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the-evil-duckling · 3 years ago

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And now that Pride Month's over, Let's Talk About Pratchett.

The companies have taken down their flags. The marches and rallies are fading away. Rainbow colours are melting back into grayscale. And now that all the hubbub is dying down, let's talk about an author who did perhaps more than any other to introduce gender-and-sexual minorities to the public (and not just as a cute oddity to be cooed at from a distance, either).

Let's talk about an author whose works are perhaps the most representative, hard-hitting, and wholesome, in all of well-written English literature.

Let's talk about Pratchett.

Before we dive into the lovely little nitty-gritties, I want to just take a quick look at what Pratchett's writing really is, and what makes it so very exceptional. It's pretty simple, really.

He's funny.

That's the "secret" formula to Terry Pratchett's success across the global; he's funny everywhere, everywhen, across multiple generations and multiple decades and multiple geopolitical borders. You don't have to read Discworld with a lot of effort, thinking deeply after every line about the message the author is trying to convey. You don't have to analyze every character and every situation to see how the author is sculpting a crystal-clear mirror and holding it up to the face of Society. When I'm feeling down (cause college and life and pressure and dreams) and wanna start gouging out my forearms with my nails, I can just curl with one of my comfort books (like Men At Arms, or Unseen Academicals) and laugh and chuckle and just feel better. You can just enjoy it.

Now, I think, I can get to the fun stuff; analysing all of my favourite characters and the roles that they represent in mirroring Pratchett's view of People. (I should mention at this point that I am mainly going to be focussing on the Sam Vimes novels, and what I will be writing are my own thoughts and opinions. Anyone who knows more - or has just read/interpreted the books differently - is of course free to add their own musings.)

Fred Colon: Sergeant Colon is that rarest and yet most typical of things: Fred Colon is an ordinary person. He is no hero, or genius, or leader. He is not evil or even mildly malicious. And that is the very point that needs to be understood. People (most people) are not deliberately evil; they are, on the whole, fairly decent people who treat their friends well and try not to make enemies. It is just... petty selfishness, petty prejudices, petty apathy... all summated in every single member of the populace, and suddenly everyone knows that dwarfs are just money-grubbing bastards who'd bite your kneecaps off for a copper coin and trolls are dumber than the rocks they're made off but they'll as soon smash you to pulp as look at you and you can't trust a vampire cause they're too dead to be alive and-

Carrot Ironfoundersson: Captain Carrot is a cliché. Captain Carrot is a cliché wrapped inside a trope hidden in a Mary Sue, all turned on its head. Captain Carrot, rightful heir to the throne of Ankh, leader of all manner of beings, man who once beat Detritus in a fistfight... is not the hero of this story. In any other series, the story would have been of a brave new cop (who is also the king) standing up to the corruption and lawlessness of the Patrician while taking advice from his grizzled old half-drunk commander who dies four chapters into the first book with some vaguely portentous words that the hero remembers at the very last minute to give him the tools/strength/motivation necessary to keep fighting. But this is Pratchett. And the hero of the story, if there is one, is very much the grizzled old commander. Two other points have also always struck me about Carrot. The first is the matter of identity. Biologically, Carrot is very much a human, but in all other ways that matter he is entirely a dwarf - his name is Kzad-bhat, and even the deep-down dwarfs do not question his dwarfishness - and yet that does make him any less a human. In this is reflected the multiplicity of identity (not just of gender, which is what most people immediately jump to, but all identities). The second point is of the relationship between Carrot and Angua, which seemed to me a representation of a healthy dom/sub relationship. Unlike the twisted shit we find on ao3 (and in some published books that I don't feel that I need to name), Angua is at no point portrayed as lesser, weaker, incapable, dependent, or deferent. She is her own person, and the two of them just happen to have this kind of chemistry.

Samuel Vimes: Ahhhh. His Grace, His Excellency, The First Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch. The protagonist, if not quite the hero, of the series. He is not perfect, not even close. He is casually discriminatory (species-ist?) and thoughtless in most of what he says. his saving graces are that his discrimination is universally applied at all beings living and dead, and that he has never, not even once, allowed his personal feelings of prejudice stand in the way of justice (which is at times, all that separates him from Fred Colon). Does that mean that it's all okay, and everything is now fine and dandy and hunky-dory? No. Not even fucking close. Words matter and actions matter and even how you feel deep inside - all of it matters. Prejudice is prejudice, and it is always wrong. there are no mitigating circumstances, no 'yes, but...' that can make it acceptable. But only an idealistic idiot would say that it is not better than the alternative. And this is the reason that Vimes is one of my favourite protagonists; he is not a hero. He is real.

Leonard of Quirm: A parody of the public perception of a genius (perhaps of Roundworld's Tesla and da Vinci), I have loved Leonard as a character ever since I realised he was gay. Allow me to elaborate. As I was recently re-reading Jingo, I noticed a line that went something like 'He started drawing how The-Going-Under-The-water-Safely-Device could be improved, piloted by a muscular man who was not overdressed'. And just like that, a couple dozen other off-hand comments slotted into place and I realized the homosexual truth. And I love this portrayal of homosexuality, because most books or movies or tv shows or fanfictions with a gay MC (or even sidekick) tend to have a storyline roughly equivalent to 'hey my name is [insert name here] and I'm GAY and I have a destiny to save the world and my family and my GAY boyfriend whom I'm dating cause I'm GAY and before I go outside I have to pick my outfit really carefully better go with salmon-rose-flutter pink cause I'm GAY and now I'm outside and I'm not very popular and this is my tragic backstory cause a lot of people don't like me cause I'm GAY and-' Yeah. This is not good writing. By barely mentioning anything, Pratchett somehow still managed to emphasise that a) homosexuality is one of your identities, not all of them and b) just because a story has a character who is gay doesn't mean that the story becomes about a character being gay.

Trev Likely: One sentence. Just one sentence. 'Hating people was too much work.'

If you actually made it this far, you are obliged to reblog. I'm sorry, but I don't make the rules. (Please?)

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journey-to-the-attic · 3 years ago

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May I ask for IK headcanons with the new exchange students? (Thirteen, Rapheal, Mephistopheles)

You don't have to if you dont want to tho!

ohhhh my god i'm so glad you asked this because i've been having miscellaneous thoughts about them ever since i started s4

here we go! (though do be warned, some of their personality traits are like, extrapolated from what little we're given in canon, since there isn't a whole lot of it)

thirteen

i've said this before but girldad girldad GIRLDAD

she was probably nicer to ik right off the bat than she is to mc in canon, because 1. she's a child, 2. girl solidarity, and 3. she has no expectations for her so therefore everything is a pleasant surprise

at first it's more of a distant "yeah, we cool" thing, but then ik helps thirteen avoid getting into trouble with diavolo for a badly-timed trap, and after that thirteen decides that ik is her new best friend

she likes messing with her and acting like a menace in general, but internally she's always like "small friend-shaped girl!!! <33333"

(the way she interacts with her would be kinda similar to how jtta mephisto does)

thirteen's a very bad influence but also very fun, and ik clearly enjoys being around her, so lucifer's not sure how to feel about it

at one point she dresses ik up in a mini plague doctor outfit and ik is LIVING for it, she looks so COOL

thirteen starts calling her 'birdie' because the mask looks like a beak, and then that just sticks

thirteen also likes to call ik her 'little double agent' in regards to her efforts to trap solomon, even though ik doesn't actually do much double-agenting

ik's human-world background also proves to be very helpful in giving thirteen inspiration for her traps

unexpectedly, the little bit that ik knows about python from computing science proves most helpful, because thirteen converts the concept of if-else statements, while loops, etc, into a magical equivalent, which helps prevent her traps from setting off on the people she doesn't want them to

whenever they're hanging out, it's usually pretty light-hearted and high-energy - thirteen likes to coax ik out of her comfort zone and get her to try new things, though she won't push if ik is genuinely unwilling

thirteen just helps ik be more confident in general! she establishes herself as someone who'll always have ik's back and is constantly teaching her that sometimes you need to assert yourself more, and that she is fully deserving of respect

this is stuff that the brothers have been slowly been getting her to fully realise, too, but thirteen is the first to actually tell it to her

every now and then, though, while they're hanging out, they'll start having these really long, serious conversations

as a reaper, thirteen's view of humanity in general is kind of morbidly fascinating to ik, and she asks her about her perspective on all sorts of things - especially moral ones

thirteen, on the other hand, is also very intrigued by how death has influenced ik herself

not least because she, you know. did actually die once.

even though she's a reaper, she can't exactly communicate with the dead once they've fully passed on, and she's always had a lot of questions about what it's like to pass over into the great beyond

after she finds out about the whole death thing, she's a lot more stand-offish around belphie, and she also ends up becoming the being most vigilant about how all that trauma might still be affecting ik in the present

so yeah! wholesome but also chaotic girldad <3

raphael

a friend of simeon and luke is also a friend of his!

that's about as far as it gets for a while - he's nice to her because he appreciates what she's done for his friends, both the angel and the former-angel kind

but he's too awkward around her to really form a friendship independent of that - his interactions with her are solely because of simeon and/or luke, almost never of his own volition

then at some point simeon tells him about the stuff that happened during ik's first exchange year, and raphael is like [whipcrack] "WHAT"

part of it is respect along the lines of "she really did help the brothers, no wonder they feel so different-in-a-good-way", part of it is just "HOW DOES ONE SMALL CHILD GO THROUGH ALL THAT AND NOT EXPLODE?????"

and then after that he starts initiating interactions more, very subtly attempting to check up on her without also alerting her to the fact that he's aware of her not-even-that-long-ago trauma

he's similar to barbatos that, even when he's bonded with ik a fair bit, he still prefers to watch over from a distance rather than directly hang out with her

partially because, though they're both fairly chill personalities, they interact with other beings and the world around them very differently

normally they don't spend much time with each other without someone else also being there - or, more often that not, it's raphael tagging along when ik does stuff with the other angels and/or solomon

though there are times where raphael will just be like "hey ik there's this arcade place that looks kind of interesting in town. would you like to go", and they'll just go hang out together

and it goes really smoothly, actually! the conversation flows, they both make each other laugh, they're both friendlily competitive over the games, raphael nearly climbs into the claw machine when neither of them can get out the really cute panda plush

you'd think they'd spend more time with each other after that, but actually these solo hang-outs remain pretty rare - which is kind of what makes them special in the first place

raphael in general doesn't like to do this kind of thing too much, as he has a fairly limited social meter, which goes down extra fast if he's only hanging out with one person - since he's the sole other party, he feels the need to constantly be reiterating actions and words and such, rather then being able to go quiet for a bit and only interject when he wants to with groups

he enjoys it in moderation, but it'd be exhausting to do it at the same rate as, say, ik hangs out with mammon

so they're friends who help each other out and enjoy hanging out together every now and then to relax :)

mephistopheles

i know there's probably a division between which one is preferred, so i'll talk about both A. the mephistopheles that hates mephisto's guts, and B. the mephistopheles that's actually dating him

mephistopheles A would be very elaborately friendly and overwhelmingly welcoming to ik in an effort to piss mephisto off, because he knows mephisto absolutely hates it

except he pisses off ik a bit in the process as well, because she can tell that he isn't actually interested in her wellbeing or anything in the slightest

ik's also just got a natural disdain ingrained in her for nobility (and stupidly rich people) in general, so that combined with mephistopheles' complete falseness around her means she doesn't like him very much - which mephistopheles himself can tell (it's made most obvious by the fact that she usually ignores him if he doesn't approach her first)

but as long as it keeps upsetting mephisto, he doesn't care! or so he thinks...

as it turns out, being disliked by the kid who seems to like just about everyone else becomes kind of emotionally devastating in the long run

so he slowly turns into an awkward uncle who really, REALLY wants his niece to like him, but has no idea how to correct the stuff he did to make her dislike him in the first place

he (somewhat unwillingly) goes to diavolo for advice, then (VERY unwillingly) barbatos, then (EXTREMELY unwillingly) lucifer, and in the end the thing that gets ik to seemingly change her mind about him is offering to take her dragon-riding

(it says in his profile in-game that mephistopheles enjoys horse-riding, but in jtta they don't HAVE horses in the devildom, so the equivalent is dragon-riding)

this has the bonus of mephistopheles genuinely enjoying the activity involved, so in this case both parties are having fun!

after this ik waves at him whenever she sees him, and mephistopheles is like "holy shit why wasn't i doing this before", to which all the others reply "i know right"

on the other hand, mephistopheles B would have been acting like the awkward uncle from the beginning tbh

he knows his bf likes this kid, and he also knows diavolo likes this kid, but on the other hand, so does lucifer... so he's conflicted

but ultimately his desire for approval from diavolo and his bf outweighs his contempt for lucifer, so he decides that he will also try to like this kid

it's really not that hard, but what IS really hard is actually interacting with her

you've got to remember that mephistopheles and ik are from two entire opposite ends of the background wealth spectrum

there's silver spoon mephistopheles who's never had to work a day in his life, vs ik, for whom it was an accepted thing that sometimes she'd just have to go without eating more than one meal a day in order to keep the lights on

and often the stuff mephistopheles says in conversation make it very obvious just how rich he is, which tends to make ik go quiet on him, plus his idea of bonding with her is offering to spend increasing amounts of money on stuff for her, which is. not great??

but he figures it out in the end!

it turns out that he and ik have startlingly similar senses of humour (though this is mostly oweing to mephistopheles having had his thoroughly downgraded by dating mephisto)

it gets to a point where ik will be hanging out with the mephistwo, point at a bird and say very seriously "goat", and then all three collectively lose their shit

#answering asks #sunlightocean #obey me #journey to the attic #obey me thirteen #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael #jtta ik #jtta bonuses

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sparring-hyena · 3 years ago

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Ok i got a request . Remember how Chris Kait and James got those special 1 chapter episodes where they go on special dates. It would be cool to see Beccas. So its set after Book 3. Instead of going to the festival with the gang Mc decides to visit Becca first at her lakehouse and then they go to the festival just her and Becca. They ll share lots of sweet moments at the pool more fun at the concert and later on at home things can get a bit heated.

Becca reaches for her phone with the intent to scroll through her social feeds. really, she does. opening her messaging app is a reflex. opening the short text thread she has with Alex is just an accident. and typing out a hey, what’re you up to? is… a mistake? some kind of predetermined notion written into the fabric of reality?

whatever. it doesn’t matter what it is. no, what matters is that she does, send a text to Alex that is, and that she tosses her phone to the other side of couch as soon as she hits send, almost like it burns her hands.

she stares at her phone, waits for it to react to what she just did—maybe it’ll implode. she’s almost surprised when her phone buzzes a few minutes later. and she’ll never admit to just how fast she jumps forward to snatch it up.

it’s Alex. Alex responded. okay. cool cool cool.

my friends and i are on a road trip. we’ve just passed into California. you?

the you? twists itself into Becca’s mind. slips into every nook and cranny until it’s she can think and feel, and her heart is going ba-dum ba-dum and she definitely can’t just say oh, not much. just by myself at my dad’s lake house because he’s trying to buy my love now that my parents are getting divorced. except she does say that. word for word. it tumbles from her mind onto her phone and then she hits send and holds her breath in her throat as she waits for Alex’s response.

want some company then?

and what really surprised Becca is that she answers with yes.

in the days leading up to Alex’s arrival she cleans. not that there’s much to clean—the house is big, and she’s kept to one small part of it. she also rifles through her closet and decides, an hour before Alex is due to arrive, that she doesn’t have anything to wear. the clothes laying forgotten on her bed disagree, but she ignores that and feels the anxiety twist itself around her.

and then her phone buzzes and there’s a knock at the door. Alex is here. Alex is early.

shit.

she tosses on the first thing she can grab and runs her hands through her hair before darting down to the front door.

when Becca opens the door, Alex greets her with a warm smile that simultaneously calms and frightens. frightens, because how does her smile have such an effect on me. they stand awkwardly in the doorway until Alex clears her throat and asks, “did you wanna invite me in?”

“right.” Becca steps aside and motions Alex in.

Alex whistles as she looks around, still holding her bag in front of her. “nice place.”

Becca shrugs, because it is nice, stunning really, but the house doesn’t feel quite right—it never really has. it’s big and empty and somehow always manages to be cold even during summer.

“come on, i’ll show you around.”

it’s as they walk through the house that Becca realises she’s not quite sure what they are. they aren’t enemies, and now she wonders if they ever actually were. and they definitely aren’t dating. dating implies some level of commitment that Becca doubts she could ever really give. and then there would be intimacy and comfort and little inside jokes that they’d share quiet smiles over.

but that doesn’t matter anyway because she would never want to date Alex—never ever. dating Alex would be complicated and messy and she has a reputation and expectations that Alex doesn’t fit and—

“you doin’ alright there?”

“huh?” Becca shakes the thoughts away.

Alex tilts her head to the side and offers a small curious smile that manages to worm its way into Becca’s heart and find a place for itself amidst all the dark twisty tendrils that have been growing with each passing day.

“why are you looking at me like that?” Becca asks, her tone both defensive and amused.

“like what?”

“like you’re trying to read my mind.”

“i’m not, i just—” Alex sighs and Becca suddenly wonders what she’d been about to say. “you mentioned swimming?”

“swimming, right.” Becca knows a digression when she hears one, but she points to a room Alex can get changed in and says she’ll meet her downstairs.

