#at least I was consistent both times in that I simply ignored and blocked them bc I’m a fraidy cat 😎

[reikunrei]

if I had a nickel for every time somebody thought a post I made about a general experience was a specific callout against them despite me never even mentioning them in the post or anywhere else, I’d have 2 nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

[sir-adamus]

Funnily enough uptime is actually brought up twice in s2 but very briefly in both times.

The first time was after Kazu died, and the rest of the squad were mourning and the alert for low uptime came up, to which Chase responded by telling the others to get back to the Renegade and download, carrying Kazu's Holon with them.

The second time is in the episode after when the remaining gL members are in the mindscape and Chase checks up on Val who is silently mourning for Kazu and simply says "exceeding uptime isn't fun y'know" before inviting Val to talk about his grief.

So while uptime does exist, I will say that the HBO handles it is VERY different from the RT does. It's almost as if there is not grace period, and that it just resets do default the moment you download?(???) Or maybe it works the same way as in S1 but the S2 writers just don't know what consistency is? So you are right about how silly it is to have them entertaining themselves in the mindscape instead of the Ether.

Speaking of which, the virtual apartment blocks? Cammie built those hubs to make piloting the Holons more comfortable. As Val said it "... Piloting our Holons was like floating in cold blue nothingness. At least now I get to be surrounded by that which gives me pleasure in my mind..." But they still use it outside of missions for entertainment which once again as you said is quite ridiculous considering the Ether allows you to do that exact thing without worrying about uptime and isn't limited to gL pilots only.

right, thanks for clarifying - yeah it just seems like the writers flat out ignored how season 1's mechanics actually work while.. almost meanspiritedly mocking the way the mindshare space was depicted in season 1 (and then made it look like a power rangers megazord room at one point? because that's how we want this to be depicted, not two characters' mental avatars fighting/dancing together while a robotic body manifests that in deadly efficient combat, no, that's boring. we need people in CHAIRS, that's where the REAL action is!) and missing the point of it besides; they're not 'piloting' the Holons, they are the Holons while downloaded, the mindshare space is the visualisation of their connection while downloaded, it's part of why Nemesis was such an issue because he was in there with them (which the writers also seem to have ignored for the copies on both sides)

[writingtoforgetreality]

Guarding Your Heart (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

Request: THE ENDING WAS PURRRRRFECT i'm gonna miss tfatws sm. I don't know if on the raft they allow inmates to be visited but let's imagine it: you visiting zemo for the first time since he was sent there, a little angst cuz you can't have skin-to-skin contact anymore but you two talk about some things and how life is going, if everything is okay 🥺🥺🥺 (by anonymous), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Inmate: Helmut Zemo. Accommodation: The Raft. Visitors: Generally prohibited. Exceptions: Maintaining a friendly relationship with an Avenger.

Words: 3,547

Warnings: angst, jail (is that a warning?), fluff, feels, my emotions, I didn’t use any pronouns!, TFATWS spoilers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Countless attempts from your side had been ignored. You were an average citizen. No superpower, no higher-up. Ordinary. It appeared that the Raft did not think highly of such people. Not when they proposed to visit an inmate. And definitely not when said inmate was the same Baron who broke out of a high security jail in Germany. But he was yours. His imprisonment in Europe had not been as restricted. For his sake, you had moved to the other end of the world. Simply so you could spend a bit of time together every day. Your old life had been completely abandoned. And for almost ten years, Germany had been your home. Until Sam & Bucky entered your lives once again. Though you started off on the wrong foot, this time around, you were more than grateful for their presence. Without them, especially without the former Winter Soldier, Helmut would still rot away in that tiny prison cell. Your time together had been adventurous. Often hazardous. Life threatening. In the end, you made it out alive. Coming back stronger than ever before.

It could have been a fairy tale. A long awaited fulfillment of a seemingly impossible dream. Were it not for the Wakandans crushing your reverie at the worst place imaginable. The Sokovian memorial. Where you held one of his clothed hands in both of yours. Shedding tears, remembering his old life. His wife. His son. You would never replace them. At the same time, you did not even intend to. His past was part of him & made him to the man you loved endlessly. Bucky did not receive your blame. Were you mad at him for handing Helmut over to the Wakandans? Absolutely. Then again, the super soldier was the reason why he was out of jail in the first place. It was a fine line between resentment & gratitude.

Luckily, throughout the various missions you had been a part of, you gained Sam’s trust. He took a liking in you & when he saw you struggling, he was eager to help. Obviously, the Raft yielded when the Captain America himself transmitted an inquiry. Only a few hours passed & you were on your way to Helmut’s current accommodation. A small jet that had been arranged just for you. In this instant, you did not feel average anymore. For a second, you experienced what it would feel like to live this kind of lifestyle. The one of a Baron. Why you were still unfamiliar with that even though your boyfriend was rich? Truthfully, you did not touch his money at all. It was his & when he did not have access to it while imprisoned, you did not dare using it either. Loyalty. Of course Zemo suggested utilization for you but you declined politely. After reasoning enough, he swore he fell even harder for you. The staunchness of you was remarkable.

It was bizarre. Entering the Raft with multiple workers circling you. You were told that these were the security measures that had to be met if someone wanted to visit an inmate. To you, it sounded like a poor excuse but you would not speak that thought out loud. Prisoners needed social contact. Physical contact could not be provided, that much you understood. But one would go insane without having the opportunity to see another human being that was not a guard working here.

Your body was a mess. Heart hammering at your chest with such a force, you believed it would burst any second. Irregular breaths left your lips. Trembling hands fiddled with each other in order to prevent others from noticing. Weak knees that threatened to no longer stabilize your body weight with each step you took forward. To bystanders, you probably appeared as a put-together person. On the inside, there was chaos. Nothing but chaos. How would you react? How would he react? Would you have privacy? An audience? Observers? Innumerable questions flooded your mind. Seemingly, having only one purpose. To drown you. To drown every bit of you. But you would not succumb that easily. You were so close to where you wanted to be. The fight could not end now. Disappointment would cloud you. More importantly, it would cloud him.

Four guards. It took four guards to guide you through the facility. To your surprise, the insides radiated a calm, almost content atmosphere. The walk lasted an eternity. At least, that was what it felt like. Your Helmut occupied a cell at the very end of the building. No explanation had been given to you as to why they decided to accommodate him there. Maybe, with Sam’s assistance, you could change his quarters & move it further up to the entrance. That way, if you visited again, you would not have to waltz through every narrow hallway. Listening to the whimpers of some inmates. The screams. The bashing. The…pain. There was only one person here who you were familiar with. Helmut. The others? You had no idea what crimes they implemented to end up at a place as dark as this.

“He’s at the end of that corridor.” one of the guards motioned for the others to leave you alone. His hand gestured to a tall white door that had a small built-in window. Your sight was obstructed by the frosted glass of it.

“Will you join me?” you questioned, wanting to prepare for it if he had to accompany you.

“Generally, yes.” he breathed out, putting his hands in the pockets of his uniform. Then, he sighed quietly & eyed you once more. “But since it was requested you speak to him alone, I’ll leave you be.”

“Whose request was that?” your eyebrows furrowed. The Raft was not an institution for exceptions. At first, the mere thought of getting to see Helmut again was an impossibility.

“Captain America’s.” he stated monotonously. The way his face scrunched up made it obvious that he was less than pleased about this decision. As soon as you were out of here, you had to call Sam & thank him for making this feasible.

“Oh.” it was all you could muster at the moment. There was an overwhelming feeling you had to handle. And it was not exactly one of your specialties.

“The door is unlocked. Walk down the hallway & the cell will come into view. If something happens, there’s an emergency button that should be operated whe-“ you stopped him during his speech.

“Thanks for your concern but I’ll be just fine.” a genuine smile formed on your face. The guard nodded at you, still slightly uncertain, & turned around without another word. Letting the uncomfortable silence envelop you. Your legs were frozen in place, preventing you from running to him. Maybe it was the thought of having to say goodbye again. As wonderful as it was that you were allowed to visit him, the concept of abandoning him broke your heart. The difference between the jail in Germany & this one was that you could not linger close by. The trip lasted for a while. Daily visitations were out of the question.

Slow but steady steps moved you over to the door. A hand raised to the doorknob. The coldness of it grounded you the slightest bit. You had to take a few deep breaths, just like he had instructed you multiple times before, in order to reduce the fast, almost unhealthy pace of your beating heart. Your hand twisted the doorknob to one side & when you heard the lock click, you pushed the door open with your entire body weight. Otherwise, you would have been too weak to do so. Bright lights had you squint your eyes. A hand was used as a shield to block most of the luminosity. When your eyes adjusted to the different setting, you straightened your back & brushed non-existent dust from your clothes. This motion gave you something to do with your hands. It was a much needed distraction. You held your head high, looking straight forward to the very end of the corridor. At the sides, the walls were painted bright white. Almost too bright for your liking. It resembled a hospital & you had never enjoyed them. The consistency of it was broken with the glass wall you were staring at. The one which was straight ahead. His cell, you figured. But there was no silhouette you could make out. Considering the size, you should have noticed him already. But he was not there. So you no longer moved in slow motion but jogged over to the pane.

Fast footsteps echoed in Helmut’s ears. Time was fluid in a jail like that. But it had not been long since a guard brought him breakfast. Whoever visited him now, it seemed to be urgent on the basis of the fast pace they approached. He scooted closer to the frigid wall behind his bed. Something he did to mess with the employees here. At least it gave him something to do. Besides reading tons of books & listening to the radio that had been prepared for him. That was luxurious enough for an inmate. All of a sudden, it was silent. Too quiet for his liking. The next thing he heard was music to his ears.

“Helmut?” your broken voice whispered & filled the room. Was he turning hallucinational? Nobody would blame him in a place like this. But not even his imagination could recall your softness so perfectly. He stood up, carefully, & widened his eyes at the sight of you. There you were, on the other side of the transparent wall. Separating the outside world from the box he found himself in.

“(Y/N)? You’re here.” no time was wasted. Helmut dragged his body as close to yours as his cell allowed him to. One of his hands touched the smooth surface & you mimicked his actions. There were tears threatening to escape but you tried everything to keep them locked inside. “Don’t cry.” the volume of his voice had lowered. Nobody could listen to you in here but it almost felt illicit to talk at a normal volume.

“I’m sorry.” you chuckled shortly, your free hand coming to your face to wipe at your cheeks. How he wanted to be the one to touch your tender skin. To have you lean into his palm.

“What are you sorry for?” the proximity was given yet unattainable. Your gaze averted, staring at the pavement floor.

“I don’t know…For everything?” you shrugged your shoulders, laughing at how incomprehensible you sounded. Helmut shook his head. That was how he knew you. Always being the one to carry everyone’s burden on your own. Though you did not need to.

“Stop that.” it was an order but not a forceful one. One that eased the tension immediately.

“Okay.” you mouthed.

The floor was everything but comfortable but you made do. Sitting cross legged opposite of Helmut was dreamlike. In your dreams, you had skin-to-skin contact but that delight had been denied. Simply having him next to you was enough for now. Helmut had his elbows on his knees, watching your every move. Reminiscing every small detail he could get a glimpse of. But there was nothing new he came across. He remembered you like the back of his hand. Sometimes even more precisely than you did yourself. And yet, his observation resembled the first time when his warm, chocolate brown eyes fell onto your frame. Usually, you handled his stares well but something inside of you told you to inquire.

“What?” you asked with a playful, teasing tone. His eyes locked onto yours. You giggled at his confused state.

“Is there a problem?” Helmut turned insecure for a second. And people who knew him were aware that he was barely ever uncertain.

“No, not at all.” you shook your head to emphasize your words. “Just…you’re staring.” you called him out. It made him laugh, his head falling back briefly.

“Is it forbidden to stare?” one of his eyebrows perked up. “I believe most people are flattered by the attention.” though he played the serious act quite well, you could tell that he was joking.

“You’re awful.” you laughed at his antics.

“I am aware.” he saw you opening your mouth to disagree with him but Helmut was faster. “(Y/N)?”

“What is it?” you rested your intertwined hands in your lap. But he had noticed the trembles. He had noticed you struggling. And he realized that it was because of the position you were currently in.

“How is it like? Outside, I mean.” he skillfully changed the topic before the atmosphere between you two could shift in a negative way.

“You have a radio.” your finger pointed to the one sitting on a small table inside the cell right next to a stack of read-through books. “I’m sure you have an idea of what it’s like.”

“But I would love to hear it from you.” there was an encouraging smile on his lips that you could not resist, no matter what.

“Well, Karli’s dead. Sharon took care of her.” you began & watched him nodding approvingly. “Bucky finished his amends & it really looks like he’s doing much better. He’s taking baby steps but he’s doing well.” you could not suppress the small smile when you spoke about the super soldier. Helmut was not jealous. Bucky & you had become fast friends over time.

“Could you deliver a message from me?” he continued after a hum from you. “Tell James that I am happy for him. And thank him from me.” that warmed your heart. All of the previous disputes aside, they had started tolerating each other. You would not go as far as calling them friends but what was not could still be.

“I will.” you promised with certainty. “Right, um…Sam is Captain America. This job is made for him. I truly believe, with him, we’ll achieve great things.” you quieted down, not exactly knowing how to continue.

“So you established Sam’s & James’ success. But what about you?” he read you too easily. No other person saw through you like he did. That affirmed the close bond you two shared even further.

“What about me?” a phony dumfounded expression was plastered on your face.

“How have you been doing?” it was a question with so much emotion & care hidden beneath, it brought tears to the corners of your eyes instantly. Your attempts to blink them away were gratuitous. They started rolling down over your cheeks. So fast, in fact, you could not even wipe them away with your sleeves in time. Helmut’s heart broke at this sight of you. It was clear as day that you experienced a rough patch. The cause of it was him being imprisoned, that much he knew. “Talk to me.” he whispered & cursed the guards for not granting his partner access inside his cell. But they thought he would plan another escape. At the same time, they were unaware that he would not take the risk to jeopardize your safety with a second try.

“It’s…” you took a deep breath to steady your voice & avoid the wavering & cracking. “It’s been hard.” you admitted quietly. “Without you.” you finished. Your eyes flickered up to his face. His look brought you the tiniest bit of contentment. The way his body language could comfort you in such a way was prodigious.

“Love.” the nickname gained your entire attention. It was like all of your worries melted away by the simple sound of it rolling from his lips. The tears did not stop but they were mixed with happiness now. Gratitude that you shared this moment with him. You were here. Helmut was here. Similar to how it used to be. Yet, entirely different. “Please look at me when I tell you this.” & you obeyed without a second thought. “You are my world. If I could change this situation, trust me that I would instantly. I understand your struggles. And I abominate that I cannot dispose of your demons. Or make them part of my own. Your pain causes me aching ten times worse. It is painful seeing you like this. My love, you must promise me one thing.” it was hard for him to get through this speech without his voice fading at the emotions he was experiencing. But he had to stay strong for you. It would only cause you more distress if you noticed him showing how affected he truly was.

“Anything, Helmut.” your reply followed straight after. If he asked you for something, you would do your very best to make him proud of you.

“Promise me to take care of yourself. I would hate to watch you disappear because of me.” the sincerity assured you how important it was to him.

“Helmut, I don’t think I coul-“ he shushed you when he spotted what you were intending to do.

“Promise me, my love.” he repeated & you closed your eyes briefly, releasing another wave of tears.

“I promise.” your eyelids slowly opened & you could detect the relief in his at your words.

“How did you persuade them into visiting an inmate?” the atmosphere had shifted to a relaxing feel once again. And his attempt to start another conversation was welcomed.

“I didn’t do anything. Though I’ve tried multiple times…Sam came to my aid.” you chuckled at the memory & the excitement you emitted after his call. The news had been the best in a very long time.

“Ah, of course, if Captain America requests a visitation…” Helmut started.

“The chiefs are on board in an instant.” you finished his sentence & the both of you laughed at the tomfoolery.

“Means that Sam is the reason for your stay.” you confirmed his thought process quietly. “Please express my gratitude for him as well.”

“Will do.” you wanted to maintain the dialogue with him but a loud noise from behind you caught you by surprise. The same guard who had instructed your appropriate behavior inside these hallways was back. There was a look on his face you could not quite identify but it left you uneasy.

“Time’s over.” the statement felt like someone stabbed you with a knife. Not once, not twice. Multiple times to cause as much damage as possible. Helmut then stood up from the floor, gesturing for you to do the same. The moment you were on your feet again, your knees were close to giving out. Digging deep inside, you mustered all the strength you had left & fixed your posture. You did that to avoid radiating a fragile appearance. “Bid your goodbyes, I’ll wait by the door.” the guard took his place in the doorway, waiting for you to approach him. Your body faced Helmut’s & you rested both of your hands on the glass in front of you. He mimicked you & if it were not for the transparent border, you would have touched.

“I’ll miss you.” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against the boundary.

