be a good talk for either another chapter, or later.

Going Separate Ways For A Night But Not The Life

Nothing to say, it was a transitional chapter to show that Illidan really believes that Maiev isn’t the Warden, and that there’s more than the fight to them.

Stab Me Once, Shame On You. Stab Me More Than Twice...

A fun little chapter. Velen is more modern than most people can believe and once again, I like writing about the interactions between Illidan and Malfurion. Of course, if you go back to read this one after chapter 20, you might see that I already knew how it was going to happen from this chapter, as the 20th got his title in this one.

I just hope that people read the story from the Advent Calendar 2020 to know what happened in the middle of it.

And From There, Fate Laughed At Them

I could talk for hours about Cordana in my AU. I just love what I’m going to do with her characters and I hope that my readers will like it too. 

But to give some crumbs, Maiev and Cordana have been best friends since high school and she’s the first long-time friend that Maiev had made in her life and thanks to Cordana, she met with Sira and the group, but most importantly Velen. Cordana is a hybrid of sixth generation, so her demonic attributes are almost non-existent, but she kept some supernatural ability from her legacy. She knew from a very young age that she wanted to hunt demons and protect people, and met with Velen early to prepare her future job. Once she discovered that Maiev had some natural abilities to hunt demons, she saw them as the future “Best Best Friend and Hunters” and convinced Maiev to give a go to the hunt. She was forced to move out in another city but she kept contact with Maiev and the rest of the group. In terms of strength, abilities and hunting score, she is right behind Maiev.

Otherwise, I will add that I had a lot of fun writing the conversation between them about Illidan and how he would be better than the Betrayer *winkwink*.

I didn’t make it clear in that chapter and it won���t be important, but Khadgar has a crush on Cordana.

Cordana meant well with the message, and even if in real life, I would condone such action, here, I needed it to move things around because yes, neither Illidan nor Maiev would make the first step if it wasn’t for Cordana.

During the fight, at the beginning of the scene, Illidan totally complimented the Warden on her abilities but don’t try to make him admit it.

Last thing: my nickname is Fate. I’m the one laughing.

Games, Games, All Is Games

I don’t really have anything to say about this chapter.

Sometimes, Cowardice Allows The Survival Of The Smartest

To be perfectly honest, I regret how I handled Cordana’s week in the story because I’ve barely done anything with her but I can explain where the problem is. I knew that I wanted Illidan to discover the warden’s identity on chapter 20, and I planned all my updates around that one fact, but when it came to the outline, I wasn’t sure what to tell between the chapter 13 and 20 to reach that point and thanks to the Calendar, I moved things around that one and I ended up having the idea of making Cordana appears (She should have come in person in the story much, much later). And as I needed chapters 18 and 19 to build up to the reveal, I ended up completely stuck and making her appearance too fast and if it wasn’t for the message, she would have been useless to the story. But I realized it too late and I couldn’t rework my outline in time.

But well, i’ll give her a better mini-arc in the second arc of the story to atone for it.

Otherwise, I hope that the feel of the countdown to the reveal starting by the end of the chapter had been caught by some people x) It’s obvious to me, but well, i’m the writer.

Step By Step, Tick Tock Said The Clock

Just a build up chapter for the 20th. Even if I really like it and that I’m preparing the ground for future plotlines but I’ll let you guess which one it could be x) 

I know I haven’t make it clear in the chapter, but Malfurion knew that Illidan was lying when he pretended that his problem was the Warden “may-be-may-be-not-a-hybrid/demon” but as he also know that his brother is a “stubborn motherfucker” he let it slid. 

And yes, somewhere in my mind, there’s an alternate universe where Maiev accepted Illidan’s invitation and that they would spend the evening at her place. Without a reveal first.

Any Last Wish?

I don’t really have something to add to this chapter. I succeeded to write it just as I wanted.

I just had a long debate with myself as to how I wanted it to end, as I had the choice between cutting it right as Illidan is saved by the Warden (maybe not revealing her identity before the next chapter, or it would have been the last line) or just as I did, by them reaching her place first. I chose the latter because I want Chapter 21 to start with a really specific scene and I thought that it was better than a cheap cliffhanger. 