Becca doesn’t actually swim. she sits on the edge of the dock beneath the dying afternoon sun and traces the water with her toes. Alex swims though, splashes around for a short while and tries to gently prod Becca in too. but Becca holds firm and insists that she’s more than happy on the dock.

Alex climbs out later, dripping water onto the dock and creating a small puddle that manages to spread and reach Becca’s leg. she pretends Alex dripping water on her irritates her and pretends to hate it when she flicks water at her.

Alex sits down beside her, and Becca thinks she’s waiting for her to break the silence that’s comfortably settled between them.

“do you wanna talk about it?” Alex finally asks.

Becca wonders which it they’re talking about—her parents’ divorce or the fact that some fundamental piece of their relationship or friendship or whatever they are, is changing. maybe it’s both. maybe it’s neither.

“thank you for visiting me,” she says instead. “i’m sure it pales in comparison to a road trip with your friends.”

“hardly.” Alex smiles and nudges Becca’s shoulder with her own. “we were all cramped in a van that doesn’t have working a/c. besides, i like hanging out with you, it’s…”

Becca raises her eyebrows, curious and nudging Alex on.

“easy.”

Becca laughs, like, full body laughs. never in her life has she been described as easy to be around.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothing, nothing.” Becca tries to suppress her laughter, but it doesn’t work.

“i was trying to be nice.” Alex makes a show of being hurt, even makes to leave, but the smile on her face tells a very different story.

“no, sorry.” Becca places her hand gently on Alex’s arm; wants her to believe the sincerity behind her words. “it was nice and i didn’t mean to laugh. i’ve just never been described as easy before, and with everything going on, i guess it’s been a while since something’s made me laugh.”

“oh.” Alex settles on the dock again and Becca’s hand remains on her arm. “are you talking with your parents much?”

Becca shrugs. “mom’s trying. i think we’re both just having a hard time adjusting to speaking to each other. it’s been good but strange.”

“and your dad?”

Becca barks out a laugh. “i think he’s just as clueless. only difference is he’s not making much of an effort. my sister and i were supposed to spend some time with him here over the summer. look how that turned out.”

“i’m sorry.”

“i don’t need pity—”

“i wasn’t pitying you.”

“i know, but it’s just…”

“just…?”

and Alex’s arm is suddenly very warm beneath Becca’s hand. warm and solid and grounding and— they’ve done this before. played this game where they share their insecurities and offer something dangerously close to companionship.

it won’t end well, she thinks, but her heart thumps along and tells her to indulge just this once. what’s one more time anyway?

“we shouldn’t,” Becca breathes, because one of them needs to say it.

“probably,” Alex agrees, but neither of them move to put some space between them.

“but we could.”

“definitely.”

“it would be” —amazing is the word she thinks— “fun,” is the word she says with a playful lilt to her voice that she hopes distracts from the longing want she can feel in her bones.

they’re closer now, faces no more than a couple inches apart, and the air around them feels stiff somehow, like the world around them took one massive breath and is now waiting for them to do something about the balloon of tension that’s been slowly inflating for months.

and then the balloon bursts, and there’s kissing and moaning and wandering hands and— oh god, Becca suddenly remembers why she wanted to do this again. it feels like electricity zapping up and down her body. it hurts and it heals, and she wonders if they’ll ever do this again—silently hopes that they will.

she pulls Alex closer, decides that it’s still not enough—some tiny part of her heart hums and says that it never will be—and moves to straddle her lap and thread her fingers through her hair.

“here?” Alex asks between frantic and hurried kisses.

Becca hums and urges Alex’s hands further down her body.

it happens quickly after that. the coil inside Becca tightens each time Alex moves her fingers and moans her name and nips at her neck and— it snaps. the coil snaps and its wonderful and horrible and Becca is suddenly acutely aware of the place Alex holds in her heart.

and that— it terrifies her, because for the first time in her life she has no idea how it will go.

they head back up to the house not long later, stumbling through the first floor and upstairs as they share laughs and kisses. and when they reach the foot of the bed, Becca pushes Alex back and is quick to return the favour.

Becca wakes early in the morning on her side and facing Alex who’s fast asleep and completely dead to the world. she takes this moment, this brief interlude, to consider her next move.

the last time they did this, she left as soon as she woke up. though leaving isn’t exactly an option right now, and Becca finds that even if it were, leaving is the last thing she wants to do.

she brings her hand to Alex’s face and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. the gesture, though small, is enough to cause Alex to stir.

“hi,” Alex says, her voice heavy with sleep and eyes barely open.

“hi.”

“you were right,” she says, sporting a tired grin, “it was fun.”

Becca hums and shifts closer to Alex, tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder. “how long can you stay?”

“how long do you want me to stay?”

“i asked you first.”

“so?”

“humour me.”

their back-and-forth is light, airy. it’s how they usually talk. but there’s insecurity that hides beneath it all. insecurity that itches to be breathed into the world and soothed away.

“well, my friends and i were going to the aurora music festival tomorrow.”

“oh.”

“but maybe, if you wanted to, you could come with?”

“are you asking me to go with you?”

“i asked you first.”

Becca smacks Alex’s shoulder but can’t stop the smile on her face. “yes, i want to go.”

“good” —Alex leans in then, stops only when their lips are just about to touch— “because i really want you to come with me.”

“is that so?”

Alex hums and brings their lips together in a slow and easy kiss that Becca’s all too happy to get lost in.

“wait, hang on.” Alex pulls away, a suddenly serious expression on her face. “you didn’t tell me how long you wanted me to stay.”

forever is the word she thinks, but she just smiles and brings their lips together again, and she thinks that Alex might just understand.

#my writing #request #anon #becca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman #the sophomore #the junior #the senior #playchoices

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mysticpetals · 4 years ago

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Hello! I was wondering if at some point when you have time or if you want to, could you write some headcannons/a drabble for each of the characters with an insecure MC? It would mean a lot to me thank you 😊❤️ Your work it amazing by the way, I’m so glad you are a fan too~

Richy

He won't notice it at first.

But when mc keeps on making self depriciating jokes and their smile dim everytime, he'll know that something is wrong.

He'll try to ask mc first.

And if they don't want to talk about it, he'll try to make them realise how wonderful they are in different ways.

Like, texting them every morning about how much they miss their pretty/handsome face.

Richy will always hype them up when they're out together with the group and notice if they smile at his words.

Slowly but surely, he'll try to talk to them about their insecurities and when mc is finally ready to open up, he'll give them all the assurances in the world.

Jessy

She'll pick up on it pretty soon.

And she'll constantly remind mc that they're a wonderful person.

Lots of hearts and memes all throughout the day.

Lots and lots of compliments!

mc changed their hair? They look fabulous, mc bought new clothes? They're absolutely rocking it, mc wants to eat junk food for the rest of the day? Jessy is coming along.

She'll be so supportive that mc can't help but feel like they do deserve nice things and with time, learn to accept it.

Jessy makes sure mc knows how much they mean to everyone and how everyone appreciates them very much.

Jake

He notices at once too.

After all, he know what signs to look for, considering he is pretty much the same.

Two insecure dorks.

Although he doesn't know how to make himself feel better, he makes sure that mc knows how nice they are.

His way to comfort them is awkward but mc appreciates the fact that he's trying to make them feel better.

And in return, they compliment him all the same, causing him to blush and wave them off.

There are a lot of silent assurances between them.

Like leaving little notes for the other to find that make them smile.

A comment here or there in passing.

They're both trying to do their best that's all.

Cleo

She'll pick it up by reading into your messages.

She'll try to be supportive subtly.

Like complimenting the mc and asking where they bought that outfit because it looks good on them.

Or giving offhanded compliments in the middle of a conversation about how thankful everyone is that the mc is helping them.

She doesn't know mc that well so she figured she shouldn't ask outright.

If mc is having a bad day, she won't hesitate to send pictures of cakes and desserts and asking them to eat with her next time.

If mc's mood doesn't improve, she'll try to have a serious chat with them, making sure they know that everyone appreciates them and their help and she will be here if mc ever wants to talk or rant.

Dan

He's a completely insensitive person about it at first.

Which hurts mc a lot that he's just brushing their concerns aside.

But he doesn't understand why mc would think about themselves like that (when it's not true) and is genuinely confused as to why this would bother them.

But after listening and earful from Jessy and realising that he came off as rude, he'll apologize straight away.

mc is still miffed about it but they smile when he sends funny videos and his useless commentary on the group's shenanigans.

His way of giving comfort it still blunt and mc just sighs and realises that it's just his way of showing he cares.

Eventually they learn to brush off their insecurities with the help of humor and secretly think that Dan's way might have helped a little.

Lilly

She takes a little time to notice.

And when she does, she's confused as to what she should do.

She doesn't know mc very well and they have an understanding due to Jake but besides that, they aren't exactly friends.

So whenever she talks to mc, she manages to slip in a little something to make them feel better about themselves.

mc is weirded out by it at first.

They don't know each other after all.

But after seeing her disguised efforts to make them feel better, mc is really touched.

And begins to talk to Lilly in earnest, hoping to be her friend.

Phil

He noticed it in the way mc averted their eyes when he complimented them.

So what does he do?

Start complimenting them more often.

Phil flirts with mc at all given chances making them flush.

He wants them to know that they are very desirable and shouldn't be too hard on themselves.

If mc asks him why he compliments them so much, he'll tell the truth.

That he wants them to be confident about themselves.

And mc would be very grateful for all his efforts.

Thomas

He's a bit thickheaded with things like these.

So he doesn't know at all until mc tells him point blank.

And then he doesn't know what to say because he had never had to reassure Hannah.

So he just awkwardly says that everything would be alright.

And for the next time, asks the group to be a little mindful of their interactions with the mc.

Telling them what they shouldn't mention.

He won't say anything to them directly but his actions definitely speak louder.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood headcannons #duskwood richy #duskwood dan #duskwood lilly #duskwood jessy #duskwood phil #duskwood cleo #duskwood thomas

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Love Carnival - Part 4 (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

There are five parts in total! Brace yourself for tons of fluff :>

Part 3: here

[ LUCIEN ]

Looking around the adorably and warmly decorated cafeteria, and then the little gift that came along with the meal, I’m a little confused.

A few minutes ago, we were thinking about what to have for dinner, and we walked into this warm and adorably decorated small shop.

But we didn’t expect...

MC: I really didn't think it’d be so “hardcore”.

I hold up the little gift, placing it in between Lucien and I.

It’s different from the small ornaments and objects with a feminine aura from my memories.

This cafeteria gives a heart-shaped Burr puzzle to patrons who order the couple set.

MC: The dishes are so delicious that they’re comparable to top-grade restaurants. Even the gifts they provide are just as hardcore. It’s amazing.

Lucien is tickled by my dead serious expression.

Lucien: Looks like the organiser has put in much effort, wanting to leave every visitor with unforgettable and happy memories.

MC: But giving visitors a heart which can’t be unlocked - what’s the owner of the shop thinking...

Without a proper strategy, I play with the Burr puzzle, and can’t help but grumble.

Lucien chuckles, taking this “heart” from my hand.

Lucien: With a little technique, it can be opened easily.

He sits slightly closer to me. Slowing down, he gives me a demonstration while explaining the technique of how to unlock the Burr puzzle.

With the movement of his fingertips and a gentle tug, the wooden lock, which was linked for a very long time, opens, revealing a tiny empty space in the heart which can be used to store things.

MC: Even though you’re already sick of this phrase, I still have to say - Lucien, you’re truly incredible.

Lucien: If I say that I haven’t gotten sick of this phrase, would you be willing to say it to me even more times?

Lucien turns his head over slightly to look at me. In his eyes are the familiar smile and slyness I’m most familiar with.

MC: If I say it, will I get a special prize from Professor Lucien?

After hearing this, Lucien actually ponders over it.

He narrows his eyes slightly, as though he’s facing the most complex, important, and difficult question.

Lucien: If it’s a prize...

All of a sudden, he leans over to my ear. Every gentle word brushes against my outer ear, trickling into my heart.

Lucien: Would an especially happy Lucien be enough?

MC: ...Professor Lucien, that’s called being unreasonable.

Lucien: Is that so? I even thought you’d be very satisfied with it.

Lucien blinks, pretending to be taken aback.

Just when I think of how to best turn the tables, he places the wooden mortise of the Burr puzzle, which is used to store items, in my hand.

Lucien: Want to think of what to put in here? Given its structure, I’m thinking this is a safer place to store tiny keepsakes.

MC: Yes.

I turn towards the staff at the side, asking for a few sheets of post-its and pens, and also to allowing the temperature on my face to dissipate.

After we write on our respective notes for a while, Lucien and I exchange them.

On mine, there’s a simple drawing of a man opening a lock, a handsome smile on his face.

What Lucien hands over is a sketch.

In the simple composition, in the midst of light and shadow, he impressively draws me.

The me in the picture has her head lowered, writing on the post-it note, smiling very sweetly.

MC: Now, we’re doubly satisfied!

[ VICTOR ]

We walk and pause, finally ending up before the Pendulum ride.

Pointing at the attraction, where shrill cries can be heard constantly, I think of that children’s day when he had taken the “Time Traveler” ride with me.

And how time had stopped for a few seconds during the descent.

[Note] This is a reference to Fairytale Date!

MC: Want to give this a try?

I turn my head, looking at Victor expectantly.

Victor: No.

As I expected, Victor rejects me.

MC: Victor, could you be scared?

Victor: Of course not.

His expression is stern, and he looks forward.

MC: In that case, ride it with me!

While saying this, I pull him along with me and we sit down.

There’s still some time before the ride begins. The chatter and laughter from people in the queue before us continuously drift over.

Enthusiastic visitor: A friend of mine took the Pendulum before. When it was over, he calmly said that it wasn’t much. In the end, he started puking after taking a few steps.

Happy visitor: Hahahaha, the same thing happened to my colleague. He sat for the ride in another place once, and screamed until his voice was hoarse at work the next day. He had to drink chinese medicine for the entire day.

I’m somewhat tickled by the conversations.

MC: They’re speaking so exaggeratedly. How could that be possible? What do you think?

The criticism I expected doesn’t arrive.

Finding this a little odd, I look at Victor, realising that he’s strapping on his seatbelt seriously, his expression stern.

Oh...?

I really wish I could take out my phone and snap a picture of this Victor before me.

The Pendulum truly lives up to its name.

At first, I even thought it’d be so-so.

But when the Pendulum’s amplitude grows increasingly larger, till it feels like I’m being tossed around, I can’t help but scream.

MC: Ahhhhh--

This! Is! Too! Scary!

Just when I’m forced to sit through these parabolic motions, my left hand is gently held onto by someone.

Bracing against the violent wind, I open my eyes. Victor is sitting straight and quietly in his seat. His posture is tense, yet he looks as though he’s very calm.

Amid the shrill screams, I can vaguely hear his voice.

Victor: Don’t be afraid.

Stepping off the Pendulum, I immediately grasp for the railing at the side.

However, when I see Victor’s crooked tie and slightly unkempt hair, I can’t help but burst into laughter.

This time, I don’t let this chance slip by, and keep this dishevelled Victor in my phone.

I make a decision to have this picture printed out to be placed at the bedside.

Victor: ...what are you doing this time?

MC: Nothing, nothing! Oh yes, what do you think of this attraction?

Victor: ...so-so.

MC: If you’re afraid, you can just say so. It’s a normal human reaction, and I won’t laugh at you.

Victor: I’m not afraid.

MC: In that case...

I look at Victor, my smile growing wider.

MC: Let’s ride it again!

Victor: ...

MC: You aren’t going to prove that you aren’t afraid?

Victor: Let’s go then.

MC: Eh?

Victor: Since you’re so enthusiastic about this ride, you’ll definitely experience it together with me. Am I wrong?

Seeing Victor arch his brows slightly, and turning my game against me, I respond with certainty--

MC: I’m sorry! We’ll head to another attraction right now!

[ KIRO ]

The cafeterias in the Love Carnival must have gone through a lot of designing in order for moe flowers to appear easily for couples.

Every single themed cafe is packed to the brim. I hurriedly pull Kiro, who is wearing a wig, away from these “danger zones”.

There aren’t many people in the forest right now, leaving only the rustling of leaves.

MC: It’s a good thing I thought of this scenario beforehand.

Kiro: Deng deng deng deng!

When we speak in unison yet again, we retrieve picnic mats from our individual bags, and look at each other blankly.

MC: ...I made enough for two. Did you also buy two sets?

Kiro: I was worried the cafeterias would be too crowded and we’d be hungry.

Kiro: But...

His voice grows soft, and I don’t know what he’s struggling with.

In the end, he purses his lips, turning his eyes to me.

Kiro: I didn’t buy them.

MC: ...hm?

He chuckles in embarrassment, spreading the picnic mat smoothly on the ground, and taking out food boxes from the bag.

Seeing these food boxes, I’m left slightly stunned. Based on my memory of how long I’ve known Kiro, it seems that I've never had a taste of his cooking.

Kiro: I was thinking that since today is such a special day, even if we couldn’t sit in a cafeteria to have a couple set meal, we should at least have something special. I don’t want you to be left with any regrets today, so I was wondering how to make things different for you.

Kiro: And then... [laughs sheepishly] what you see in front of you happened.

I lift up Kiro’s food box. The rice has been scooped up in a crooked manner. Although the carrots could be said to be in heart-shapes, they look more like the heads of an arrow.