“I will miss you more.” he followed right after. “But you are always here with me.” one hand rested above his heart. Goodbyes were difficult. Especially with the ulterior motive of not returning the following day. It would most likely take a while until you would face him again. Secretly, so nobody could discern what you were doing, you pulled a small paper out of your pocket & pushed it through one of the many, tiny holes in the glass wall. It dropped to the floor on the other side. Helmut sent you a questioning glance which you retuned with a soft, gentle smile. Coughing behind you brought you back to reality. You had to leave. As much as it hurt, you turned your back to Helmut & distanced yourself from his cell. Arriving at the exit, you looked over shoulder one last time. One last time, your eyes locked. One last time, you let your tender features speak. One last time. While you walked away from him, he picked the small paper up from the ground. Unfolding it with much care, his eyes got stuck on three little words that were neatly curved in your handwriting. So when your eyes met, he returned that favor without anyone realizing it. His lips moved & you saw him mouthing that same phrase back. Your smile grew wider, as did his. And then you were gone. Of course, you would come back. And with Sam’s help, it would probably be sooner rather than later. He stared at the door where you just walked through. His gaze then turned to the paper in his hands. Never would he let go of it again. He would treat it like it was made out of gold. To him, it was. And it was worth so much more. The feeling it triggered inside of him could not be purchased. It could only be provided by a special someone. That special someone was you. Reading through the note one more time, he sat down on the uncomfortable mattress. The displeasure was ignored for now. For a minute, he bathed in the loving emotions you brought to him.

“I love you. -xo(Y/N)”

Published (05/09/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @there-will-be-p-e-a-c-e, @simply-skeletons, @weareironmanbitches, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @bibliophilewednesday, @msmarvelsmain, @takacsgram, @ya-boi-is-dead, @deamus-liv, @therenlover (thanks for your support <3)

[sk-lumen]

Hello dear enchantress Lumen,

I hope you are well and safe♥️ I just came here to seek for some advice from you and ladies out there if possible. I often get men complimenting me on my eyes and lips, more so my lips (I know damn well what they’re thinking about while they’re at it lol) but it’s become frustrating and to a point where I am objectified because of my looks.

I feel like I am a shell with a pearl inside- weird comparison I know but men just rather focus on what’s on the outside paying little attention to what may be inside. I like talking about mind stimulating stuff and the conversations get dragged to sexual stuff. While I am playful being sexually objectified is really a buzz killer 😞They start asking for naughty pictures and such. Every conversation I make online or in person with men has to always start with me addressing the fact that I do not send nude photos or videos.

I do understand that men naturally have a big appetite for sexual things. My question is dear Lumen; How do I deal with men like that? To have them to see more than and past my looks, but the beauty within? And also how can I keep the sexual thing playful yet not super nudity type? (Like for eg can I pose half nude or wear things to still keep his i terest but playful enough to leave the rest of my body to his imagination, hopefully enabling him to see me for my soul as well) Please tell me tips you would think be best in how to keep men going sexually but not getting things over done, how to handle situations like this, etc)

Your advice and tips are highly valued and appreciated by me. Thankyou in advance. ♥️♥️

Hi darling,

Note: you pose some very good questions which is why I thought it's important to share it with others. I will mention that advice requests, which are slightly more explicit in nature, should be redirected to my personal inbox where I can reply in-depth: either in private, or share on the blog to help others as well. I'm happy to help, however such topics are not the main focus of my tumblr blog, which I would like to keep as a more light and safe space, welcoming to all regardless of goals or sensibilities. I'm open to everyone else's thoughts on this suggestion.

After reading your story, let me address each topic one by one:

You may be looking for gentlemen in the wrong circles. There is a repeating pattern here, and it is either from navigating the same circles, or attracting the same type of guys, or simply being surrounded by the same type in your local area. For this, I would advise to experiment and try new places more associated with higher value men (theatre, art exhibitions, museums, upscale restaurants, etc).

This whole trend with provocative photos is simply a result of the p*rn culture combined with consumerism, which has normalized the access to/objectification of female bodies as a product so to speak. Yes, it is unquestionable that the female body is a work of art - but unfortunately today's society does not yet understand this. Ignore the trend of n*des. Do not for a second succumb to it unless you are in a 100% committed relationship, completely trust your partner, and feel very much safe to do so — and even then, thoroughly considered. Is it worth risking things like having those photos leaked, your privacy and trust broken, just for a nondescript guy’s validation? The smart answer is simple: never.

Generally speaking, women have an equally big appetite. It’s simply about how both genders (or any gender) are socialized in expressing it. LVM learn that they can express it any way they wish, HVM act as gentlemen, as they should; whereas women oscillate between the double-edged blade of being too little or too much, either way facing risking judgement over it.

How to deal with low value men (because no man of class would ask for licentious photos, and I stand by that statement)? Block, delete, move on. If you are determined to embark on a journey of leveling up, you cannot waste time with such behaviour, dear ladies. There’s zero benefit, zero return of investment from engaging with men that have not yet reached the baseline of respecting you as an individual. There's no two ways about this, and there’s nothing to negotiate there.

You can’t make a man see, do or say anything. He either sees your value or he doesn’t. If you have to bring arguments to the table, the game is already rigged and you have lost, because the moment you question your worth is when they have already won. The only thing you should do then is find another table.

"Can I (…) to keep his interest" - Please don’t entertain this line of thought darling, it serves no one but LVM. You don’t have to do anything to keep someone’s interest, except be yourself. If you have to go above and beyond, bend over backwards, be someone you’re not, or step out of your comfort zone/boundaries at any point, it’s time to walk away. Besides, a man's interest is not a warranty for commitment or love.

Don’t rely on the mindset of luring in a guy with desire, to capture his heart. It should be the other way around, or simultaneous. But if he desires solely your body before even considering your mind, heart or soul… his priorities are clear, and they’re not likely to change.

My universal strategy for dating/relationships, which is in the best interest of your sacred feminine energy, the safeguarding of your heart, and the wise use of your time, is this:

Have clear standards, know what kind of man you’re interested in, take your time dating accordingly. When you find a good one, let him court you until he’s proven himself as a worthwhile companion that you can trust with all of you. Once commitment is made clear (and I mean clear, open commitment stated out loud, no juvenile "what are we" allusions), wait at least 3-6 months to further strengthen the relationship’s foundation of intimacy, and only then open completely.

It may sound complicated or long-winded, but it is a smart strategy for countless reasons: only a HVM will be patient, consistent and dedicated enough to stay for the long run all throughout. LVM will either bail, protest, test your boundaries, or other red flags which will reveal themselves on their own and spare you the trouble.

Hope this helps. Take care. ❤️

-Lumen

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

[skaylanphear]

Hi there! Do you have any advice on improving traction towards a fanwork/fic? I love writing—and it's not for notoriety by any means—but having validation and feedback also feels nice (I hope that's not conceited). What would you recommend to someone without a large audience/follower base? I do "advertise" on tumblr when my work is written/updated on AO3. How did your journey start? Thank you!

This is an interesting question and I doubt most people are going to like the answers, but here we go:

So, first and foremost, you need to be realistic about why you're creating in the first place. If you're doing work in a fandom that is older, where content has stopped coming out, or that is simply smaller, you're not going to get much engagement, period. There will, of course, be activity in these fandoms, but it will be far less and the people involved—while they may view your work—will be less likely to comment/spread it around simply because there's not much going on. So if you're creating in that sort of environment (which can be a really good environment if you're looking for something chill with no pressure), then you have to be prepared for low engagement, even if the people you do meet and who are willing to talk about your work are more regularly in your sphere. You can probably make better/closer friends in these sorts of fandoms, if you're willing to try.

But, on the other end of this, if you're coming into a huge fandom late, it's also going to be harder to wade through the massive following to get your stuff out there. For example, in both the Miraculous and Sk8 fandom, I started work pretty early on, when the shows were still gaining traction, and so my "name" as a creator gained traction parallel to that growth, as opposed to when I started writing in the Voltron fandom. With Voltron, I came in super late and so what few fics I had that did gain traction took a lot longer to get there because people already had their fav content creators in the fandom, etc. It's not impossible to get popular in this situation—far from it—but it does take longer.

You'll also benefit from having finished works early on in a fandom's lifespan, at least with writing. This is because there's less competition for views and so more people will be filtered to your work, initially. This means that you have a better chance of getting those comments and kudos. Having a finished work increases this engagement because people look for finished works before works in progress. Generally, the length of a fic doesn't matter much for popularity, so long as it's DONE. When I was writing in the ML fandom, quite a few of my earlier fics were shorter, and they compete in popularity with my longer fics, because people care more about having a finished story, not a long story. That's why when it came to Only Practice Makes Perfect in the Sk8 fandom, I worked hard to get that shit done, because it was the most popular story I had in the fandom and I decided—like an idiot—to make it a long fic. Which, yeah, means people probably love it/remember it more in the long run, but if I hadn't finished it in 2 to 3 months, I'd have lost considerable traction as far as making a name within the fandom.

This leads into one of the most important points, if not THE MOST IMPORTANT point in gaining an audience—consistency. If you do want to be a successful creator, you Have To Be Consistent. This is the most difficult hurdle for all creators, and it is oftentimes impossible to make happen. If you want to aim for professionalism, which a lot of fandom creators don't care about (which is fine), then consistency is how you get there. Nobody wants to read a fic or follow an artist who doesn't stick to creating what they start (RIP all my unfinished works and the people who left me as a result, LOL). Using my most recent works as an example, I very, very, very consistently updated Only Practice Makes Perfect multiple times a week. To the point where people got comfortable expecting it, which is the key variable here. When people become comfortable that you will regularly create content, they not only stick around, but will be more interactive with you and your work. Nobody likes the disappointment of getting involved with a work only for that work to rarely get updates. Most people don't have the attention span to care. I'll admit, if I read a fic that's not finished and the writer takes one week to update, then one week, then THREE weeks, I probably will, like, forget about it. That's just life.

The best thing you can do is schedule. And again, this is the HARDEST thing to do, because it holds the creator to a deadline. Most people who create in fandoms don't want that kind of pressure—and that's fine. I go back and forth on when I have scheduled releases and when I don't, depending on what I'm aiming to do. But if you to retain your audience, telling them that you will update a work regularly on such and such a day and such and such a time, it creates something for them to remember. If they're invested in your work, they will think, "oh, it's Friday, that means such and such is coming out with something new." But, with that in mind, you also have to commit to a schedule that people will remain invested in. Which basically means you can't put things out more than a week away from each other, unless you're really, really famous, lol. If I told people I was going to go on a two week update schedule, I would lose most of my audience. But a week is long enough for people to both still remember and anticipate. That's just how the scheduling of the world works. And if you're an artist that's working on a big project, then you have to share progress, or pieces of what you're doing on a regular basis. That's what generates "buzz" and keeps you relevant. And, yeah, that's a really hard schedule to commit to, because it's a lot of work. BUT this consistency is where you see people being successful. Popular youtubers may not have gained their popularity by being consistent, but most sure do retain it that way. And again, there are outlying exceptions, but they generally ARE exceptions.

Speaking of hard work, here's probably the second hardest thing to accomplish—you have to be prolific. Especially as a writer. You have to write A LOT if you want to gain an audience. And yeah, that means you have to work, a lot. I love my work, so I enjoy that "grind," and I also have developed a lot of strategies to work around writer's block and every other obstacle that tends to catch people up. I work in a very professional manner—I do outlines, and drafts, and plan. I do a lot of stuff that people who do this kind of thing for fun can't be bothered with (and that's fine), but that's because I find it to be what works best in creating an efficient environment. I'm also very, very NOT lazy, lol. I was raised in an environment where you have to work for everything that you want. My parents didn't buy me my first computer, or snowboard, or what have you. We were tight on money and if I wanted something, they couldn't help me—I had to get that shit on my own. And I also grew up on a farm, where hard work was a staple of how you did things. You did things the right way, even if it was the hard way. You can't cut corners and it's the same with this. If you want it, you have to actually do the work, that's it. Some people get lucky with popularity, most don't. Most famous actors didn't become well-known off their first efforts, they had to keep trying and keep working and then they have to continue to do that to stay relevant. So if that doesn't sound great to you, then you might want to not focus on your audience and just create because you enjoy it, lol. Sometimes that's what I do too, when I don't wanna deal with the pressure.

Moving on, here's another point that nobody is going to like. Simply put, you also have to be good at what you do. I think some people don't realize that I've been writing fic for over fifteen years. I currently have nearly 2 millions words worth of fics on AO3 and that doesn't include a majority of the stuff I've ever written. I practice A LOT. I write every day. And I'll tell ya, when I started out in middle school, my stuff was not good. But I worked hard, I ignored the hate, and I kept going. That is the only way you will ever get better at anything. There's no quick way to become a better writer, or artist. And a vast majority of people are only going to pay attention to your stuff if it's quality work. Getting to that point is a process, on top of then creating stuff that fits into popular molds. Not only am I good at what I do (and I don't care how arrogant that sounds—I've worked my ass off), but when it comes to fandoms, I rarely write "rare pairs" and "crack ships." Generally, if it's popular, that's where I am. That makes a big difference and I honestly don't have sympathy for people who write rare pairs and such and then complain about lack of engagement. You knew what you were getting into (it's mostly the Miraculous fandom that gave me this bitterness). If you're not writing what people WANT to read, then your audience is simply going to be smaller. And that audience doesn't owe you their attention, no matter how frustrating it is or how good your work is. I could be the best writer in the world, but if I'm writing RekixCherry fic, I have nobody to blame but myself when nobody reads it. BUT if that's your passion, and writing a certain unpopular thing makes you happy, then, again, you need to not be concerned with traction and your audience.

The last point I'll make is that it matters HOW you present yourself online. A good chunk of the well-known creators in any fandom are, simply put, older people. And those that aren't, and are able to connect with those older creators, have generally created a bubble around themselves of maturity and, like, of being nice, lol. A lot of creators are skittish these days, and if you're an asshole (anti) or fight a lot over stupid shit, you may get a bigger audience, but you will isolate yourself from other creators. And this is important because oftentimes it is your exposure to other creators that will get your work circulating. The reason I got popular in the ML fandom? I wrote a short angst fic and a really popular artist shared it/talked about it and the rest was history. But if I'd had a habit of being an asshole, probably wouldn't have happened. And, granted, I'm not saying don't voice your opinions, but if you're loud all the time, it does turn people off. Especially creators because they are oftentimes the ones being attacked. They don't want to pull more of that negative bullshit into their lives. I'll admit, when I was in the ML fandom, I was down for a fight, but then that's what people came to expect, and it probably did turn others off, and then when I didn't fight, or didn't think the way my audience thought I should, it, again, turned people off. It's really not worth it unless being that type of person IS your platform.

So, that's all the advice I can give, I suppose. And even if you do all this stuff, that still doesn't mean you're going to be popular. At the end of the day, the thing that I stick to is this—I do what I want, I love what I do, and I work hard. If I'm in a position to worry about all that other stuff, then sure, I do, but otherwise… There's no easy way to become popular and, quite frankly, it's better to just "live" working hard and being a decent person than it is to focus on all this bullshit. I've created a working environment where I function within these "points" quite naturally, so it's not something I think about (except for schedules, lol). Sometimes I get popular in fandoms, sometimes I don't. At the end of the day, it comes down to how much work you're willing to do, because you will always be giving more than you are getting back, so you have to at least enjoy what you're doing.

Seriously, just do it because you love it. And if the pressure of everything above is something you don't love (I like a good, high pressure situation, lol), then don't do it that way—it's not worth the grief.

[captainpikeachu]

So having recently rewatch the first Cap movie for my MCU rewatch, I have so much feels about the ways many things about Steve in this film actually echoes John’s story in TFATWS.

-----------

Steve: Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me. Bucky: Right. Cause you got nothing to prove.

In a way, Steve did have something to prove, to prove that he could do his part for the war effort and not be left behind, forgotten, considered worthless, and not given a chance. He fights to have the chance to prove himself. In this way so did John. John comes into the story with a chip on his shoulder, to prove that he could live up to the legacy and the mythology set by Steve. His chance to prove that he could do the right thing and help people.

The thing is though, Erskine did give Steve a chance to prove himself, he believed in Steve and had faith. John never really had someone who would fight for him and believe in him on his behalf to others.

-----------

Phillips: Hodge passed every test we gave him. He’s big, he’s fast, he obeys orders. He’s a soldier. Erskine: He’s a bully. Phillips: You don’t win wars with niceness, doctor. You win war with guts.

I know that everyone consistently compares John to Hodge, that John is what Erskine was afraid of happening and what would have been if Hodge had been given the serum. But that surface level comparison is misleading at best, because when Phillips throws that fake grenade to test everyone’s guts, Hodge runs away. John would have jumped on the grenade just like Steve did. John wouldn’t have hesitated. Hodge was a bully who purposefully tried to mess with Steve in training and mocking him. John didn’t purposefully try to mess around with anyone, he only ever just wanted to do his duty just like Steve did. In fact, John has far more in common with Steve than he ever does with Hodge. 

Phillips said that you win war with guts, and Steve jumping on that grenade showed that he had guts, this links directly to John's comments while doing that GMA interview, he specifically brings up that he may not have flashy gadgets or super-strength but that he has guts and that’s what Captain America always had and needed. And John does have guts, nobody earns 3 Medals of Honor without having guts.

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Erskine: The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse. This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.