The last thing I'll add, is that for the story to go well, I had to make Illidan be the first to be aware of the identity of the other, mostly because he can be the one to change his mind more easily about wanting to kill the Warden. If it had been Maiev discovering that Illidan was the Betrayer at this moment of the story, he would have died.

And now, because I'm not done yet, here’s some info about the bonus chapters that were published independently from the main story!

AC Day 8: A Morning

First calendar, in 2018, and I already knew that I was going to write Hasard. It had no name by this time, but I had written that small scene to try out a few things and see how it’ll work.

There’s a really high chance that I end up rewriting it for the main story, but I think that a few elements will change. We’ll see.

AC19 Day 24: Hasard: Naisha

Probably the worst (in terms of feels) chapter of the story yet.

Naisha is probably the character who had a story and fate the closest to canon and I wanted to keep it like that, as it allowed to shape even more the hate between the Warden and the Betrayer. Honestly, she wasn’t deserving of a death like that, especially that if the Betrayer hadn’t intervened that day by trying to kill Maiev, Naisha would have survived.

Actually, in any other universes/storylines possible, she would have survived. Unfortunately for her, she fell right into the feud and became a victim of it.

At this point of the story, Illidan isn’t even completely aware of what happened that day, and he has no idea who Naisha was. All that he knows is that he thought to have killed the Warden, only to find her, even more angry in the following week. He just knows that he had killed the wrong person, but he had no idea who. Maiev herself doesn’t know for sure that it was the Betrayer the culprit, as she couldn’t see clearly in the rain.

Of course, it’ll end up being brought up in the story :)

AC20 Day 8: Hasard: Malfurion’s Hellish Day

It should have been Khadgar's backstory actually for that Calendar. But even if I have a good idea about it, I realized that I wasn’t completely inspired and that I was missing a few details to be able to write it. So, in the end, I went desperately after another idea and thanks to Melowen, I think, she got me on the idea of writing about Malfurion.

In the end, this chapter, meant to be a funny one with Illidan and Maiev forced to be in the same place for the same job, with Malfurion, aware that it would be a catastrophe to let them discover the truth, ended up shaping the last chapters currently published.

And if you are wondering, no, Illidan wasn’t trying to trick his brother in giving him the secret identity of Maiev. He was just trying to get his brother approbation about the woman he was starting to crush on.

The line: ‘“Yeah, everyone tells me that I look like a famous actor,” Malfurion faked a chuckle, glancing at the woman.’ is a reference to my Bodyguard AU where Illidan is an actor. 

Alright, that’s all for the trivia! Thanks for reading this bonus chapter, and the main story until now, and I hope you’ll keep enjoying reading Hasard!

Rose

[miss-noo-na]

Strange Love (Part 1)

Title: Strange Love

Featuring: Johnny (NCT) x Reader

Rating: Mature. Future updates to include BDSM themes

Summary: Your job is finally recognizing all the hard work you’ve been putting in, and assigns you to a special project that includes travel. The only downside is that you have to team up with your cocky co-worker. In the process you learn about his predilections and what he does to relieve stress in his downtime, and how they might come to benefit you, too. 

The copier spluttered and buzzed as it spit out page after page of the same report. Sometimes it jammed and you had to tap it just right for it to start up again, you knew it like clockwork now, not even having to shift your stance or your gaze to do it. You had made friends with the piece of equipment ages ago, this thing was older than some of the new hires in the office.

You had been there for 3 years now, but it felt much longer. You found the job out of college because of its promised upward mobility and company culture, and after a while neither one of those things mattered anymore. You had only had one partial raise and “company culture” really just meant there was cake in the break room once a month.

You didn’t know why you stayed. Actually, you did, but didn’t want to admit it to yourself. You were afraid.

You had always been timid, knowing what you wanted but too anxious to go after it. You could be stubborn and even stand up for yourself, but often you fell by the wayside, worried about making too much of a fuss. You developed a fine-tuned talent for painting on a smile, seeming agreeable, then grumbling under your breath and to your friends over drinks. You would convince yourself things would change, but they never did. 

When the copier stopped with its signature grinding halt you snapped out of your reverie, piling the papers in arm to hand them out around the office. Busy-work, per usual.