In the messy omelette, the ham seems to have sneaked out secretly. Perhaps it wanted to have a breath of air after being in such an enclosed space.

The octopus sausages are like blooming fireworks, hiding in the gigantic rice ball, too shy to see anyone. Meanwhile, the sandwich looks incredibly full, and it seems to have chicken drumsticks in it.

This looks like a far from perfect bento - shoddy and clumsy.

Kiro: ...what’s in front of you is already the best attempt.

MC: How many times did you make this?!

Kiro: I’ll let it remain an undisclosed secret forever.

He places his palm on his chest, closing his eyes and saying this quietly.

Chuckling, I hand the bento that I've prepared to him. In exchange, he gives me a few minutes’ worth of praises.

MC: This seems to be the first time I’m eating what you made.

Kiro: There shouldn’t be a problem.

He looks at me with certainty. His expression is exceptionally serious, causing me to laugh aloud.

MC: Why didn’t you show this to me before?

Kiro: They weren’t good enough.

MC: Have you met your standards now?

Kiro: Of course not! I just felt... that you’d be happy with this.

His eyes are bright, akin to a sun being hidden by soft clouds which are unable to shroud the light.

This perfectionist is slowly, bit by bit, willing to display the areas he isn’t perfect in before me.

Like the tender belly of a kitten.

MC: I’m especially happy. But if something does happen, you’ll have to take responsibility.

Kiro: Of course I’ll take responsibility! Even if nothing happens, I’ll also take responsibility! [laughs] I’ll take responsibility after eating.

The afternoon sunlight is just right. The quiet forest is reminiscent of a small world, embracing us.

MC: I’ll be digging in now!

[ SHAW ]

Ghost masks on sale are hung on the dark red wall. The masks have a sense of antiquity to them, and their bewitching and bizarre appearances look utterly terrifying.

Simply standing at the entrance of the haunted house makes one feel deeply frightened. And the rule of “Only one person can enter at one time” causes several people to shrink away.

Shaw and MC: ...

Shaw: Got the guts?

MC: What’s there to be afraid of?

Shaw: You first, or me?

MC: ...I’ll go first.

With a solemn expression, I prepare to enter. However, my wrist is suddenly gripped by Shaw, and he pulls me back.

Shaw: Wait. I’ll give you something.

I can feel him stuffing something into my hand.

Unfurling my hand, I see a string of Buddhist prayer beads laying quietly in my palm.

MC: ...

Shaw: Have a pleasant journey.

In the pitch-black and narrow pathway, I bite the bullet and move forward at a tortoise’s pace. My hands continuously twist the prayer beads, muttering to myself.

MC: Whether you're a monster, demon, or ghost, don’t come and scare me, don’t come and scare me...

Thud--

Footsteps sound from behind me, and the hair on my body immediately stands on end.

I’m rooted to the spot. After a few seconds, when I muster the courage to turn around, a hand plops onto my left shoulder.

MC: !!!

At this moment, my blood seems to freeze.

I quietly wait for two seconds, but nothing happens. Suddenly, there’s a twinge of hope in my heart--

Maybe it’s Shaw!

Thinking of how he usually likes to play tricks on me, I become even more certain of my guess.

With a deep breath, I give myself some courage and turn my head.

MC: Shaw--

??: Fuu.......

MC: ...

MC: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH--

With a speed which human eyes can’t capture, I huddle and curl into a corner, using my hand to cover my left ear, sensing goosebumps spreading across my entire body.

Along with my heartrending exclamation, a stream of chuckles resound at the same time.

??: It’s me.

Silvery white electricity appears in the darkness.

The person who’s speaking walks over to me. He squats down, a smile hanging on his lips, looking as though his prank has succeeded.

Shaw: Who was the one who made a solemn vow that she wouldn’t be scared?

I glare angrily at the person before me.

MC: I knew it was you! When you deliberately scare someone, of course they’d be scared! It’s an instinctive reaction. Also, you can scare someone to death, you know!

Weakly and helplessly, I hug myself tight. My voice is also trembling slightly.

He seems to be at a slight loss. After a while, he speaks.

Shaw: ...fine, I was wrong this time.

Perhaps genuinely feeling apologetic, Shaw pauses, his voice also a little more gentle.

Shaw: Hey, want to know a way so you wouldn't be scared?

MC: ...what is it?

I lift my head from my knees in curiosity.

He offers me a hand, his eyes crinkling slightly, filled with a wilful light.

Shaw: Follow me and they won’t scare you.

Shaw and I hold hands as we continue down this cramped pathway.

Because he’s by my side, I feel much more composed.

Female ghost: I’m~ Filled~ With~ Hatred...

All of a sudden, a hand plops onto my shoulder. Shaw and I pause in our footsteps.

I subconsciously tighten my grip on Shaw’s hand. In the next moment, I feel him returning the gesture with a squeeze.

Courage fills my heart. With this, Shaw and I turn around together...

??: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH--

Another shrill cry fills the pathway.

This time, however, the cry doesn’t belong to me, but to the “female ghost” with dishevelled hair.

Shaw extinguishes the electricity in his hand. He removes the ghost masks we saw at the entrance earlier, and laughs.

Shaw: If you want to scare me, you’ve got to put in more practise.

[ GAVIN ]

MC: What should we go for next?

Gavin and I are walking along the street, searching for our next target. A row of vending machines attract my attention.

The line of vending machines contain all sorts of toy capsules. From keychains to ornaments, there’s everything one could wish for.

Especially that one containing couple keychains. The furry keychains look exceptionally adorable.

I notice that Gavin has paused in front of one vending machine.

It’s a vending machine containing robots.

I vaguely recall watching a cartoon related to it when I was young. However, I wasn’t very interested in it, and never really understood it.

However, this looks like something Gavin would like.

MC: Gavin, there’s one vending machine I’d like to try. Could you wait here for me?

Gavin: Coincidentally, I do too.

I grin, nodding at him.

MC: Let’s split up and get the toy capsules we want, and we’ll meet back here later?

When we meet up again, I place the toy capsule in Gavin’s hand with satisfaction.

MC: Open it and take a look? Do you like it?

Gavin twists the toy capsule open, and surprise flashes across his eyes.

Gavin: I like it.

While he speaks, he pieces it together simply, letting the small, monochrome robot stand in his palm.

The little robot is holding a gun in one hand, and a shield in the other. Behind it is a structure resembling a one-sided wing.

On top of its circular head is a yellow antenna. Along with its four short limbs, it looks extremely cute.

Gavin: This is my favourite model.

MC: I got it randomly, and didn’t expect to get the right one.

Gavin: I was lucky too.

Gavin smiles, takes out a toy capsule, and opens it.

It happens to be the furry couple keychains I saw earlier.

One of them has soft and long ears, while the other has straight, sharp ears.

Gavin keeps the one with sharp ears, then carefully attaches the doll with the long ears on my bag. Pleased, he nods.

Gavin: Mm, it suits you.

Gavin keeps the little robot in his pocket, and the keychain swings next to me.

Seeing the gifts we’ve exchanged, sweetness brims from the depths of my heart.

MC: Having been with you for such a long time, I feel that my knowledge has been expanded.

Gavin: I've learnt quite a lot too.

Gavin pauses, then continues confidently.

Gavin: For instance, that the lipstick you're wearing today is the colour of red bean paste. And that you’ve curled your fringe slightly.

Pleasantly surprised, I blink and want to give him a round of applause for his perfect answer.

MC: What else?

Gavin: Also, that I have to separate the white from the yolk when making fried rice. And that succulents don’t need that much watering.

MC: Then... what are the steps to preparing sliced fish boiled in chilli oil?

Probably not expecting that I’d suddenly pose a question, he ponders it carefully before responding in an exceptionally solemn manner.

Gavin: I can’t explain it right now, but I noted it down in my notes.

After he finishes speaking, we look at each other, then laugh in unison.

MC: Gavin, tell me more about this robot. And about basketball, motorcycles, planes and all the things you like.

Gavin: Okay. I’m hoping that you’d give me more cooking classes too.

The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, and fragments of sunlight flash in his eyes.

Gavin: I want to have an even better understanding of everything to do with you.

Part 5: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

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anntoldst0ries · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas (Baby please come home) - part II

Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Vicky Valentine)

Word Count: 6k+

Rating: R

Summary: Ethan & Vicky’s first Christmas together… will everything go as planned?

Category: Mini series, completed. Part I can be found here.

Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit language, mild sexual content. Other than this - I declare fluff, fluff and nothing but the fluff! :D

Author’s note: Part II is here and it’s long - sorry not sorry :D I put a lot of effort into this story and I hope you’re gonna like it :) I’d like to thank A. from the bottom of my heart, not only has she proofread it and corrected my mistakes, but also gave me the most amazing feedback. Jenner’s response is also hers, but she thoughtfully let me use it :) This is for you my dear <3

Written for CFWC Winter season, using prompt 10.

Christmas Eve

And then it was just them.

In the car.

Alone.

“For someone who has just said more words in 5 minutes than he does for a whole week, you’re surprisingly quiet, Dr Ramsey.’’

“Excellent observation, Dr Valentine. This is exactly the type of insight that earned you a spot on the Diagnostics Team.” Ethan threw her a tiny smile. “But it’s not surprising. It’s called getting things back on an even keel.”

She didn’t say anything, just gently moved her gaze outside the window, where the wintery Boston landscape unfolded right in front of them. In the background, Frank Sinatra’s velvety voice tucked her like a blanket and she couldn’t help but think he’d love White Christmas in the state of Massachusetts.

It wasn’t until then that she actually realised the Christmas song was playing in Ethan's car and not from the radio. This healthy compromise (Sinatra for him, Christmas song for her) made her smile, as she knew how much of an effort listening to Christmas tunes was for the man sitting on her left. His ears must have been bleeding heavily. She made sure of it, playing the jingles at full blast every evening, scarring him for life.

“Did you call your family to let them know you’re not coming?” Ethan’s deep baritone roused Vicky from the sea of thoughts she was immersed in.

“Nope, for two reasons: a - they didn’t know I was coming in the first place and b - I am still undecided.”

Vicky noticed the muscles on his face twitch in an instant.

“What can I do to help you make your mind up?” Ethan gently took her tiny hand in his and caressed the inside with his thumb. Then, he took it to his mouth and placed a kiss with great reverence, as if he was a religious fanatic and she was an object of religious cult.

This took her by surprise. She was expecting a snotty remark, a raise of an eyebrow or dead silence. Instead, the question hit her with a load of affection so genuine that warmth instantly spread in her chest.

She knew exactly what it was that she needed.

He knew exactly what she was going to ask for.

“Ethan, I… listen, you and I both know there is something more to your reaction. What I said in your office, it was just a trigger. I don’t know what it is and frankly I thought about never mentioning it again. But we both know that the next time this happens, you will cut me off again. I am not going to force you to do something you don’t want to. I just can’t keep going through the same cycles and… and—“

He put his palm on hers and took a deep breath.

“Are you hungry? Tired?” The older doctor asked with concern.

What the hell? Oh, I see what you’re doing Ramsey. Change of subject. Fine. I said what I wanted to say. The ball’s in your court now, doc.

“No to both.” She said as neutrally as possible, trying her best not to show him that the sudden change of subject upset her.

“Good. Before we go home, there is a place I need to stop by, is that ok?” The question sounded shyly, it wasn’t a tone she’d ever associate with him.

“I’ve never heard of a murderer who asked his victim if it’s ok to stop by the crime scene.”

“Trust me, if I were to murder you, you wouldn’t know.”

“Hmm, I’d like to think I know you well enough I would at least suspect.”

“I’d like to think you know me well enough to also know that I’d rather give you one of Dr Ramsey’s signature tirades. They are worse than murder.”

“No arguments here. So, will you tell me where we are going?”

“You’ll see.”

Soon, Ethan parked the car. He unbuckled the seat belt, opened the door and rushed to the other side, to open hers. He reached out for her hand with a faint smile and she blushed at the gentlemanly gesture.

Having intertwined their fingers, Ethan led her along a high brick wall until a gate materialised in front of them. He gently pushed the gate and let her through. Only then did she realise where they actually were.

“Commonwealth Avenue Mall? What are we doing here?”

“If you ask me, it’s one of the most picturesque pathways I’ve ever seen and not only during winter. I like to come here for my runs and to… contemplate. Walk with me?” He asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Hand in hand, they walked down the alley. Fresh snow scrunched underfoot and the strings of lights danced to the melody of delicate wind. If this wasn’t a fairytale setting, she didn’t know what could be.

Vicky studied Ethan’s features carefully. Although he was still a closed book sometimes, she’s gotten quite good at reading him over the months. After Edenbrook, Ethan Ramsey was the second biggest field where her sharp diagnostic skills were heavily utilised. Maybe that’s what she should focus on once she starts her PhD? “The curious case of Ethan Jonah Ramsey.”

That’s how she noticed that something was clearly eating Ethan from the inside. If her calculations were correct, there was approximately 1/1000 chance of him making a decision to speak, so she decided to throw him a lifebelt.

“Ethan, I can see that you want to say something, but it feels like you’re hesitating. Please don’t feel obliged to talk, I want you to do it on your own terms. As long as I know you want to talk to me eventually, I’m fine.”

“If I don’t speak now, I’m afraid I might never summon the courage.” Ethan tried to make it sound like a joke, but she knew how serious he was right now. She knew how much it had to cost him. Suddenly, she stopped and put her hands around his neck, then pressed her forehead to his.

“Don’t do this because of me.”

“Because of you? I’m not doing this because of you. I’m doing it for you. For us. What I’m about to say is painful, Vicky, but it’s nowhere near as painful as the thought of losing you. I’ve already told you how much time we lost because of my stubbornness. When… when you and Raf were locked in the hospital room…when I thought you were slipping from my grasp…” He had to stop to clear his throat and take a deep breath, clearly struggling to talk. “I promised myself that if life gives me a second chance, I will not waste it. I will work on this, on us, harder than I’ve worked during my 10 years at Edenbrook combined. I’d climb every damn mountain and swim every ocean if that’s what it takes to have you in my life.”

She wanted to cry. It took every ounce of her strength not to. Ethan wasn’t a blabbermouth, but when he spoke - man, he knew how to choose his words wisely.

“Ethan, whatever it is… we will get through it. Together. You are not alone, darling.”

Ethan felt tears prickling from underneath his closed lids. Not only because of what she said, but also because of what she didn’t say. He saw the impact of his words in her eyes, yet she didn’t want to make this about her, but him. Her selflessness was one of the things he loved and admired most about her. The older doctor never let himself be so vulnerable with any other person and as hard as it was for him, it also felt strangely right. As if all the pieces of this crazy puzzle called life finally came together.

Feeling as ready as he’d ever be, he took a deep breath and said: “Let me take you on a trip down memory lane…”

25 years earlier

Ethan is 11 and he’s sitting alone in his room. The window in the 4 walls of his world overlooks the street and it's his only connection to the outside world. The window sill underneath is wide enough to sit on it, but not very comfortable for a long time.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there, unmoving. It may have been hours, it may have been days. Time lost its sense.

He’s already past the point of pain caused by the unnatural position, his body has entered the numb phase, and he doesn’t feel anything anymore. He wishes his mind could join his body in the bliss of being rid of feelings.

It is only thanks to the carollers wandering on the streets that he’s convinced it must be Christmas Eve. And how he also knows it’s been 27 days since his mother walked out on him. Anger mixes with despair, yet he’s unable to stop waiting for her, stop jumping involuntarily at any movement in close proximity of his home. There is still hope.

Unbeknownst to him, Alan stands on the other side of the door trying to make the hardest decision today: to save his son or to be there for his son. Alan is a painful reminder of the life they once had, a bridge to the reality that tumbled down. He slowly retreats from the door, unsure if he’s doing the right or the bad thing. How are you supposed to know? Life does not exactly prepare you for moments like this.

Everyone asks him how Ethan is. No wonder, he is just a child whose mother disappeared into thin air. But do they not realise he suffers too? He loved, loves this woman more than life itself.

Alan was furious at Louise. But was he surprised? Not entirely. Deep down, he always knew that she was a restless soul. She always gave him hints - a subtle comment here and there, some words said during one of their fights. But he was blindly in love, so whenever she gave him reasons to think they shouldn’t be together, he ignored it. And when she did something that surprised him, she won him over and he lost the argument with himself.

What worried Alan was that Ethan started showing Louise’s personality traits. And as much as she fooled him, he didn’t want his only child to end up broken and hurt. If he could, he’d do anything to protect him. But even as a father he was unable to shield his child from the damage of being abandoned by his mother, the only person that should forever shower him with unconditional love. How does one ever recover from such trauma?

Ethan knew. Although his dad tiptoed around him, he felt it. He knew exactly that he was fighting internal battles. He knew that his father suffered.

There wasn’t anything that he wanted more than for his dad to come and hug him and tell him everything’s gonna be alright.

Or for his mum to come back home and explain the unexplainable.

But somehow he knew this wasn’t going to happen and he was tired of waiting for a miracle.

And on this Christmas Eve he made a decision: he will never let anyone fool him with a promise of unconditional love ever again.

He will separate himself from the rest of the world, build a wall so high no one will ever be able to jump over it.

No one will hurt him again, because you can’t hurt the rational mind, you can only hurt an emotional heart.

Today

“I haven’t cried since.” Ethan was now full on sobbing. “Until I met you, that is.”