This comment from Erskine is often used by fandom to show why John is the wrong choice as opposed to Steve. He’s the bad that becomes worse or the strong man who has had power all his life. But that interpretation is only there if you take everything Erskine says to be a binary choice of good and bad. It’s this automatic assumption that because John is not Steve, then he has to be the bad. Except John is really the middle ground. He has light and darkness within him, it’s a constant civil war, the serum didn’t just amplified everything bad to become worse, it also amplified the good in him to become great. The interpretation that John is a representation of only “bad becomes worse” plainly ignores John’s decision in Episode 6 to let go of revenge to save people. This choice was made AFTER he got the serum, if he is only bad that becomes worse, then he wouldn’t have saved those people. By saving those people, John shows that the serum doesn’t simply work on a binary standard, just like people aren’t binary of only good and only bad. John’s story deepens what the first Cap movie set up about how the serum works, and shows a story progression that is very much like how in real life as kids, we are first taught those fairy tale stories of good versus evil, but we grow up and learn the world is more complex and that people aren’t just one thing or another.

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

Senator Brandt: With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point. I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it. Paper. The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands. You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab. Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war? Steve: Sir, that’s all I want. Senator Brandt: Then, congratulations. You just got promoted.

---

Steve: I don’t know if I can do this. Brandt’s Aide: Nothing to it. Sell off a few bonds, bonds buy bullets, bullets kills Nazi’s. Bing bang boom. You’re an American hero. Steve: It’s just not how I pictured getting there.

---

Peggy: I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"? Steve: Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit. Peggy: Is that Senator Brandt I hear? Steve: At least he’s got me doin’ this. Phillips would have had be stuck in lab. Peggy: And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know?

Steve’s desire for service and duty being manipulated by politicians to sell bonds is the exact same scenario as John’s desire for service and duty being manipulated by politicians to make him the new Captain America. It’s even echoed by Val’s continued manipulations in using John’s loyalty to service and country into getting him to do what she wants. 

Steve was nervous, reluctant, and unsure of going on stage to perform. We saw the same concerns that John had in that locker room before his big interview. Neither Steve nor John wanted the fame and pageantry, they just wanted to do the job, they just wanted to help, but both having to accept that the “dancing monkey” aspect came with the job description. 

But Steve breaks free of the confines of others’ demands of him because Peggy not only points out that he has other options, but also because it was in that moment he discovered that Bucky was either missing or dead and he could do something about it. If Steve wasn’t having that conversation with Peggy, if Steve hadn’t heard that Bucky was missing, then he might have just stayed with the USO tours and been a dancing monkey his whole life. Circumstances arose in Steve’s favor, and he had people who believed in him helping him to get to the goals that he wanted. John on the other hand lost the one person who did have faith in him and there was no way to bring Lemar back, and Val swooped in at the exact right time to give a lost and in-mourning person the opportunity to feel like not everything had been lost.

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

Senator Brandt: I am honored to present this medal for valor to my personal friend, Captain America!

This is an interesting moment because I don’t know if this “medal for valor” is a Medal of Honor or not, but if it was, then it makes Steve’s story and John’s story even more of a similar parallel.

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

Private Lorraine: I read about what you did.  Steve: Oh! The…yeah! Well, that’s you know? Just doin’ what needed to be done. Private Lorraine: Sounded like more than that. You saved nearly four hundred men.

When Natalie Dormer’s character comments on how Steve was able to save nearly 400 men and get them back alive, all I could think about was Lemar’s line to John in Episode 4, “think of all the lives we could have saved that day if we had that serum.”

If John and Lemar had the serum on the day of the event that gotten John his Medals of Honor, maybe everyone could have made it back alive, maybe it wouldn’t have been the worst day of John’s life, maybe he wouldn’t have looked at those medals like badges of failure because he couldn’t save everyone.

And it also reminded me of comments from Wyatt Russell during an interview where he mentions that John was in the service while Steve was still operating as Captain America and going around to save the day, but Captain America never saved the day for John. In a way, there is almost a sense of resentment, that Captain America could save the day for everyone else, but John still had to fight through the horrors of war and find a way to survive on his own and protect his men, all without the serum, without Captain America’s help.

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

Peggy: He damn well must have thought you were worth it.

Peggy’s comments to Steve about how Bucky must have thought Steve was worth dying for just reminds me of how Lemar jumped in to tackle Karli and stop her from killing John, all knowing of the risks to his own life, because Lemar definitely thought that John was worth dying for. 

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

Anyways, these were just some of the moments that really jumped out at me in regards to how Cap 1 laid a very interesting foundation for what would be John’s story in TFATWS. This is why I love doing occasional rewatches, it really makes you look at the story in new ways when there’s new information that recontextualizes the film.

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Five

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note :: just got diagnosed with covid so i have a lot of spare time on my hands so ummm send in any requests you have into my ask box i’d love to try doing headcanons!! → next part is here!!

Erwin sees the confused look you have and now he too seems lost as he shifts his line of vision to Levi. At that moment your husband slams his heel and grinds it onto your foot. Squirming around in your seat dealing with the stinging pain you catch on that you can't let Erwin think you're clueless.

Quickly, the look of confusion washes away from your features and you return his smile. "I'm willing to do what I must."

You think you've ruined this entirely because Erwin's eyes dart suspiciously between you and your husband. However, Hange intervenes, the interference seems to be enough for him to shake off any skepticism he senses.

Two hands hold onto your frame and squeeze your shoulders. Hange is standing up and seems ecstatic."You two are just so evil." they cackle to themself and you play along laughing too. You are not giving Levi the opportunity to ram into your foot again. Hange who is practically a personified ray of Sunshine at all times does still seem a little down, you did pick up on it when you entered the room. Maybe it was just you overthinking, that's what you assure yourself with.

Then it settles in your bones. Evil? Blinking you turn to look at Levi hoping for some sort of indication about whatever is going on.

"She wouldn't listen to me at all, said she felt the need to step in and help the Empire in some way." His tone is monotonous, still not sparing you a glance and you want to kick him in the shins. He's usually much more affectionate and you're afraid Squad Leader Hange and Commander Erwin will figure out this is all a facade.

"It's a noble commitment to put yourself forward for such a risky position, I see why you and Lance Corporal Levi are a sound match." Erwin isn't smiling this time but his tone is content.

Mind now buzzing with ideas you want to fall face first into the carpeted floor of the office spread out like a starfish. You would prefer that instead of being left in the dark. Could they simply mention the name of whatever it is you've apparently offered to do?

Levi's clearly grimaces but then he moves to hold your hand rather boldly. Shaking him off isn't an available option because of his strong grip. "She wouldn't listen to me at all. If I had it my way she wouldn't step anywhere near enemy soil." He grumbles.

The fake concern he's trying to lace in his voice is having an effect on his two colleagues, they're eating it up and believe this act.

Enemy soil? Risky position? He has to be stealthily plotting your death because you see no other reason for why you would be sent off to venture anywhere near the enemy. You aren't even apart of their regime, or any regime for that matter, you're itching with nervousness and want to free your hand from his desperately.

The only emotion this man is good at feigning is straight boredom, he ignores the way your hand shakes and squirms, ignores how your palms are dampening with sweat, instead the way he holds onto you only strengthens. It's surprising that no one has said a word about the lack of chemistry between the two of you.

Suddenly Hange looks down at their pocket watch and hurriedly gets to their feet dragging Erwin up with them too. "Y/N, I have something to tell you later on, please do stop by HQ when you can, I expect that will be soon." They then tell Erwin that there's no time to loiter and that there are more important meetings to attend to.

Erwin leans into your ear and whispers. "He seems disturbed that you're putting yourself at risk. He means well." You wish that were the case but it isn't. Despite that the way Erwin tries to explain Levi's behavior is sweet.

Hange gives you a cute thumbs up but makes it a point that you need to speak later on, even as they're both walking out the door Hange keeps reminding you to meet up later on. The abnormal behavior between you and Levi may have been noticed but you know if that were the case Hange would have been more vocal about it.

"Combat classes start soon. We know this will all be difficult, building you up from scratch is hazardous but all in good time you will serve a key role in the liberation of Paradis."

Erwin's parting words are gracious.

And then both the Commander and Squad Leader leave, the room is empty but Levi doesn't even wait for the door to shut behind your two visitors.

He makes it a priority to throw your hand away from his, he's now methodically using his handkerchief to dust his fingers off. It's oddly ironic and enrages you because he's the one who grappled your hand into his grasp. What's the point when those same hands until recently looped around your waist in the middle of the night?

He thinks your hand is filthy, that you yourself are filthy and disgusting. At least that's what you think he thinks.

Crossing your arms over your chest you make your feelings known to Levi. You're frustrated beyond the way words can describe, it's not about how he refuses to touch you. Admittedly that does hurt you, makes your chest swell in remembrance of the old days but you really just want to know what he's put you up to without your permission.

Not speaking you wait for him to take the hint but he doesn't get it or he refuses to acknowledge your existence, something tells you it's the latter because all he cares about is sanitizing his hands.

He always had been a clean freak but when he was enchanted it didn't take much for him to touch you. Part of you wonders if it's the nature of the touch that he wants to exterminate or the fact it's your skin he's come in contact with which is bothering him.

"Care to explain?"

"Touching someone such as yourself romantically gives me the urge to retch." The confession is as acidic as the after taste one has after a late night of drinking, but he has no problem telling you the blunt truth.

"I see." You shortly reply, you weren't asking about that, your question was directed more towards the conversation which just took place with his colleagues but now knowing he doesn't want to touch you has an emptying effect on your chest.

A silent minute passes, maybe two minutes, you're not sure all you're doing is eyeing the carpet thinking about how you would like to be asphyxiated and brought to your end, you can't handle this for much longer.

"Sign these papers, we need your written consent." His voice shows no hints hints of Lev. Last night may have been the last time you had a chance to witness him.

A stack of documents is thrown in front of you and then you see it right at the top of the pile. A sheet filled with general information, eyes skim over the "Purpose of employment" section and you don't know what churns in your stomach. Is it Exasperation? Nerves? Grief? It can't be pinpointed, it could be a mix of all three.

"An Informant."

Rereading the title you hold the paper in disbelief between your palms. "You told your regiment that I would be willing to spy in on enemy kingdoms?"

His hands rub at his forehead, he's not perturbed at all. "Is it in your blood to be ungrateful?" Brutally cynical his tone is rocky.

He moves - not even towards you but for some reason you flinch stopping him in his tracks almost immediately. Narrow ice cold eyes trace your face carefully for any signs of manipulation or deception. Gulping anxiously you know you have to be careful with what you say or do. Getting too comfortable or casual around him is a risk you are not willing to take.

"I don't think you understand. I do not have the abilities nor the skill to do this. I would cause more issues." You cautiously move to grab his arm but before you get there he takes a wide step back. He's clearly defining that there's a boundary. You won't step into his territory not when you've already invaded a large portion of it for so long.

"I am no witch. I still don't understand what happened." You mutter hoping he believes you or at least tries to.

"Then die." Levi hisses. He fixes you with his poisonous stare. "Make it quick."

Curse yourself to a life with this man who every step of the way is hoping for your death - maybe he'll even push you towards it purposefully one day. The alternative choice available is to die by the hands of that same man right now.

Guilt and regret are what you feel, you can't look death in the eye proudly. Not right now. If you can't commit to the promise you made mother then there is truly no point in making your way to the afterlife.

Cowardice is not the cause of death you want to present her with.

With a heavy heart you sign the papers.

It's been a few days since then, you've received training from some of Levi's squad, at first the combat is nerve wracking but you get to a level where you feel comfortable in terms of defense.

Oluo is slow, you've picked up on the way his stance predicts every move he's about to make. You're thankful for that because it makes training easier, he's oblivious to just how easy it is to read his movements and you snigger at that. Today he's trying a new technique, it consists of attempting to dive in the direction of one of your shoulders and suddenly darting at the other. It catches you off guard for a second but it's simple to block him. Jumping back from another surprise attack you lunge forward as if you're aiming for his face. He lights up thinking this is his chance unbeknownst to him you've already seen the open opportunity you've been waiting for. You can change the wager in this brawl. Swiftly ducking you undercut him with one of your legs, his balance has been knocked and he stumbles teetering by a thread.

A solid kick to his stomach is all it takes for him to collapse to the ground grumbling in vexation.

Mikasa has been helping you with one on one combat and the extra hours of training behind the stables has clearly been of benefit.

Thinking back to your training sessions with Mikasa you frown, not because of the way she flipped you and shoved you into the dirt, no that part was quite exhilarating. It's Sasha. She's been on your mind. She has to be feeling left out, that's your fault you've kept her in the dark about joining the regime, how could you attend training with her? Your maid waiting on you whilst you were training? Impossible.

The last problem you wish to arise is everyone finding out you're Duchess Ackerman. No one has to know about that minor detail, in fact when you informed Hange and Erwin of your decision they strongly agreed it would be best to hide it.

"I think we should get you strapped into some gear. See how good you really are in the dexterity department." Oluo is spitefully mumbling under his breath red faced.

Offering him your hand he looks like he wants to smack it away, You don't have time for this, you were planning on dropping by and paying Hange their more than overdue visit after training hours were up.

ODM-gear doesn't look too hard, you're sure you can work out the mechanisms if given some time. Calculating and shifting time blocks in your head you can come to an end at Six, if and only if you're able to rush past ODM training.

"Okay, I admit you were tired today I could tell. I'll strap myself into some gear."

At this new new challenge Oluo willingly takes your hand and you heave him up.

He's got a cocky shit-eating grin sprawled across his face as he pats your back enthusiastically.

"Good luck, you're in for one hell of a ride."

Three dimensional ODM-gear, a contraption that is very different to a sword or dagger. Most soldiers find it difficult to master the balancing of all their body weight whilst simultaneously gliding through the air with the grapple hooks. This is why introductory lessons in balance, momentum and effective weight distribution are a must.

It's been instructed that you won't be using ODM-gear nearly as much as other members of the regiment, you're training to become a spy after all and ODM-gear is very obviously visible when a person is strapped into their uniform. Nevertheless it's still a requirement to be able to use it. It's a hurdle because it's not your forte by any means but you can't continue avoiding it.

When living as the Duchess you deemed it pivotal to only interact with a limited number of Levi's colleagues, those who worked at the estate couldn't be avoided such as Mikasa but apart from that Hange was the only outsider you spoke to (Before Erwin had come along). You don't know if you regret that decision because it's definitely why everyone is cackling as you thrash around, they have no idea he has a wife and if they do they show no inclination of knowing you are that woman.

Sniggers can be heard as you struggle to center your strength fully, your instructor bellows at you. "No, come on. STOP FLAILING AROUND!" Particles of his saliva fly in your face and that only feeds into your embarrassment. Paralyzed you don't know what to do, he tells you to not move around then the next minute barks at you to not give up, repeats that you have the agility level equivalent of a sick child.

You've been stuck in this upside down position for more time than you can imagine, at some point a large majority of the scouts including Oluo double down in laughter whenever you make a mistake - they berate you when you are trying your best.

Legs kicking out you're panicking and want to escape the harness you're in.

Oluo was right, nothing could prepare you for this.

Mikasa when she isn't busy assisting Levi is a part of the regime too, that's why she's grinding her teeth this morning when she walks into the training grounds and sees the whole scene play out right before her eyes.

She wants to desperately step in and stop this because you being forced into ODM training without having your core strength developed is unfair.

Then a yell is heard from the crowd "GO Y/N!! LISTEN TO ME ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS KEEP CALM!" Both you and Mikasa turn to see Sasha standing next to her.

Sasha? Mikasa knows very well how you forbade her to follow you today, you gave her the day off to visit her family.

"I thought Y/N warned yo-"

"I am dedicated in my service to the Lady, if she chooses to do this I will be by her side to support her. She does not have to feel embarrassed."

Members of the corps are eyeing her weirdly when she says "Lady" she doesn't know you're keeping your identity secret, that was the reason for giving her time away, you were afraid she'd slip up and expose you but simply hearing Sasha proudly announce her commitment for you in front of all these people knocks the wind right out of your chest. You've never felt this much importance before.

Sasha's motivation is all you need because by a miraculous turn of events you manage to steady your breathing pattern and find it within yourself to focus on your core. Wobbling shakily the transition is far from smooth but you flip yourself right side up, the muscles in your calf ache and throb with pain but you've done it.

Grinning from ear to ear at your two friends you feel light-headed with relief.

"Took her long enough." Levi sneers. He's made his way to the front of the crowd, you wonder when he got here. Beaming at him you think your presentation might be enough to discourage his usual response. You're incorrect.

"She's a shame to this squad, there is no need in motivating someone of her rank." Shallow breaths puffing out of you it comes to your attention that he's addressing Sasha.

She ignores what he has to say about you and stays silent, any normal person would have their head hanging down in shame but she looks into his eyes with a determination that takes your breath away.

He pays her no mind after that and turns back to where you're still struggling to keep steady. "Don't think you're hot shit." Your bottom teeth dig into your lip, and your throat suddenly clamps down on you restricting your breath. "She's no good at combat, no good at using her gear. Do you only excel at spreading lies, Cadet?" The way he's now completely indignant in the way he speaks stings. He doesn't even bother to sound normal in front of Mikasa or Sasha anymore, it makes you manually hollow your cheeks trying to keep your tears at bay.