When you stepped out of the room you immediately looked across the hall to the windowed room of your manager, able to hear his muffled laughter, head tossed back as he slapped his hand on another mans back. Your eyes set into a narrow glare at the other person.

John Suh had only shown up 9 months ago and he was already 2 positions ahead of you, with his fancy degree and family connections. They liked to pretend they didn’t play favorites but it was obvious from the moment he stepped in the door that he had something the rest of you didn’t, connections and his daddy’s money.

Plus, there was just this air of overconfidence he carried that enraged you. Not only did he have an advantage, he liked to act like it was his savvy business sense and charm that got him there. 

The most annoying part of all is that no one else felt the way you did.

He was clearly attractive, the only person in the office who didn’t get shit from the boss for growing his hair out or not buttoning up his jacket. Every girl in the office from the 19 year old receptionist to the 67 year old accountant practically swooned when he talked to them. This, of course, made you look like the asshole to your colleagues. They called you distrustful and told you to be a little more open-minded, but you didn’t have patience for nepotism and unearned praise.

If you thought about it too long, the frustration built up and where did that leave you? You went about your business for the afternoon, intent on ignoring his presence like you usually did.

As you neared the manager’s door, he suddenly poked his head out and smiled at you.

“Hey there, can I grab you for a second?”

And then he disappeared inside, through the glass you could see him speak to your nemesis once more. Your stomach dropped, what could he possibly need? You set the stack down on your desk and returned to the office, clearing your throat as you entered since they were chatting and laughing like you didn’t exist.

“There you are, have a seat.” He said as he went to his desk, gesturing to the chairs in front of it. You were surprised when John took the seat next to yours, but chose to pretend he wasn’t there.

“I’ve had this project brewing for a few months now, and whilst going over potential candidates your name came up.”

Project? Your name? 

“You’ve been loyal to the company for years, your workflow looks great, and I’ve never heard a fuss out of you. You’re honestly a prime worker for this position.”

“What position would that be, sir?” You asked gently, knowing he had a habit of going on tangents if you let him. Plus, all of this was lip service you’d heard since you started. They were always quick to praise, but never do anything that actually showed that it mattered in a way that helped you. Empty compliments.

“This is our main office, and the system we have here is the best in the business, but unfortunately that’s not the case in some of our smaller offices. They’re falling behind and their technology and practices aren’t getting updated in a timely fashion. Basically, they need help, and that’s where you two come in.”

Two? You peered over at the man next to you from the corner of your eye, and quickly back again.

“I’m not sure I follow. Aren’t these offices spread out all over the country?” You asked.

“Precisely. We’ve opened up a position for trainers, someone who is free to travel and can help these places get set up. You would spend about a week or less in each place, we would make sure you have proper accommodations and a stipend, of course.”

It dawned on you what he meant and you felt a mix of emotions. It was about time someone realized your potential and the hard work you had been putting in, even if you were still confused on how your name got brought up. You didn’t have any problem traveling, there was no relationship or particular thing that kept you tied down in one spot.

“Oh, and the 30% raise.”

You perked up at that, then quickly tried to make yourself appear neutral again.

“That does sound enticing.”

“What do you say? I think you both would be great at it.”

You fully looked over now, and made brief eye contact with the man who offered you an encouraging smile.

“We would be working...together?”

“It’s a two-man, excuse me, two-person job. I can tell you now I think you would make an excellent team.”

You didn’t even know him like that, and everything you did know you weren’t particularly fond of.  You had maybe spoken a handful of words to each other, in passing.  Things like “excuse me” and “here’s that report you needed.” The idea of having to spend so much time around him didn’t sit well with you, but how could you pass up such an opportunity? it was strictly business, it’s not like you had to be best friends.

“Okay, then.” You nodded and forced an uneasy smile. 

“Fantastic! I’ll draw up the paperwork tonight and get you on your schedule within the week. In the meantime, I encourage you two to get to know each other.” 

You left the office, intent on going straight back to your desk, but your new partner stopped you.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced, I’m John, but everyone just calls me Johnny.”

He stuck his hand out and you had to fight the urge to cringe, there was no way in hell you were going to call him that.

You were cordial, shook his hand and told him your name, avoided eye contact. Being this close to him you didn’t realize until now how tall he was.

“You want to grab some lunch with me? My treat, we can hammer out some details.”