She pulled him as close as humanly possible and enveloped him in a tight hug, with his head resting upon the crook of her neck. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks abundantly.

The older doctor was afraid that once he’d start, he’d never stop crying. All his shattered dreams, his sleepless nights, silent prayers, fake smiles, they all joined forces and attacked him with all their might. Had it not been for her hard grip, he might’ve fallen on his knees. How this petite girl found so much strength was a mystery to him, but he’d never been more grateful.

She kept rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. It made her feel so unspeakably sad that the man she loved had to carry this unimaginable burden throughout his whole life. And as much as it sucked, she was happy that from now on, they could carry this burden together. Although he didn’t say anything, Ethan must have agreed, as she felt the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. They stood there in the freezing cold for what felt like forever. But neither of them seemed to mind, because they were in their tiny little bubble, impenetrable, where no one could hurt them.

Finally, the older doctor broke the silence.

“Let’s go. You must be freezing.”

“I’m about 5 minutes from hypothermia but I should be fine. I know a great doctor.”

“Well, one of the most important principles of modern medicine is ‘prevent, not cure.’ Plus, I think someone has really missed you.”

———

“OMG Jenner st—“

Before she was ready to finish the sentence, she was already on the floor, laughing like a maniac.

“You will be the death of me, Jenner.”

I’ll treat that as a compliment, Vic. But Christmas treats first, chatting later, lady!

That’s how she thought the conversation went in the dog's head. Ethan helped her get up and took her coat.

“I hope you are still not sleepy.”

“Not really, why?”

“Because I need a companion.”

“Always & with pleasure, but I assume you mean something else right now?”

“You minx. I want you to sit down comfortably, I’ll pour you a glass of wine. You can watch one of your favourite Christmas movies or play Christmas songs - whatever your heart desires.”

“Who are you and have you eaten my own Mr Grinch, Christmas-friendly creature?”

“I just need you to sit here whilst I’ll be working. Now go and get changed.”

She obeyed quickly, which she always did when he used his commanding doctor voice on her. Whilst changing into leggings and a hoodie, some weird noises reached her ears, clearly coming from the living room. When Vicky came back, a glass of white wine sat on the coffee table. But that’s not what surprised her.

The 37-year old diagnostician was tangled in Christmas lights and so was Jenner, who thought his master was playing some sort of game with him and kept jumping around Ethan.

“What are you doing?”

“Well…since, because of me, you had to call off Christmas, I’m reinstating it. I will take all the decorations out while you’ll be sitting here doing nothing, maybe apart from instructing me on how to do it right. Does this sound like a fair punishment?”

“Only if you let me record this and post it on Pictagram.”

“Don’t cross the line, Valentine.”

“Ethan Ramsey, king of rhymes! Fine, I suppose I can still die happy knowing I’ve instilled the Christmas spirit into you.”

“Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to actually dump you in the forest…”

“Talk to the hand, Gramps!”

---------

Christmas Day

Christmas mornings were always rushed and crazy at the Valentine household. Although Vicky loved Christmas in her family home, she didn’t know how much she actually enjoyed the lazy, easy Christmas mornings until she was able to experience it. And she couldn’t be more content that it was with Ethan.

Mercifully, he let her sleep until 9am (obviously, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t mumble something about her sleeping too long and how she was able to function like this, but she completely ignored the remarks) and then brought her breakfast to bed, which she consumed in its entirety, with a little help from Jenner. The most important meal of the day had been delivered with a complimentary kiss, which was her favourite part.

“Ethan!” She shouted from the bedroom, not quite ready to leave the comfort of his bed. The older doctor left her with the food and went to prepare them both a cup of coffee.

“Jesus Christ woman, you’re so loud I’m starting to consider getting rid of my stereo.”

“Oh, it didn’t seem to bother you last night.” She winked at him and he grinned involuntarily. How was it possible that she was in possession of his facial expressions too?

“Anyway, can you please remind me what time we have to be there tonight?”

“Be where tonight?”

“Naveen’s Christmas Party.”

“We’re not going.”

“Yes, we are.”

“No, we are not.”

“Ok, let me rephrase this: me and my unearthly seductive dress are definitely in attendance. If you and Your Royal Grumpiness wish to stay home, be my guests.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You know how much I hate rubbing shoulders with idiots in bowties.”

“I do, but let me offer some consolation. This time, you don’t have to do this, because we are not raising any donations. Also, we can laugh at those idiots together and if either of us is stuck in a pointless conversation, the other can always rescue them.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic, instead pulling her close against his chest and kissing the top of her head.

Later this evening

“V, how much longer until you are ready?” Ethan was growing impatient. He hated waiting and just couldn’t understand what took her so long. He was convinced that even wearing a garbage bag, she’d be the most stunning woman in the room.

“Ethan, nothing has changed since you’ve asked me 5 minutes ago.”

“Fine, but don’t be surprised if I leave without you.”

“No you won’t. But for someone who didn’t want to go at all not longer than 8 hours ago you are quite eager now. Call me an influencer.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want if this means we can leave soon. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”

“Whatever I want? Bad move Ramsey, bad move.”

“I’ll sho—“

He turned around and the words got stuck in his throat at the sight unveiling in front of him. She looked like a freaking goddess, who decided to descend from Mount Olympus and grace the mortals with her presence.

“You were saying?”

“I..I… you..well..” For a man so educated he now sounded less articulate than a toddler. To make things worse, a certain body part painfully reminded him that behind the facade of accomplishments, he was still a primate.

“Ethan, could you stop talking so much? I can’t hear my own thoughts.” She laughed and it was so infectious that he couldn’t help but smile.

She decided to wear a long, black gown, with a thigh high split showing her slim, tanned legs that he was a total sucker for. The ensemble was complimented by crystal embellished sandals and glamorous drop earrings.

“I’ve never seen anyone whose insides matched their outsides so accurately. To me, you are perfect.”

Her heart stopped and she felt butterflies waltzing through her stomach. No matter how many times Ethan complimented her, she always felt like Cupid punched her right in the face. And she hoped the feeling would never fade or disappear.

“So you watched Love Actually with me yesterday.”

“Watched is an overstatement. I might have peeked a few times.” Ethan cleared his throat. “Can we go now?”

“Absolutely not. Did the Edenbrook gala not teach you that if you need to attend an event you are not particularly excited about, you shouldn’t go sober?”

“I suppose you have a point here. One drink.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“Deal! Pleasure doing business with you, Dr Ramsey.”

Ethan poured them both a glass of his best scotch. Before she was able to take a sip, he stopped her with his hand. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

“Fire away.”

“To curing the incurable. In medicine and in life.” He sent her a sweet, genuine smile that made her heart beat ten times faster.

Then, they made some bets about what’s going to happen during this year’s party, who’s going to get so wasted that they will be forced to perform a walk of shame for months to come. For the whole time, the younger doctor couldn’t shake the feeling that he is studying her.

“What is it? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, I’ve spent too much time with you for my observation skills not to improve insanely. Like it or not, you created a monster.”

“I like to think of it as making the world a better place… nevertheless, I’m impressed, Dr Valentine. For a 3rd year resident your skills are exquisite.”

She put her hand on her heart and smiled. All the compliments she’s ever received in her life faded in comparison to one from Ethan Ramsey. Her high school hero, her inspiration and she still couldn’t quite believe it, the man she was now sharing her life with.

“Now, if you’ll allow me, I must order a cab now, otherwise I may lose a battle soon.”

“What battle?”

Ethan looked at her, lust flooding from his eyes. He quickly stepped behind her and gripped her waist, then leaned into her ear, catching it ever so gently with his lips. This alone was enough for her knees to give out and she was never more grateful for the kitchen island and the fact she was holding onto it for dear life. But he didn’t stop there. He whispered into her ear and no other sounds in the world could compare to the symphony of his voice, dripping with desire.

“The one in my mind, between my rational mind and my primal desire, urging me to rip off this dress and devour you right now.”

Goosebumps spread across her body, a painful reminder of the fact that maybe her mind and mouth could lie to Ethan, but her body couldn’t. Damn it.

She knew it was a matter of milliseconds before she’d be unable to make a rational decision, so she quickly slipped from Ethan’s grip and whispered: “You should order it now then.” Then, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, you’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?”

“Well, that’s only part of the reason. The other, bigger part is that I just really, really want to show up at this party with my insanely hot boyfriend by my side, without finally having to hide and pretend. Unless…he’s ashamed of me.”

“Vic, there are a lot of things in my life that have ‘shame’ and ‘you’ in one sentence. I’m ashamed of running away from you to Amazon. I’m ashamed of denying my feelings for so long. I’m ashamed of hurting you, more than once. But to have you by my side, to finally call you mine? That’s my greatest pride. Now, shall we?” He offered her a wide smile and his arm.

“You asshole. First, you try to seduce me and then you make me cry. Let’s go then, Naveen is going to kill us. I promised we’re only gonna be fashionably late.”

———————

The party was already bustling when they arrived, the room filled with chatter of many guests in attendance. The event was Naveen’s pride and a tribute to his many years as one of the most important figures in today’s medicine. It was almost like Elton John’s Oscars after party - everyone wanted to be there. Being there made Vicky feel special, but more than that, uneasy - she was still just a resident and somehow felt like she didn’t belong there. At least, not yet.

In the background, the string quartet played classical versions of popular songs and carols. The venue was impressive, located within one of Boston’s most prestigious hotels, whose owner was Naveen’s - obviously - long time friend.

The second Dr Banerji spotted them, he practically ran in their direction, almost bumping into one of the guests.

“Well well, if this isn’t my favourite pair of doctors. Dr Valentine, you look like you walked out of one of Botticelli’s paintings.”

“Enough with the formalities. I’m so happy to see you, Naveen! Merry Christmas.” She hugged the old doctor tightly and although initially surprised by this display of affection, he instantly relaxed and returned the hug.

“Merry Christmas, my dear.”

“It’s quite something, this party of yours Naveen. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Why, thank you. You know what my favourite part is?” He locked arms with the younger doctor and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “This party satiates my hunger for gossip for months to come. And I’m pretty sure this evening will be, for many reasons, unforgettable. Enjoy your evening, my friends, I shall see you around.”

Naveen winked at Vicky and Ethan felt like there was some sort of unspoken agreement between them, one that he wasn’t a part of.

“What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“I know you and I know Naveen. Something is off here.”

“Ethan Ramsey, are you jealous? FYI, I don’t fancy older men. Oh no, wait. I totally do.” She was trying really hard to stay serious, but failed miserably.

“Very funny, Valentine.”

“Sorry Gramps. This one you were totally asking for.”

“I’m gonna go get us some real drinks, I need to hydrate myself heavily if I’m to survive the evening.”

“Don’t cloud your judgement too much, Ethan. You may need it.”

Maybe he was imagining the whole exchanging looks thing between Vicky and Naveen. But now he was certain she’s hiding something. And he intended to find out what it is or he was not Dr Ethan Ramsey.

After he fetched them the drinks, they found their seats and soon Naveen made his annual speech, summarising the whole year and thanking tons of people. Vicky loved experiencing Naveen as a speaker, he didn’t have Ethan’s commanding presence, but his years of experience and sincerity in his voice made everyone listen with absolute silence.

He then joined them at the table. Of course he sat us with him, Ethan thought.

“Naveen, if you think I’m going to be your source of hospital gossip, think again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t spend as much time in the hospital together and I miss my dear friends.”

Before he was able to respond, Vicky pinched his thigh under the table and sent him a murderous look.

“We miss you too, Naveen. Now, why don’t you two catch up properly, whilst I’m gonna go and do my round of talks, there are a couple of people I wanted to chat with.”

“Sure, feed me to the lions, Vic.”

“When have you become such a drama queen, Ethan? If I wanted to feed you to the lions, you’d be standing over there.” She pointed her finger to the corner of the room, where some big pharma executives were enjoying themselves. She waved friendly in their direction, and they responded in kind.

“Alright gentlemen, I need to run before they catch me.”

Before she turned around, her and Naveen shared meaningful looks, but before Ethan had a chance to ask, she was already gone. Plus, Naveen changed the subject and the two immersed themselves in a very interesting conversation, which reminded Ethan how much he liked his mentor, not as a doctor, but genuinely as a human being. This made him one of a few people Ethan truly liked.

Dr Ramsey was one of those people who, when they were focused - whether on the case, on the conversation or on watching an opera - dedicated their attention entirely to said activity. Which was probably the reason why the sounds coming from the stage took him by surprise. He didn’t realise that the string quartet had been replaced by a group of young people, who started playing more lively.

No longer than 30 seconds later, someone started singing, but the voice was not coming from the stage. It was coming from behind. Suddenly, all the guests turned their heads around as one.

The snow's coming down

I'm watching it fall

Lots of people around

Baby please come home

The angelic voice belonged to a beautiful girl in a black gown. She sat on a bar stool, side-facing everyone. Suddenly, she jumped from the seat and started walking towards the stage, each step sensual.

The church bells in town

All ringing in song

Full of happy sounds

Baby please come home

Ethan must have looked like an absolute idiot, because he sat there gaping like a fish.

They're singing "Deck The Halls"

But it's not like Christmas at all

'Cause I remember when you were here

And all the fun we had last year

Once on the stage, she owned both the stage and the crowd. Some people started dancing, others clapped to the rhythm and sang with her. When she finished and took a bow, the audience applauded her generously.

“Good evening everyone. I’m Vicky and I’m a doctor at Edenbrook Hospital. Thank you for organising this amazing event, Naveen, and thanks for having me. And now, please meet these amazing musicians, whom I have the honour of calling my friends. Back in high school we formed a band, which we called Valentine’s Day… that was a very accurate name on many levels.” She chuckled and the crowd followed.

“You are looking at people who never gave up on their dreams and now play in some amazing venues. I couldn’t be more proud of them. It would have been the same for me, most likely, if it wasn’t for a book, which I’m sure a lot of you ladies and gentlemen are familiar with. It’s called Diagnostics Principles. After I read it, nothing was the same. And here I am, all these years later, getting covered in blood and sweat almost every day. But today, I can at least bask in the glory of the amazing people standing here with me.”

“I’d like to dedicate this next song to the author of the above mentioned book. He changed my life in more ways than he can realise. And although I promised him we will not exchange any Christmas presents, I haven’t spent any money on this one, so technically it doesn’t count, right?” She earned another amused reaction from the crowd.

“It’s my favourite Christmas song and I’m so honoured to be able to sing it for you.”

The subtle sounds of a piano reverberated in the room and she started singing, her voice pure and powerful.

O Holy night

The stars are brightly shining

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth

Ethan couldn’t move or breathe. He just stared, completely transfixed.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

'Til He appears and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

To hear her singing was one thing. To feel all the things the act was doing to him, was completely different. With every sound produced by her vocal cords, a new, overwhelming sensation was born inside of him.

Fall on your knees

O hear the Angel voices

O night divine

O night when Christ was born

O night divine

O night

Oh night divine

Their eyes locked and she sent him a look so full of affection that he felt a warm tear flowing down his cheek.

For him, it was anything but watching a performance. It was a spiritual experience. Towards the end of the song, she hit the notes so high, that he couldn’t help but look around the room. Everyone was in awe of her. And he was never prouder to call her “his”.

After the last bits of instruments resonated, the guests gave her a standing ovation. Ethan clapped his hands so hard that they hurt. He even whistled on his fingers which he hasn’t done since high school. To hell with it, he thought.

And then he ran, knowing that in a second he will not be able to squeeze through the crowd of admirers. He scooped her in his arms and kissed her with so much passion that she felt dizzy.

“Wow, that was different.”

“What do you mean?”

“The kiss, it felt different.”

“There are so many things I want to say right now, but I can’t do it here. How much longer do we have to stay?”

“I promised the guys I will sing a couple more songs with them and then I wanted to introduce you and have a drink together. After that, we’re free to go.”

“Deal.”

——

“My feet are killing me. I don’t know how I survived in those heels, but I’m walking barefoot for the next 2 days.”

“How fitting since I’m not going to let you out of this apartment until we have to go back to work.”

“I’m gonna go get changed in my PJ’s”

“Ah, not that soon.” Ethan said with a devilish smile and then approached her, reaching for her hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Although I’m tempted to say no to Dr Ramsey just to prove a point, I could never say no to Ethan.” She took a bow and gave him her hand.

“Lucky me. I just wanted to dance with you away from the prying eyes. For the whole evening everyone stared at you. I’m a selfish man and I was counting the minutes until I have the view all to myself.”

The sounds of Something by The Beatles started seeping from a glamorous gramophone.

“The Beatles? I didn’t take you for the type who’d listen to them.”

“Frank Sinatra christened this song the ‘greatest love song ever written.’ And who am I to argue with him?”

For a moment they swayed in silence, cheek to cheek. Then, the older doctor leaned back and looked her straight in the eye.

“So, you are not great at keeping promises, are you?” He mumbled playfully.

“You mean the “let’s not exchange gifts” thing? I stand by what I said earlier, I haven’t spent a dime on it, so it doesn’t count.”

“It’s funny that you don’t even begin to realise how wrong you are.” He was very serious but there was a rare gentleness in his voice. “First of all, you mentioned you had a band in high school and that you sang but you never told me that you practically traded being a music star for being a doctor.” She blushed shyly at the compliment.

“Secondly, when you sang, I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard and I consider myself an audiophile.”