Lies, you know what he's referencing. You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt and throw him to the muddy ground. That's what he deserves for prodding and poking at your vulnerabilities.

He doesn't understand the degree at which all these sudden changes are affecting you, in his eyes this is light work and shouldn't impact you at all, that's why when you feel a muscle contraction and reel backwards, rapidly falling back into that cursed upside down position. He scoffs, doesn't even move to check if you're okay.

Whispers circle around you and even some of the cadets who participated in ridiculing you step forward to take you out of your harness. However, Sasha and Mikasa get there first and shoot them with their intense glares, the both of them work on hoisting you out of your gear.

Levi takes one last look at you before he storms away convinced you're faking, what else would a runt like you do to escape the situation?

In his mind you lost your momentum and your ship capsized because of your own self sabotage.

Little does he know all that has truly lost momentum is the inner-workings of your heart and that is all thanks to him.

[annaraebananawriter]

1: Just a Bad Dream; Dying in LA

PLEASE READ NOTE BEFORE STORY:

Yellow everyone! I just wanted to warn you that I’m still kind of recovering from burning myself out, so don’t expect anything too awesome this week. I think Day 1 is actually the best that I’ve written for it, so far, so...It’s really just for me to stretch my muscles out again and get back into the flow.

With that said, this is Dy 1 of Dark Cream Week by @zu-is-here

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically UTMV

Characters: Shattered Dream (Who belongs to Galacii), Cross (Who belongs to Jakei) and mentioned Nightmare (who belongs to Joku)

Pairings: For now, implied Cream/Dark Cream

Warnings: I can’t remember, so let me know!

Word Count: 2096

~oOo~

The moment you arrived

They built you up

The sun was in your eyes

You couldn't believe it

~oOo~

They say that fate determines how you end up in life.

They say that destiny determines what you do in life.

These two things work in harmony with each other, one influencing the other around and around in a never-ending circle. Everyone was touched by them before they were born, the seed for skills necessary to succeed planted in them, waiting to be grown. No matter what happens, nothing pushes you away from what fate and destiny have determined for you.

It does not matter if your actions are good. If you give everything away and help everyone you come across. If you love your friends and family and strangers unconditionally. If you ignore yourself in favor of others.

It does not matter if your actions are bad. If you spit and sneer at everyone around you. If you yell and hit in anger and hate. If you hold your needs in front of everyone else and ignore those who should have just a little bit of attention too.

It simply does not matter.

Your fate and destiny have been determined already.

Why bother changing it?

~oOo~

Riches all around

You're walking

Stars are on the ground

You start to believe it

~oOo~

Cross was familiar with loss and guilt. When you kill your family and friends, try to delete other worlds, you tend to do so out of pain, driven only by a desperate hope that you can fix what you’ve done. But you can’t. Actions have consequences and the world will not let you go without them. He knows this well, almost too well.

Nothing stops the hurt, though. He’s tried. It was still there, stinging through every bandage and healing balm. If it shrunk, it only grew stronger. Other people tried to help as well, but their efforts were also in vain. Guilt comes from the loss that his actions have caused and that guilt causes this pain that will always be there, no matter how small and weak it eventually becomes.

This was his consequence. He’s learned to accept that now.

He’s learned to walk through the hurt and try and be better.

It was hard, yes. Stumbling and tripping over his feet, hesitant to make any decision lest it be the wrong one and reset his progress. There were many times where he thought that he’d stepped over the line and that they were going to quit on him, leaving him alone again. But they didn’t. They stayed, and the stumbling smoothed out to captiousness, the hesitance smoothed into nervousness. He would not be as confident as he once was, not for a while yet, but it was a start.

He was trying. That’s all that mattered.

And now he can stand on a hill, look into the blue sky and see the colours surrounding him and he can smile. A small, serene smile made of pure content, pride for himself. He can relax his shoulders and just breathe for a moment or two.

Everything was getting better.

Until he looks to his left and see yet another consequence to his newer actions, what his pained words snarled in a patient yet hurt smiling face.

Until Dream takes that step off the edge.

~oOo~

Every face along the boulevard

Is a dreamer just like you

~oOo~

“Don’t touch me! Just…just stop trying to help!”

“I lost my entire family, my home, and he gave me the hope that I could get it back. Why should I believe that you’re not just giving me the exact same false hope?”

“Some guardian you are…”

“You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through!”

But Dream did, Cross realized it now.

Dream had lost his family, his home, too, in the blink of an eye. Not only that, but he was put in a position to fight his brother, whom had changed so much he might as well’ve been a stranger, over and over again. The pressure to do that and still be happy, or at least act like it, must’ve been immense. Cross couldn’t begin to imagine it.

They had both lost their family and been hurt in very similar ways.

Cross just wished he realized this sooner.

~oOo~

You looked at death in a tarot card

And you saw what you had to do

~oOo~

Cross didn’t try to stop Nightmare as he ran away.

He was focused on the skeleton in pain in front of them. The one who was crying, black sludge spilling down and covering his bones, tinted gold as if in reminder of what it used to be. The one who reached a hand up, to try and stop his brother from leaving, but didn’t get far before dropping it to the ground, another pained noise escaping him.

Cross was frozen. He willed his legs to move, instinct in his mind saying to turn and run away too, away from danger, away from him. But he didn’t. He stayed put, legs not listening and just watched.

Underneath the instinct was a different kind of pain. It burned instead of stinging and left his soul aching in a way he had never felt before. He was suddenly all too aware of the ring he kept in his pocket, one the skeleton in front of him had turned down. It made a lump grow in his throat and he swallowed, clenching his hands.

Dream hunched over, arms wrapped around himself.

And all at once, Cross realized something.

If his words had had any part in leading up to this…

His legs finally moved and he rushed forward, reaching for Dream, for the one he held so close to his heart, wrapping his arms around him, even though he could not shield him from something within.

If his actions had this consequence, if his consequence had given up on himself, then he would have to be the one that stayed, that brought him back.

He’ll do it, or die in the process.

~oOo~

But nobody knows you now

When you're dying in LA

And nobody owes you now

When you're dying in LA

~oOo~

If fate and destiny have predetermined your story, then what does it matter how you act? If your good or bad, what does it matter? What does it matter if all your actions just bring you back to the path, no matter how far you try and stray from it?

What does anything matter?

~oOo~

When you're dying in LA

~oOo~

Good can be bad and bad can be good.

This is a fact.

But does it change anything?

What does it matter?

~oOo~

When you're dying in LA

~oOo~

“I’m tired.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why can’t you see that I’m just like you?”

“Why do we have to be enemies?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry”

“Please…don’t leave me alone again…”

“I love you.”

~oOo~

The power, the power, the power

Oh the power, the power, the power

Of LA

~oOo~

Good is bad and bad is good.

What will change because of this?

~oOo~

Nights at the chateau

Trapped in your sunset bungalow

You couldn't escape it

~oOo~

Dream is familiar with emptiness and betrayal. He’s watched his home burn, his mother cut in half and his brother metaphorically die. All of these were caused by the villagers, people Dream once believed to be his friend, no matter how harsh they might’ve been at times. When you see everyone you care about die by the hands of someone you also care about, that is what causes the emptiness.

This emptiness did not mean he didn’t feel, no. He felt quite a lot actually. Happiness, grief, calmness, anger…love…he felt them all, some more so than others. They weren’t smothered or dulled in anyway by the emptiness. No, the emptiness was rather just a numbness he’s gained to certain situations. He can’t change it.

It was his consequence. He accepts this.

He hasn’t accepted fighting his brother nonstop until one of them is dead.

It was disorienting when he started, almost like he was trying to wake on quicksand and every step he took only dragged him further down. Everything was new. He had to learn fast how to shoot a bow, how to dodge, how to block, how to run. How to survive. All while his brother watched and laughed in amusement.

That was what hurt most of all. The amusement. Brothers were supposed to care for each other, help each other stay safe and heal from injuries. They weren’t supposed to laugh at you while you barely dodged the tentacle aiming for your soul. They aren’t supposed to be trying to kill you at all.

He hated it.

~oOo~

Yeah

~oOo~

Apples are dangerous. They’re enticing. You want to take a bite of it, regardless of the effects it’ll do to your body and soul, in what ways it’ll warp your mind. They beckon you and lure you in, until all you can think about is what it’ll taste like, that savoury bite.

Nightmare wasn’t able to resist this temptation.

And if the saying goes that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…

Then it should only make sense Dream would follow in his footsteps.

~oOo~

Drink of paradise

They told you put your blood on ice

You're not gonna make it

~oOo~

Nightmare ran away from him.

The coward.

Dream doesn’t understand why. Brothers should support brothers when they decide to become better, to change how the world sees them, to try and prove they can’t be all good. They shouldn’t run, horror etched on their face as if this wasn’t supposed to happen, that he’d made such a terrible mistake.

“You can’t make mistakes, you’re positivity! You have to be perfect all the time.”

He runs his hands over each other, taking in the new coating of sludge while he waits for Cross, his lov—subordinate to wake up. It was just like Nightmare’s, the same consistency and everything, though his had a golden tint to it, rather than turquoise.

Of course.

Even corrupted, he was still positivity.

~oOo~

Every face along the boulevard

Is a dreamer just like you

~oOo~

He felt stronger. But weaker at the same time.

Was that a thing?

He felt like he could bend people to his will, make them listen just like he wants the entire multiverse to. He can’t stop thinking about people crying as he plays out illusion upon illusion in front of them, slowly dwindling their hope and love and any other positivity until it was completely shattered.

And yet, he can’t help but get the feeling that there’s a shakiness within him. Something is unbalanced, wobbling in his soul. It feels poisoned. He has no clue what it could be. He did everything the right way, he’s proven his worth, so everything should be fine now, right?

Everything was fine.

It had to be.

~oOo~

You looked at death in a tarot card

And you saw what you had to do

~oOo~

Cross groaned behind him, making Dream perk up. “…Night…mare?”

Were they really that similar now? Interesting. The thought that his brother and him can never stop being twins makes Dream giggle under his breath as he turns, smiling as Cross’s eyes widen.

“Not quite.”

~oOo~

But nobody knows you now

When you're dying in LA

And nobody owes you now

When you're dying in LA

~oOo~

Fate and destiny are predetermined things…but they are not a gift, no.

They are a curse.

Bad gets jealous of good and tries to prove he can be just the same as his counterpart, but only succeeds in cursing himself farther. Good is hurt by this and centuries go by.

Good gets desperate, nothing enough anymore, so he tries to prove tat he can be just the same as his counterpart, both succeeding and failing. He’s cursed himself, too.

Bad runs away, leaving good.

And now they’ve both strayed from their path.

~oOo~

When you're dying in LA

~oOo~

Good is bad and bad is good.

Or are they?

How can we tell? Who are we to say?

They will determine that for themselves, who is who.

~oOo~

When you're dying in LA

~oOo~

“…are you crying?”

“Don’t stop.”

“It feels amazing!”

~oOo~

The power, the power, the power

Oh, the power, the power, the power

~oOo~

Fate has bended and destiny is broken.

How will this change things?

~oOo~

Of LA

[the-gay-prometheus]

AU Segment - What’s In A Name (Parts 1 and 2 Combined!)

Oh hey, hi, hello. I finally finished this bit! I’m not sure how I entirely feel about it, but considering all of these segments are still just ‘test runs’ for this AU, that’s kinda to be expected. No warnings needed for these to my knowledge, just wholesome silly stuff and a bit of heartfelt moments thrown in. Just some notes before I share this full segment: 1. You’ll notice that unlike the last segment I posted, the creature is simply called Creature with a capital c rather than “the creature.” There is a reason for this! The narrator, although omniscient, has a bias toward Victor and his point of view about this character. The name of said character changes along with Victor’s view of him - from being a mess of all kinds of nasty things (’beast,’ ‘monster,’ ‘demon,’ etc.), to simply being ‘the creature, then to being more of a formal name ‘Creature,’ and finally to his actual name. In moments where Victor is particularly upset with this character, the title used by the narrator may change to reflect that. 2. This is veeeery very long considering it’s both parts 1 and 2. Knowing tumblr, formatting may get all screwed up, but I’m hoping for the best! 3. Both parts will also be posted to ao3 in their own works, so if you’d rather have links to them there so you’re not endlessly scrolling through a massive wall of text, feel free to ask! 4. I’m still practicing my ‘not-so-angsty’ writing, so some parts may be a little wonky because the wholesome silly stuff is not quite where my skills lie yet 😅 5. Special shout-out to @fergus-reid! The name ‘Percival’ suggested in part two that Victor rejects because it is a ‘name that he heavily considered’ was 100% influenced by his incredible podcast “The Marksbury Incident” - a beautifully written and acted modern/cross-over type AU where Victor is also a trans man (and canonically considered the name Percival for himself)! It’s a really neat story and I totally recommend checking it out! As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are appreciated! Without further ado, I present ‘What’s In A Name?’