“I’m a little busy this aftern-”

“It’ll be fine, the boss insists we form a game plan and I know a spot around the corner.” He cut you off and started to walk away as if you already agreed. You wanted to fight him on it, but that wasn’t the best way to start out a brand new position. You sighed and followed.

The “spot” was basically a sports bar, that was practically dead, save for a few people at the bar watching a baseball game. You sat at a table near the back and wished you could get a beer, but you still had a whole work day ahead of you.

“So it’s like, part trainer, part teacher, part IT. Do you have any experience in IT? I actually started out in computer science before I switched to business, my dad thought it was the best for my career path. I mean, I guess he was right because here I am.”

He was….different, than you thought he would be. You only saw him in the office, turning on his charm and worming his way into things. Here, he was talkative and friendly, and it was throwing you off-guard. The casual humble-brag about his background wasn’t making him anymore likable, though. 

“No, I majored in English.”

I swear to God if he says-

“English? Aren’t you already fluent?”

You closed your eyes for a second while his stupid laugh rang in your ears.

“Anyway, I think this is going to be an awesome opportunity for us. I mean, how lucky are we to get picked for this?”

“I wouldn’t call it luck.” You grumbled before taking a drink, not really intending him to hear it.

“What’s that?”

“It’s not luck.” You said as you met his eyes fully for the first time. “Not for me. I’ve worked my ass off for this company for years, it’s only luck for people who got a head start.”

You sank your teeth into your tongue just as the words left you, and you could see the smile fade from his face. You suddenly felt flush and thought about apologizing, but he spoke up.

“Ah, so you think I had a leg up?”

“I didn’t mean-”

He waved a hand and laughed. “It’s fine, I know everyone thinks that, you’re just the first person to say it to my face.”

You couldn’t tell if he was offended and playing it off, or if he was really this nonchalant about it. 

“Look, no offense, but I don’t think we need to be buddies for this to work. I would rather just get in the field and work things out from there.” You explained as directly as you could. 

“That’s fair.” He nodded, to your surprise. 

The small-talk ended and when he tried to pay for lunch, you insisted on giving your share. The rest of the day was uneventful, except for the twinge of guilt you had when you thought back on how you spoke to him.

When you got home, you collapsed on the couch next to your roommate, a graphic designer who worked from home and was always in her PJs. You envied her.

“Another rough day at the office, sweetie?” She asked, patting you on the head, condescending but still sincere.

“Remember that douchebag at work I told you about?”

“Oh, the cute one?” She asked with a smile, having seen him when coming to drop off some lunch for you once.

“Whatever, anyway.” You sat up to face her. “The good news is that I got a promotion to a position that lets me travel.”

“Hey, that’s great!” She beamed.

“The bad news is that we have to do it together.”

She looked to consider it for a moment before her lips curled into a devious smile. “On the road for work? Hotel stays? Working in close proximity? Ohh, this is like a spicy romance novel!”

“Ew, stop.” You scowled.

“Only if you stop pretending he’s not hot.”

“Someone can be objectively hot and I can still not like them or be attracted to them. He’s arrogant and he seems to think we’re on the same page somehow. He’s oblivious to his own privilege.”

“Okay, I get that, sorry for teasing you. But hey, this is the break you were looking for, right? Focus on the positive.”

“Thank you.”

She opened up her arms and you hugged for a long moment.

“Maybe while you’re traveling you’ll finally get laid.” She said suddenly into your ear, and you pulled back and glared at her.

“Sorry, sorry! I just know that lately you haven’t really been-”

You stood up from the couch as she spoke. “I’m going to my room now.”

“Let me know if you need help packing!”

You closed your bedroom door and sighed. She meant well, but she had a way of saying things so bluntly that it didn’t quite help. She was right about that, though. Your career wasn’t the only stagnant thing in your life. 

You hadn’t had a steady boyfriend in 2 years, and in that time had only experienced a sprinkling of dates that never went anywhere and the 2-3 times you randomly hooked up with someone to great disappointment. Frustrated was an understatement, and you knew part of it was bleeding over into your professional life. 

You didn’t expect to have any sort of passionate tryst while out for work, but maybe simply getting into a new scenery would make you feel better?

To Be Continued