“Coming from you, this is officially the biggest praise ever. I will have this printed and framed. You may even get an autograph if you play your cards right.”

“Shut up, I haven’t finished. You can ruin the moment later.” Ethan playfully swatted her arm.

“With you, I am discovering parts of myself I never knew existed. And I’m strangely content with this. So, to sum up, all of the above makes me feel very guilty that I didn’t get you anything.”

“Ethan, you don’t have to give me anything. But it’s funny you said that, because you don’t even begin to realise how wrong you are.” She was proud of herself for being able to use his own words as a counterargument.

“Actually, you gave me the biggest gift yesterday: a real part of you. I’m guessing, actually it’s more than a guess, that this is not something you shared with many people.”

“I haven’t shared this with anyone.”

“And that’s the biggest gift I could ever ask for. I want to be the person who helps you carry the cross, no matter how heavy it is.”

He pressed her even tighter against his chest and rested his chin on her head. But he felt the need to express all the other things his words couldn’t, so he gently lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted and smelled divine. On a very basic level, she smelled like coconut and mango.

To him, she smelled like spring, summer, autumn and winter. Like a promise of sun after the storm. Like home. Ethan finally found his home, his safe haven.

The kiss made her feel dizzy again and then she remembered.

“So, the kiss. It feels different. Why?” She looked at him so innocently it almost made him sweat. Ethan cupped her cheek as if he was holding the most precious thing in his palm… and for him, he was.

“When you were singing for me, I made a promise. From now on, whenever I kiss you, I want to make it feel like it’s the last time, but also a promise of the million more kisses we will share. Merry Christmas, Vicky.”

“Merry Christmas, Ethan.”

***************************

If you made it this far, from the bottom of my heart - thank you & you are awesome! I wish you all the best in 2021, let’s hope it’s a better year for us all :)

#open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #cfwc winter season

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honeyhan-123 · 5 years ago

Text

Neon Red

Summary: Feeling the failure of not being able to defeat Thanos, Steve longs to feel something else, anything else, and so he finds himself as a patron at The Golden Circle where our reader (known as Kitty by customers) is a dancer.

Warnings: Dark!Steve, Stripper!Reader, stalking, male masturbation, dubcon/noncon.

Word Count: 4.5k

AN: I’m so sorry there isn’t a Say Thank You update this weekend but please enjoy a slutty oneshot, it’s also a little spin off from the Project Legacy fic (you don’t have to read it to read this.) I would also love to thank @castedcaricaturesfor betaing this fic for me and @iwantutobehapppier and @omega-nicole for giving me their opinions about an issue I had.

My Masterlist

The neon red sign above the door reflected in Steve’s blue eyes as he stood, staring up at it, hesitating as he stood out on the street. He knew if his ma were still here that she would kill him if she ever found out he was about to enter an establishment like the ‘Golden Circle’ but that was exactly why he was doing it. She wasn’t here. No one was anymore.

For once in his life Steve Rogers wanted to feel something, wanted to give into his more carnal instincts. And so here he was, wondering if he had gotten enough cash out of the ATM across the street, wearing a dark blue baseball cap pulled low over his brow, praying that no one would recognise him.

Yet as he pushed open the heavy door and was greeted by the sickly sweet scent of the club, he realised his fears had been for nothing, hardly anyone spared him a glance, too enraptured with the dancer who was up on the podium. Even though it was a bit of a darker atmosphere than what he was used to, Steve liked it. He liked the dim red lighting - from where it originated he couldn’t tell - the plush brown leather booths, the mahogany bar behind which there was an alcohol cabinet that could rival Tony’s. It was modernised sure, but it reminded him of something that he might have seen back in his own time if he had dared do something so salacious and he knew that he had made the right call by coming here.

Straying a little further from the stage, he sat in one of the lone leather high backed chairs, hands running down his thighs, a little unsure of what to do as he surveyed his surroundings, barely even glancing at the woman on the stage. A server came over, holding a tray with one hand as she lent down, practically pushing her chest into Steve’s bearded face and while he appreciated the view of her scantily clad nipples, he wasn’t all that invested.

‘What can I get you handsome?’ Her voice was wrong, it was too much, too overt in its sexuality.

‘Just a scotch thanks.’ Even though he wasn’t interested he still slipped a twenty from his wallet, tucking it into the scrap of material that were her panties. ‘Keep the change.’ She smiled, her eyes seeming to eat him up before she turned and walked away, swaying her hips intoxicatingly.

The dancer on the stage finished her set, a raucous applause following as she made her way around the crowd, collecting tips from greedy hands. Steve’s scotch was set down next to him and he thanked the waitress as a voice cut through the applause.

‘Once again that was the gorgeous Glitter! Isn’t she just stunning? For those interested she does private shows too, just her and whatever lucky bugger in our lounges. Send an inquiry if interested.’ There was a pause in which Steve considered what the MC had said. Private shows, maybe that’s where he should be. But not with her, no. She wasn’t quite right.

‘Next up, is the sensational Kitty! Gentlemen please give her a very warm welcome.’ Steve's gaze was at once pulled back to the stage as the deep red velvet curtain parted, revealing her.

Immediately he knew. He knew she was the one. He watched enticed as she performed, her body twisting and twirling through the air with a sense of grace - of elegance - that the others just hadn’t held. For the first time since it had happened, he felt himself get hard, achingly hard. The desire to reach into his pants growing with every second that his eyes drank up her form.

He could almost pretend that it was only him, that he was the only one in the room with her, that she was dancing just for him. He didn’t necessarily care about the other men watching her because he knew, deep down, that she was his. It didn’t matter that she didn’t even know him or that he had only just seen her, she was his for now and forever more.

He waited until her dance was over, pulling a handful of twenties from his wallet and this time when she sashayed across the crowd for tips, his greedy hands joined the others. Swiftly tucking the money into the black silk, just above her vee. He relished in the way her eyes grew larger as she caught sight of the amount he had given, the way they had followed his deft fingers from her panties and up his arm before coming to rest on his face.

‘Thank you.’ Just those two words had Steve ready to cum right then and there. Her voice was so soft and delicate, just what he had been looking for all this time.

‘You’re welcome Doll.’ He fell in love with her smile, not that fake one she had worn when she was dancing, but the real one she wore now, her teeth gleaming in the dim lighting.

‘I-’

She was interrupted by a portly man calling her name, taking her attention away from him as the man gestured to her to come to him. Pausing slightly, she turned back to Steve but he raised his hands, a smile on his face.

‘Go. I need to head off anyway.’ He tried to make his voice as easygoing as he could, not wanting to let her know the dark thoughts plaguing his mind. She smiled at him once more before turning on her heel and crossing the room to who Steve could only assume was the manager of the establishment, his eyes following every sway of her hips until she led from the room and out of sight.

Stretching out his muscles, he stood from the leather chair, leaving a twenty underneath his now empty glass before pulling his cap further down his brow and heading out of the building, his phone in his hand as he searched Stark’s database for just who this angelic Kitty really was.

It really hadn’t been that hard to find her, the real Kitty. Ten minutes of searching had given him her real name, her address, her credit history, her family backstory. Camped out on the roof across from her apartment Steve chided Stark’s technology. In the wrong hands it could be quite dangerous, having such easy access to anyone’s personal details.

But it was fine, he was here to protect her now.

He waited up on that cold roof for nearly two hours until a cab came by, stopping just outside the crummy apartment complex. Even in the dim light emanating from the streetlights, his Kitty seemed to glow, shining bright and beautiful like an angel. He watched as she let herself in, a few minutes passing before the light to her apartment flickered on. He blessed the fact that she hadn’t drawn the blinds, thinking herself safe, tucked away on the twelfth floor. She gave him an uninterrupted view of her apartment, of how she wandered from the cramped kitchen/living room into her even smaller bedroom, disappearing briefly into the bathroom before emerging in only a towel, her wet hair cascading down her back, sticking to her smooth skin.

For the second time since the snap had happened, Steve felt his pants grow tight, the need to feel something, anything, overtaking him. He adjusted his perch on the roof, making sure he still had a good visual of the bedroom as his hand dipped down, briskly undoing his belt and pulling himself from his jeans.

He watched as her towel dropped to the floor, the fluffy white cotton kicked aside, revealing her body to him. Despite the fact that he had practically already seen it in the club, he couldn’t hold in the groan it caused, his hand wrapping around himself and pumping furiously as the pretty girl in the window got ready for bed.

‘Hey Kitty, he’s back. Again.’ You tried to hold in the smile Glitter’s words caused, the jealousy barely concealed, but you couldn’t blame her. Whoever he was, he wasn’t like the other men who frequented the ‘Golden Circle’ in a lot of ways. He wasn’t sleazy like the others, his hands - while they did occasionally linger - never groped bits of flesh as they slipped twenty dollar bills into the thin straps of your outfits and although he never took off the dark blue baseball cap, making it near impossible to see his face, you could tell he was attractive, his biceps bulged and his thick thighs looked like the most comfortable seat in the world.

While his continual presence did make you slightly uneasy, it also gave you butterflies, seeing his eyes always fixated on you, even when you weren’t the one on stage. He barely spared a glance at the other girls despite them trying their best efforts to draw his attention. He only wanted you. His presence made you not care about never booking a session in the Lounge because while the increased pay of a private show would have been nice, he was always by the mainstage, plus his tips were always far too generous.

Your heart raced with the typical pre-show jitters, incensed by the fact you knew he was out there, waiting for you and when your music started you took a deep breath, fully transitioning into Kitty, the cheeky dancer, before stepping out on stage. Like usual, your eyes flitted around the club, searching for him and when you finally found him, sitting towards the back, you made sure to give him your cheekiest smile.

‘Let’s give it up for our resident cheeky little Kitty Cat!’ You barely heard the obnoxious voice of Mike the club’s MC, opting instead to go to your happy place. When you had first started at the ‘Golden Circle’ it had been hard to zone out from the leering and drunken men but reflecting back to your days as a ballerina had helped. Although it was now a completely different style of dance, pretending that you were on stage in your pretty pink pointe shoes performing for your family had given you the peace of mind you needed to get up on stage every night.

Now however, your happy place had a much different setting. You were still up on stage, yet it was a smaller stage, a plush leather couch at the base of it, the walls lined with a deep red velvet, casting a sensual appearance over the room. Instead of a crowd full of strangers, you only performed for one man, a glass of whisky in his hand and a blue baseball cap pulled low over his brow as he watched you.

You knew it was wrong, dangerous even, to fantasise about a client like that, but it was what helped get you through the grueling shifts and with the way he watched your every move, you didn’t think he would mind.

As your dance came to an end, you did your usual rounds, sitting in a few laps, having your flesh groped as tips were slid into your red bodysuit. As always, you saved him for last, finally wandering over to his couch, your smile not as fake as it had been.

‘Well hi-ya stranger.’ You joked as you neared, and you thought that you just might’ve died when you heard his responding chuckle, one of his rare smiles gracing his lips.

‘Doll, I don’t think we’re strangers at this point.’ You smiled as he leaned forward, his hand slipped down between your breasts to place a couple of bills there. You were surprised when his other hand crept up behind you, gingerly wrapping itself around your waist. ‘So, I was thinking… How about a dance sugar?’ Your eyebrows raised on their own accord, your surprise evident. Despite how often he came into the club, he had never asked for a dance. The only time that he had come close was when he had asked you offhandedly, if you minded being the one to serve him his drinks when you were on duty. Although you had felt guilty about keeping him to yourself you had gladly agreed, how could you not?

When you realised that he was still waiting, you snapped out of your reverie. ‘Of course Darling, anything for you.’ Despite how full your body suit was, you didn’t want to keep him waiting, so you stalked around behind him, beginning your routine as you slid your hands down his chest, your lips coming to his ear.

Most of the time doing by-stage dances you found yourself having to grit your teeth, barely able to keep down the bile yet as you danced for your stranger the smile on your face was a hundred percent genuine.

‘You know, I feel kind of bad. We spend all this time together, yet I don’t even know your name.’ He shuddered as you whispered into the shell of his ear, being sure to brush your lips against the soft, supple skin.

‘I’m Steve.’ His voice was rough as he spoke, his adam’s apple bobbing, drawing your attention.Your hands danced back up his chest, smoothing out his shirt as you walked back around, being sure to keep one hand on him.

‘Well it’s nice to have a name to put to my favourite patron.’ Your hand wrapped around his neck, gripping onto the dark blonde locks as you nudged his feet further apart with your heels, sliding into the new space between them.

‘Your favourite patron huh?’ You loved the prideful tone that rang through his voice as you leaned down, pushing your chest towards him.

‘Of course Sweetheart, how could you not be?’ Your hands trailed down his chest once more, dancing below his belt line, skirting the growing bulge to trace the tracks of the rough denim coating his thighs. From here your arms could squeeze your breasts together as you leaned over them, the stray hairs of his beard nearly touching the red satin cups and just as you thought he would lose control and lean into the soft skin, you whipped around. You swiveled your hips as you moved your hands up your body, raising one leg first and setting it down outside of his knee and then doing the same with the other before squatting, just above his lap.

Your hips moved in a figure eight motion, slowly getting closer and closer to where he clearly wanted you to be. Looking back over your shoulder at him you spoke. ‘Tell me Steve, tell me how badly you want it.’

His groan was audible as you continued to tease, never quite touching him where he needed. ‘So badly baby girl. You have no fucking clue. I need you so badly.’ With his groaned words, you finally lowered yourself down onto him sending him a cheeky wink as you did so.

Despite the clubs firm no touching rule, you allowed his hands to rest on your hips as you moved them, your own reaching back and hooking around his neck, giving yourself some leverage. ‘Do you like that Stevie? Does that feel good?’

He didn’t answer your questions verbally, but the way he thrusted his hips up against yours was a clear enough response. You continued moving against him, letting his hands force you down harder on his crotch, letting him use you as he chased his orgasm. ‘God… Fuck Doll. You make me feel so fucking good. Yes…’ His words were a jumbled mess as he came closer and closer and you felt his hands dance up your body to squeeze your tits.

You knew you should pull away, knew it was wrong to let a customer touch you like that, but the way his groans were ringing through your ears was addictive. In that one moment, the only thing you wanted to achieve was getting this man off, whatever that meant doing.

He rolled your pert nipples between his fingers, rubbing you through the smooth satin as he moaned. ‘Yes, that’s it Doll, I’m so fucking close. Oh god, fuck, Doll. Make me cum baby, make me fucking cum.’ You moaned with him as you moved your hips up and down his crotch and you smiled as you felt his thighs tense beneath you, a long loud moan coming from him that almost covered the sound of satin tearing.

Your hips stopped moving as you looked down, barely registering through your shock the gaping rip down your body suit. You jumped out of his lap, trying to keep the material against your chest as you stared down at him, wanting to scream.

‘Fuck, I’m so sorry Doll. I didn’t mean to. I was just holding it and then when I - it just ripped. I’m so sorry, here. Take my jacket back to the changing room.’ You pursed your lips, trying to refrain from showing your anger, knowing the tips would be better if you could make it back to the dressing rooms before the curses started spilling from your lips. He held out a smooth brown leather jacket and you murmured a thanks as you slipped it on, barely registering the obscene amount of money he slipped into your hand before you turned on your heel, disappearing down the corridor, and edgy feeling creeping its way inside you.

Steve didn’t need to return to the club the next night to know he had messed up. There was a clear no touching policy and he had not only done that but he’d ruined your suit and your trust. He had seen it in the way you had barely smiled as he gave your jacket and then later how you had given it to one of the other girls to give back to him.

By the time he had realised you weren’t coming out for your floor shift, you had already left and when he finally got to your apartment, he was disappointed to see your blinds drawn shut. He had taken his frustrations out on a nearby trash can, cursing himself for losing your trust. You were the one thing in this fucked up world that made him actually feel something and just like with Thanos, he had fucked up and just like with Sam and Bucky, he had lost you too.

But he hadn’t… not really. You were still here, you could still be his. He just might have to change his approach a little. It could still work.

The next night Steve waited anxiously on the plush leather couch, admiring the velvet walls as the minutes ticked by. It hadn’t been long enough that he was worried you weren’t going to show, but he was impatient. He wanted, no, needed to see you again, to feel you rub against him as you drew him to his orgasm. Despite the terrible way the night had ended, the orgasm you had brought out had felt so good, it had been his best ever and he had cursed himself for those few seconds before he realised what had happened for not requesting a dance earlier.

When he had first discovered your apartment and your tendency to leave your blinds open he had thought that would be enough, that sitting up on that cold and lonely roof with his fist wrapped around his cock would be enough. But it wasn’t, and now, he had a taste for more.

He heard the click of heels through the thick mahogany door and anxiously wiped his hands along his thighs as the wood was pushed open, revealing your silhouette on the other side. He watched as you walked towards the stage, the door closing behind you, stopping just before you got to the platform.

‘Why did you book the Lounge?’ In the silence of the room, your whisper sounded like a scream.

‘I wanted to apologise, plus, I need to see you again. And I figured this way, we could talk.’ You scoffed at his words.

‘Talk?’ You mocked, laughing as you spoke. ‘You men never want to just talk. I thought… I don’t know what I thought but I know that I’m sick of it. So now you have two options, you can either leave or I can call security and have you escorted out. It’s your choice.’

Steve felt his mouth go dry, he couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t allow it. ‘Doll please… you don’t want to do that. Please don’t do that to me.’ You ignored his warning, reeking of his desperation, but before you could open your mouth to scream, he had lunged from the couch, his arms wrapping around you, one securing your back to his chest, the other clamped over your mouth.