PART 1: “How about… hm… Gabriel?” Victor and Creature trekked along the mountain trail, Victor taking the lead so Creature wouldn’t go too far ahead. “That’s a good name, don’t you think?” Creature shrugged his shoulders, pausing to inspect the nearly white bark of a silver fir, tracing along the jagged edges with curiosity. “Is that a no?” Victor asked, somewhat out of breath as he turned to check on his creation. “Yes, that is a no,” Creature mumbled as he looked upward toward the top of the tall conifer. “Oh! I know! How about Luca? It means light!” Creature turned toward him with a disappointed frown. “Perfect, because surely I am the light of your life,” he remarked with clear sarcasm. For a moment Victor was almost impressed; after all, this was the first he had heard him make any kind of obviously sarcastic… joke? Was it a joke? “Well, no, that would be Henry,” Victor replied, turning back toward the trail and motioning for Creature to follow. “But you were born of lightning, so it would at least have some sentimental meaning?” The creation shook his head. “I would rather not be consistently reminded of my origins.” The two continued along the trail, Victor staying quiet as he tried to think of another name that might work. As they walked, they came along a portion of the trail with a steep, rocky cliff that harbored the continuation of the trail on top. Victor, being the stubborn person he was, insisted that he could climb up himself, but each time he tried to scrabble up, he would lose his hold or lose his footing and fall back down. Though he continued to insist he could do it, Creature lifted him up and set him on the top of the stone. Victor shot him a nasty look, brushing off his clothing as if where he had touched him was somehow now dirty, but Creature ignored it and hoisted himself up to the top with ease. “Then how about Adam?” Victor suggested, turning and starting his way down the trail once again. Creature stood at the cliff edge, staring at his creator. “After all, you came up with that one yourself.” “I… I do not want a name that I came up with,” Creature began. “I would much rather it come from you.” Victor gave him an odd look. “What does it matter? A name is a name, right? I named myself and you don’t see me complaining about it,” he retorted, crossing his arms. He glanced off to the side, then frowned. “Well… I suppose Henry technically helped- but I’m the one who chose it.” Creature crossed his own arms and gave him the kind of look that said ‘well, there’s the answer to your own question.’ Victor stared at him, then dramatically waved his arms and spun around. “Fine! Fine. Alright. What if I said I was giving that name to you because I thought it fit you and not because you came up with it? I mean, it is rather fitting considering-” “Then you missed my entire point of what I had said when I brought that name up,” Creature cut him off. Victor looked back to him. “Then what were you saying?” “I said I ought to be your Adam but… that it was not who I actually was to you. It was…” He hesitated. “A painful moment for me, Victor. To come to the realization that everything I should have been was everything I never would have had the chance to be.” Victor sighed, hanging his head. “Well, what if it’s who you are to me now?” he asked, his voice sincere. Creature shook his head. “That makes no difference. Once again it would simply be a reminder of such dreadful memories. I would rather live my life without being constantly reminded of my past simply by someone calling me by my name.” Victor didn’t answer, opting instead to take a step and continue onward. Creature hesitated, but followed all the same. “Gilbert?” Victor called out as he walked. Creature couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well that was out of nowhere.” “But is it a no?” “Yes, it is a no.” Victor made a grunt of disappointment, then looked around, pointing to a tall conifer with beautiful vibrant orange needles. “What about Larch? Like the tree?” he asked. His creation paused, looking at the tree and others of its species around them. “It is certainly a beautiful tree,” he remarked simply. “Though I am not sure it is a good name.” “Come on, it’s a great name!” Victor exclaimed, turning back to the trail and clambering his way up a boulder that blocked the path. “I will… give it some thought,” Creature promised with a slight smile, hopping over the boulder as though it were only a mild inconvenience. “That doesn’t sound like a no to me,” Victor proposed, grinning. “It is not a no, but it is also not a yes,” Creature explained, reaching up and plucking a handful of the orange needles from one of the trees and inspecting them closer. “Then it’s basically a no and I should keep going,” Victor suggested. Far ahead, the trees cleared and open sky above distant ridgeline could be seen - signifying they were nearly home - and Victor let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you I’d have a name for you by the time we got home. You’re making this more difficult than it has to be.” “And I told you that these things take far more time than what one walk will procure,” Creature countered. “Not that you listen to me, of course.” He continued onward, passing Victor, who watched as he walked by. “I don’t listen to anyone,” Victor called to him as he watched him walk. “I thought that would’ve been fairly obvious by now.” “Oh, it is certainly obvious, but that does not make it - or you, for that matter - any less irritating, Victor,” his creation answered from ahead. Victor frowned. “Hey- Hey! Wait up!” He scrambled as he broke into a run, tripping over a stone and nearly falling but somehow miraculously not falling flat on his face. “What was that supposed to mean?” Creature kept walking, pausing to lift a bough that crossed in front of the path and ducking beneath it, holding it away from the trail so Victor could pass without walking into it. “I was simply stating a fact,” he mentioned, letting the branch go once Victor was through. “Hmph.” Victor strode past him, ducking his way through the last tangle of branches before emerging to the ledge where their little hut stood. “Could’ve kept it to yourself,” he grumbled as he straightened his vest and brushed off his coat. “I will keep that in mind,” Creature stated, emerging beside him with at least one twig sticking awkwardly out of his long black hair. Victor looked up at him, staring at the twig in his hair with narrowed eyes until Creature got the hint that there was something there, then started making his way back toward their home with his shoulders drooped and his eyes on the ground. Grumbling something about how ungrateful his creation was, he made his way to the door, reached for it, and then- whack! The door flew open, hitting Victor directly in the face and knocking him backward. He clutched at his nose with a yelp of pain. Creature couldn’t help but chuckle - this was at least the third time this had happened in the past week alone. It was Henry who had opened the door, and who had promptly let out a sharp gasp of surprise upon seeing his boyfriend dramatically writhing around on the ground with his hand over his face. “Good lord Victor!” he exclaimed, dropping to the ground to check if he was ok. Victor sucked in a breath and hissed it out through his teeth, slowly removing his hand from his nose and blinking his eyes back open. Upon seeing Henry, directly above him, he managed a half smile. “You’re lucky I love you,” he sneered, pushing himself up onto his hands. Henry grinned, planting a kiss on Victor’s lips, which Victor gladly reciprocated. As he pulled back, Henry stood, offering a hand to help his boyfriend up from the ground. “I know I am,” Henry answered Victor’s original statement with a smirk. “Not that he poses much of a threat regardless,” Creature quipped from behind them. Victor rolled his eyes and Henry snickered. “Well, threat or not,” he began, wrapping his arm around Victor, “How’d it go? Did you two finally figure out a name?” “No, we didn’t. That one is too stubborn,” Victor complained, pointing to his creation. “I simply did not relate to any of the names you suggested, Victor. That is not stubbornness, that is…” He paused, thinking of how to word it. “Well… I suppose it could be stubbornness.” Henry shook his head. “Not stubbornness at all. A name is an important and meaningful thing, so if you have yet to hear one that you feel fits you, then it just doesn’t fit and that’s all there is to it,” he explained with a kind smile. Victor gave him a side-eyed glance, then sighed. “Alright, sure. Not stubborn. Just irritating,” he retorted, giving Creature a sneer. Creature stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, you did create me, after all.” Henry tried to hold back a laugh, and couldn’t help but let it out as Victor pushed him away with a scoff. “I am not irritating!” he announced, earning even harder laughter from Henry. He spun on his heels to face him, crossing his arms. “It’s not funny! I’m not irritating!” “Pfff- Yes you are!” Henry exclaimed through his laughter. Victor wanted to be angry, but Henry’s laughter was contagious as always and he found himself starting to snicker along. “No I’m not!” he repeated, though much less seriously. “You most certainly are,” Creature mentioned, starting to chuckle a bit himself. “I- I am absolutely not,” Victor reiterated, trying to make himself sound very serious but only making himself - as well as Henry and Creature - laugh even harder. “Yes you are!” Henry teased, reaching out and flicking Victor’s nose. Victor flung his hand up and stumbled back. “Ow! Henry that’s still sore!” he exclaimed reaching out to flick him back. Henry jumped out of the way and took off toward the open land of the ridge just beyond their hut still laughing as he gave his boyfriend a look that seemed to say ‘just try to catch me.’ Victor smirked and ran off after him, shouting “You sly bastard- get back here!” Creature watched them chase one another, his laughter slowly subsiding to a smiling sigh. Name or no name, he felt like he was finally so much closer to the life he wanted - a loving family of sorts, though a strange family it may be. He watched as Henry switched directions and came up from behind Victor, tackling him to the ground. Though he couldn’t make out what they were saying, he could hear as their own laughter turned to quiet words, and then to quiet as Henry silenced Victor with another kiss. A content expression on his face, Creature lay back, sprawled out on the ground, and watched the clouds as they passed through the sky. PART 2: The afternoon was fair-weathered and peaceful, blue sky hardly obscured by a few fluffy clouds with the sun casting its brilliant light evenly over the mountains. Creature had spent just about the entirety of the last few hours still lying on the ground, the first half watching the clouds that passed by while considering each shape they took as they changed with the wind, and the second half so well at peace that he had fallen asleep. That was, of course, until the feeling of something being dropped on his chest caused his eyes to snap open. Above him stood Henry, who was looking down at him with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Creature managed an awkward smile in return, and looked down at what had been dropped on him. He recognized the small leather bag and gently plucked it off his chest, reaching up to drop it back into Henry’s now waiting outstretched hand. “Fancy a game?” Henry asked with a grin, shaking the bag and causing the contents inside to clink and rattle. Creature chuckled and slowly lifted himself upright. “Of course, though you could have woken me in perhaps a less startling manner,” he replied. “Where’s the fun in that?” Henry joked, tossing the bag back and forth between his hands. “Will Victor be joining us?” Creature inquired as he rose to his feet and brushed the dust and dirt from his cloak and pants. “Begrudgingly, yes,” came a flat voice from behind him. He turned to find Victor standing there, looking almost entirely unamused - almost, though Creature could tell he was actually looking forward to it. Henry was the first to jog over to their typical outdoor playing spot, a fairly flat length of stone close to the edge of the ledge, and emptied the contents of the bag onto the ground. An array of clearly non-professionally made dominos, all somewhat unevenly cut with a yellow-stained tint (the clear sign of being made with real bone), clattered down and Henry quickly flipped any that fell right-side-up over so that only the blank sides were facing. Creature arrived and sat down carefully, knowing the drill by now and beginning to choose his five tiles. Victor flopped himself down beside Henry, faking an annoyed sigh as he started to pick his tiles. Henry caught the fake sigh and snatched one of the tiles Victor was about to pick before he could take it, resulting in the two in the two of them giving each other mock-mad looks before they both devolved into a small fit of giggles. As the two of them continued to pester each other while picking their tiles, Creature picked up his own tiles to see if he had managed to pick up a doubles tile. “All-threes as usual, correct?” he mentioned above their antics. Henry looked up at him with a nod. “Yes, unless you wanted to try something different today?” Creature thought for a moment. “No, I am content with the usual.” “Well that’s perfect,” Victor quipped as he looked at his tiles, his expression brightening. He set one of his tiles down, one with six pips on both ends. “Twelve points for me,” he mused, picking up a small splinter of stone and scratching twelve tally marks down beside him on a bare spot of the stone ground amongst a multitude of other scratched-over tallies from games past. “Perfect for me too,” Henry teased, placing a tile with six pips on one end and none on the other. “That’s twelve points for me also.” Victor shot him a clearly sarcastically scathing glance, which Henry countered with a smirk as he reached for the stone splinter Victor had been keeping tally with to tally his own points. “It seems we are starting this with a tie,” Creature examined, placing a fully blank tile beside the one Henry had placed down before picking up a much larger splinter of stone beside him and carving out twelve tallies for himself. Victor gave him a disappointed glance before checking his own tiles and finding one he could place, though it would earn him no more points. Henry placed his next tile and the turn was passed to Creature, who managed to score another twelve points. “Hey Victor, I think I figured out what name we should give him,” Henry mentioned with sarcasm as Creature scratched down his tallies. Creature glanced upward, listening carefully. Victor didn’t answer, but instead rolled his hand in a motion that meant ‘go on.’ Henry snickered as he placed down a tile of his own. “I think we should call him Victor the Second because at this rate you’re going to lose your winning streak.” “No, I think we should call him Henry,” Victor countered, voice dripping with sarcasm as he played his own next tile and scratched down six points for himself. “I am not taking either of your names,” Creature muttered with a slight smile as he placed his next tile down and etched twelve more points on his tally. “That would be far too strange.” “Fair enough,” Henry replied, checking his tiles and realizing he needed to draw from the free-pile in order to place one down. “How about… Ah! I’ve got it!” he exclaimed. “How about Hector?” Both Victor and Creature gave him an odd look. “Hector?” Victor repeated, raising one eyebrow as he also picked up a few tiles from the free pile in order to find one to place down - which he did, and scratched in three points for himself. “Henry, Victor,” Henry explained, raising one hand with each name. “Hector,” he finished, clapping his hands together. Victor couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter, and Creature chuckled softly as well. “Amusing and sweet, Henry, but I do not think that is the name for me,” he replied, placing his final tile down. Checking over the playing area again, he grinned. “And I do believe that is a win.” Victor shot his glance down. “What?!” He looked at what had been put down. “How? Are you already out of bones?” Creature nodded. “Indeed.” “Ha!! The unbeatable Victor finally tastes defeat!” Henry exclaimed, ruffling his fingers through Victor’s hair - Victor, who flicked his hand away to take a closer look at the spread as if somehow that would make it change. “No, no - not possible. Absolutely impossible.” He looked up at Creature and squinted. “You cheated somehow.” Creature gave him a confused look. “I… do not believe it is even possible to cheat at this game?” “Don’t mind him, he’s just being a sore loser,” Henry reassured him, bumping Victor in the shoulder with his elbow. Victor gave a huff and crossed his arms. “Rematch?” Creature nodded. “If you are both so inclined.” Victor glanced away, trying to hold back a smile. Truth was, he actually was very much enjoying himself. “... Fine,” he said at a length, beginning to flip and mix the tiles. They each plucked their dominos from the pile. “Anyone have a double six?” Henry asked as he looked at his tiles. Victor and Creature both looked at each other as if asking each other the same question, then both shook their heads. Creature looked back down at his tiles, then placed down a double five. “Good enough.” “How about Daniel?” Victor asked as Henry played a tile. “Do you have a reason for that name?” Creature responded as Victor played his next and scratched a new tally of three. “Not particularly. It’s just a nice name,” Victor replied, gesturing that it was his turn. “I see.” Creature placed a tile, and scratched a six for himself, which prompted a quiet ‘scheisse!’ from Victor. He couldn’t help but smile at the reaction. “I would have to say no.” “Does it have to be a name with meaning?” Victor asked as he watched Henry play his turn. “I would prefer it to, if possible.” Victor thought for a moment as he placed his next tile. “Percival is a good name,” Henry suggested with a smirk toward Victor. Victor gave a thoughtful look, then furrowed his brow and gave Henry a look of flat annoyance. “He can’t just have the name I didn’t take,” he muttered. “You had considered naming yourself Percival?” Creature inquired as he picked up a tile from the draw pile and placed it down, etching a twelve in his tallies. “Considered it, yes,” Victor grumbled in reply. “I… do like the sentiment of taking on your unused name,” Creature mentioned, thinking it through more as he watched Henry play his next turn. “Well- you can’t have it,” Victor responded, picking up two tiles and placing one down. “What about Prometheus? I fancied myself to be like him while I was making you, so there would be some meaning to it.” Creature took a moment to think, then shook his head. “I feel I really do not want something that relates in any way to my creation. Not… that I resent being created, mind you, but I have tried to put the past behind me as much as possible, as you know,” he explained as he set down his next tile. Victor sighed heavily, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand as Henry played his turn and scratched a twelve down for himself. They continued their turns in relative silence, until finally as the sun was beginning to set in the sky it was Victor who placed his final tile. Though he felt like he should be celebrating that, instead Victor felt… defeated. He got up, muttering, “Good game, both of you,” before sulking off back to the cabin. Henry watched him go with a concerned gaze. “Have I… said something wrong?” Creature asked quietly, suddenly beginning to worry that he had hurt his creator in some way. Henry sighed. “No, you’re fine,” he reassured him as he began collecting the tiles and placing them back into their holding pouch. “You coming inside?” Creature shook his head. “I… think I will stay out here for the time being.” Henry smiled at him and gave him an understanding nod before making his way to the cabin. As he stepped inside, he set the pouch down on the side table by the door and made his way into what they considered the ‘common space,’ where Victor sat by the fireplace which only softly glowed with a freshly started fire. “Are you alright, love?” Henry asked gently, sitting beside him and wrapping an arm around him. Victor heaved a shaky sigh and rested his head on Henry’s shoulder. “I just… I feel like I can’t do right by him,” he mumbled, pressing himself closer to his boyfriend. “Nothing I’ve ever done has been… right.” Henry listened carefully as he spoke, holding him tighter and resting his head against Victor’s. “Well, you’re trying, aren’t you?” he suggested softly. “I think he’s just happy that you’re trying.” “Trying isn’t enough,” Victor stated, sitting upright and staring into the small, flickering flames. “After all I’ve done and all I’ve said, trying isn’t enough.” “Then let’s change our approach,” Henry recommended with a smile, reaching out and gently turning Victor’s face toward him to give him a tender kiss. Victor exhaled softly and leaned into it, then slowly pulled back. “How so?” “We could start by doing what we did when we chose your name.” Victor’s eyes widened. “Oh!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Henry, you’re a genius!” “I’m flattered, but that honor belongs to you, love,” Henry quipped with a grin. “Come on - let’s start reading.” The two of them scoured the collection of books that Henry had brought up with him, picking out names and sounding them off to each other one by one. They went through book after book until the sun disappeared and the sky went dark, either one of them occasionally throwing a new log into the fire to ensure they had plenty of light and warmth. After a few hours, Victor stared down at a page, and uttered, “I think I’ve got it.” Henry looked up from his own book and set it down, swiftly moving over to him. Victor pointed a word out to him. “That one.” Henry gave him a quizzical look. “Are you sure? That’s hardly a name.” Victor looked up at him. “I know, but think about the meaning! It’s perfect!” Henry thought for a moment, then wrapped his arms around him with a smile. “With a bit of tweaking, I think you might be right,” he murmured, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You really do mean it, don’t you.” Victor glanced back at him. “Hm?” “You’ve really come to care for him, I mean,” Henry explained, releasing his grip. Victor hesitated, but then nodded. “I have - genuinely. I just… hope this will be enough to prove it.” “I’m sure it will be perfect.” Creature was sitting out near the edge of the ledge, resting his weight on his hands as he stared up at the stars as they glittered above. Victor took a deep breath as he stepped outside and breathed out slowly. You can do this. It’ll be fine, he thought to himself as he walked over as quietly as he could. He sat beside his creation, and tilted his head back to look upward as well. Creature turned his head slightly to look at him, then returned to his stargazing. “Agape,” Victor said suddenly. “...What?” Creature asked, once again looking over to him. Victor kept his eyes on the stars, but smiled slightly. “Do you know what it means?” Creature stared at him, thinking, then returned his gaze upward. “It is… Greek.” “That’s right.” He thought some more, racking his brain for memories of the word. “One of the… three Greek forms of love, correct?” Victor nodded. “Indeed.” He glanced away as he continued to think. “...If I recall correctly, it is considered the highest form of love. A deep, profound respect. Some define it as… the mutual love between God and man, and between man and God.” Victor’s smile grew - his creation’s intelligence still continued to amaze and fascinate him. “That is also correct. Though… I think I’d like to propose a more general definition.” Creature looked over at him. “What definition would that be?” Victor took a moment, then closed his eyes. “The mutual love between a creator at his creation, and between a creation and his creator.” Creature’s eyes widened, and for the sake of trying not to immediately shed a tear by thinking about that statement, he stared back up to the heavens. “That is… a definition I could approve of.” “How about a name?” “A… name?” “Is it a name you could approve of?” Victor reiterated, opening his eyes and looking over to see that Creature was now once again staring at him, though this time clearly not trying to hide the tears in his gleaming yellow eyes. His silence disturbed him, and he looked away. “...No, no nevermind - forget it. Forget it.” “Victor I,” Creature began, his voice soft and shaken. “That is so much more of a meaningful name than I could have ever imagined.” Victor glanced back at him. “Are you sure?” Creature nodded, smiling wide as tears streamed down his face. “I have scarcely been more sure.” Victor swallowed back tears of his own and smiled back to him. “Then consider it finalized, Agape.” He paused, then leaned forward and embraced him as tightly as he could. “Agape Frankenstein, my first and only…” he paused, thinking for a moment, then smiled contentedly, “son. My first and only son.” Agape didn’t know how to react at first - he was overwhelmed with so many emotions; relief, hope, joy. The most he could do was wrap his arms around his creator - his father - and finally take in what it really meant to be loved.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes : Reloaded

They're on a mission, chasing a lead in hopes of locating where The Shadow Company is situated.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Vlad the Janitor

Chapter 20 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

forgive the piccrew

Undying Admiration

Francine "France" Winters

Safe house 110197, Brazil

"Look at them two, you think we could do that too?" Soap asked France. They were both seated on Soap's side of the floor, the soft foam caught their asses as they crossed their legs while Soap spun around a water bottle.