‘I told you not to do that Doll.’ You writhed in his arms trying to twist away from him to no avail. The small groan that escaped his lips disgusted you as he sat down on the stage, pulling your hips against his. ‘Be a good girl for me, please Doll. You have no idea how much I need this.’ Your scathing response was made unintelligible by his hand as his other dipped into the sparkling blue skirt you had on, pushing the matching panties to the side as he swiped a finger along your slit.

His breathing was heavy in your ear as his fingers swirled around your lips, gathering the slick that was beginning to pool. ‘See Doll, you want this too. I know you do. Fuck, I’ve seen it with my own eyes how you would dance just for me, even in that crowd of men.’ Your muffled protests turned into hesitant moans as he entered you with two fingers, his thumb pressing down on your clit. ‘That’s it, that’s a good girl. Just sit back and enjoy it, doesn’t it feel good?’

Your hands clutched at his thighs, your head resting on his shoulder as you gave in, your hips twisting against his hand, riding it on their own accord. His fingers scissored inside of you, curling themselves against your walls as his thumb rubbed your pearl frantically. You didn’t miss the growing bulge beneath you but you could barely form a coherent thought as he pulled you to the edge.

‘That’s it Doll. Just let go for me, I know you’re close.’ You hadn’t realised when his hand had drifted down from your mouth to rest on your throat, but the gentle restriction had you seeing stars, screaming silently as you convulsed in his arms, letting go for him.

You watched in silent horror as he lifted his hand from your mini-skirt and raised it to his lips, moaning around the thick digits. ‘You taste better than I ever could have imagined, I can’t wait to feel you.’ You shuddered against his thick chest and gasped as he flipped you around, your chest pressing against the cold hard wood of the stage.

You yipped as he pulled down the skirt and panties, exposing your heated centre to the cool air, a moan coming from him along with the clink of a belt buckle. You tried to worm your way out of his arms even though you knew it was worthless trying, he was far stronger than you.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt him, sliding along the slick that he had caused, coating himself in it before coming to your entrance and pausing for a brief moment. You barely dared to hope that he would pull away and yet when you felt him slowly sinking into your heat, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Of course he would just do what he wants.

‘Oh god… Doll… Fuck.’ You felt the stretch of your walls as he eased in, pain shooting through you from just how big he was. You lay helpless on the stage’s edge as he began pushing in and out of your cunt, groaning obscenities as he did so. One of his hands dipped down, between you and the stage to swipe over your pearl teasingly.

‘That’s it baby, you feel so fucking good, taking my cock so well.’ Your heavy breaths filled the air as you tried, and failed, to maintain your composure. Sweat was coating your skin as he thrusted, your knees rubbing themselves raw against the plush carpet. The familiar tightening ricocheted through your body you came close, your toes curling in apprehension, only to uncurl moments later when he pulled you from the stage, flipping you over and pushing your legs up, above your head.

The carpet was rough against your bare back but the new angle was worth the pain, being able to feel him fill you so completely was worth it. His full lips covered yours, his tongue meeting yours halfway as moans tumbled from your mouth into his and vice versa.

His hips were unforgiving as they pounded into you, filling you to the brim and hitting that special spot with every thrust. It wasn’t long before he brought you back to the edge, clearly reading the desperation for release written all over your body.

‘Cum for me baby, cum on my cock.’ Your responding scream was lost into his hand, clasping over your mouth once more as your walls fluttered, clenching around him. His hips stuttered, his thighs tensed and he thrusted as deeply as he could as he came inside you, hot white ribbons coating your walls and groans filling the room.

He rode out his orgasm, the obscene sounds emanating from your pussy echoing through the room as your breaths mingled with one another as they slowly calmed down.

You lay, staring up at the man above you, his cap probably having fallen off during your struggle, and you finally recognised him. His beard was full and thick and his hair was much longer than you were used to seeing it but the amount of times your History classes at school had been forced to study him, you would never forget his face.

The recognition must have been clear in your face as he hastily pulled out, his cum seeping down your thighs as he pulled his pants back up, handing you your skirt.

‘St-Steve?’ You couldn’t even be sure the words had left your lips but the way he tensed at the sound told you they had.

‘C’mon Doll, let’s have the conversation somewhere private.’

‘We are somewhere private.’ You argued with the man standing before you, the red light casting a strange aura around him.

‘Yeah, but I’m nowhere near done with you.’ His hand was held out before you and you knew he wasn’t giving you much of a choice so you nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you from ‘the lounge’, pausing to pass you his jacket as you approached the door of the club.

The air outside was cold, unforgiving, as he led you outside, the harsh neon red light of the club slowly being swallowed by the dark night as you walked, hand in hand. To where, you weren’t sure, but you knew it would be wherever Steve needed you to be.

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#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #stripper!reader #captain america #dark!captain america #dark!captain america x reader #marvel #mcu #dark!marvel #dark!mcu #dark!verse #honeyhan writes #q it up

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llamagoddessofficial · 2 years ago

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Sorry, but I must continue the tradition. How are the zoo moth boys in heat?

;)

Some notes I thought of just now- when moth monsters are in heat, their wing patterns glow pretty much all the time, bright enough to be noticed in daylight. It’s a way to both show off to mates and compete with rival moths by displaying that they’re so powerful they can waste all that magic just on aesthetics.

Sans: He’s smilier than usual. He’s also staring much more than usual. During his first heat with her there, she has no idea what’s going on and tries to brush it off, going back to grooming his wings like normal... trying to take no notice of his strange behaviour. When he starts to hum, though, she does get nervous- Red only hums when he’s in his crazy mood and she’s come to associate the sound with a kidnapping attempt.

Since they’re cosying up with one another, he’s singing and she’s grooming him, in his fuzzy head that constitutes her accepting their ‘relationship’. She’s very taken off guard when he, quite suddenly, moves from his usual seat and turns around to face her... then starts fussing her hair, smoothing it and playing with it. What kind of mate would he be if he didn’t reciprocate her grooming? It’s his first time being so bold and it really flusters her.

He gets aggressive if she tries to leave. Why is she leaving, when he’s not done grooming her? Where else could she possibly need to go, when he (her MATE) is right here? Who is she going to? His jealousy rapidly gets too overwhelming for him to hide anymore. If she doesn’t get the memo and keeps trying to pull away, she’ll suddenly find herself wrapped up in all of his arms, very rapidly getting unbearably sleepy. He gets a little high off of seeing her go limp in his grip.

Red: You’d think that if Mc saw him acting strange, she won’t dare go near him. The thing about Sans is he’s usually so well behaved and calm that Mc was probably a bit too willing to put aside the warning signs for her own good- Red, though? If she had a penny for every snatching attempt she’d be able to afford full-time moth therapy for Skull. Red’s a notorious fiend. But the thing is, his heat symptoms are very different to his usual ones; he’s not aggressively snarling or looking at her with crazy eyes, he’s calm and mellowed, he’s purring when he sees her.

It’s all about the nesting, for Red. He makes and re-makes his den in a haze until its absolutely perfect, and then he wait patiently for her to come see him. He’ll princess carry her into his den if she’s being difficult, and then he’ll smother her in blankets and pillows (and nuzzles) until she can’t move, and every trace of the smells of other moths has disappeared.

Red doesn’t even need to expend much physical effort to keep her in the nest. Trying to get out is like trying to crawl out of a pit of foam blocks- every move you make, you fall back in. All he needs to do is catch her foot and drag her back over to him if she makes too much distance. It’s his ideal scenario, really.

Skull: He’s never had a heat before. Before his safety and care at the zoo, he was in such a constant state of confusion and terror that his body was never going to expend all that precious magic on something as frivolous as glowing wings and a shorter temper. He had to concentrate entirely on his own survival.

But now... now he’s got an easy, predictable life. A constant supply of food and water, somewhere he can always go to hide away where no one will follow. Now... why not?

Since its his first ever heat he’s got absolutely no idea how to handle it. His wings are constantly glowing, he hums whenever he thinks about Mc, he’s got energy and confidence he didn’t realise he ever had before.

He literally just picks her up the moment he sees her. She’s totally unprepared, used to his shyness and restraint- but before she knows it she’s tucked under one of his giant arms like a misbehaving sack of potatoes. He spends the whole day just juggling her from arm to arm, going about his business and harassing her with nuzzles whenever he feels like it, never letting her feet touch the ground. Trying to fight Skull’s grip is like trying to win an arm wrestle against a polar bear so she eventually figures she can just let him indulge himself for a little while.

Besides. When she struggles, he finds it unbearably cute, and he just squeezes her even tighter.

#llamagines #moth sanses au #zoo moth sanses au #all of the moths: [want her to sleep/have cuddles/not work all day]#mc: oh no. how terrible. how awful. cant believe it. anyway

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emeraldtawny · 4 years ago

Text

IkeVam Headcanons: Crying Headcanons (Angst)

...I apologise for nothing. This was spawned by some filthy enablers in the IkeVamp Discord server (you all know who you are....love u guys uwu).

Vague structure is as follows: how they would cry and what made them cry. Full steam angst ahead. Enjoy~ ^w^

Napoleon

Life as an Emperor made him establish a stone face; show no weakness or emotion and let no one see you struggling. This led to Napo always bottling up his emotions whenever he felt the need to cry. And he was too good at doing so, people being none the wiser when he bottled up his frustration, his anger, his despair. However, there was a limit, even for him. When his mentality is withered down to nothing and he can’t hold back the tears any longer, his breath will leave him with a choke and a single tear will squeeze out despite itself. He’d hastily wipe it away and attempt to recollect himself, but he’s too tired, too burdened, the faint cacophony of war echoing within his brain like an inescapable terror. Perhaps that’s another reason why he sleeps so much...

Mozart

He would be physical to stop himself from crying when he feels it bubbling up. He'd punch walls, door frames, even his dear piano if there was nothing else close by. But the pain from his punches would only fuel his tears, his face tight with rage and a snarl on his lips, but his eyes sparkling with tears and his eyebrows desperately pulled together. He’d be cursing at himself as he felt the first tear fall, his self-berating words only growing into a crescendo in his ears as he fights with - and loses to - himself. He’ll probably clench his fists enough to cut his palms with his nails. His reason for crying? Simply put, he feels worthless, he doesn't feel improvement in his music despite others' praise.

Leonardo

None would consider the Renaissance genius an emotional man, even in private. And he is well aware of this stigma people have crafted for him and has since molded to it himself. Leo would be able to school his features perfectly so no one knows he's upset (except Comte of course). When MC falls asleep cuddled up sweetly against his chest and he knows she's out, he lets a soft, choked sigh escape and finally lets a few tears out, stroking her hair softly as he does so. He lies there just....dwelling on her existence, knowing her not being as long for this world as him and it weighs on him so much that sometimes he just needs to cry. But he'll only do it in front of MC when she sleeps, so she won’t see him at his weakest. He doesn’t think he could bear it.

Arthur

He would try to smile and play it off that he’s fine when he cries, even though the smile would be shaky at the edges as his lips tremble and he tries to blink back his tears. MC would just watch the collapsing of his smile, his mental state, his resilience; she would be watching a man fall apart. Tears collect in his eyes, but they wouldn’t fall until he does first, his knees collapsing and him hunching over himself as he digs the heels of his palms directly into his eyes. His breaths would be shaky, shallow and he’d be whispering countless choked apologies and baseless self-deprecating remarks of himself. He’s sinking into the black, inky depths of his own mind and even when he wails, even when he screams for release, it all feels hopeless. How he survived without MC there to pull him back from the brink of himself, he does not know. But he’s thankful for it every time, without fail.

Vincent

He may be akin to a doll and when he cries it's with the same beauty, but more in the way of if you saw an actual doll crying; unsettling and spine-chilling. For him, it'd feel like his blood stopped pumping, his body stopped responding to him. He knows that he's crying, but he can't wipe away his tears, can't lift his hands to cover his eyes, can't open his mouth to wail; nothing. His mind is screaming though, and it screams so loud that it drowns out everything else. His baby blue eyes are more striking with a thick ring of red outlining them and his bottom lip quivering like a frail fallen leaf, the faint taste of salt on his tongue from the tears streaming without obstacle down his face and past his open lips. Years of repressed and unknown emotions mean that when he cries, he cries until he physically can't anymore and needs to sleep it off. And when he wakes up? He doesn't remember a thing.

Theodorus

Theo would be pretty physical like Mozart, but just in a more violent yet shorter outburst. He might have thrown a vase to the ground with a groaned yell and shattered it into pieces, his fists clenched tight and his chest heaving with heavy breaths, as if the air was viscous and unyielding in its oxygen. The adrenaline subsides and he just sees the room around him submerge in water. When MC runs in frantically and worriedly asks what's wrong, he pulls her into a death grip embrace and rasps out to stay still and not look at him. She'll comfort him until he loosens his grip enough for her to hug him back and he'll keep his head buried in her shoulder. His cries are shaky exhales and the rogue tear that seeps into her blouse goes purposefully unnoticed by her for his own sake. His reason? The art world is shit, obstacles at every turn, and even Theo ain't strong enough to deal with that every day without fail.

Dazai

He would keep smiling through his crying until his face basically collapses into one big sob...and then, silent crying. Not a whisper of sound; no sudden intake of breath or rasped exhale. Just a man standing there with his head hung low and his mauve bangs masking the glassy, lifeless expression of long-established despair on his face. Tear streaks run down his cheeks and tears hang off of his lashes with his gold irises accentuated by his reddened eyes, yet not one ounce of emotion can be seen - can be felt - emanating from him. He just feels overwhelming moments of despair and nothingness at very frequent times. Most times, he can handle it; it’s what he knows, daresay what he’s comfortable with. But sometimes the stress of...life is just too much. Oddly fitting for a man who wants to die but can't.

Isaac

Despite his best efforts, when Isaac gets too upset to handle, he becomes extremely volatile. He would collapse to his knees and hold his chest with a pained expression. His eyes would be open, wide with fear, as he physically feels the sob bubbling within his chest and rising into his throat like a lump of lead. Moments pass in agony until he lets out a strained sob that rips from his throat and sends a dull yet prevalent pump of blood to his head, a moment of dizziness passing over him. After that, he quietly cries, curled into himself and resting his head atop his clenched hands, letting the tears soak into his skin, hoping - praying - that the pain will stop. If he happens to be in a public space when he gets overwhelmed with emotion, he’ll be quick to extrapolate himself and hide away in a secluded spot, crying with short, almost hyperventilating breaths and whispering “I’m okay, I’m okay” over and over.

Jean

The type to have the most guttural sobs where his throat is ragged and dry, and his breaths heave with effort. He would bottle it up until his vision physically blurs, his tears lining his eyes and obscuring his vision, and he would run to an isolated place if he wasn’t there already. Every time he cries, he hears swords clashing, groans of pain; every drop of blood, sweat and tears of Jean’s falls for those who have fallen for him. A growl of pain wretches from his throat and his fist collides with the nearest wall. He rests his back against the same wall and lets his feet slip out from under him as he sinks to the floor, glaring with frustration at the ceiling until the storm clouds clear from his conscience.

Shakespeare

Shakes would seem to be the type that doesn't realise he's crying until he feels it or until someone points it out. But what if he was well aware that he was crying? But his smile would look so natural and out of place to his blood and gold eyes shimmering with tears that no one would know whether to approach him over the situation or not. It’s like the boy who cried wolf; no one would know he’s actually in pain because all they see is deceit. So when he feels his heart finally begin to pump with pain, he wears a smile even when his own eyes betray him. When he has a moment to himself, he'll dab his eyes calmly with his handkerchief, all the while biting on his tongue - hard enough to bleed - to stop any unbecoming sounds escaping him. He'll massage his closed eyelids to recollect himself and return to business as usual. Sometimes, even Shakes doesn’t know why he has these moments, his memories too repressed to remember the reason for his own tragedy.

Comte de Saint-Germaine

Like the other immortal, he presents himself in a way to suggest crying being a foreign sensation to him and, when he does cry, tries to repress it where he can. He at least has more of his head on to know when it's safe to cry; alone or in front of MC. He won't sob, he won't wail. If anything, it'll look like he's the one comforting MC, him holding her head against his chest so she can't see the strain on his face as he desperately holds back his tears. A few will fall - glistening scarlet, tears of immortal blood - and he’ll catch them on the back of his hand to prevent them from staining her hair red. But she won't say a word, simply embrace him back and let him cry in complete silence. Being an immortal vampire with responsibilities and obligations weighing on you every second of your endless life? It’s a miracle that the Comte hasn't broken down more.

Sebastian

Surrounded by his work and with hardly a moment to let his thoughts get the better of them, when Sebas does let his walls down, it will be controlled. He would let out a shuddering breath, his eyelids closing and his breaths forced into and out of his lungs in a controlled manner. Attempting to control his quickly spiraling thoughts, his brows furrow and his hands at work pause. The tightness and anxiety in his chest grows and he allows himself a quiet sob over the sink, before-- Tick tock tick tock. Only a few seconds passed, but they felt too long to Sebastian, his head hanging over the sink. Splashing his face with water and with a few good slaps to his cheeks, he reassures himself that he has no time for this - that if he has time to cry, then he has time to work. With a couple of sniffles to fully rid his body of its lasting bout of sadness, his hands begin to move again to finish preparing dinner. Even the perfect butler needs a moment of reprieve sometimes.