"You and me? Sing and Dance? Never in a million years!" She denied looking at the poor guy's attempt to actually get her to like him. She thinks he already knew that she's already falling for him since day one. But she wanted to focus on other things at hand rather than distract herself with romance. Maybe if this was all over and he's still there, he'll finally get the answer he's looking for.

"Why not? I'm kinda okay with singing." He grinned. Francine giggled. Sure he is, his overconfidence was getting attractive for her. If they weren't soldiers in a war, they'd probably be making out again. What happened back at the Gulag was an impulse, she never saw it coming as she almost lost hope for his absence.

"Why don't you like… sing for me?" She dared her eyes stared intensely into Soap's eye-catching baby blue orbs. She made a mental note that staring for more than five seconds in those were already dangerous, so she always breaks it before the fifth.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, his voice was giving her ears a good time. Yes. She's falling for him. It felt like everything he does is attractive, but she shouldn't be too quick, life has taught her that the faster she falls in love, the faster they leave. So she had to test the guy's patience.

"Do what?" she asked as if she didn't know what he meant.

"Look me in the eyes then immediately break it as soon as I stare long enough…" His eyes squinted towards her as she evaded eye contact.

"I don't do that." She easily shrugged it off and got up.

"Well, good night. John. We have an early mission tomorrow." She got up as Soap trailed his eyes on her, the look of admiration was painted all across his face.

"Can you not look at me like that?!" She pleaded as her cheeks blushed. Her boyish appeal on the force always repelled attention and now this guy was admiring her for who she is and she felt happy.

"I won't do it if I get a good night's kiss." he pouted his wonderful lips. Lips she actually really wanted to taste again.

"Good Night John." She said as she closed the men's bedroom door and went to her bed.

~

When Price told her about a small recon mission, she never knew it was this small. The team only consisted of her and Ghost riding a rental truck to a village which was a few kilometers away from their safe house. The point person was an alleged nephew of a soldier that currently works for Shepherd. It was almost a dead lead but the intel being accessible enough was sort of worth it.

Rule of engagement is "Don't".

The village would most likely be unarmed, unprotected and peaceful. But Price advised to keep a side arm in case things go awry. It was a good call, and France noted to herself that she won't ever fire a shot for this mission as to not raise any sort of attention in addition to what Shepherd already gave them.

"Looks like it's time to go." Soap muttered as Ghost passed through them looking prepared.

Soap nodded goodbye to the man but he just continued walking.

"Maybe he had earphones on." he muttered as he pouted his lips. France softly reached for his cheek and shoved it sideways.

"In your dreams." She laughed as she waved goodbye.

"Every night." He winked as France made an almost disgusted face and followed Ghost. She was lucky enough that she quickly moved that Soap won't see her blushing cheeks.

France hoisted herself on the shotgun of the car and smiled at her partner, who looked serious. Without his mask, he was your average tough british soldier, and he looked like he wasn't in for some small talk while driving. France respected his privacy and trailed her eyes elsewhere, looking at the lush greenery and muddy tracks of tropical Brazil.

France wasn't a fan of quiet road trips, she tried humming to tunes from her playlist as the loud revving of the rental jeep overpowered her voice.

"Are you usually this quiet?" France asked, trying to break the silence between them.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?" He replied, his eyes trailed on the road as it hit a bump. France actually felt shocked toward his reply and she started to worry about what she did wrong.

"You know you could always say no to Price's orders instead of regretting and wishing Roach would be here instead of me." She pouted, crossing her arms.

"Well that wasn't my case but now that you said it, maybe I should've asked for Roach instead!" He yelled. France couldn't help but shed a tear. She actually had no idea towards his hostility and the thought of not knowing any reason made her mad.

"Wow. Okay." she squirmed and unbuckled her seatbelt causing Ghost to slow down his driving.

"Where are you going? The village is still far from here!" he asked, France never bothered to talk to him as she simply walked away from the path.

Ghost immediately left the vehicle and followed her, catching her so she won't escape and run away.

"Why are you not replying?!" He asked, gripping her hands, restricting her movement. France used her strength to break free of his slightly weak grip and turned to him.

"You see now how it feels? To ignore someone without knowing why?!" She raised her voice. This seemed to make sense to Simon as he actually looked like he's sorry.

"I… " he sighed and looked at her, his eyes were lost and sad.

"I can't talk to you anymore… because I like you… but you've already set your eyes on someone else… so I just had to ignore you hoping that it'll make it less painful." he muttered. Complete silence filled the air.

France didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. It may be true that she already had eyes on a certain Scottish cutie, but telling him the truth all over again would leave such mental scars.

It took her long enough to say something that Ghost already invited her back to the car, and her silence may leave no meaning, but to Ghost it meant a lot, at least he knew that he no longer had a chance on her and would finally move on.

The village was like any other typical village, the elder's house would always be on the highest point and the two opted to ask the village elder first to gather clues.

One clue led to another as they visited each house looking for one Fabian Alvarez, a nephew of an alleged Shadow Company soldier. Only a few were able to speak fluent english and they decided to help, until such time that Fabian decided to show up.

He looked like a five year old kid, holding a rubber ball and he looked at France and Ghost awkwardly before hiding back into his house. Fabian was far too young to know about his uncle's whereabouts and the lead went cold once again.

The ride home was quiet. France didn't want to say anything as she can't. Her heart was like inside a washing machine, swirling around as she thought of how Ghost liked her while she's clearly liking someone else. It must've been hella awkward and painful to see on a daily basis. She felt that once, when her best friend got together with her high school crush and continued to stay together up to this day… She knew how he felt.

~

The moment they got back, she was actually greeted by Soap, who already had his hands wide open for a hug. As usual, France would ignore his gesture and it now felt that she was already helping out Ghost from the pain. But now, she's the one feeling restricted.

It pained her to not get near Soap and he's already starting to notice the indifference. She was actually surprised when he cornered her, just as soon as she stepped out of the shower.

Her cheeks flushed as the idea of her, only wrapped with a towel, stood in front of Soap. She felt really vulnerable in this position.

"What happened out there?" he looked angry but the tone of his voice sounded concerned.

"Nothing, it's just … A dead lead. A waste of time." She replied as she attempted to cross over him.

"And how does that warrant an indifferent approach toward me?" he quickly moved to block her again. She sighed at her actions. He was right. He didn't deserve this treatment, he needed to learn something about the truth.

"We had a little fight with your friend over there…" She muttered, her voice was low enough so he couldn't hear.

"Who, Ghost?" he inched his face closer and his face lit up like a curious bystander who overhears conversations on a daily basis.

"Yeah… It was an unpleasant exchange." She said vaguely.

"Well, it'll all be resolved soon. I guess you're too carried away that you didn't want to talk to me as well…" he chuckled and scratched the back of his head. That gesture always made France happy, he may not notice it but she loves the way his muscles twitch when he scratches his nape. She found it satisfying and hot.

"Yeah… I'll go change." She said, as she frowned as soon as they parted. She knew she had to tell him the specific reason and the events that occured today, but she felt that it would create a domino effect that would lead the team to be uncooperative.

During bedtime, Alex requested France to swap sleeping spaces, meaning that she had to lie down beside Soap. She couldn't find the courage to say no as it might ruin the reunion they both longed for after a very long time.

France swung the door open and found out that they were already asleep, except for Ghost who was once again missing. She used this opportunity to actually wake Soap up and let him be aware that she'll be sleeping beside him. She planned to make both men comfortable by spacing herself between them, by only showing affection to Soap while Ghost's not around, until such time that Ghost would accept the inevitable truth.

"John." She whispered, as Soap lazily opened his eyes and reached out for her, wrapping her in his arms.

"I really like you. A lot. I hope you'll be patient enough for me." She whispered again. She knew he wouldn't hear it but the idea of her actually expressing her thoughts to him, put her at ease, as she slowly closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, wrapped by the arms of the man whom she really admired.

Next Chapter : If I Remember Correctly

Notification Squad my Beloved

@ricinbach @whimsywispsblog @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @beemybee

[paramedictk-archive]

it’s hard to put into words how much skam france has disappointed me this year but s6 is finally over and i felt like i needed to kind of... say goodbye to this shitshow and get a few things off my chest.

s3 will always hold a special place in my heart, it came into my life when i really needed it and honestly, it was their only genuinely good season from start to finish. i will always be grateful for s3 and for eliott and lucas and for all those little moments we got to see with the grew in that season as well as in s4 and s5, when they actually acted like teenagers, when they were there for each other, when actions had consequences, when subplots weren’t abandoned just after 2 clips and when they used this show to educate teenagers and give them hope... those very few moments that actually made me feel like i was watching a skam remake.

it’s hard to make peace with the fact that this remake gave us so many good moments but also managed to completely ruin this entire experience for most of us this year. i think if skam france was genuinely, consistently trash from s1 to s6 i wouldn’t be half as angry as i am right now. but truth is, it wasn’t all bad. that’s the worst thing. we’ve seen they can do better, they just chose to be lazy and use the popularity s3 gave them to churn out mediocre and half assed plots time and time again because they knew they had devoted fans who would defend them no matter what.

when s3 was airing i actually felt like they listened to us sometimes and cared about us but something changed after s4. it no longer mattered what we wanted to see or what we thought about a scene, we were simply told what we should be feeling. and that’s a huge red flag. i don’t have to be a scriptwriter or a director to know that good storytelling isn’t about throwing excuses and explanations (and then damage control pictures) at your audience. it’s about them engaging with the content you put out and bringing their own perspective to it. otherwise, what’s the point?

and you know, this isn’t even about what’s ooc and what isn’t. it’s about the people who were supposed to finally get their representation but instead ended up being too triggered by the show to continue watching it. it’s about muslim, deaf/hoh people, people dealing with addictions or self harm or eating disorders speaking out only to be silenced by david and his fans just because their opinions weren’t always supportive and positive. it’s about us saying that they should have never used sexual or domestic abuse for shock value and then being told to shut up because a few pacifists in this fandom seem to think we’re ruining the show for them this way. it’s about david and niels flat out lying to us and promising so many things in order to get us to watch s6. it’s about being disrespected by the creators of your favourite tv show so badly that you end up having to distance yourself from it and the fandom. you obviously can’t please everyone, but the least you can do is listen to the people whose stories you’re trying to tell.

i obviously can’t tell any of this to david even though i wish i could. not because i want to rub it in or prove that i’m right, i just simply want him to know how much his childishness hurt the very people who once fought so hard to get his show renewed for him. i can’t tell him any of this because he would never read my messages since i’m not one of his certified bootlickers singing his praises all the time. because he blocked one of my insta accounts last week for a comment i posted under one of his pictures during s5. because that’s the kind of person he is. someone who would rather hide and ignore constructive criticism and let his little fans fight his battles for him. someone who stayed quiet for weeks while said fans kept sending death threats to people. and yes, you could say he’s not responsible for other people’s actions and that’s true in a way. but when you create such an unhealthy and hostile environment within your own fandom by playing favourites and silencing anyone who has a different opinion than what is considered acceptable, you do encourage that kind of behaviour.

despite all this, i still stayed and tried to put up with all the bad writing because i cared about the grew that much, maybe even more than niels himself, it seems. i don’t have a reason to stay now. the concept of having female showrunners sounds good, sure, but i know francestvslash and i know skam france. it’s the good old bait-and-switch. during the last two seasons, they kept baiting marginalized communities to earn woke points but a season that was supposed to be about arthur’s deafness entirely got turned into some cheating fest and lola’s season was pure misery porn with wlw rep thrown in there as bait. 

david and niels leaving won’t solve this problem. francetvslash needs a reality check too. they used us to renew the show and then turned around and called us obsessive. they blocked my comments under the live because i asked them why wasn’t the sexual assault plot mentioned again. they joked about addictions. they don’t care, okay? not about us, not about giving people representation. the only thing they care about is money. so them suddenly hiring female directors and writers after they saw us complaining about the way this show treats women? bait. the same kind of bait niels and david used when they tried to throw all kinds of rep in s6 because they knew lgbt people want to see themselves represented so badly that they would watch it no matter what. i would love to be proven wrong, obviously. i want to believe the new showrunners have nothing but good intentions but their hands will obviously be tied by francetvslash to some extent. and i’m done being used by them and then being forced to settle for the bare minimum.

all in all, both s5 and s6 fell flat and were extremely disappointing. skamfr under david and niels will always remain a one hit wonder, nothing else. it’s a good thing they are leaving now because at least characters like max or sekou have the chance to be treated with respect by the new writers and directors. and i’m happy for all of you who decided to stay... i wish you guys the best. i honestly hope you guys will get the stories and the representation you’re looking for. i really do. i want to be proven wrong about francetvslash and the showrunners... but i don’t have the energy to dedicate so much of my life to this show again, not after them breaking my heart so many times. 

and i guess i’m a petty person. the grew deserved great stories too, not just lamif. arthur deserved a great season, deaf/hoh people deserved to see themselves represented, instead they were forced to watch niels disrespect noée and camille and then act like they never existed in s6. and after everything wlw have done for this show, we deserved a great season too, not to be baited like this. maya was in 18 clips out of 83 (!!!!). if niels and david didn’t want to give the grew a chance to have a good send-off, then i’m not giving this show a chance again. why would i?

anyway. i’ll stick to rewatching s3 every now and again. and i will miss the way the grew made me feel. thanks for all the good memories and let’s hope we’ll forget the bad ones soon. this is what we’ve come to.

alt er love and all that crap i guess.

[creation-is-chaos]

Rules Of The Trade

The mun is ash. 29 years old. 21+ muse. she/her 13+ exp. I’m not writing with anyone under 21 years of age. No exceptions. End of story.

This blog is highly selective for my sanity and private for my personal comfort. At times activity will be high and at others it may be low. It all depends where my muse is and I have other blogs so I could be there instead. As such I am mutual exclusive only.

Mutuals Only means just that. If I post any interactions it’s for my mutuals. I’m private so my dms are set to reflect this. DO NOT bypass my mutual exclusive privacy rule by trying to dm me in my inbox. It will be ignored and deleted. If I follow you back you won’t have this problem. Otherwise do not attention seek.

21 + content and dark topics will be consistent here. If you’re not comfortable with super traumatic themes and extremely dark content my best advice is to not follow the blog. There is a TW page which is always changing, adding new triggering topics that have appeared in threads here. 

NSFW threads are always under read more permitting tumblr is working of course. You never know. But it is always tagged and anything smut related is with Corvus’ ships only AND with muns 21+ only. Please do not lie about your age. People have tried but they simply get hard blocked. Use common sense.

TW: This blog will contain story elements featuring highly triggering content including but not limited to: smut, violence, murder, death, mental manipulation, yandere, themes of a dark & troubling nature. This character is problematic in various ways. He is charming and pleasant on the surface but underneath his demons push unsavory motives. There are ties to the occult and cult mentality surrounding his story. Please proceed with caution if entering this blog and seeking to interact. Everything will be tagged.

NO GOD-MODDING: You should not control my character under any circumstances. It would take the fun out of writing and we know what our characters will and will not do. Do not force anything on him: loss of limb, killing him etc. Keep in mind he will retaliate. He is not nice and he does not let people attack him without consequences. Do not be rude to him or he will think lowly of you. He has a weird thing about rudeness tbh and disrespect gets your muse an unpleasant interaction. Just remember if you provoke him there will be consequences. 

I write with RP blogs only. No personals please. Even if you were a personal and change it into an RP blog I’m sorry. I will also not follow dash only for personal preference. I am OC friendly and female muse supportive. Duplicates are also welcome (this goes for characters and faces for characters, I have no weird thing about that).

If you want to drop a thread it’s cool. We can always plot something new. When I need to go through things I make update posts and try to @ those I’m keeping threads with. My inbox is also purged a lot as it fills up and I get overwhelmed.

Reblog any and all memes from their sources. If you reblog one from me at least drop one off the prompt into my inbox. I do not want my blog to be a source blog. It’s not for that. Reblog karma is a thing and yes I practice it. Aesthetics, headcanons etc that involve YOUR MUSE are allowed be reblogged. Otherwise do not reblog any of Corvus’ regular headcanons. Do not reblog any of my rp threads unless you are involved in them. Personals get an automatic block no explanation if they reblog anything.

This blog is mulitship and that means it is also mulitverse. Nothing intersects unless I plot a thing with multiple muns and we’re all doing a plot together. Corvus is selective on who he finds romantic interest in. He can be pretty difficult. The ships he has currently have been plotted/ongoing/developed for a while. He is bisexual and therefore interested in both women and men. May turn down ships for any reason. Please do not take it personally. He is just not an easy conquest and will ignore/dimiss thirst anons.

I ask you to use your blacklist for all trigger tags and blogs you do not wish to see here. I will not follow anyone who suicide baits, tells others who and not to interact with, makes elitist statements about their muses being better than others or gatekeeps. If I do not follow you do not try to persuade me to. I will also unfollow anyone who does any of the aforementioned. My dash is my own. It’s my comfort. If you do not wish to see its content unfollow me. Softblock me to do so. I do the same.

Last but not least anon hate to hit the road. If I see it in the inbox it just gets deleted. We don’t give voice to attention seekers hiding behind anon here. And if I see my friends getting it, find out you sent it you are straight up blocked. We don’t tolerate hate around here. 

MUN DOES NOT EQUAL MUSE. I do not condone any dark topics here irl. MUN DOES NOT EQUAL MUSE.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

TW: Stalking behaviors. 

As she walked from the train station to her apartment, Lucy didn’t know if it was just her nerves getting the best of her or a real danger right around the corner. Those creepy feelings that send tingling sensations along your spine or the hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention was a constant reminder that she was the lead actress in a horror movie. Every time Lucy was alone in public, her senses went on alert like prey being stalked by a predator, and she had every right to be cautious with Touka still loose on the streets.

Touka’s arrest after the movie theater incident did nothing to deter the woman from making the couple’s lives miserable. In fact, it only escalated her determination to win Natsu and get Lucy out of her way. For three month’s she’s stalked them through social media. They would block her, and she’d simply open a new account. They made their pages private, but she’d find ways to send messages. Lucy was starting to wonder if the woman was hacking into their pages.

‘You can’t get away from me Natsu...’

‘I won’t let you have him you bitch!’

‘The authorities can’t stop me...’

‘I love you more than she ever will! Please Natsu! How could you be so cruel?!’

‘Watch your back you whore!’

‘I’ll do anything you want Natsu! I worship you! Please! I’ll be the perfect woman just for you!’

Lucy bore the brunt of the harassment, being called every derogatory name under the sun, while Natsu’s were a mix of anger and pleadings to be her boyfriend. Touka was coming unhinged and desperate people could lead to desperate decisions. A woman who started off seemingly so sweet and nice had turned into a demon. Frankly, it baffled Lucy how anyone could present two opposing faces so easily, but obsession was a strong motivator. Counselors at school told them that for stalkers it’s all about control and once them feel they’ve lost it, that’s when they start to lash out. ‘Well, duh,’ Lucy rolled her eyes at that one. Tell them something they hadn’t figured out on their own.

Sometimes they thought they caught glimpses of Touka while out around town, watching them from around street corners or shop windows, blend into cafes or around shelves in stores. It was hard to confirm because when they did a double-take, the woman would disappear. The woman was also legally trespassed by Natsu’s workplace, Lucy’s school dorm, the movie theater, and the bar Cana works at. Plus, the theater attack got them restraining orders against Touka, which meant she couldn’t come within 100 yards of the couple. So far, her harassment consisted of internet messages and she’d abided by the distance order, but really, what would a piece of paper do if Touka chose to finally ignore it?

“You okay?” Natsu questions his girlfriend, “you went silent.”

“Oh, sorry, y-yeah I’m okay, just drifting into thoughts again.”

They were lucky to have a great support system. All of their friends pitched in to take turns, making sure Lucy was rarely ever alone in public. Someone would walk her to and from school. If she needed to go out, one of them would volunteer whenever Natsu couldn’t. She stayed in areas that had a lot of people, so she’d be less likely to be approached. But when no one was available, he would stay on the phone with her like now. Lucy appreciated it all, because at least she had a voice to comfort her.

“Oh, alright. How much longer till you get to the dorms?”

“Maybe 15 minutes.”

But the messages that sent the worst chills through Lucy, were the ones detailing what she was doing or where she was at when the messages were sent. It was confirmation that Touka was truly stalking every move they made, and the couple couldn’t go out in public without the fear of being confronted again. The authorities weren’t any help either and unfortunately her messages through social media were not considered a violation under current anti-stalker laws. Harassment was also difficult to prove because the woman never used her real name which left open the possibility it was some other person harassing them.

According to Levy’s boyfriend Gajeel, the police’s hands were tied unless Touka slipped up and made a direct threat to harm them. But so far, the woman had been cunning enough to stay anonymous. This was exactly why current laws did nothing to curb people from engaging in such behaviors. The counselor warned them that the only way to stop a stalker is intensive psychological treatment. But to get to that point required voluntary treatment or a court order, hence the couple’s frustrations with the system.

“Whatcha, thinking about?” Natsu breaks the silence again.

“Just the stuff Gajeel was explaining,” she sighs back. “It’s all so stupid, like they don’t even care.” Aside from Levy’s boyfriend, Lucy got the distinct impression that the cops didn’t take stalking very seriously.

“I’m so sorry this is happening Lucy. We both graduate in just six more months, maybe we could move to the other side of Japan?” She could hear it in Natsu’s voice how useless he felt under these circumstances.

“Or another country,” she mumbled back. At this point she wanted to get as far away as possible. They’d done everything they could think of, notifying their schools and the security at their homes of the potential threat. But as long as Touka was free to run the streets, short of packing up and moving far away which was out of the question because of school, there wasn’t anything else they could do except stay vigilant.

“If that’s what would make you happy Lucy, I’ll find a way to make it happen. I got a cousin that lives in the US, maybe he can get us jobs.”

Lucy thinks for a moment, “I don’t think you’ve mentioned this cousin before, what’s he doing there?”

“Sting went for college then ended up staying after graduation cause he met a guy. I think they’ve been together now for 5 years, so it must be working out,” Natsu chuckles.

His comment pulls a giggle from Lucy, “I wouldn’t mind trying out the US. We could think of it as an adventure before settling down.”

“Settling... down? As in, getting married?”

“W-What?! N-No, I mean, maybe, I mean it’s possible...” She hears the laughter on the other end and that stops her rambling.

“Hey, I was just clarifying,” Natsu’s chuckles soften. “I agree, whatever happens, it would definitely be a fun adventure.”

Her cheeks flushed by the new images floating through her mind and a silly smile now screwed onto her face. Lucy was certain that between them, they could do well, find jobs, and lead a comfortable life wherever they chose to go. Maybe a change of scenery would do them well. Certainly, her stress level would thank her for it.

“Do you really think… that would work? That we could pull it off because...” Lucy’s voice cuts off abruptly mid-sentence, followed by the sounds of a scuffle, like the phone being jiggled around.

“Lucy?!” He called out with no reply. “Lucy?! Answer me!”

A sudden scream from Lucy’s end, runs his blood cold, and he hears a familiar voice just before the line cuts off permanently. It was muffled, but clearly— “Touka?!”

[hqbbg]

happy birthday.

pairing: tendou x reader

summary: you share a birthday with your best friend.

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7K

warnings: none

author’s note: I found out last week that I have the same birthday as tendou, so this story is kind of a self-indulgent one shot, hehe

Every birthday you could ever remember when growing up was spent with him. Considering the fact that your families were close and you two happened to share the same birthday, it seemed sensical to just throw joint birthday parties. You didn’t really mind sharing your special day, but it wasn’t like your parents had given you much of an option back then.

Things had changed as the two of you grew up and over time, the forced friendship between yourself and Tendou Satori had blossomed into a genuine one. You still spent your birthdays together, but it was mostly just hanging out before parting ways to have dinner with your respective families. He became the most consistent person in your life outside of your direct family and you didn’t mind. Given, he was a little weird to you when you were little, but you’d gotten used to it over time.

You still remember the time you two had been in the neighborhood playground with some other kids. Tendou was acting a little strange as he sat alone near the swing set, and you presumed it was because he was getting bullied again. When you walked up and asked him what was wrong, he simply looked at you and told you he wanted to start playing volleyball. It’s a memory you revisit every so often when you go to watch his games, a little part of you feeling nostalgic every time.

Even now, as you sit in the front row of the stands of another volleyball tournament, cheering your school on, you can’t help the smile on your face. Tendou made it a point to locate you before the game started and would look in your direction to strike a pose whenever he scored a point or performed a successful block. It makes your heart flutter every time and the smile on your face never falters.

You’re both in your last year of high school now. You know that your paths will split after the year ends, meaning that this could be your last birthday spent together—at least for a while, that is. You weren’t sure when exactly it clicked for you, but you had developed romantic feelings for the boy and knew that your time remaining with him was limited.

Maybe it was the time he had comforted you when you had hit one of the lowest points in your life, patting your head and rubbing your back as you cried while hugging him when everything was just too much for you to handle. Or maybe it was the time he had stopped by your dorm with snacks during exam season to make sure you were eating something between your study sessions. It could’ve been a moment as mundane as just the two of you hanging out on a weekend, not doing anything in particular when he didn’t have a practice match. Regardless of which moment it was that had made you realize your feelings for the boy, all you know now is that your time is running out with him.

You revert your attention back to the game playing in front of you and notice that Tendou is on the sidelines, singing and dancing in his own little world. You find it endearing, although others might find it strange. He stops and lets out a visible sigh, lifting his head and finding you in the stands. He grins and waves for the nth time today and you can only wave back, smiling. His mouth starts moving and he’s making gestures with his hands, but you can’t read his lips and the noise of the students around you makes it impossible to even hear your own thoughts.

He points to the scoreboard and you look over, seeing that the match is almost over with your school’s team winning as per usual. You look back at him and he points at his wrist before pointing at himself. You realize he’s telling you to wait for him. You hold a thumbs up and he grins before turning back to the game.

When the game ends in straight sets for Shiratorizawa, the crowd cheers loudly. The team does their usual routine and lines up in front of the crowd, thanking them for their attendance. You’ve come to enough games to know where to sit so that you’re directly in front of your best friend and grin widely as he celebrates another victory with his team.

The crowd starts to file out of the stands, and you follow suit, making your way to the main entrance. You wait by yourself near the door, watching as other schools’ teams and fans walk by, getting ready to go home. The bus designated for students who came to watch the game pulls up outside and you know you have to go soon, or else you’ll be left behind.

Right on cue, someone taps your shoulder and you begin to turn around.

“Boo!”

As often as it happens, you’re still startled when the familiar redhead gets in your face. He laughs as he straightens himself up, ignoring the light hit you land on his arm.

“Sorry to make you wait long,” he says, readjusting his bag onto his shoulder. “Wakatoshi took some extra time in the bathroom today.”

You look behind the tall boy and notice Ushijima standing a few steps away, frowning at the boy.

“I did not.”

You giggle as Tendou waves him off.

“Let’s get ice cream later! You know, to celebrate!” Tendou smiles cheekily.

“You couldn’t just text me this?” You raise a brow, crossing your arms across your chest, although your lips are tilted up in the slightest smirk.

“I could’ve,” he replies, nodding his head. “But I wanted to see my number one fan!”

“Who said I was your number one fan?” You scoff, but you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“I did,” Tendou replies confidently. “It’s only you by default because Wakatoshi doesn’t count.”

“I’m not your fan,” Ushijima replies with a straight face again.

“I know, that’s what I said, Miracle Boy!” Tendou grins as he looks at his other best friend. “Teammates don’t count.”

Ushijima says nothing more as Tendou turns back to look at you.

“Anyways, you better catch the bus or else you’ll be left behind! I’ll text you when we get back!”

You nod and wave with a smile as Tendou ushers Ushijima back to wherever the rest of the team is while you hurriedly rush outside just in time to board the bus heading back for school.

It takes a couple hours before you receive a text from Tendou. When you do, you’re excited and wait patiently. A few minutes later, there’s a knock on your door and you open it to see Tendou in his casualwear, looking down at you with a cheeky grin.

“Since I won today, your treat, right?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” you reply as you leave your room, closing the door behind you.

“Come on, my birthday’s next week! Consider it an early birthday gift.”

“Tendou, we share the same birthday,” you dryly reply.

“You can still get me a present,” he grins.

“Then what are you getting me for my birthday?” You ask, nudging his side with your elbow. He raises his arms and folds them behind his head, looking out in front of himself thoughtfully.

“Hm, what should I get you?”

You tap your chin thoughtfully as the two of you make your way down to the vending machines.

“Do you have a budget?” You ask, looking up at him. His eyes flicker down to look over at you.

“It has to be cheaper than this week’s issue of ‘Jump!’ because I promised Wakatoshi I’d get him a new copy so he could read the ads.”

You never understood that boy’s hobby of reading advertisements over the actual content of the magazine.

“I don’t need anything, I guess.”

“Really? Nothing?” Tendou bends his body and takes a few large steps so he’s slightly in front of you, eyeing you skeptically. You nod with a simple smile on your face.

It’s true; you’re happy as long as you get to spend time with him. After all, you won’t be able to have this kind of time together once you graduate high school.

“You know, you’ve been acting strange lately,” he says, leaning back and resuming his position next to you.

“What do you mean?”

Tendou was pretty observant and could read you like an open book, so part of you wasn’t surprised that he sensed something was off.

“I dunno, you tell me,” he replies nonchalantly. You two arrive in front of the vending machines and you’re hesitant to be honest but know he would be able to see through a lie.

“I guess it just sort of hit me that this is probably the last year we spend our birthdays together,” you say. You busy yourself by inserting your coins into the machine, pressing the buttons for Tendou’s favorite ice cream.

“Why would it be our last?” Tendou blinks his eyes innocently at you, watching as you reach to grab the ice cream from the slot.

“Well, I’m planning on heading to college and you’ll probably go on to play volleyball or something, so we won’t have a lot of opportunities to see each other.”

“Ah,” Tendou nods his head as you hand him the ice cream. “I’m thinking about quitting volleyball after high school.”

You stop your movements, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you look at him. This was news to you, but he seemed unfazed, his face indifferent with his lips still curved up into the slight smile they were always in.

“Why?”

Tendou shrugs and you resume what you were doing, putting more coins into the vending machine to get your own ice cream.

“I just need a change of scenery, I guess,” Tendou replies as he opens his ice cream. “But that’s good news for you!”

“I mean, I guess,” your voice falters as you grab your ice cream and straighten up.

“We can spend as many birthdays together as you want,” he grins as he pats your head. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

[freedom-in-the-dark]

James Flint Is Gay: A Meta Post

[slides into the Black Sails fandom late with Starbucks]

Hey! What’s up! Here’s a post no one asked for but I wrote mostly for me. Before we get into it, I’ve got some big notices to put on the top here.

DISCLAIMER: If you interpret James as bi, and you prefer that, I am not trying to say you can’t do that or to convince you otherwise! 

You do you! If you’re not cool with seeing him as gay, please do us both a favor and keep scrolling past this post! I’m mildly aware that this fandom has a history of rough discourse surrounding this topic, but I cannot emphasize enough that I am new here, and this post is not an attack. Please do me the courtesy of not attacking me or blocking me or whatnot because I’m not trying to start drama lol. And for what it’s worth, I myself am bi (well, bi ace), so I’d like to think I’m being objective.

This post exists simply because I like to write meta out with my arguments / evidence lined up in a row; it gets things out of my head and onto a screen, and I find it satisfying. And if I’m doing it anyway, I might as well share.

So if you see James as gay, or have an open mind to that interpretation… please allow me to take you on this adventure under the cut. I’m sure it’s obvious, but this contains spoilers? Lol.

Here we go!

Compulsory Heterosexuality vs “Bi Erasure”

Firstly… to address some stuff I’ve seen in my limited Black Sails fandom travels right out of the gate: I’ve seen people imply that interpreting James as gay is “bi erasure,” or they ask “Why are you erasing that James was attracted to Miranda and had an affair with her?”

But to that I say: it’s far more complicated than that.

Gay people can have sexual relationships with people of the opposite sex, especially until / or before they identify as gay. This is how so many gay people can be married to the opposite sex and have biological kids, and then later realize their truth and come out to themselves and their families. Having those experiences or even some variation of actionable attraction to people of other sexes in the past doesn’t negate their ability to later identify as gay, once they stop burying those parts of themselves and/or experience something that “brings that part of them into the light.”

This is why the phrase compulsory heterosexuality exists. The phrase was originally coined by Adrienne Rich in a 1980 essay titled “Compulsory Heterosexuality and the Lesbian Experience.” So yes, let me make this clear: this term originated in reference to lesbians and feminist theory, and then the idea was later expanded upon to include discussions of gay men by other academics in the early 2000s. I’m not gonna dive too deeply into it here, but in essence–as the name implies–this is the idea that patriarchal and heteronormative societies are viewed as the default, so individuals are assumed (by themselves and otherwise) to be heterosexual until “proven” otherwise. Through these standards that are seen as “normal,” people are also taught from a young age–whether explicitly or subconsciously through society–that anything that deviates from those ~straight norms~ leads to negative consequences. And so, society encourages people to avoid sexual exploration, because having experiences with someone of the same sex is what can often bring their gay identity into focus.

In the case of Black Sails, this is all very much emphasized at the forefront because it’s a historical drama. Aside from racism/slavery, patriarchy and heteronormativity are what the characters are actively going to war against.

So, the point in me defining all of this? No one—or at least, not me—is saying that James didn’t have a sexual relationship with Miranda. That’s not in question. But that doesn’t necessarily make him bi, and it doesn’t mean the narrative isn’t structured in various ways that indicate otherwise.

Just keep this in the back of your brain, because I’m going to circle back around to it.

Anne, Flint, & Gay Rage

In the wise words of an old pirate captain: “Fruit, fruit. Tits, tits.” This show thrives on parallels, and gives us lines / scenes that apply to more than one character; it’s partially why the themes are so consistent, and if you ignore that, you can miss a lot of the nuance. Our resident angry gay gingers are one of the paralleled sets of characters.

This is not a meta about Anne… but talking about parts of Anne’s story can help to highlight some things about James’ story.