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amjustagirl · 3 years ago

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im so sorry but this is gonna be really long 😭 i know it's a bit late but i just read a sea of flowers in bloom because i got busy while waiting for it to finish (im too impatient to read on going series') and i really need to let this all out. i apologize for bad grammar and vocabulary in advance—im still crying

first i wanna say that you captured all the emotions so well. i cried reading every single chapter (because i was either sad, hurt, or proud). the way you wrote it was so beautifully expressive and described, i couldn't help but hold onto every word you wrote. your writing style never ceases to amaze and enchant me.

moving forward tho, i love how the story really captured how an individual's insecurities and self perception affect how they make their choices and how their relationships play out. i think that's something that's greatly overlooked yet so important to remember (both when evaluating yourself and the actions of others). i also love how you also showcased the importance of communication, not just with your partner/potential partner but also the release of emotions and the troubles we don't notice we have.

you managed to highlight the importance of being open to change and learning how to rely on yourself for happiness and i think you wrote that so beautifully—it felt so real and raw. i was so proud of mc for slowly realizing how much power she holds over her own happiness and it was so realistic how she found the strength to move forward when Kaiyo needed her the most—because that's what a sense of responsibility, indebtedness, and most importantly love does. Their friendship is beautiful and it's wonderfully executed.

i love how you dedicated a whole chapter to how kita feels and his thought process (tho it isn't surprising since you do give both perspectives in all your other stories) and how he came into terms with the fact that he wanted to try—he's going to try because he wants her. i also love how you implied that communication took time for them and how it's a conscious effort on both parts. there's also the fact that they have their own little 'ritual' of saying "It's because you love my voice" for when they need confidence to say what's on their minds,,, ma'am pls u made me cry more with how soft and meaningful that is, how your love for someone will give you courage and confidence because they love something about you or how you do something. it's just so real.

it really is beautifully written story about two people who learn that there's someone out there that will love them for the people that they are.

there's so much more I'd like to say, but i think this is enough for now. Thank you so much for sharing your writing with us, you're truly so talented. I can't wait to read your future work and reread all your other stories! I hope you stay safe always and get a good amount of rest!

much love, yenyen <3

ps. congrats on your new job! go get that raise 😩 still can't believe there are decent bosses in this world tho HAHAHAHA

yenyen! *blows kisses in your direction, gently wipes yr tears away*

right so - pls don't ever apologise for length or grammar or wtv - i love love your ask, and i think i must've read it at least ten times ehehe and i shld be the one to apologise for answering this so late!

i think i started off wanting to write this as a simple love story with the v handsome, v wonderful kita shinsuke, but i just wasn't satisfied with how kita's oftentimes depicted as the perfect man (i mean i personally love reading fics like that - e.g. @inarizahki drabbles never fail to make me hoot and fall in love) and i wanted for my own fic, to delve in deeper, dig into his psyche, his insecurities, his fears. and so while doing that, i developed the reader's own journey, her own fears and insecurities paralleling his, and how their choices make them grow and make their relationship eventually not just possible, but very, very fruitful ;)

hahaha now im worried im gonna be predictable (but i do love writing both perspectives in my fics!! good spot there hoho) but it is so true. marriage has taught me that communication is key, bcos good intentions can only get you so far. it's not an easy thing for either of them to learn, but like you said - their love gives them confidence, their love builds trust, and that little ritual - talk to me, because i love the sound of your voice is just...something that spoke to me and i felt like that would really be the cornerstone of their eventual relationship, because miscommunications really derailed their early friendship and courtship.

and the reader's friendship with kaiyo. y'know i was worried that...i might bore ppl bcos kaiyo is my own character, and we're here to read romance HAHAHA but it's just so impt to me to write women supporting women and healthy female friendships so they really have each other's backs, and it's just such a meaningful moment to me when the reader realises that she's got to buck the fuck up when kaiyo's down for the count and ugh. i love the both of them.

oh gosh i'm glad you love my other works too!!!! i feel like each work of mine in the storm chaser universe is kinda different in tone, but it's just fun tying them all together :)

p.s. yeah like - i didn't know i cld get out there and fight for that raise, and get a healthier work environment with nicer bosses but wanting to pull my weight in my marriage really motivated me HAHAHAHA. fingers crossed it turns out well, but ty for the well wishes bb <3

#Nikki chats!#yenyen<3 #storm chaser universe #a sea of flowers in bloom

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sparring-hyena · 4 years ago

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Can you write a Becca x mc fanfic about Becca having a amnesia after the accident and not remembering falling in love with mc ? And it would be interesting to see Becca still trying to flirt with Chris among other guys and MC getting all jealous and trying to make Becca fall in love with her again 🤣 you can also turn it into a series I think it might be long if you chose to write it

hi, anon! i love all the angst in this idea, so thanks for sending it my way. also, i don’t know if what i wrote is exactly what you wanted. it does check a lot of the boxes, but i think it might be a bit angstier than you were asking for, so i hope that’s okay. it kinda just happened.

Alex has found coping with the last four months easier when she doesn’t think too much about it. she thinks about the events that happened, acknowledges their existence, but refuses to go any deeper than that. it’s easier that way.

“have you talked to someone about it?” Abbie asks as they’re walking to the library. one afternoon “a therapist, maybe?”

“my parents suggested it. but, i dunno, it just feels weird,” Alex says.

“that’s fine, but just make sure you aren’t keeping everything bottled up. even writing stuff down might help.”

Alex smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “i’ll give it a go.” she won’t. “thanks.”

they step into the library and find an empty table along one of the walls.

“how is she?” Abbie asks once they’re both settled in.

Alex feels the question pierce her in the heart. “don’t know,” she says quick and empty, making an effort to keep her gaze fixed on the work in front of her.

“she hasn’t reached out to you?”

“no.”

“Alex...” Abbie’s voice is sympathetic as she reaches across the table to place her hand on Alex’s.

Alex pulls away. “it’s fine, Abbie. can we just-- i’d really appreciate it if we didn’t talk about that.”

“of course.”

and Abbie, true to her word, doesn’t bring it up again. they work in a steady silence for most of the afternoon, only parting when the call for food becomes too great.

“are you sure you don’t want to come over for dinner. i know Kaitlyn’s free tonight; we could have a girls’ night.”

“it’s fine. i’d rather try get an early night. thanks though.”

“anytime.”

Alex dreads the idea of being in her apartment alone, but she also knows that she wouldn’t be able to have a girls’ night and pretend that everything’s fine.

she steps onto her floor and doesn’t notice the person standing by her door until she’s only six or seven feet away. her stomach twists itself into knots and her heart thumps dangerously against her ribcage.

“good, you’re home. i was just about to text you,” Becca says.

Alex feels a slither of hope creep into her heart. hope that Becca remembers. hope that they can go back to what they used to be. hope that they can continue to build their life together.

“i found some stuff while i was moving that i think is yours.” Becca picks up a box Alex had completely missed. “Chris mentioned that you don’t have classes this afternoon, so i figured i’d drop them off.”

“oh. that’s um, that’s really nice of you.” Alex takes the box from Becca’s hands. “how are you?”

“fine. the pain’s gone now, so my doctor cleared me to return to normal activity.”

Alex nods and fishes her keys from her pocket. “so you don’t, like, remember anything then?” she tries to be nonchalant as she speaks, though she can tell from the way Becca pauses and looks at her, that any attempt at nonchalance fails.

“the doctor said i might not,” Becca says a moment later, her voice distant. “it’ll be easier if we can both accept that sooner rather than later.”

“i know,” Alex says, turning the key in the lock. “i’ll see you ‘round?”

“maybe not. it might be better if we stayed apart.”

“oh.”

“yeah.” Becca shifts her weight between her feet and looks around the bland and empty hallway they’re standing in. “goodbye, Alex.” she turns on her heels and leaves.

Alex listens to Becca’s footfalls fade as she gets further and further away. an i love you dies on her tongue.

it’s five months later when Alex sees Becca again. okay, that’s not totally true. Alex has seen glimpses of Beeca around campus in that time—apparently, her and Chris are close again. Alex decides not to think about what that means. but it’s five months after that conversation in front of Alex’s apartment that they’re in close proximity again.

she’s at a club. Kaitlyn and Abbie had dragged her out.

“just for some fun,” Kaitlyn had said.

“you’ve been cooped up in your apartment every night for months. getting out might do you some good,” Abbie had explained.

and Alex hadn’t had the energy to fight them. so now she’s here. in some club with sticky floors, flashing lights, and music that makes her bones shake. they snagged a booth along the back wall, and it was all going fine. they were talking, laughing, having a fun night, and then Alex had glanced to her right and caught a glimpse of Becca and Chris dancing.

“i’m getting a drink,” Alex says, getting up from the booth without waiting for some kind of answer. she pushes her way through the thick crowd and makes her way to the bar, returning to the booth a few minutes later with five shots of tequila on a tray.

“i dunno if i wanna do shots tonight,” Kaitlyn says as she eyes the tray Alex places on the table.

“good, because these are for me.” and then Alex downs each of the shots.

“maybe ease up a bit,” Abbie says. “it’s still early.”

Alex shrugs and disappears to the dance floor. Kaitlyn and Abbie share a concerned look before following after their friend.

Alex tries to forget about Becca. she really does. but it’s hard to do that when she keeps catching glimpses of Becca dancing with Chris. it’s when she sees Becca lean in close to whisper something in a Chris’ ear that Alex turns back to Kaitlyn and Abbie, and says, “i can’t do this,” and then runs out of the club.

she runs and runs and can hear Kaitlyn and Abbie chasing after her, calling for her to stop. she finally does when she’s a few blocks away from the club.

“what happened in there?” Kaitlyn says, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“i saw her. she’s in there dancing with Chris. Chris. and i know i don’t have any right to be pissed or upset, because we aren’t together, and as far as she can remember, we never were together. but i am pissed and i really just want...” Alex trails off and very nearly collapses on the ground.

“want what?” Abbie says.

“her,” Alex says, voice broken and tears in her eyes. “this was a mistake. i shouldn’t have come out tonight.”

when Alex gets home, she crashes into bed and falls into a restless sleep.

Alex closes herself off after that night at the club. she still calls her parents every week. tells them that she’s fine and she’s getting out regularly. she tells her friends that she’s fine, just a lot of assignments to get done. another lie, and a blatant one at that.

it’s a Wednesday night when another change comes. there’s a knock at her door and Alex glances to the clock on the oven. wonders who the hell is at her door at eight o’clock at night. she checks the peep hole and sighs when she sees that each of her friends are standing out in the hall. James and Zig, Kaitlyn and Zack, and Tyler and Abbie. everyone except Becca.

“we know you’re in there, Alex,” James says, not angry or disappointed, just careful and understanding.

“we got you some food,” Kaitlyn this time says, and she even holds up a takeout bag of chinese. she can also see Zig and Zack holding two bags of groceries each.

she lets them. Zig and Zack deposit the groceries in the kitchen and begin putting the food away, and everyone else crowds into the livingroom.

they talk for an hour. they all get up and say their piece, never accusing Alex of doing something wrong. and by the time nine o’clock rolls around, the chinese has been eaten and her friends have convinced Alex to go to dinner at Tyler and Abbie’s on Saturday night.

“Chris, can you hang back for a sec?” Alex says just as everyone is filing out.

Chris smiles and nods. the others leave and then it’s just them left standing in Alex’s too small livingroom. she has no idea what her plan is now that she’s alone with Chris. there’s stuff she wants to say, but she knows she has no real right to. that doesn’t stop her from asking one thing. “please don’t date her. i know you two dated and then i started dating her, so i really have no right to ask that of you. but please... don’t date her.”

Chris smiles, warm and sincere. “i wasn’t going to,” he says, and then he opens his arms for a hug.

Alex easily steps into the embrace and is so glad they stayed friends. they’re so much better as friends.

“we’re only friends,” he says. “she’s just confused about everything and needs someone to talk to. believe me, she’s hurting just as much as you, she’s just doesn’t know it.”

Alex pulls away from the hug and offers Chris a genuine smile as she wipes away the tears she didn’t realise were pooling around her eyes.

“she’s your girl, Alex.”

“no she’s not.” that nearly kills Alex to say, but it’s the truth. the sooner she accepts that, the better. “but thanks anyway.”

Alex doesn’t know why she’s surprised to see Becca at dinner on Saturday night. she’s their friend. it’s good that she came, and it makes Alex smile knowing that Becca hasn’t been totally alone through all of this.

it’s awkward at first. they wind up in the kitchen together, alone, when Abbie ducks out quickly to use the bathroom. they just make small talk until Abbie comes back, and Alex hates that this is what their relationship has been reduced to.

they don’t sit together for dinner though, and Alex counts that as both a blessing and a curse. because she knows that had things been different, they’d have sat beside each other, Alex’s arm thrown over the back of Becca’s chair, and Becca’s hand resting on Alex’s thigh.

and then the night just sort of ends. people leave in pairs or groups of threes, and perhaps by some strange bout of luck, Alex and Becca leave together. it’s completely unintentional, and from the looks Tyler and Abbie are giving her, Alex knows that all she’d have to do is ask, and one of them would walk out with them.

but she doesn’t ask. she doesn’t need to. she’s an adult. she and Becca can ride the elevator to the ground floor and walk out of the building together.

neither of them say a single word for the whole elevator ride. it’s only when they’re standing out on the street, about to go their separate ways, that Becca says something. “kiss me.”

and Alex had absolutely not been expecting that. she stammers out a response: “what?”

“i know you heard me.”

“yeah, but, why?”

“because you love me. and i may not know why you do or how that even happened, but the point is that you do. so show me that you love me, and kiss me.”

Alex can’t really help herself, because Becca looks nothing short of stunning standing in the glow of the street light. and Becca’s asking her to. so she has permission. she’s allowed to kiss her. so she does.

it’s the same but it’s not the same. she tastes the same, smells the same, even kisses the same. but it’s not the same. it’s not the same because they don’t share those important memories--that first time in the sorority, the spring fling, their dates at Uskea, all the nights in each other’s rooms, the whole of last year. they don’t share any of that.

Alex breaks the kiss. “i’m sorry, i can’t. this— it wouldn’t be fair. for you or for me.” she turns away, ready to leave and salvage whatever she can of herself when she gets home.

and then Becca grabs her hand, pulls her back, and kisses her again. and it’s exactly the same as the kiss they just shared, and yet it’s so damn different. Becca’s kissing her like she's desperate, like she’s making up for lost time. then Becca slides her hands down Alex’s back and into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her a little bit closer.

Alex pulls away in surprise, because this is her Becca. the Becca who calls her a dork and a cheeseball, the Becca who slow dances with Alex in the kitchen, and the Becca who slides her hands into Alex’s back pockets when they kiss.

“why’d you pull away?” Becca says, like she’s oblivious to what just happened. but the smile on her face tells Alex that she knows.

“you remember.”

“of course, i remember. how could i not remember after a kiss like that?”

Alex launches herself at Becca and pulls her into a hug. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” Becca squeezes back just as tight.

“we have to tell the others,” Alex says, pulling away to look at Becca again. “they’ll be so happy that you remember.”

“i have a better idea. let’s have one last night where this” —Becca gestures to herself and Alex— “is just ours. no pressure or expectations from everyone else. it’s just you and me. what’d you say, for old times’ sake?”

Alex grabs Becca’s hand with a smile and leads her away.

#becca x mc #playchoices #my writing #becca davenport #request #anon #the freshman #the senior #the junior #the sophomore

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otomeramblings · 4 years ago

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My thoughts on Act 2, Episode 5

Yes, I’m incredibly late to the party. It took me longer than I thought to finally be able to finish reading Ep 5 BUT here it is! I’m gonna try to summarize my initial reactions and how I feel about the main plot points here both for myself and for anyone that wants to read them.

Long post under the cut!

One small thing I want to mention before delving into the big stuff: seeing all the boys starting new stages in their lives was honestly super heartwarming; they’ve grown so much both as individuals and together as a company (and as friends), and it was a delight to see it. As a fan of small details, I loved to see that the conversation Banri and Yuki had in “Into the Night!” (about him taking acting seriously and maybe going to college to bring back the knowledge to the company) was reflected in his choice of going to Veludo Arts University.

But anyway! There’s 3 main things I want to talk about in regards to this episode:

First up is Masumi’s arc:

Hooooo boy, I hadn’t been this angry about a fictional parent since we learned about Misumi’s family. I think the main thing that irked me a lot about his dad was how little regard he seemed to have for his son as an actual human being. Especially because of how hypocritical it sounded when his secretary said stuff like "Mr Usui is concerned about you living without a parental figure for so long" because we all know that Masumi has been living basically on his own for a long time and the excuse of "Masumi has only been living in Japan this long due to his parent's desire to keep his environment as stable as possible while they were married" felt super empty because yeah, right, coming back to an empty home every day is the healthiest way to raise a child, it surely can’t affect his well-being and his sense of worth in any way.

Masumi saying "I thought it might make them happy if i got good grades or did well in sports, so I tried my best, but...nothing ever changed" and the story about him begging his parents to come to the show and tell and his dad's response was just "Listen to your parents, that's all we want from you" was so heartbreaking. It made me incredibly angry but it also helped me understand Masumi as a character a lot more; no wonder he has attachment issues (which are mainly centred around Izumi/the MC) and his constant need for validation, he just wants people to be there for him and be proud of his accomplishments. He just wants a family but his parents were just too busy to even give a crap.