I tweeted this once: “Flint and Anne’s sexualities paralleled to show struggles with compulsive heterosexuality, fighting for the sake of fighting, bringing parts of themselves into the light, wrestling with being told they’re monsters and their distorted senses of self, etc.” and really, now I’m just here to elaborate.

-----

The word “monster” is a recurring theme in this show. It’s tied mostly to Flint and how he is told he is monstrous for loving a man, fears being “the villain” or “monster” in everyone’s stories, and eventually embraces that monstrous portrayal in service of his goals–even as the violence is slowly devastating to him. But the other character the word “monster” is used in reference to? Anne.

A quote by Max:

“Idelle, how would you feel if the one man you thought would never betray you did? If he purchased for himself a future through that betrayal? If you were told by a world full of men that that betrayal confirmed for them that they were right to see you as a monster to be shunned? She's not mad. She is adrift.”

In some ways, this quote is also the story of what has happened to James in his life, over and over. (Not to say this is what Jack intended to do to Anne, but the parallels inherent in Max’s line itself cannot be denied.) 

James is repeatedly betrayed by those he trusts: Admiral Hennessey; Peter Ashe; Hal Gates. All of them try to get him to conform to heteronormative society–including Gates, because even if he didn’t know it, that’s what he was doing by trying to get James to take a pardon. That’s why James reacts with such instinctual panic and kills him; the idea of being forced to apologize to and assimilate back into heteronormative society puts him at a breaking point. (It can even be argued that Miranda “betrays” James in this way too by trying to get him to take a pardon and go to Boston–which is where his “and they called me a monster” speech comes in–and that also contributed to how James later panics and kills Gates for trying to force him to do the same. Miranda tried in a well-meaning way to get James to move on, because she isn’t fully understanding what James wrestles with; but I’ll go back to that.)

Again, these parallels are deliberate. Anne and Flint are the two main gay characters who wrestle with their supposed “monstrosity” in the eyes of everyone else, because they don’t fit in. They are “othered.” It’s not simply about their violence; for these characters, it’s about what their violence is in service of achieving, which is tied to their sexuality.

Anne is seen as a “monster” for slaughtering the men who abused Max, who is not only a fellow woman but also a fellow lesbian, in a way that Anne is undeniably drawn to even before she lets herself acknowledge the feeling. We as viewers are meant to see this and understand this, and we do. Anne is ostracized for violence that was motivated by her sexuality, which is partially why Max tells her that she understands her violence and will protect her–because Max is not only also a woman in a patriarchal society, but she is gay too.

Flint is seen as a “monster” first and foremost by England, for his sexuality… and then, later, by everyone else for the actions he takes because of his sexuality. Again: the violence he commits cannot be divorced from his sexuality because it is the reason for it. It’s what informs it.

I tweeted about this once too, but in many ways Anne and Flint’s kindred displays of brutality and anger and “fighting for the sake of fighting” (a quote by Miranda which applies to them both) are informed by their desire/need for gay tenderness. The world has too often denied them that tenderness and their expressions of their sexualities, or demonized them for wanting it, and their violence is the result. 

Here’s a quote from Deborah Tolman with regards to how compulsory heterosexuality affects men, which she calls “hegemonic masculinity”:

"These norms demand that men deny most emotions, save for anger; be hard at all times and in all ways; engage in objectification of women and sex itself; and participate in the continuum of violence against women."

The anger and hardness is a huge part of the personas both Flint and Anne have to put on for survival. I include Anne in this because she uniquely lives her life in a “male” role to survive the male-dominated world of piracy, and she’s clearly not immune from these unspoken masculine guidelines: she refers to Max as “the whore” half the time as a defense mechanism. Flint and Anne lash out, they’re hard and angry and violent for the sake of their personas, and it’s all because... inside, they just want to be soft and gay with who they love.

Anne, Flint, & Compulsory Heterosexuality (Not Bi Erasure)

In Black Sails, we are shown the story of a gay person who has a consistent sexual relationship with someone of the opposite sex, but is running from internal truths about themselves in some ways in the process. That person is Anne.

Struggling with compulsory heterosexuality is explicitly Anne Bonny’s prime storyline in the show and that is not up for debate (and I’ve rarely seen people disagree); but I argue that it is also part of James’ storyline, and he is paralleled significantly with Anne to make that clear. It’s just overall more subtle because it’s not the prime focus of James’ story the way it is for Anne, because James’ realizations happened largely in the past and we’re seeing the aftermath of it. The parallels are there, and I’ll be breaking some of them down.

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From episode one, we are told that Anne has a sexual relationship with Jack…. But later on, she tells Jack that she “can’t be [his] wife,” even though they’ll be partners forever. Why? What changed? The answer is that she’s been with Max and realized that she’s gay. It doesn’t mean Anne didn’t have sex with a man in the past and even enjoy it on some level, but it does mean that she knows now that she was using that sex partially to distract from things about herself that she was doing her best to ignore.

Multiple lines by Max (to Anne) tell us this:

3x03: “When you and I began you did not choose me. Something that lives inside you beyond choice made it so.”

2x01: “But perhaps there is something else underlying it. Something hiding in a place not even you can see. Perhaps… we would do well to bring it into the light.”

Before I continue, let me remind you of something: when writers decide to show viewers something on screen, that is done with intent, especially in a show like Black Sails where not a single moment is wasted. Remember this. What they show us, and what they don’t show us, are both deliberate choices.

So what are we shown about Anne’s sexual relationship with Jack? We get exactly one scene of her having sex with him. We are shown Anne riding Jack in a way where neither party was particularly enthused. Does this mean they definitely never had sex in the past that they both enjoyed on some level? No. But they showed us this one scene on purpose: to emphasize the stark difference when Anne has enjoyable sex with Max, an experience that forever changes her.

So what are we shown about James’ sexual relationship with Miranda? We get exactly one scene of him having sex with her. It is the most depressing sex scene of all time, James is just lying there to try to be helpful for her to chase her own pleasure, and he doesn’t even touch her. Does this mean they never had sex in the past that they both enjoyed, especially back during their affair in London? No. But we are never shown any of that. We never see them have sex in London before James’ relationship with Thomas; we never see them having good sex with each other after it all goes to hell. And that is a deliberate choice.

Why? Because all of the above info about Anne and her compulsory heterosexuality journey also applies to James McGraw, and his relationships with Miranda and Thomas.

“They paint the world full of shadows... and then tell their children to stay close to the light. Their light. Their reasons, their judgments. Because in the darkness, there be dragons. But it isn't true. We can prove that it isn't true. In the dark, there is discovery, there is possibility, there is freedom in the dark once someone has illuminated it.”

The realizations James came to about his sexuality (just like Anne did) inform much of his tangled story with the Hamiltons, and much of the tragedy of Miranda and James’ situation after the loss of Thomas. We are shown the way James and Miranda are no longer perfectly aligned after that loss, and grief is undeniably a part of it… but it goes beyond that. It’s more complicated than that. 

That sad sex scene is not solely about grief; remember, that scene takes place ten years after they lose Thomas. It takes place during a time where Miranda is already thinking about and will soon actively try to tell James that they need to move on, without understanding why the loss of Thomas affects him in a profoundly different way than it affects her. I am not minimizing her loss or her grief whatsoever; but it is undeniably more complicated for James, and it’s why he can’t move on.

In episode 1x07:

James: “Have you no memory of how we got here? What they took from us?”

Miranda: “What does it matter now? What does it matter? What does it matter what happened then if we have no life now?”

James is, of course, appalled by this. I’ll talk about why momentarily.

The next time James is in Nassau (2x03), he goes to see Miranda and tries to apologize that night, but she’s otherwise engaged. So he stands outside of her window looking in, surrounded by darkness, while she’s playing the clavichord with children in the light. It is symbolically the domestic version of a heterosexual ideal. He is “othered” by the camera angles / framing, and the dark / light aspects. James is relegated to being an outsider literally because as Flint he’s a pirate, but metaphorically because he’s gay; the reason we as viewers are given that scene is to underscore that he feels he has no place in that display.

Ultimately, James is misaligned with Miranda after the loss of Thomas (shown in both the sad sex scene and arguments) in a way that goes beyond grief. The implication is that things cannot ever be the same for him again since the loss of “his truest love” and the truths he learned about himself.

If James and Miranda were simply at odds with one another because of grief, it would be far less of a “tragedy” in some ways. But James cannot heal the way Miranda slowly finds the way to over ten years, because Thomas signifies things for James that Miranda cannot relate to. In London, when Thomas is taken from them, Miranda even yells to James, “He is my husband!” Her grief and rage are shown as equal to James at the start and have extreme validity; the two of them are partners in the plan to kill Alfred Hamilton for revenge; but then she is able to somewhat move on, whereas James is not.

Why? Because, for James, Thomas was not just his (truest) love; Thomas was the awakening of his fullest self as a gay man.

In the same way that Anne can’t be Jack’s “wife” after she’s been with Max and realizes she’s gay, James cannot content himself with fulfilling the role of Miranda’s “husband” after he’s been with Thomas and realizes he’s gay. Neither of these facts minimize Anne’s love and devotion to Jack, or James’ love and devotion to Miranda; they are undeniably two sets of partners. But Anne and James are forever altered by their experiences with same sex lovers, and the truths about themselves that were brought into the light as a result.

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Another part of the tragedy of James and Miranda is what happens right when we see Miranda grasp the significance of all of the above. Whether or not she grasped it before in the past, we are shown it only once on screen, and that’s in Charlestown. 

Peter Ashe says this in 2x09:

“You will tell them about the affair with Thomas. You will tell them how it ended. You will explain to them what it drove you to do. You will reveal everything. And when you do, Captain Flint will be unmasked, the monster slain. And in his place will stand before all the world a flawed man, a man that England can relate to and offer its forgiveness.”

This is James’ worst nightmare; we know as such from what he told Miranda back in 1x07, and from when he killed Gates. And yet, here and now in 2x09, he is exhausted from pushing back against heteronormative society, all he wants is to retire the mantle of Flint born of gay rage, and he actually contemplates playing by their rules and giving into their judgements of his sexuality... until Miranda comes to his defense.

In season 1, Miranda didn’t seem to fully understand James’ thoughts on this, but here–in combination with her realizations about Peter Ashe’s betrayals–she finally does. And she’s not having it.

“What forgiveness are you entitled to while you stand back in the shadows pushing James out in front of the world to be laid bear for the sake of the truth? Tell me, sir, when does the truth about your sins come to light?”

And the moment she is yelling in rage on behalf of James, and their combined loss, and how Peter would dare to force James to experience shame about his sexuality again–she is instantly shot for it. A woman who’s yelling on behalf of a gay man? In a patriarchal heteronormative society? It has no place. England makes that clear.

It all further underlines James’ sense of “otherness”... and now he decides to embrace it, even at his own emotional detriment. He will no longer try to fit in or reason with them; he will no longer accept their halfway measures of pardons. He can’t, because in the eyes of England, all that he is as a gay man is abhorrent.

2x10: “Everyone is a monster to someone. Since you are so convinced that I am yours, I will be it.”

3x05, to the Maroon Queen: “...England takes whatever, whenever, however it wants. Lives. Loves. Labor. Spirits. Homes. It has taken them from me. I imagine that it has taken it from you.”

The Way James Views Miranda

And here is where I simply give you more food for thought–or further “evidence” of James being gay, if you will.

All of Flint’s lines about how he views Miranda are worded very, very deliberately.

Here’s a minor one, from 1x05:

“So you can probably guess it isn't as much fun to tell stories about how your captain makes a home with a nice Puritan woman who shares his love of books.”

There is nothing overtly romantic or sexual about this. It’s said in a one-on-one conversation with Billy, where Flint neither has to make the relationship sound like something it isn’t nor refuse to give any info whatsoever. So he goes with what is the seemingly-mild truth.

But 3x01, convincing the men to forego pardons:

“But what price surrender? To beg forgiveness from a thing that took my woman from me? My friend?”

“My woman” is what Flint says for the benefit of the men… these men who are part of the heteronormative world they all live in, and still value sexual relationships with women above all else. It’s about hegemonic masculinity, remember? (“Objectification of women and sex itself.”) He’s doing his best to speak their language. 

But “my friend” is a secondary line that was not needed for the purposes of this speech, but James could not keep himself from adding it in a quieter tone–because that’s who Miranda was to him. His friend. Not his woman, which drips sexism and sexual undertones. Not his wife. Not even his “love,” which he could’ve used if he wanted to be ambiguous and sneak a Thomas reference in; he said “my woman” to appeal to the men, and then he added “my friend” because in the face of her memory he couldn’t help it.

And lastly, in 3x03, we begin to hear from “ghost Miranda.” 

But what is ghost Miranda? She’s a voice from James’ traumatized mind. Everything she says to him is about truths he already knows and/or things he is hiding from himself. So what “she” says here is a voice from James’ mind; it’s about how James sees her, and subtly elaborates on his sexuality in the process.

“When I first met you, you were so... Unformed. And then I spoke and bade you cast aside your shame, and Captain Flint was born into the world... the part of you that always existed yet never were you willing to allow into the light of day. I was mistress to you when you needed love. I was wife to you when you needed understanding. But first and before all... I was mother. I have known you like no other. So I love you like no other. I will guide you through it, but at its end is where you must leave me. At its end is where you will find the peace that eludes you, and at its end lies the answer you refuse to see.”

This does not diminish Miranda’s importance to James in the least! In fact, it emphasizes it, and it is all part of why he is so ruined over her! But it is also, in the oddest way, an elaboration upon how he isn’t bi: Miranda was his partner in many things, including shared grief and revenge and some semblance of life for ten long years; and she was also was instrumental to his formation of himself as a person (“mother”), and his acceptance of himself as a gay man (“love” and “understanding”). This is how he sees her. Mistress and wife were roles she filled in his life, but above all, she contributed to the birth of Captain Flint–the personification of James’ gay rage.

Of course, the “answer” that ghost Miranda (the depths of James’ brain) alludes to here as well as her later words of “you are not alone” are all about James needing to recognize that Silver is a newfound partner and love for him… but that’s a whole other meta entirely.

Closing Thoughts

Look, did I consult a couple of specific scenes and look up transcripts to put quotes in this? Yes. But have I still only seen the show in its entirety once? Also yes. My point in mentioning this is that, if I did a full rewatch, there might even be more evidence I haven’t mentioned here. This isn’t meant to be comprehensive, but I do feel that it... certainly conveys the gist of the mood.

You may still agree to disagree if you prefer to see James Flint as bi; I’m not here to fight you on it and what queer characters mean to you personally. 

But for me, when surveying all available evidence, the narrative screams that he’s gay. In that sense, my thoughts on this matter are similar to my thoughts on the ending; sure, you can interpret it one way if you look at certain details, but if you take in all the evidence and the big picture as a whole… there’s a specific conclusion to be drawn.

Last thing I’ll say is this: Steinberg himself has said that Flint is gay, which I found out way after watching the show and forming this interpretation. And like... not that if I wanted to hardcore argue he was bi I wouldn’t disregard Steinberg’s words, because in my experience the narrative speaking for itself is always more important than than creators’ words, but... in this instance (as in all Black Sails instances I’ve come across), his words just underscore what the well-crafted narrative is already telling us, because the creators wrote this show with intent. They knew what they were doing.

And thus, I will quote him (from these GIFs) below.

“When we were trying to build the story, we wanted whatever this thing was that made [Flint] feel alienated to be so deeply tied into who he was that there was no way he was every going to dismiss this thing that happened to him. We wanted to make sure we understood what the reality was in England in terms of how homosexuality was perceived. In some ways it was more tolerated, in some ways it was significantly less tolerated. I think in terms of Flint being gay, it’s about the fact that it is a tool that is used politically when convenient to make somebody be a monster… and it isn’t even really about the relationship.”

(If you buy the series on iTunes, you get an “inside” look at every episode, including this one from 2x05.)

EDIT: I had no idea Toby Stephens basically confirmed my thoughts that James' relationship with Thomas was his actualization as a gay man, so excuse me as I lose my mind for a moment:

“I think his relationship to Thomas Hamilton, the initial friendship and then becoming lovers is sort of like the realization of himself. I think he became himself with Thomas Hamilton. His potential was unleashed with Hamilton.”

And just for fun, since I’m here anyway, here’s a piece of a Steinberg quote about Anne from the Fathoms Deep podcast.

“In terms of Rackham and Bonny, I think that was another thing that I assumed for a long time could never go away. That they were essentially, you know, that they were married. You know not legally, but they were functionally married. And then this story happened in Season 2 with Bonny, that I think with like with a gun to my head of things that I’m proud of with the show, probably at the top is this story of this woman coming out and understanding that she’s gay. . . And so when we got to a point where it was like, I think she’s gay? Like I don’t think this is something we want to be wishy-washy about. It required getting over that hump with Rackham of, ‘Well like what am I going to do with this relationship? I don’t want to split them up?’ And I think it became something way more interesting.”

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I love James Flint and his gay rage, I love you if you read all of this, and I love my friend @sunbardy who dealt with me yelling about this in DMs and then proofread the doc.

Hit me up on Twitter @gaypiracy if you want, where I do most of my Black Sails related yelling. And shitposting. Because I contain multitudes.

Know No Shame, my friends.