Also, in relation to Izumi: I think he still needs to learn that the obsession he has with her is not healthy (and hopefully one day he can grow out of it) but it's clear that he doesn't do it to purposely make her uncomfortable; he's misguided and he doesn't know how to deal and express the affection he feels towards one of the people that genuinely cares about him. Also I'm not saying that he doesn't have a crush on her, I think he does but he behaves this way because he never learned how to express his feelings in a healthy way and he's probably scared someone "could take her away" at any moment because boy hasn't he had to deal with people going again a lot already.

About Masumi’s grandma: love her, she’s a darling and she clearly cares for her grandson’s well being. One thing she mentions is that her son changed when his company found success, and like, I get that he needs to put time and effort to keep his company afloat but like. not even considering what your son wants and feels? Maybe talking to him every once in a while? Being busy it's not an excuse; your son shouldn't have to wonder if his parents love him. But this also ties to the end of Masumi’s arc when his father finally lets him stay in Japan: I'm glad that Masumi's father apologised and realised the error of his ways, it doesn't undo the years of loneliness Masumi had to endure because of it, but it's a start.

Final thoughts on Masumi’s arc: 10/10 would read it again for the feels. I really loved the depth they gave him and how they made him realise that Mankai (not just Izumi) are important to him because they’re his precious family and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. One little moment after that warmed my heart was when Izumi tells Masumi that she's glad that he's been taking care of Tsuzuru while he's busy writing and he answers with "I mean, he is...family",,,,,,,,,,,I’m not crying, you’re crying. I hope we can get more moments with him in the future that are centred around his personality, his likes and dislikes, and his relationships with the other boys.

In second place, Chikage’s introduction and arc.

Let's see. I knew coming in that Chikage was a controversial character within the fandom and I knew the main reason why because of spoilers, but I didn’t know all the details. Also, something you should know about me is that I found morally grey characters interesting, so that made it so I went into this with an open mind.

Overall, I liked the episode and I ended up linking Chikage as a character well enough. But I’m not gonna lie and say that everything was perfect. The biggest issue I had with his arc was the way they handled his relationship with Izumi/the MC, especially in regards to the kidnapping. I’m usually pretty good at putting a dividing line between fiction and real life, which is what allows me to enjoy villains and morally grey characters; but as a woman who grew up with my mom saying “never leave your drink/food unattended”, seeing it done here and then having it go unpunished really left a bad taste in my mouth; because every girl grows up hearing this (and i know this is a problem that affects all genders) and it’s horrible because it has happened to so many people. So my biggest gripe about this part of his arc is the consequences, or more so the lack of them.

The only things that made it a bit more acceptable *for me* were three things:

This line from Izumi: "What Chikage's done is unforgivable. But I can't just ignore August's dying wish and Hisoka's thoughts on the matter." I have some mixed feelings about it but It just aligns with Izumi’s personality; she’s always been portrayed as incredibly selfless and giving, someone who’s ridiculously kind (to a fault) and who always tries to see the best in people and puts others before herself (and also because ~plot~ demands it, but that’s a thing with a lot of media these days) Do I wish she had been angry and wary towards Chikage after having been drugged and kidnapped? Yes, I do, it would have been nice to have a portion of the story dedicated to Chikage having to earn her trust back because what he did really was not okay.

Sakuya’s conversation with Chikage when he tries to leave after opening night and in particular these two lines from Sakuya: "This isn't about the play....for some reason, I get the feeling we shouldn't leave you alone right now" [...] "You're different now. I can tell you're broken and hurting. I feel like you've lost your way." Regardless of personal feelings, I think Chikage showed that he really was shaken by the weight of his own actions after he found out the truth. He knows that what he did was wrong and that’s why his emotions and all his guilt were crushing him all at once. He was driven by revenge and anger for so long that once he learned and accepted the truth, he completely lost himself. And seeing him have to deal with all of that made me really glad, because even if he’s not gonna have to deal with external consequences (aka having to deal with the rest of the company’s distrust, even though I wish he did), he still had to find a way to not only forgive himself but also to atone in his own way for what he did (aka putting down his walls, fulfilling his promises and making it his mission to protect everyone at mankai from the organisation)

Now, as I’ve been saying, I really wish Chikage had been able to tell the others the whole story about what he did and why he did it but…..we didn’t get that. What I am glad about, though, is that at least he told them that he took her away on purpose (even if he didn’t tell them how or why); also both he and Hisoka pointed out that anyone who knows the full truth about their lives could be in serious danger and that having Izumi know was already risky enough. And yes, that is indeed very plot convenient but it’s the bare minimum and I’m willing to give it a pass this time.

tl;dr I think Chikage is an interesting character that has a lot of potential and I have hopes that he will get some more development in future events. BUT, I really think they could have handled his arc in this episode a lot better.

Now, all that said, if you still couldn’t bring yourself to forgive or look past what he did and you still don’t like him: no one can force you to like him after the things he did since it can be very triggering for a lot of people, so remember that your feelings are totally valid.

In third place and in relation to Chikage’s arc, I also have to mention Hisoka and the development he got as a result.

The only thing that bugged me in relation to Hisoka was that even though I knew he couldn't because of ~plot~ (and probably because part of him is still unsure about what he didn't remember and how it could affect the others even if he did say that the person he was before didn't matter anymore) but I really wished he had told anyone "hey so like......Chikage said some weird stuff to me just now and I might need help" because their first 1 to 1 confrontation was a threat if I've ever seen one.

But yeah, other than that I really love that we not only finally got to learn about his past, but also we got a good foundation for his development in the future regarding his interpersonal relationships with the winter troupe. The fact that he couldn’t remember who he was has been a point of conflict in the past and this brings that issue to a close in the sense that he is willing to tell them (part of) the truth once he sorts things out. And I loved loved how the trust Hisoka has in them is the direct result of all the ups and downs that the winter troupe has gone through so far in learning to open up to each other. I know they said during nocturnality that they’re not a family in the same sense the spring troupe is, but I honestly disagree; they way in which they’ve come to rely on each other shows how strong their bond is.

#a3!#a3! spoilers #act 2 spoilers #kinda since i'm really late to this

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

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[CN] Gavin’s Basketball Court Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Note: This is a cancelled date which will unlikely come to EN :’(

More from this Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

The date begins with MC in the gym. She comments that it’s usually fully packed, and today is no exception. While leaving, she coincidentally meets Gavin at the entrance.

He offers to send her home (even though he just arrived lol). He also invites her to join him for outdoor sports next time.

MC: Sure, but what are we going to do? A night run? Or our usual running?

Gavin: Let’s do something different. I’ll teach you basketball.

Basketball?!

This term leaves me shocked, and I suddenly feel like fleeing…

Even though getting smacked by the ball was something that happened back in high school, just the memory of it leaves me feeling faint.

It is nothing but a shadow of life.

MC: …but I have no idea how to play basketball...

Gavin: It’s okay, exercising is the main point.

MC: …

Gavin: Don’t worry, I’m here.

I look towards Gavin, his eyes carrying with it assurance, as though calling me to trust him.

MC: Mm… I’ll give it a try then! …don’t make fun of me if I play badly!

Gavin: Of course I wouldn’t. Are you free this weekend? I can pick you up.

I nod, agreeing to a date that I am both anticipating yet slightly worried about.

On Saturday afternoon, Gavin and I head to the outdoor court in Central Park. Although it is still morning, the courts already have quite a number of people.

I take in my surroundings and discover that most of the people consist of school boys, their movements bursting with energy. The sheer number of basketballs flying around the courts leave me shocked, and I unconsciously shirk backwards.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: …I don’t know how to play basketball…

I lower my head and stare at my sport shoes, unable to say the five words: “I am afraid of basketball”.

Gavin hands me the ball.

Gavin: I picked up basketball late, and only started in Junior High.

MC: ?

Gavin: Back then, I was quite short so the seniors made fun of me. A year later, they couldn’t win against me.

I’m left flabbergasted. Minor mentioned that Gavin is amazing at basketball, but I didn’t expect to hear such a story behind it.

Although Gavin only gave me a brief summary, I know that he must have gone through a lot, and put in much effort during that one year.

Gavin: MC, enjoying the process of exercising is more important than anything else.

There is a smile on Gavin’s face.

He… must really like basketball. I can almost imagine him in the court, playing to his heart’s content.

Realising how much Gavin likes basketball, it no longer seems that frightening.

I muster my courage and pat the basketball, crinkling my eyes into a smile.

MC: A goal of mine today is to throw the ball through the hoop once! I’m going to trouble Coach Gavin to teach me from now onwards!

Gavin freezes for a moment.

Gavin: All right.

Gavin does a simple dribbling demonstration. It’s as though the basketball can understand his every command, remaining entirely in Gavin’s control.

I take a deep breath, deciding not to care about the flying basketballs around me. I focus on learning how to dribble the ball.

My current standard limits me to dribbling the ball in position. With a slight movement of my foot, the ball rolls away…

MC: I didn’t think dribbling the ball would be so difficult…

Gavin: There’s no rush, I’ll help to correct your movements.

I nod, cheering myself on once again.

Although my posture is awkward and odd, it seems like… basketball isn’t that scary after all…

Standing beside me, Gavin rests his hand on the small of my back.

Gavin: Relax a little more, your movements can’t be too stiff.

The warmth from his palm seeps through the thin material of my sports outfit, finding its way onto my skin.

It is only now that I realise how close we are. Just a slight lean of my head is enough to make contact with his face.

His eyebrows are bathed in sunlight, casting him in a gentle glow.

Gavin: When doing a low dribble, let your wrist be the axis. Use your wrist and the strength in your fingers to dribble. Like this.

His other hand gently holds onto my wrist. The resulting warmth and the warmth at my back mix together, painting my face a slight tinge of red.

I find myself in a daze, and am unable to speak for a long time.

Gavin’s eyes trail from the basketball to my face. Looking at my dazed state, the seriousness in his lips turns into a smile.

Gavin: Do you know what to do now?

His low voice and warm breaths enter my ear.

I unconsciously avoid his gaze, but accidentally make contact with his arm when dribbling the ball.

With a light cough, Gavin releases his hold on me. He rubs his neck, his ears turning red.

I apply Gavin’s techniques, and find that dribbling does become much easier.

Gavin: Try taking a few steps.

I try taking a few steps forward.

After an early afternoon of “intimate contact” with basketball, I no longer have a phobia of it. However, it is still difficult to master. With a slight movement, the ball rolls to a corner.

Gavin hands me the ball, comforting me once again.

Gavin: It’d be fine after you try a few more times.

Before I can say anything, I hear a man’s voice coming from the side.

Random man: If you’re playing like that, don’t take up space on the court!

Three young men are standing at the side of the basketball court. The one who just spoke has short hair.

Gavin moves to stand in front of me:

Seeing this, the short-haired man starts laughing.

Random man: Give us the court and go elsewhere to concentrate on your date! Your girlfriend can’t play well anyway haha!

The other two men join in the laughter.

I’m a little embarrassed and at a loss for words.

Gavin sweeps his eyes over them, then pulls me towards the basketball hoop, ignoring the three men.

It seems to be the first time the short-haired man has experienced being slighted, and his expression turns ugly.

Random Man: Let’s have a match. Whoever wins will get the court! How does that sound - do you dare to take me on?

Hearing this, Gavin stops and turns to look at him. The short-haired man laughs even more exaggeratedly.

Random Man: You’d lose out if it’s a 2-on-2 though, considering how your girlfriend doesn’t know how to play haha! I’ll give you a chance, how does a 1-on-1 sound?

I tug at the corner of Gavin’s shirt, a little worried.

Gavin: It’s fine.

Gavin assures me in a low voice, and then faces the three men.

Gavin: I’ll take on all three of you.

I widen my eyes in shock, and the three men are also visibly taken aback.

MC: ?!

The three men: What?!

Gavin: If you don’t dare to, then leave.

Random Man: Hmph, don’t accuse us of bullying you later!

An unplanned match begins. The rules are simple – whoever gets the ball through the hoop first wins.

Gavin takes on a casual posture as he dribbles the ball. Although he is alone, he exudes the aura of an entire team. The three men remain in front of the hoop, defending cautiously.

I am filled with a sudden spurt of spirit, running to the court and shouting:

MC: All the best Gavin!

Gavin doesn’t look towards me, but he suddenly goes on the offensive!

He is undeterred by the attempts of the three men to block him. The wind tousles his hair, and sunlight is reflected off his earring and into my eyes.

Building momentum with his spring-like movements, he takes a large leap. The sweat on his brow slides off his face and enters the air, glistening in the light.

He has a serious look on his face, entirely focused on the ball.

With a lift of his hand, the ball leaves the palm of his hand and fingers, forming a perfect parabola in the air.

With a “thud”, the ball steadily goes through the hoop!

MC: Amazing!

The three men are rooted to the spot, their expressions betraying utter disbelief.

After another period of training, I finally learn the basics of dribbling.

Gavin: Very good.

MC: It’s all thanks to your good teaching… even I find myself stupid…

Thinking of Gavin’s beautiful form when he shot the ball through the hoop, my heart does a flip.

MC: Um… could you teach me how to shoot next?

He nods and takes the ball. Within the span of a breath, Gavin dribbles the ball towards the net. The ball once again goes through the hoop!

MC: You’re amazing!

I copy Gavin’s movements, but the ball I toss completely misses the mark. The ball doesn’t even touch the board, much less the hoop.

MC: This is too difficult…

No matter how many times I try, the result is still the same… the basketball is in a completely different state when in my hands and Gavin’s.

I release a sigh.

Gavin moves to stand behind me, pulling both my hands over the top of my head, correcting my posture.

Gavin: Like this.

Perhaps due to our strenuous exercise, both of our breaths are warm. The temperature of the air surrounding us rises as a result.

My hands tremble and the basketball falls to the ground, rolling away.

Gavin: [coughs lightly] …let’s try again, following the same action as before.

MC: Okay…

I take deep breaths and try shooting the ball again, with slight improvements.

The temperature rises as noon sets in. Without realizing it, my forehead is completely drenched with sweat.

At this moment, a cool and refreshing object is pressed against my cheek.

I jump at the sudden coldness, whipping my head around to see Gavin standing behind me.

His lifts his head as he drinks from his bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

The contents of the bottle refract the sunlight, morphing the white rays into a colorful, tiny rainbow.

Gavin: Drink some water.

MC: Mm!

I open the can and prepare to down several gulps, but Gavin stops me.

Gavin: Don’t drink too much. You’ve just finished exercising.

I nod, drinking a few small mouthfuls. The blazing heat of the day has left me in a slight trance.

Suddenly, a basketball comes flying towards me!

Before I can react, I find myself wrapped in a hug.

Gavin shifts us to the side quickly, avoiding the ball.

Gavin: MC, are you all right?!

MC: …

My eyes are wide. Gavin furrows his eyebrows, his expression worried.

The owner of the ball apologises profusely.

MC: I… I’m fine…

Looking at my frightened expression, Gavin holds my hand.

Gavin: That’s all for today. Let’s go.

MC: …why so sudden?

Gavin: You were really scared just now.

Gavin opens his mouth as though about to say something, but simply holds my hand tightly.

Could he have sensed that I’m afraid of basketball…

With this in mind, I summon my courage.

MC: I haven’t fulfilled my goal for today!

Seeing my smile, Gavin relaxes.

MC: Could you give me a demonstration again? I’ll definitely learn it this time!

Gavin nods, bringing me to a safer area on the court. He demonstrates how to dribble and shoot the ball.

Gavin: Try again?

MC: Okay!

Mimicking his posture, I take a leap, both arms raised over my head, exerting strength in my wrist to throw the ball…

The ball circles the hoop twice and falls through the hoop!

MC: !!!

I jump up excitedly, turning around and running to Gavin, excited to the point that I can barely form coherent sentences.

MC: Gavin, you, you saw that right! It went in, it really went in! I’m not dreaming, am I?

Gavin: You’re amazing.

He looks at me, his eyes smiling and filled with commendation.

The look in his eyes alleviates the tightness in my chest, and I finally relax.

MC: Before today, I was quite scared of basketball… I was smacked by a basketball in high school, and I’ve been scared of it ever since. I never thought that I’d be able to shoot it through a hoop today!

Gavin reaches out and rubs my head gently.

Gavin: Does it still hurt?

MC: Ah? …it stopped hurting a long time ago! It was quite strange actually – even though I’m afraid of basketball, every time I’m on duty for P.E. class, it’d always happen to be a lesson on basketball. I think I once met you in the gymnasium…

It was already very late back then. I thought the gymnasium would be empty, but I saw Gavin shooting hoops. He played for a long time, and there were several basketballs by his feet.

By the time I finished my homework and returned to the gymnasium to clean up, the floor had not a single trace of basketballs. They were all neatly returned into the basket.

MC: …at that time, I didn’t have the chance to thank you.

Gavin: Thank me for what?

MC: You might have forgotten… you helped me pack up the basketballs in the gymnasium…

Gavin doesn’t respond. He turns to look at me, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile. He takes my hand.

I look at him, not knowing what to say.

MC: You…

In the next second, Gavin embraces me gently.

His breath envelops me.

I hear the sound of steady heartbeats.

Gavin: MC, I remember everything.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #mlqc basketballs #cncancelled

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